EcoLincNZ

Category: Uncategorized

  • A giant pest problem: elephants in the backyard

    New Zealand has a huge agricultural industry. It also has a pest problem. I myself have been out to a friends’ farm and was told to “squash a mouse if you see one”! Which I think we can all empathise with to an extent. When the little b*stards are eating your food, they might as well be infesting your wallet.

    Image CC-BY-SA Diego Delso on Wikimedia Commons: Elephants and humans live in close contact in Africa

    Now, think about scaling that up a couple of levels. You no longer have nuisance, albeit damaging, mice scurrying around your farm shed. Instead you have elephants, in herds of 11+, munching through entire fields and even ripping doors off your grain sheds. Stomping won’t quite suffice here (and may go the other way).

    This is an issue that Abel Mamboleo and his PhD supervisors, Chile Doscher and Adrian Paterson, at Lincoln University investigated in their JOJ wildlife and Biology paper in 2020. Instead of the standard numbers, quantities and figures you may expect in a science paper, here they take a slightly alternative approach to the topic. What do people think is happening in their backyards? After all, fear and perceptions are powerful things.

    To start with a bit of context – who are we talking about when referring to people? This study interacted with people in the region of Bunda, a very densely populated region in Tanzania. Much of its land is a part of the idyllic Serengeti ecosystem, and boasts an internationally renowned tourism hotspot.

    Bunda location within Tanzania – right next to the Serengeti: Image CC-BY-SA Macabe 5387 on Wikimedia commons

    These people rely heavily on farming. In fact, 80% of annual income in Bunda comes from this industry. You can imagine how devastating it is to have these creatures, as amazing and majestic as elephants may be, decimate their fields of crops.

    Elephants eating crops is not a new story. In fact, there are even somewhat humorous accounts of elephants eating rotten fruit in orchards and getting themselves rather drunk in the process. Thieving behaviour may even be tolerated – these giants are big money for tourism. However, in this particular context, such interactions are becoming more and more problematic. In this area, as the human population grows, human-elephant interactions also increase.

    Mamboleo went to this area to ask local people their thoughts about these interactions. Using interviews and questionnaires in local languages to ensure clear messages, they found that 88% of those asked thought these human-elephant interactions were on the increase. Furthermore, 79% of respondents reported these events were most common on farms.

    This in and of itself is not necessarily an issue. Local people had described the elephants as generally ‘docile’ and can even be safely approached to within 50 m. In the past, farmers have sometimes been able to simply scare elephants away themselves using traditional techniques, such as patrolling and fencing. Elephant ‘friendliness’ has even been suggested in other parts of Africa, with some suggesting elephants are going as far as to domesticate themselves. However, now, elephants are beginning to ignore these scaring techniques, some becoming bolder and potentially more dangerous.

    How is this affecting people?

    You can begin to see how conflicts between elephants and humans are likely to grow, with 32% of people thinking that elephants will react to seeing a person by killing them, and guarding crops being a main way for these people to protect their livelihoods. And for another large minority, 42% of those asked, they experienced elephants simply continuing to eat their crops in the presence of humans. Evidently, these people don’t have effective tools to deter elephants and protect their farms.

    Extreme measures: what to do next?

    We can see how people would be having a hard time with their elephant neighbours here. But what about the elephants?

    Elephants are protected in Tanzania. The people of Bunda know this. However, desperate times sometimes call for desperate measures. Therefore, occasionally, when an elephant is raiding crops, people may turn to lethal measures. Whilst few people who were interviewed list this as a response to seeing elephants raiding crops, Mamboleo raises the valid point that this number could be higher. Local people know that there could be consequences of authorities finding that illegal elephant kills had taken place in the Bunda region.

    Elephants & mice – really that different? Image by GlobalP from iStock

    This may seem like a drastic response. However, killing pests such as rats, rabbits and mice that eat crops in NZ doesn’t seem so drastic, does it? Of course, this is a very different situation – elephants are native to this area, and are endangered and protected. But this comparison does make you realise that wanting to kill the problem can be a fairly universal response.

    Mamboleo notes that cheap responses can be turned to in the absence of timely support from conservation authorities…so what can be done about that?

    Well, there are some cool things being done across Africa to help with these conflicts. For example, do you know that elephants are scared of bees? Who’d have thought. Some projects actually exist to build bee hives around fences to keep elephants away, and this seems to work pretty well. It also turns out that elephants don’t like spicy food – so chilli can be used in a similar way.

    Image by Kengee8 on Wikimedia Commons: Example of elephant-bee fence

    More ideas, such as this would, be very useful to help in these situations. Answering questions such as when are elephants most likely to visit the farms may also be helpful for targeted responses, Mamboleo says.

    Knowing how people feel, how they’re responding to the situation, and what they need to do to help them resolve the situation for the best outcomes for people and wildlife is a great first step here. That’s the valuable context needed to now take the next steps and make solutions that will work. Especially when we can’t just stomp on the problem!

    This article was prepared by Master of International Nature Conservation student Sally Sinclair as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

  • Kea pine for a new home?

    Kea, our smart alpine parrots, are sometimes a little too clever for their own good. They are a species struggling to maintain large and healthy populations. Part of their problem is that they are very curious and seem to be fascinated by what humans do, and more importantly, often live in human-influenced habitat. This is not such a good trait when it leads them to interact with hazards like lead or toxins, nor is it useful if they find human ‘junk’ food.

    This curiosity is also not helpful when we want to study kea. Many of the approaches that work with other bird species just fail for kea. Instead of going about their business they come and see what you are doing, and that’s not great for understanding key aspects of their life histories.

