In New Zealand, deerstalkers have issued a grovelling apology after four critically endangered takahē were shot dead during a government cull of pukeko, a common and superficially similar-looking bird. In Australia Queensland’s government has been criticised for authorising the killing of 621 sharks – a futile gesture about being seen to be doing something after shark attacks on surfers.
These culls illustrate three uncomfortable truths about the organised killing of wildlife for a specific purpose: mistakes happen; there are always unintended consequences; and culls are hugely unpopular.
These truths have been most vividly demonstrated by the secretive and chaotic English badger cull, set to commence for its third year at the end of the summer holidays. This four-year pilot is to test the efficacy, humaneness and safety of shooting badgers at night to reduce TB in cattle. A panel of independent experts concluded that the cull’s first year was safe but did not meet the government’s humaneness targets. It was also inefficient, killing not the required 70% of badgers, but less than 40% in Gloucestershire and under 50% in Somerset.
Perhaps because these eminent scientists hadn’t conjured up the correct result, the government scrapped this panel and continued the cull without scientific scrutiny. Last year, 341 badgers were killed in Gloucestershire, far short of the 615 minimum target; the target was reached in Somerset but only because this was incredibly low: “rubbish” according to one scientist.
A key supporter of the cull, the British Veterinary Association, has since declared that the government should ban the “free shooting” of badgers at night, judging it would be more humane to trap them before shooting them. If you go to the trouble of trapping badgers, you might as well vaccinate them instead, as the Welsh administration is doing. Vaccination is scientifically proven to reduce bovine TB in badgers. Bizarrely, it is also much cheaper than killing them.
The most striking evidence from the cull is its cost to the taxpayer: £5,200 per dead badger in its first year. Pro-cullers blame this expense on protesters who necessitate expensive police operations, but these extremists/principled animal lovers (you decide) are part of the nation’s human ecology and we can’t cull them, much though a few farmers might wish to.
The lesser spotted human
I’m undertaking some lovely research which requires traipsing through the English countryside. I can’t yet reveal my story but here’s one exclusive from my travels: Homo sapiens is rarer than the red kite in our rural landscape. Footpaths and fields are bereft of farmers, dog-walkers and children. Where is everyone? I find the answer whenever I struggle to cross a main road: we’re hurtling in metal crates from one urban location to another. Actually, most of the time we’re not hurtling: London is now the most congested city in Europe, with drivers spending 12 working days a year stuck in traffic.
Insects in the city
At least green spaces in cities are more cherished than ever, and many visitors enjoying the Edinburgh Festival will have climbed Arthur’s Seat for a panoramic view. This famous hillside has a secret history as a magnet for species-hunters: the first specimen of the northern brown argus butterfly was probably found here in the 18th century, and the discoveries keep on coming. The bordered brown lacewing, an insect feared to be extinct in Britain for 30 years, was rediscovered there this summer by Mike Smith, of the People’s Trust for Endangered Species. I wouldn’t know a bordered brown lacewing if it landed on my arm, but its rediscovery shows the importance of green space in urban areas – for overlooked invertebrates, and for human pleasures such as the sheer thrill of discovery.
