‘Australia is the luckiest country’ I always tell people. What’s it like living here? Well, most Aussies wake up to the warbling of magpies and infinitely beautiful skies. The wildlife is to die for. I can walk to the bottom of my street, go for a swim and find seahorses. One year we went to see comedian Bill Bailey who quipped ‘you Aussies, you swim with dolphins every day’ … I nudged my mate. Well, not today, but last weekend! There are kangaroos visible just outside the airport and our forests buzz with the sounds of koalas and gliding possums. Parrots and cockatoos are so abundant, it’s not uncommon to read Facebook posts where visitors ask ‘has someone lost their pet bird?’ It takes a while to accept what we take for granted. So why the disconnect between Australia’s beauty and its nature writing?
Our love-hate relationship with wildlife
When it comes to wildlife, almost all home-grown content is reduced to scientific discourse. Dare I say, it’s generally morose and boring. It’s not the vibrant, mysterious, wonderful, candid and colourful commentary I grew up with as a child of Attenborough.
Opinions are often laced with a dose of malevolence as well. Animals are either too rare or too inconveniently abundant to just be marveled upon. Everything is either a pest, a subject for research or something to eat. In the main, Aussies are denied the chance to simply share an enjoyment of nature. Or, to explore a more complex, intangible … or ‘spiritual’ connection with the world. This failure has real world consequences.
For example, there are few animals more maligned than the humble sea urchin. One of the most powerful grazers in our coastal ecosystem. Yet scientists are hammering them to pieces and a media campaign by Universities has turned almost everyone against them with forseeable consequences. I sat in a public forum recently watching scientists visibly recoil as members of the public demanded more freedom to grab, smash and obliterate them (only scientists are allowed to do this, apparently).
As an expert in ecosystem science, I am overwhelmed by the extent to which the general public understands principles that research scientists are unable (or unwilling) to accept.
Denied a more nuanced understanding, journalists at The Guardian have slurped on this decidely fishy-story and served (literally) urchin flesh as a solution to nature’s imbalance.
There are few animals more maligned than a sea urchin. Helen Sullivan writes in The Guardian that ‘sea urchins are as sinister as they appear’ and ‘have a darkness’. Sullivan only reports what she has been told, which is that they have laid waste to kelp beds. The reality is quite different.
– Quote from How to Survive the Next 100 Years: Lessons from Nature
Where are the naturalists?
I grew up in the UK where the word ‘naturalist’ was commonplace. On arriving in Australia I was told by an ex-WWF publicity guru that the words ‘natural history’ weren’t commonly used here. Ironically, the ABC natural history unit – presumably named after its BBC counterpart – was closed down in 2007.
For a period of 18 months in 2008/9, myself and Nick Hayward (Quoll Farm, The Platypus Guardian) were producing more films than anyone in Aus … a series of over 40 short films about people, nature and place. They were commissioned by Tourism Australia but barely used. No-one seemed to understand how to use them. This despite the fact that ‘wildlife’ had been identified as the number one driver for tourism visitation, bigger even than sport, or food & wine. The people we interviewed were emotionally bound to nature in ways I’d never known.
When I first arrived in Aus, being a ‘birder’ was a source of amusement. There were chuckles around the dinner table. ‘What birds do you like?’, I’d get asked’ … ‘the two legged variety’, I’d respond. A lot has changed in the intervening years. There’s more demand and curiosity about that now but mainstream news remains a horrible place to learn. There are signs of an emergence of naturalists among the general public but their voices are mostly unheard.
There is something odd about how we elevate research science over natural history. Much of my work at present is about connecting what we call Cultural Ecosystem Services to the environment. That’s to say, the many and varied ways people feel when they are in nature. These are what scientists call intangible values. Those values, which come from the naturalist mindset, cannot be fully understood, but are of critical importance to our interconnected personal welfare and landscape health.