    Spot the kea at the top of the tree! Image by Adrian Paterson.

    I has some first-hand experience with researching kea about twenty five years ago, when I was a newly minted Lincoln University lecturer. I was helping Kerry-Jayne Wilson to supervise a masters student, Mark Jarratt. Mark was interested in how much lead, and other nasty waste, the kea were finding in the local Arthur’s Pass area, and consuming, in their habitat. For example, lead was present in paints, shotgun pellets and rubbish in the tips and kea were often observed eating it.

    Mark had to catch kea to take blood samples to check for lead contamination. Catching kea can be fairly challenging. They are not easily fooled and they can learn by observing others. Adding to the difficulty was that we had to keep the birds in captivity for an hour or so as part of the procedure. And this was a problem.

    We initially used a cage. We would capture a kea, put it in a holding cage, and then go and try and capture the next one. However, each kea would often figure out how to escape the cage. We would return to find a cage open and our patient free (and not likely to be so easily caught again). So then we took the cage with a kea into a small hut nearby, thinking that if the bird got out of the cage then they would at least be in the hut. Unfortunately, some of the kea managed to figure out how to open the windows in the hut. Moral: don’t work with animals smarter than you are!

    So, when PhD student Jodanne Aitken came to James Ross and me and wanted to do a project on kea, I was a little hesitant. However, Jodanne is nothing if not persistent, passionate and persuasive, and a project on kea was begun.

    Early morning in the plantation. The native forest in the distance was often commuted to and from by kea. Image by Adrian Paterson.

    Jodanne was interested in how kea move about and utilise the landscape. Much of her PhD work is in the Southern Alps around Arthur’s Pass, where she is using transmitters to figure out just how mobile kea can be. Is that kea you see gnawing your car wiper blades from the local valley or could it be from several mountain ranges away? More on that in future EcoLincNZ articles!

    Jodanne’s initial work was in looking at how kea might be using plantations of introduced pine and Douglas fir in the Nelson region. Forestry has become a dominant part of many regional landscapes, often hilly and where native forests once grew (and kea once flew). This is especially the case in the Nelson region. The question that Jodanne wanted to answer was whether these forestry plantations, typically monocultures with a lot of human activity, provide a net gain or loss for kea.

    Jodanne filming kea foraging behaviour. Image by Adrian Paterson.

    Are plantations the equivalent of barren wastes for kea, where there is little food and high densities of mammalian predators (not to mention hazards that humans introduce into an area)? Alternatively, do plantations offer new food resources and places to roost and nest? Of course there could be a range of outcomes from positive to negative.

    Jodanne was able to work in forestry blocks run by Nelson Forestry Limited. Local workers were key to providing Jodanne with almost real-time information on kea presence within blocks that were being actively harvested. One advantage of working in plantations were the forestry roads that gave rapid, if a little hair-raising, access to most of these areas.

    Jodanne was able to capture three kea and mount GPS trackers in fancy backpacks to collect movement data. She also observed kea during the morning and late afternoon-early evening periods for several months, mostly to record their feeding. Jodanne used direct and video observations to observe their foraging. Kea poo was also collected when available to get some physical information about diet.

    The kea with transmitters spread their time between the plantation areas and neighbouring native forest. The majority of time was spent in the pines where they foraged, roosted and nested. Kea were observed eating pine seed, as well as tissue stripped off newly harvested Douglas fir logs. The faecal samples, well the bits that could be identified, contained lots of invertebrates.

    Kea have discovered that they can strip the bark of newly harvested logs, scrape off the cambion tissue, chew this and get something nice out of it. (Maybe a bit like eating sweets?) This may be one of the attractions of being in plantations. Image by Adrian Paterson.

    In short, as summarised in a NZ Journal of Zoology paper, kea seemed to be using the pine plantations in similar ways to more natural areas. Good news! However, one of three kea that carried a GPS recorder was killed by a cat. So, there may be some significant risks for kea spending a lot of their time in these areas. ‘Swings and roundabouts’ as they say.

    Despite this being a relatively small scale study, it does indicate that we could learn a lot more about kea in these highly modified landscapes. Jodanne has taken this training and shifted her sights to a much larger scale project on kea movement in the Southern Alps and southern Westland.

    Kea are one of the smartest bird species on the planet but they still need our help to let them survive the arrival of the smartest mammal species and the changes that we have made. Understanding this clever species is fundamental to helping them. This tricky challenge has been accepted by Jodanne and her research colleagues.

    Article by Adrian Paterson, an Associate Professor in the Department of Pest-management and Conservation at Lincoln University.

  • Kiwi calling: when listening is not enough

    I don’t know about your’s, but my mum gets worried when I don’t respond to her phone calls for a few hours. Once, I can’t remember what I was doing, but I didn’t hear the phone ringing. When I finally checked my phone I saw about 17483 missed calls, oops. I can only wonder what went through her mind when I wasn’t responding: she was probably picturing me skydiving, in an ambulance, or lost in the woods during a hike.

    But what if she’d had a more statistical mindset and thought about why I hadn’t responded? Or even better: what if she’d thought about reasons why she could not detect me?

    Ecologists and conservationists consider something similar when analysing data obtained from searching an area for a certain animal species. An animal could be present at a certain site, but still go undetected. First, they have to consider what ecological reasons might have determined where the species was present or absent (for instance, where is there suitable habitat within the considered area). Second, they have to take into account what factors might have influenced the likelihood of actually observing the species (such as the distance from the observer, or the fact that the surveyor may not be skilled enough to recognise the species). These are defined, respectively, as occupancy (which is the same as saying “presence”) and detection probabilities, and can be estimated by using statistical models.

