Extinction On My Mind /4: A reconsideration of invasive species
How can anything possibly be considered invasive or nonnative if it’s native to Earth?
By Randi Hacker
September 16, 2024
Lately, I have been rethinking the whole concept of invasive species. So, it appears, has Inside Climate News, whose article about barred owls also questions the very idea of what it means to be invasive, of what it means to be nonnative. Fundamentally, it seems to me, that it’s all about us wanting to control the environment, regulate it and territorialize it. We say we don’t want invasive species to compete with native species. But what is a native species? Native to what? Animals migrate. Plants spread. Lifeforms relocate and establish themselves in new places. It has always been thus. In fact, you might even call humans invasive since we infiltrated areas that had been otherwise and for millennia free of human inhabitants. And we competed with and, I might add, successfully eradicated and radically changed every environment we’ve ever settled in. And by “settled in,” of course, I mean coopted, taken over, claimed in the name of human rights. I’ve gone off the idea of human rights. It’s overrated. But that’s the subject of another essay.
For the most part, I think, the whole objection to invasive species revolves around preserving those species, plant and animal, that please us aesthetically and benefit us and, most importantly, don’t annoy us or threaten us
For the most part, I think, the whole objection to invasive species revolves around preserving those species, plant and animal, that please us aesthetically and benefit us and, most importantly, don’t annoy us or threaten us: We want barred owls to live here; we want knotweed to stay there; we want Japanese beetles to disappear, wolves to lope only in remote forests, and jumping worms to stay the hell out of our gardens.
So we have created templates for ideal environments, ones that recommend – some might say force – those environments to conform to our anthrosupremacist construct of what they should look like and who should live there, to conform to our anthropocentric conclusions about biodiversity and healthy ecosystems, ones that include plenty of places to skateboard and ski and bike; ones that include pleasing vistas of trees and flowers and wildlife… but only certain types of wildlife. Like those barred owls, for example; we claim those barred owls are invasive because they interfere with an ecosystem where we have decided they don’t belong because that’s where we want the northern spotted owls to be. As if migration and territorial expansion were not a right of every living earthling, as if we were in charge as if we really understood what Earth needs to survive. Which, of course, we don’t. We can’t possibly. How can we? We haven’t been here long enough.
If we take ourselves out of the equation altogether, however, three new considerations present themselves.
The first is that Audrey II notwithstanding, there is no such thing as an invasive species. How can anything possibly be considered invasive, or, indeed, nonnative if it’s native to Earth? And when things migrate and change the way we’ve decided something ought to be, well, maybe it’s our limited overview of history or our grasp of the unspooling of time that’s flawed. Perhaps, in the long run, in the passage of millennia, these migrations, these invasions are just what the greater ecosystem needs to thrive. We don’t know. How can we? We haven’t been here long enough.
The second is that surely Earth, with her nearly five billion years of flux and change and multifarious lifeforms that have come and gone, knows what she’s doing. With this perspective, it’s possible to believe that what is happening now – extreme weather, melting glaciers, warming waters, wildfires – is Earth doing what she needs to do to remain a life-giving planet, one that is unique in this solar system and, perhaps, the entire universe.
If we’re honest, we have to admit that we have no idea what Earth needs to survive. How do we know that ash borers and kudzu and zebra mussels aren’t all part of the recovery plan? We don’t. And instead of holding on to biodiversity, what if we let it go? Maybe all this biodiverse multitasking is the last thing Earth needs at this time; it requires so much energy to maintain such a variety of lifeforms, each with its own needs and preferences and support systems. Maybe focusing on something closer to a monoculture would be more restorative.
‘If we’re honest, we have to admit that we have no idea what Earth needs to survive. How do we know that ash borers and kudzu and zebra mussels aren’t all part of the recovery plan?’
The third consideration is that it has become clearer and clearer to me that the survival of humans and the survival of the planet are mutually exclusive. And that whenever we say, “Save the planet,” we must never lose sight of the fact that what we are saving the planet from is ourselves. We are the single most destructive species this planet has ever engendered. The one thing that we, as humans, have been one hundred percent successful at in our short history is destruction.
It’s interesting to me that most of the species that have become extinct during the course of human existence have become extinct because of us.
The extinction of humans follows this tradition.
The question is this: Can Earth recover and renew herself?
Years ago, I visited Nürnberg and stood, high above Zeppelin Field, which stretched away gray and empty, in the exact spot where Hitler stood when he addressed a massive crowd at the Nazi Party rally grounds. The brutal concrete structures, the bleachers, the steps, and the towers surrounding the space, had been allowed to fall into ruin. I say “allowed” because I interpret it as a way of making manifest the German wish to discard the past without expunging it, without forgetting it. This was a place of desecration and bloodlust, and yet, in the angle between the riser and seat in one row of the bleachers, out of the sharp and unforgiving cement, there grew a single sturdy flower. Yellow. It might have been a dandelion. I don’t remember. And it doesn’t matter what it was. What matters is that it was renewal at its unexpected best.