Natural science interviews are so much more interesting
In our project Restore the Bay we are gathering such community wisdom and putting it into a decision tool. This represents the most advanced conservationWhy is animal conservation important? Animal conservation is important, because animals are the only mechanism to create biodiversity, which is the mechanism that creates a habitable planet for humans. Without animals, the energy from today’s plants (algae, trees, flowers etc) will eventually reach the atmosphere and ocean, much of it as carbon. The quantity of this plant-based waste is so More practice. There remains, however, a gaping void of such knowledge, despite decades of ecological research. This continues to jeopardise most of the decisions we make about our local environment and we are poorer for it. This project is hoping to change that.
I am fortunate. Each day I get to speak to people who have a far richer relationship with animals than anything I commonly hear online. They speak eloquently and are deeply considered, thoughtful and positive. I gain insights that are new and informing. This offers a fresh perspective on how our world works and where the opportunities are to make positive decisions.
As an expert in ecosystem science, I am overwhelmed by the extent to which the general public understands principles that research scientists are unable (or unwilling) to accept.
Research scientists aren’t allowed to talk about this stuff because they haven’t proved it, or it isn’t provable. The reality is, much of what we know about our connection to nature can never be proved as it’s inherently intangible. Yet that’s also the main reason our ecosystemsHow ecosystems function An ecosystem is a community of lifeforms that interact in such an optimal way that how ecosystems function best, is when all components (including humans and other animals) can persist and live alongside each other for the longest time possible. Ecosystems are fuelled by the energy created by plants (primary producers) that convert the Sun's heat energy More function(Of an ecosystem). A subset of ecosystem processes and structures, where the ecosystem does something that provides an ecosystem service of value to people. More. Leaving this out of a conversation turns it stale. We lose something of ourselves when we deny our connection in words and ways that can’t be resolved scientifically.
Contemporary artist Dr Lisa Anderson says ‘understanding is something but feeling can be as well. We’ve lost a diversity of language and over time, some words have less meaning meaning than they do now. We’ve also lost the stories and folk connection which means we’re we’re not as enriched as we once were’.
Understanding makes the mind lazy
Alienating naturalists from public conversation and channelling media to research scientists alone, denies society the knowledge it needs to be resilient. It’s also boring! Our media isn’t asking the right questions or interviewing the right people. Which means interviewers themselves aren’t being challenged. Yet thinking differently and challenging preconceived world views makes for better entertainment! Plus, it’s really important! It is the means to revive the stagnant relationship we have with nature. In this, our media is failing dismally and so are our research scientists.
‘They won’t understand it, but that is all to the good. Understanding makes the mind lazy.’
– Penelope Fitzgerald, The Bookshop
At the root of all this is our desire to understand everything about how our world works. That’s impossible. We only imagine that talking to an expert will bring us some conclusion (which we never get). Where better to go than a prestigious research organisation for an opinion? I mean, sure, there are reasons to talk to research scientists but in my experience, not when you are trying to understand nature. For that, you need free-thinking natural historians. They will give you new and different truths or ideas that you may have not considered before. Especially about what things means for us personally, and our society. Not only is this wise but it is the very basis for the world’s greatest conservation outcomes.
Reframing the discussion around what could be possible, he invited a new style of conversation. The local people rose above a stalemate and exceeded their own expectations. ‘It was their set of beliefs that convinced them it was impossible,’ he says. ‘Once we acknowledged it could happen, it took the pressure off. This freed up their minds so they could consider what they would do.’
– Quote from How to Survive the Next 100 Years: Lessons from Nature
Natural historians are built differently. Their connection to nature will challenge your world view and in doing so, unlock new possibilities for progress, both economically and socially. It’s not about you understanding anything. It’s about asking new questions so you can discover answers you never imagined.
“Exactly!” said Deep Thought. “So once you do know what the question actually is, you’ll know what
the answer means.”― Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
Ultimately, this is why we have a disconnect between Australia’s beauty and its nature writing. It’s something I hope to see change over the coming years as our relationship with our local environment matures.