    Occupancy probability and detection probability are described by two different models and both of them will influence what will be observed during a survey. Taking into account that not all the animals will be observed is very important when attempting to accurately assess a species’ presence, which could otherwise be underestimated.

    A young roroa being released as part of the Operation Nest Egg programme. Image by Jon Sullivan on Flickr.

    Peter Jahn, James Ross, Darryl MacKenzie and Laura Molles, in a study published in 2022, wanted to know how accurate acoustic surveys of roroa-great spotted kiwi (Apteryx maxima) were between 2011-2015. During this time, 18 birds were translocated from the Hawdon Valley, in Arthur’s Pass National Park, to the Nina Valley, in Lake Sumner Forest Park, representing one of the initial efforts of the Operation Nest Egg programme. The researchers also wanted to compare kiwi presence before and after 2015, and between the two areas.

    They gathered data from a survey conducted in 2012-2013 by DOC in both the valleys and then repeated the methodology in 2017-2018. The technique they used was passive acoustic monitoring (PAM). PAM is effective when studying elusive species such as kiwi. Automatic recorders were deployed in the two study areas and left there for up to three weeks, activating just before sunset and switching off shortly after sunrise.

    The team analysed the kiwi calls recorded in each of the valleys. The goal was to find a model that would best describe the obtained data, and use it as a base to estimate occupancy and detection probability. Peter Jahn and colleagues wanted to know which factors were important in detecting the kiwi and looked at the study area (Nina and Hawdon Valleys), year, length of the survey night, breeding/non-breeding season, precipitation, wind speed, night length, varying recorder battery capacity.

    Similarly, my mum could have considered the fact that my phone may have been in silent mode, or had no service, or estimated the actual likelihood of me being in an ambulance. All of these factors could have influenced her imperfect detection of me.

    In both the study areas, the detection probability was found to be higher during the breeding season, to increase with longer survey nights and to be influenced by wind speed, rain accumulation and recorder sensitivity. Also, as expected, kiwi presence in the Nina Valley increased after the translocation, as it did in the Hawdon Valley. Moreover, it was found that the number of sites where kiwi calls were recorded increased in 2017-2018 in both the areas and that, in total, many more calls were detected in the Hawdon Valley than in the Nina Valley.

    The Hawdon Valley in Arthur’s Pass National Park. Image CC-BY-NC by Jon Sullivan on Flickr.

    Wait, the number of sites where calls were recorded and the presence of kiwi increased in the Hawdon Valley after kiwi were removed from there? How is that possible? Yeah, that was one surprising finding of the study. In fact, the researchers were expecting that occupancy would decrease after the birds’ removal, but what they found actually suggests that new pairs re-occupied the territories left inhabited by the translocated individuals.

    This is a promising result, because it means that such conservation strategy doesn’t necessarily negatively influence the population from which the individuals are taken. Also, the ongoing pest mammal control in the Hawdon Valley could have balanced the negative effect of the translocation. I guess the only thing left to do now is find out what makes kiwi desire those territories so much that they can’t stay away: maybe they have the most delicious earthworms of New Zealand?

    To conclude, these findings demonstrate that the species is reacting well to this reintroduction programme, considered that kiwi presence increased in the Nina Valley too. Furthermore, this study showed that combining occupancy estimates through statistical models with acoustic monitoring is very useful when studying the outcomes of kiwi’s translocations. However, if you, reader, can’t wait to know more about what happens to our dear kiwi when we move them around, sit back and read Peter Jahn’s PhD thesis: never stop learning.

    Finally, going back to my mum trying to “detect” me: I suggest the probability would increase a lot if she learned to call outside of my usual napping times!

    This article was prepared by Master of International Nature Conservation student Francisco Bini as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

    Jahn, P., Ross, J. G., MacKenzie, D. I., & Molles, L. E. (2022). Acoustic monitoring and occupancy analysis: Cost-effective tools in reintroduction programmes for roroa-great spotted kiwi. New Zealand Journal of Ecology, 46(1), 3466.

  • A foreign threat: New Zealand’s Invasive insects

    One of the many great fascinations of New Zealand is the absurd number of bugs found here that are found no where else on Earth. What’s a bug, you might ask? They’re the six-legged creepy crawlies you find everywhere. They are a part of your life, from the obnoxious house fly in your room to the big, bold beetle in the garden! Well, technically, I mislead you with the name bug. Bugs are a single group of piercing-sucking insects; the correct term to describe errant creepy crawlies is insects.

    Aside from being a nuisance in the home, what do New Zealand’s insects do? They provide excellent services to our ecosystem, whether churning up dirt, pollinating flowers, or controlling noxious weeds. They also serve as an essential part of the food web and are a key to the survival of many birds and lizards.

    A friendly, Robust grasshopper says hello! This photo I took in the Mackenzie district shows one of our largest grasshoppers. They’re excellent grazers of lichens and mosses. Historically they provided great nutrition for many birds and lizards.

    Despite their abundance, insects are massively understudied both globally and in New Zealand. We must understand how our insects contribute to our ecosystems and what might happen when new insect species arrive in our country. Species not previously found in New Zealand (nonindigenous creatures) have been a massive threat to New Zealand’s native biodiversity over the past 200 years.