I guess what I’m saying is that if we really want to save this planet, this one-of-a-kind planet, with its almost mythological ability to create and sustain life, we have to leave it. And not just alone – though that would be a propitious start– but for good. And quite honestly, when I picture Earth without humans, I can almost hear her sighing in relief. Or maybe that’s me.
Feature image: Nesrin Öztürk
Other articles by Randi Hacker
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Randi Hacker has been a writer and editor since the 20th century, and she’s been writing about the environment for more than thirty years, mostly to empower young people to take agency in their future. Satirical essays written with a partner appeared in the New York Times Book Review, Punch and Spy, among other publications. Her YA novel, Life As I Knew It, (Simon & Schuster) was named one of the Books for the Teen Age by the NY Public Library, and her TV show, Windy Acres, written with Jay Craven, was nominated for a New England Emmy for Writing. She just retired from her position as the resolutions copy editor for the State of Vermont, a job that has forever damaged her relationship with the comma. randihacker.com
Ms. Hacker’s essay has many things in common with other attempts over the years to deny the problem of invasive species. Yes, of course, humans are an invasive species, and highly destructive, but we are also uniquely fitted to heal that which we have damaged. It’s not clear how Ms. Hacker, who mentions no scientific training in her background, can judge us incapable of understanding how nature works. People have studied the human body’s biology, the better to heal it. Why would we be considered incapable of doing the same for natural systems?
People who are quick to say that species are “native to earth” and that invasiveness does not exist surely don’t feel that way about pathogens that invade their own bodies. Sensible people do not wax fatalistic about imbalances in their own bodies, but rather seek ways to quell invasions and regain physiological balance. Earth deserves the same sensible response.
And no, it has not “always been thus” that plants and animals have moved from one continent to another at the current extremely rapid rate. This is something we, with our assisted mobility, have done, and we need to take responsibility for the radical change we have wrought.
Similarly, the “extreme weather, melting glaciers, warming waters, wildfires” are not, as the writer fancies, “Earth doing what she needs to do.” These are symptoms of a planet being poisoned by a rapid 50% rise in carbon dioxide, due to our machines’ emissions. A doctor who interpreted a victim of poisoning with a similarly laissez faire attitude would be considered unfit.
I write this as someone with two science degrees and decades of experience working to restore habitat. I’ve written many reviews of books, articles and opeds dismissive of the problem of invasive species.
I have never bought-in to the invasive species hysteria which is often used by hunters and animal industries to justify culls and even the eradications of speciies. Change is a constant, and I fear interfearing with natural environmental processes may be the wrong approach.
I would add here that though I’ve invested some 58 years protecting animals, up to and including sick and injured wildlife, that I’m not a true conservationist ( a true conservationist would let nature take it’s course)
So we’ll conveniently ignore the basic fact that invasive alien species don’t move by themselves? In almost every case, humans have been the vector to enable invasion with the resultant costs in billions of dollars to primary industry and the impossible to calculate costs to ecological services. I’d have hoped that in a “post Covid” world, people would have a better grasp on the concept of biosecurity. Invasive species threaten food security and ecosystem stability.
Anthropomorphism of the planet is a disingenuous Furphy that achieves nothing but to denigrate the work of science based conservation. This is right up there with saying “God’s will” to explain where the sun goes at night.
Unfortunately there is a pervading idea that everyone is entitled to an opinion. The fact is that an uninformed opinion is utterly worthless. The opinion expressed here is a perfect example.
I can pretty much guarantee that anyone who works with invasive species in a science based conservation space will be more than happy to personally show the author what we are fighting to save and why it’s important. The author will need to pay their own way though, as our budgets are better spent achieving outcomes on the ground.
I can appreciate a lot of what is being said here, though not necessarely in the manner it is being conveyed.
As for myself, I’m neither a scientist, nor a true conservationist. I am simply an average person who has invested many years in the field of animal advocacy. I agree that there are no shortages of opinions, and that, ill-informed opinions can cause a great deal of damage unless; supported by a compassionate lifestyle that mirrors that opinion. This is not to suggest that I’m opposed to science, it merely to say that I don’t let science governm what defines me. I remind myself that it was once argued, by the educated minds of the day, that the world was flat. This was of course until someone argued that it was not.