    Of the non-indigenous species in New Zealand, much of the focus has been on mammals, like stoats, and plants, like wilding pines. This work is essential because these sorts of species have huge impacts on our environment and our economy. But what effects do the over 2000 introduced insect species have on New Zealand? A study by Brockerhoff (in 2009) featuring Lincoln University’s Dr Cor Vink, attempts to determine the threat of new insects to New Zealand’s ecosystems.

    The threat of introduced insects was recognised soon after European arrival. From what we know few of these species are capable of affecting native ecosystems aside from the well-studied Vespula wasp.

    The currently accepted view is that new insects do not generally hurt our ecosystems. However, as New Zealand’s ecosystems are often so understudied there is little way for us to measure the effects of new insects on the environment. Across most of the world, the arrival of new insects can be a catastrophe with substantial environmental and economic impacts.

    A photo by Will Frost of a typical Mackenzie Basin floodplain grassland. A habitat type threatened by new species of weevils and the expansion of dairy farming.

    So far New Zealand has avoided such a catastrophic invasion. Brockerhoff (2009) suggests that perhaps our intact native ecosystems repel insect invasions well compared to other parts of the world. While our forests have repelled invaders so far, the threat of climate change may alter the balance in the war of plants and insects.

    Brockerhoff (2009) aimed to investigate the effects of insect invaders across a range of New Zealand’s habitats. It was found that over 200 insects capable of damaging forests have been found in New Zealand but have had minimal impact on our native ecosystems. Several generalist moth species and a passion vine hopper have had minor effects without significant damage. In grasslands, several weevil species have been found all over New Zealand, even as high as 2800 metres, but their impact on the surrounding environment so far seems to be minor. These results suggest that all is well for New Zealand’s ecosystems. However, with rising temperatures creating more optimal conditions for invaders there could be an increase in foreign insect invaders.

    When species reach more significant numbers, their effects can start to worsen. Vespula wasps are well documented for their disruptive effects in beech forests. They feed on honey sap and compete with native birds for this resource. Worse still, these wasps predate on many native insects, some requiring a 90% reduction in Vespula wasps to survive.

    The Argentine ant spreading through New Zealand and is also of grave concern. In large numbers this ant has the ability to displace native ants and often eradicate many other native insects in the soil ecosystem.

    A photo by Will Frost showing a honey-dew beech forest from Craigieburn Forest Park which is threatened by Vespula wasps.

    So far many of the more harmful insect species are isolated to human-altered habitats. And insects which make it to intact ecosystems fail to make an impact. As these insect’s populations build over time and more begin to enter the country as temperatures warm the threat of invasion into native forests may increase.

    Many insects are selective of the plants they consume due to plant defences and palatability. This is true even for generalist insects that specialise on many plants. This likely explains why so far our plants have provided protection from so many would-be insect invaders.

    Honey dew being produced by scale insects. A rich food source for wasps. Photo from Adrian Paterson

    Brockerhoff (2009) suggests that for these reasons the greatest risks to our ecosystems now are from generalist insects, especially those which don’t rely upon plants. Generalist predators, like Vespula wasps, threaten the whole ecosystem’s natural processes. Due to their ability to consume the sugar produced by scale insects. These wasps prey on the majority of native fauna in beech forests to provide food for their young. When in huge abundances the composition of insects in the forest and availability of sugar sap is hugely reduced. If more generalist insect species with no natural predators were to arrive within New Zealand the impacts would be even greater.

    To reduce the threats to our ecosystems in future, introduction of more insects for biocontrol should not be taken lightly. We are fortunate that few exotic insects have been established in New Zealand’s native habitats. However, many of the subtle effects caused by invasive insects are not yet known, more study is needed to grasp how these effects are impacting the ecosystem.

    In the future, climate change and habitat disturbance could allow new insects to arrive and threaten our native ecosystems. We know enough now to say our environment is safe from hugely adverse effects; however, the future is uncertain. Developing a greater understanding of how these creepy crawlies subtly affect our ecosystems is paramount.

    This article was prepared by Master of Science postgraduate student Will Frost as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

    Brockerhoff, E. G., Barratt, B. I. P., Beggs, J. R., Fagan, L. L., (Nod) Kay, M.,K., Phillips, C. B., & Vink, C. J. (2010). Impacts of exotic invertebrates on new zealand’s indigenous species and ecosystems. New Zealand Journal of Ecology, Suppl.Special Issue: Feathers to Fur, 34(1), 158-174. https://newzealandecology.org/nzje/2916

  • Fantastic mantids and where to find them 

    This past year I have been reading a lot of papers about mantids because I will be doing my Masters thesis on the New Zealand mantis. They are very interesting animals that fill the niche of a top predator in many habitats.

    New Zealand only has one native species of mantid which is called te whē/rō in te reo Māori. Te whē/rō is a name shared with the stick insect. This relates to a tradition that Māori have where, depending on which of these insect species lands on you, this will indicate which gender your child will be. Maybe New Zealanders could bring it back for some niche (and traditional) gender reveals?

    Image from Ken Vernon

    The New Zealand mantis isn’t the only mantid species in New Zealand though. Since the 1970s we have had a second species in our country. Spreading from Auckland and across the North Island, the South African mantis quickly established itself in New Zealand. This South African invader is also well established in Nelson on the South Island.

    These invasive mantids have caused the decline of our native mantis on the North Island. This impact is likely driven by the female South African mantis that eat our native mantis males. These males follow their noses to the exotic female only to find out that it is a dinner date, and they are on the menu.  

    NZ ootheca (Jon Sullivan)

    The native mantis is more of a gentle species, where the females are unlikely to try and eat their mate. They don’t live for very long, perhaps six months in the wild. Mantids need a way to survive the winter and ootheca (little mantid egg cartons) protect their eggs while they develop. Both mantid species in NZ have ootheca, though they can easily be told apart. The South African mantis has a puffy white ootheca, which looks like a small meringue, while the New Zealand mantis has a brown ootheca that is smaller and more geometric.

    Mike Bowie, and his son Matthew Bowie, looked at where the New Zealand mantis laid their ootheca. Mike recently retired after over 40 years at Lincoln University, working on many native species, including the habits of New Zealand mantids.  

    The Bowies found that the New Zealand mantis preferred kowhai, native broom, lancewood, and cabbage tree, which together had 78% of the oothecae. Over half of the ootheca were found on smaller branches, predominantly non-shaded. They found that these spots were warmer and brighter than other parts of the trees and this would help with development.

    Oothecae were also centred on true north, which works with most New Zealand houses and fences since most properties are also facing true north. Ootheca are attached to houses and fences that face north, maximising their sunlight. This allows developing mantids to grow quickly. 

    The Bowies also found that there was a size difference between ootheca in Lincoln compared to those in Palmerston North. The Lincoln oothecae were significantly larger than the egg cases up north. There could be a few reasons for this and one of them is that a larger size helps them handle the colder temperatures down here. This size difference also allowed the southern population to fit a few more eggs in their ootheca giving them a bit of an advantage.  

    South African ootheca (Jon Sullivan).

    The study shows that our mantis has various adaptions that allow them to survive the New Zealand winters, especially by using the modified habitat we have created in New Zealand. Despite this, the New Zealand mantis is in decline. The South African mantis lay their ootheca in more sheltered spaces and produce oothecae that are larger than the locals, giving them advantages. They can even lay an ootheca without mating and it will hatch successfully.

    Just like those male mantids, we’ll be praying for a happy ending!

    This article was prepared by Master of Science postgraduate student George Gibbs as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

    Bowie, M. K.; Bowie, Michael H. 2003. Where does the New Zealand praying mantis, Orthodera novaezealandiae (Colenso) (Mantodea: Mantidae), deposit its oothecae? New Zealand Entomologist 26(1): 3–5. (https://doi.org/10.1080/00779962.2003.9722103)

    Further reading:

    https://academic.oup.com/beheco/article/27/3/851/2365697

    https://traviswetland.org.nz/about-travis/scientific-papers/praying-mantis-in-new-zealand/

  • The handle on the climate change pot

    I live at a student apartment here in Lincoln on campus and the handles of all of our pots are loose. Maybe you know the feeling. It is a problem, but it feels like a problem for the future.

    Recently, I talked to one of my roommates about it: “Let’s find a screwdriver and fix the pots”. But we have no screwdriver at our apartment, so nothing happened. One of these days, while picking up a pot, my pasta will end up on the floor, as the handle came off! We know this moment will come and it will then be a problem. But it probably will not be tomorrow and there are other more pressing matters at hand, like all of the assignments I have to complete over the next two weeks.

    The infamous pots and pans from our flat. No firm handles in sight. Photo: Jess Bardey

    Climate change is our global pot with a loose handle.

    During 2019, multiple councils in Canterbury, New Zealand, issued emergency declarations for climate change, basically saying that our response to climate change has to happen now. There was a global wave of these declarations in 2019, as it felt like a way for local governments to do something against the global problem of climate change. What a climate emergency declaration entails can vary widely, from a vague “climate change is an emergency in our region” to an outline of possible solutions. Looking back over the last three years, the Corona virus response showed us that governments are able to react quickly to a crisis. A reaction that was hoped for in response to the declarations as well.

    Every time we pick the climate change pot up, we can feel its handle rattling and it feels a bit more loose than the last time. We can see the slow loosening of the handle in the ever drier and warmer summers, the high fluctuation in temperature, and the higher frequency and strength of natural catastrophes. With disasters like droughts, floods or wild fires, climate change feels very real and like an emergency. The handle feels like it is falling off right this second and we feel like we should immediately do something about it, for example set it down, grab a screwdriver, so that it does not end in disaster. But we don’t, we pick the pot back up and go on with business as usual, forgetting about the incident until the next time it occurs.

    Climate protesters demand an emergency declaration, Washington DC, 2021
    “Climate Emergency Banner – DC March” by Backbone Campaign, licensed under CC BY 2.0.

    Sylvia Nissen from Lincoln University looked into two of those declarations to understand their impact, or lack thereof, which were issued by Environment Canterbury and the Christchurch City Council. After the declarations were released they were seen as a sign of hope that might lead to some action. In fact nothing really changed even multiple months after the declaration, with one of the councils even supporting a decision that would lead to more carbon emissions. The declaration by Environment Canterbury was issued after their work was inhibited by activists chaining themselves to their building and stopping their water supply, and the Christchurch City Council felt they were under global pressure, following the release of many declarations around the world. The release of these statements was a fast and easy way to appease the public without having to put much work into it. I mean, looking at our rattling pot handles again, talking to my roommate did feel like we did something about the problem, even though we really didn’t.