To embrace Entruchio Marchubar’s basica arguments, in almost unilateral support for scientific approach and to argue that anthropomorphic belief can only instigate harm, undermines the true essence of humans. Are we to suppress feelings such as love, emotion, compassion, empathy etc. simply because they appear to undermine some scientific terms of reference?
Perhaps I’m wrong, at least in part, but my views and actions have helped many, both human and not, rigth here on the ground, and not, as suggested by Entruchio Marchubar, somewhere up in fantasi land.
I very much appreciate Randi Hacker’s take on the whole “invasive species” issue. I have long had a gnawing doubt that the popular view of labeling various species as “invasive” is wrong. It is a narrow view of what we perceive nature should look like and is often based on an atavistic desire to return to a state where we feel more secure.
That said, I am also a staunch proponent of using the scientific method to eliminate bias and provide solid, factual answers for our inquiring minds. Science can tell us what is happening and why but I would argue that it can’t tell us what is right or wrong. Ethics enhances science. We need both.
Ms. Hacker hits the nail on the head regarding what is driving our desire to eliminate some species and bolster others. We want control – but control is an illusion.
The best action we can take is to change ourselves: consume less; love more; go vegan; and expand our sphere of compassion.
Entruchio Marchubar, by stating, “invasive alien species don’t move by themselves”, has misread Randi Hacker’s essay, which makes it very clear that his definition of “invasive alien species” includes species occurring by whatever means where they were previously unknown, and gives as a primary example the barred owl, now “invading” the domain of the closely related spotted owl. The barred owl did this because of anthropogenic actions but did so on its own. No one stuck barred owls in cages and moved them west for release.
Virtually all species of wildlife in Quebec are invasive, not having been there prior to about ten or twelve thousand years ago when the region was under an immense layer of ice. I’ve seen species like the little gull go from breeding only in Europe to being a native North American species nesting near me, in my own lifetime. Is it “invasive”?
In my own lifetime, I’ve seen numerous other examples of species moving “by themselves”, a phenomenon perhaps better termed “natural range expansions”, but that begs the question of what is “natural”?
Hacker’s point was that the concerns raised by people like Marchubar are anthropocentric, reflecting values, many of which I share, that are not absolute. Science is value-free. Marchubar clearly is thinking of range expansions caused by either unintended or deliberate human action, which can range from emerald ash borers arriving in raw wood from Asia or zebra mussels in ships that took on ballast from the Black Sea to emerging viruses in fur farms or “wet markets” to species that were moved by deliberate human action, such as the cane toads of Australia or the starling, here because some folks thought it cool to have every bird species mentioned in his writings by Shakespeare in England also present in America. (Will only mentioned the starling once.)
Marchubar throws in a non-sequitur by saying anthropomorphism is disingenuous because Hacker was not being anthropomorphic; rather, he was successfully teasing out the anthropocentric, but still subjective, driver of policies that lead to such atrocious actions as the mass slaughter of barred owls – atrocious, of course, by common value systems most of us have that, when acted on, protect biodiversity. We don’t like to see the deliberate mass slaughter of wildlife.
Barred and spotted owls obviously diverged from relatively recent common ancestry, thus their ability to produce viable hybrid offspring. It would not be the first time a new species so emerged – evolution does not grind to a half when taxonomists name something. Predation of spotted owls by the more robust barred reflects the fact that barred owls eat smaller owls… period. That is only good or bad as we subjectively deem it to be; science merely confirms that it happens.
The risk to species survival posed by the arrival, by any means, of a new species, is mostly confined to oceanic islands with high rates of endemism (species found there but nowhere else) and even then the number lost as a result of the presence of newly arrived species – however they arrived – is small compared to those lost to direct human persecution – from New Zealand’s fabled moas to our own great auk. Not a single vertebrate species that went extinct in North America did so as a result of non-human invasive species although several have been driven to endangerment. Whenever humans have arrived in new landscapes, including North America over ten thousand years ago, extinctions follow.
We are beginning to appreciate, as Hacker explained to my satisfaction as a life-long conservationist, that nature is not a steady-state museum diorama but exists as infinitely dynamic, always changing in response to cause-and-effect realities of complexity beyond human comprehension.
I would love to see humans control their actions in such a manner as to reduce the harm we do to our own, human self-interests, for example by banning all import or export of any plant or animal species, their parts or their derivatives; banning the exotic pet trade and zoo and aquarium trade; banning the intercontinental movement of livestock; banning the consumption of bushmeat – all implicated in various results deleterious to conservation values and/or human health or commercial interests, but we know that such actions will also be deemed negative to other anthropocentric interests and it is hard to make them happen.
Whether we consider human actions, thus the results of those actions, to be “natural” or not, they are a reality that requires the kind of thoughtful assessment of our activities that Hacker has provided and Marchubar denigrated.