    Calling climate change an emergency also led to a weird appearance in the declarations, namely that much of them were focused on defining how climate change is different from other emergencies. Canterbury is well acquainted with emergencies over the last 15 years, with earthquakes in Christchurch in 2010 and 2011, followed by fires, floods and droughts in the region. An emergency is defined as a problem that is surprising and unexpected and in need of an immediate solution. Even though the effects of climate change are getting more prevalent each day, we still feel like we can find the screwdriver to fix it tomorrow. However, none of the existing screwdrivers seem to fit, so maybe we need to find a new one, or a new toolbox. Climate change is an intricate, multilayered problem that needs work on many different fronts at the same time. Local authorities often feel as if they need the governments higher up to change something, because they do not have the authority to do so.

    The emergency declarations were used to get the government of New Zealand to release an emergency statement as well. Often in times of emergencies, the authority completely shifts to one entity to make the response efforts more efficient. This is especially concerning in New Zealand as non-emergency situations have often led to suppression and disregard of Māori rights, and a centralization of power might especially lead to excluding Māori advice from councils. In the declarations Māori advisors were often described as only “present”, not giving an indication as to whether their worries were taken into account.

    Looks like a good start to a toolbox. The yellow gives them quite the emergency color. By hehaden, licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0.

    The notion of just giving the solution over to the next higher authority can also be seen as quite concerning, as bottom-up approaches were seen to lead to more realistic and inclusive solutions. And though no local government will be able to find the whole solution, each can provide their own, unique screwdriver to help fill a toolbox that can fix all the different issues, to screw the handle of the climate change pot back on.

    And looking at all the effects climate change already has on our world, is it really still a problem for tomorrow?

    So now I am going to get up and find a screwdriver. Because the loose handles of our pots (including the climate change one) can very quickly become a problem of today.

    This article was prepared by postgraduate student Jess Bardey as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

  • I see you: Sauron and the panda

    “I wish we could get away from these hills! I hate them. I feel all naked on the east side, stuck up here with nothing but the dead flats between me and that Shadow yonder. There’s an Eye in it. Come on! We’ve got to get down today somehow.” JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

    We’ve all had that feeling of being watched, of something that has taken an interest in what we are doing, and not perhaps with our best interests. It makes us fell uncomfortable, awkward, and we often change our behaviour in response, become more cautious, less spontaneous.

    Tolkien knew the power of the watching individual. Sauron, the chief antagonist in The Lord of the Rings, is literally portrayed as the Great Eye – “The Eye was rimmed with fire, but was itself glazed, yellow as a cat’s, watchful and intent, and the black slit of its pupil opened on a pit, a window into nothing. Then the Eye began to rove, searching this way and that; and Frodo knew with certainty and horror that among the many things that it sought he himself was one.” Knowing that someone can see you wherever you are is about as big a threat as we can imagine, whether it is Sauron, your boss, or your mother! We generally hate the concept that someone is watching us.

    Tolkien loved the word ‘watch’ (he used it over 330 times in the Lord of the Rings!). The watch-tower of Weathertop is the site of Frodo’s wounding, a Watcher-in-the-water nearly ends the journey at the entrance to Moria, there are Silent Watchers at the gates of Cirith Ungol, the menace of the Old Forest, Fangorn (known as the Watchwood to the Ents). Threats are usually described in the language around the feeling of being watched. And it works, it quickens the pulse of the reader. We know the feeling and respond.

    Ever get that feeling that something was looking for you?

    The problem with knowing that you are observed (or can be observed) is that you behave in ways that are different to your normal behaviour. Many species will respond to observation by not performing rarer sorts of behaviour, like play or reproduction, or by moving away from the observer.

    Gollum knows all about the watching eye and this makes him much more cautious in his movements. “His Eye watches that way all the time. It caught Smeagol there, long ago.’ Gollum shuddered. ‘But Smeagol has used his eyes since then, yes, yes: I’ve used eyes and feet and nose since then. I know other ways. More difficult, not so quick; but better, if we don’t want Him to see. Follow Smeagol! He can take you through the marshes, through the mists, nice thick mists. Follow Smeagol very carefully, and you may go a long way, quite a long way, before He catches you, yes perhaps.’ Gollum scuttles about because he does not want to be observed.

    Frodo, under the wearying influence of the ring as he stumbles through Mordor, almost completely changes his normal behaviour under the threat of constant detection. “Anxiously Sam had noted how his master’s left hand would often be raised as if to ward off a blow, or to screen his shrinking eyes from a dreadful Eye that sought to look in them. And sometimes his right hand would creep to his breast, clutching, and then slowly, as the will recovered mastery, it would be withdrawn.” If not for Sam, who does not have this anxiety, Frodo would not make it to Mt Doom.

    In animal behaviour we have a similar problem. We usually want to observe an animal’s ‘normal’ behaviour but they will often change their behaviour if they can see a human watching them. Today, technology can come to our aid.

    Yes, yes we realise you are the cutest species… Red Panda resting. Image from Kat Bugler.

    One of the more powerful new-ish tools available to those that study animal behaviour are trail cameras. These devices allow us to observe animals in the field 24/7 (just as long as they wander past the unsleeping gaze of the lens and trigger the image capture). This is a huge improvement for behavioural studies, as we can watch without the actual presence of human observers. We have used cameras in many studies here at Lincoln, mostly in understanding the life history and behaviour of nocturnal mammalian pest species..

    Recently, we used trail cameras to find out more about red panda in Nepal. Cameras were placed on red panda latrine trees (which are exactly what you are imagining). We were able to record activity patterns of wild red panda in their natural environment. Such data is useful in working out management plans to help with their conservation. We were also able to record other wild species that share their habitat.

    In some of these captured images, it appeared that the red pandas were looking at the trail cameras. If they are aware of the cameras then this might alter their behaviour. Maybe they are curious and spend more time loitering in the areas? Maybe they are frightened and don’t behave in their normal way?

    Kat Bugler, as part of her MSc at Lincoln University (with supervisors Adrian Paterson and James Ross), decided to examine whether red pandas were camera shy. Kat was able to get permission from zoos in New Zealand and Australia to observe their captive red panda in their enclosures. Each habitat was different but Kat was able to set up trail cameras to record behaviour around the main activity areas and platforms. She had a more powerful camera set up out of the enclosure to record behaviour of the pandas in these areas and around the trail cameras. Kat also spent time recording her own observations.

    Trail camera setup in a zoo enclosure. Image from Kat Bugler.

    In a paper published in Animals, Kat was able to show that there was a difference in red panda behaviour when a human observer was watching them, compared to a camera. When red panda were being watched by an individual they defecated less, ate less, moved less, played less, rested less, and slept more than when they were only being ‘watched’ by the trail cameras. Red panda were much slower to change behaviours when being observed. Interestingly, there were similar differences, if not as large, when comparing behaviour recorded by the outside camera compared to the enclosure trail cameras. The presence of people changes red panda behaviour, but so does the presence of a trail camera.

    These are subtle changes. Trail cameras are hardly the eye of Sauron: “And suddenly he felt the Eye. There was an eye in the Dark Tower that did not sleep. He knew that it had become aware of his gaze. A fierce eager will was there. It leaped towards him; almost like a finger he felt it, searching for him.” Are trail cameras useful for monitoring red panda behaviour if they can cause changes in behaviour? Absolutely, they do record all of the behaviour that red pandas exhibit, they just may alter the duration and frequency of occurrence. As long as we bear that in mind then we have a great tool to use in the wilds of the Himalayas and in understanding more about the red panda.

    “He did not feel invisible at all, but horribly and uniquely visible; and he knew that somewhere an Eye was searching for him” Maybe Sauron would have been better off putting trail cameras on all of the paths into Mordor!

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  • The big, bold, redbacks of Buckland

    “No, Mr Baggins has gone away. Went this morning, and my Sam went with him: anyway, all his stuff went. Yes, sold out and gone, I teller. Why? Why’s none of my business, or yours. Where to? That ain’t no secret. He’s moved to Bucklebury or some such place, way done yonder. Yes it is – a tidy way. I’ve never been so far myself; they’re queer folks in Buckland. No, I can’t give no message. Good night to you!” JRR Tolkien – The Fellowship of the Ring

    One of the greatest illustrations of Tolkien’s work, IMHO, The Gaffer and the Black Rider by Stephen Hickman.

    I’ve always liked this passage where old Gaffer Gamgee is talking, unbeknown, to a nazghul. It is an important story point but delivered in the type of conversation that you could hear all over the world. ‘Those people that live 20 – 30 km away are just so different and weird!‘ Are the people of Buckland really so different to the good, honest folk of the Shire? If so, how did this happen by simply crossing a river?

    There is a question around invasive species whether the individuals that arrive in a new area are just a random selection of the individuals (and their traits) that live in their home area or whether they represent a group of individuals with consistent and particular traits that make them more likely to have successfully invaded the new area.

    For example, all humans in Aotearoa/New Zealand have arrived from outside these shores over the last 1000 years. Were the people that made their way here more bold and explorative than the rest who stayed behind? Or were they no different than their neighbours who stayed at home? Maybe they just simply had the opportunity to go?

    These ideas are important in thinking about why invasive species are successful at establishing or not. If any old random subset of the population can turn up then they are less often going to successful at establishing (they may not be fit-for-purpose!) compared to if they arrive with skills that allow them to survive better in a new environment (or even to survive the journey).

    Being large might help give invasive individuals an advantage over native species. Likewise, producing more offspring, growing faster, being bold, exploring more, dispersing sooner, having a broader diet, could all help with invading and establishing.

    What about our Bucklanders?

    “Long ago Gorhendad Oldbuck, head of the Oldbuck family, one of the oldest in the Marish or indeed in the Shire [has had high evolutionary fitness over many generations], had crossed the river [successfully able to disperse relative to other hobbits and to explore more], which was the original boundary of the land eastwards. He built (and excavated) Brandy Hall, changed his name to Brandybuck, and settled down to become master of what was virtually a small independent country. His family grew and grew [high fecundity in offspring production], and after his days, continued to grow, until Brandy Hall occupied the whole of the low hill, and had three large front-doors, many side-doors, and about a hundred windows. The Brandybucks and their numerous dependants then began to burrow, and later to build, all round about … The people in the Marish were friendly with the Bucklanders … But most of the folk of the old Shire regarded the Bucklanders as peculiar, half foreigners as it were [suggests a slightly different distribution of traits compared to the parent population].Though, as a matter of fact, they were not very different from the other hobbits of the Four Farthings. Except in one point: they were fond of boats, and some of them could swim [bold and innovative behaviours].” JRR Tolkien- The Fellowship of the Ring

    Captive redback with web. Image by Adrian Paterson.

    We are also told elsewhere that the Brandybucks and Tooks (another bold lineage of hobbits) are generally taller than average Shire hobbits. Tolkien, as I have said in many other places (taxonomy of orcs and hobbits, evolutionary biology ideas, burrow architecture, mammal pest management, fire and ecosystems), was rather accurate when it came to integrating biology into his writing. Did he get it right here?

    To test this invasion idea you need a species that is well-studied in it’s native range as well as in its colonising range. You also need to be able to measure all of those traits. Spiders fit the bill nicely. They’re small and have short generations, are easy to fit into small experimental set ups, and some are venomous and, therefore, well studied. Enter the redback spider (Latrodectus hasselti), invasive in Japan and New Zealand and well studied in its Australian homeland.

    Cor Vink, New Zealand’s leading arachnologist, joined a group based in Toronto, Canada headed by Monica Mowery, to look at individuals from these three areas. They measured the size of individuals (bigger is usually better in interactions with competitors), their egg sac production (producing more young may give you more opportunities for at least some surviving), and length of generation times in captive populations (shorter allows for faster replacement, longer allows for larger more long-lived individuals).

    A redback – amazing photo from the talented Bryce McQuillan

    They measured the behaviour of the redbacks, such as frequency of cannibalism (you never know when a snack might come in handy!). Also, individual spiders were placed in a new environment and the speeds at which they started spinning webs (exploration) or moving after being exposed to a puff of wind (boldness) were measured. Spiders were also placed into a warm arena with a small simulated breeze to see whether they would balloon (effectively float away in the wind) or rappel (climb using their web silk) away from the start point (dispersal).

    The outcomes from this work were published in Biological Invasions. Redbacks from the invasive populations showed more dispersal behaviour than the home populations. They also tended to be larger in size, more cannibalistic, and produced more offspring. Interestingly, the redbacks in Japan and New Zealand did not seem to be more bold or explorative than in Aussie. Overall though, the invasive populations looked and acted differently to the source population.

    It appears that populations that successfully disperse and establish in new areas might do so because they are settled by individuals with useful traits that differ a little from the source population. This may help us to figure out which species potentially pose the most invasive threats.

    What about those strange Bucklanders? The Gaffer was mostly right. They are a bit different. Bucklanders are a population that managed to successfully disperse to an isolated area. Bucklanders are larger and more fecund. Tolkien does not record whether the Bucklanders tended to be more cannibalistic than hobbits in the Shire, but that would be a prediction!

    We can certainly sympathise with the Gaffer’s concerns about his Sam going to live among them.

  • All the small things

    History, just one damned thing after another.

    With the recent death of Queen Elizabeth II, we have had plenty of summaries of the big events during her life. There were tragedies, wars, inventions, politicians, jubilees, corgis and so on. Society when she was born was incredibly different to when she died. It’s tempting to ascribe the overall change in the world to all of these big events. But should we?

    In evolution, we tend to focus on some of the big transitions; water to land, cold-blooded to warm-blooded, quadrupedal to bipedal, small brain to large brain. However, if we know one thing about evolution, it is that it occurs in populations not individuals. Yes there was an individual that was the first to be fully terrestrial, but they lived in a population where almost everyone else was 95% terrestrial. And for generations afterwards there would still have been a range of commitment to this completely dry new lifestyle.

    Small and steady wins the race… Termites make up for in numbers what they lack in size. Image by Adrian Paterson.

    Evolutionary change involves hundreds to thousands of interactions each day in a local population of a species (and with just as many individuals of other species in the local ecosystem). It is the outcome of all of these small interactions that ultimately adds up and leads to change. The same applies to human history.

    I have just started watching the show It’s always sunny in Philadelphia. The first season was filmed in 2005. What is really noticeable is the lack of phones. 2005 was two years before the iPhone was released. Scenes of people walking down Philly streets are quite unnerving to modern eyes as there are no phones in shot – everyone is looking up and around. There is a scene at a university where students are walking around with sheets of paper! And pens!

    The origin of smart phones was a big event. But it was the small actions of billions of people using smart phones in thousands of different ways (not envisioned by the inventors) that have created our current world.

    Central Christchurch was wrecked by a series of earthquakes in 2010-11. Image by Adrian Paterson.

    Closer to home, the Christchurch earthquakes of 2010/11 were Big Events. However, it was the responses of all of the people in Canterbury for the last decade that have created the new buildings, infrastructure, a generation with heightened anxiety, different views about what’s safe and so on. All these small things add up to large changes.

    Tim Curran and Azhar Alam from Lincoln University joined 107 colleagues from around the world to look at how termites might respond to climate change scenarios. You don’t get a lot of things smaller than an individual termite. The life of one termite seems fairly inconsequential in the big scheme of things. However, termites have an important role in breaking down wood in ecosystems. At 133 sites around the world, the decay of pine woodblocks was measured over four years by this great gaggle* of researchers.

    New Zealand has only nine species of termites, from four families (and five of those are likely to have been introduced). So they are not as dominant in their role here as in many parts of the world. Still, they can be in large numbers locally where they are found.

    ‘Termite-y’ – a pine tree is eaten one bit at a time! Image by Adrian Paterson.

    Climate features at each site in the study were measured by local researchers (hence the gaggle!) and there was a clear link between increased wood decay and warmer temperatures. Decay from termites increased by about 7% for every increase in 10 degree C. A consequence is clear. As the world warms, termites will be more likely to expand their ranges, expand their numbers, and decompose more wood.

    That sounds great for the termites, and it is. In a warming world they will do very well. But every single tiny termite wood meal will ultimately unlock carbon safely stored in wood so that it is back in play. Multiply that by a trillion snacks and a large amount of extra carbon will end up in the atmosphere and temperatures will continue to increase. All these small meals add up to large changes for an ecosystem and the world.

    Big events are really just markers along the way. They are typically no more important than road signs are to a journey. In the end it’s all the small things that really matter.

    * not sure on the collective noun for researchers…. a reach of researchers? an N of scientists? an explosion of experimenters?