O brave new world of fantastic beasts

Posted on behalf of Stuart Pimm and his research group

Fantastic BeastsFrom the start, European visitors to the New World have celebrated its fantastic biodiversity. What looks like a scarlet macaw embellishes German cartographer Martin Waldseemüller’s 1507 world map, the first to name these lands “America”. Eighty years later the English artist John White, a governor during England’s first attempt at settling North Carolina, was painting fireflies, “which in the night [emit] a flame of fire” (a sight of pure magic on a warm summer’s evening).

And in the 1920s, magizoologist Newt Scamander — with portable menagerie in tow — visited New York with the entirely laudable aim of returning a thunderbird to its home in Arizona. Thus begins Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, the David Yates-directed film based on J.K. Rowling’s book of the same name – one of the set texts her boy wizard, Harry Potter, must study at school.

With my research group, including graduate students Alexandra Sutton, Ryan Huang and Rubén Palacio, I had waited anxiously for this new treatment of Scamander’s classic work on the natural history, biogeography and conservation status of the world’s biodiversity invisible to muggles. (That’s you non-wizards.) We entered the seminar room (transformed to resemble a movie theatre), surrounded by young wizards in Hogwarts’ school uniforms. We had many questions in mind.

Would this hidden biodiversity be as diverse and unexpected as that encountered by the first European settlers in the Americas? How would species be distributed across different biomes? Rowling’s previous accounts of the fauna around Hogwarts have merely hinted at the range of possible species, obviously limited to the school’s location in Scotland. Northern, island ecosystems have few species, albeit a plethora of owls.

Here be dragons

Scamander’s ‘zoo’ fits into a single suitcase, which like Doctor Who’s Tardis is very much larger on the inside. And in we go, where we quickly learn of a wide variety of species mostly unknown to the muggle world. We expected dragons, of course. The theoretical ecologist Robert May and colleagues have discussed them in the pages of this journal and, indeed, predicted their resurgence with global warming (Nature 264, 16-17 (1976); Nature 520, 42-43 (2015).

There are many other species. We see the range of ecosystems occupied, extending beyond the Americas and ranging from frozen Arctic wastes to African savannahs. In the latter, we encounter what could be a horned relative of the gargantuan rhinoceros Paraceratherium, long thought to be extinct. Nor does Scamander neglect those world rulers, the arthropods: there are stag beetles as big as dogs. And a relative of the praying mantis, though it does not pray and, despite exhortations, cannot even be persuaded to smile. Australian fauna are also included, with an engaging duck-billed platypus relative that has a bowerbird’s propensity to collect things — in this case, shiny coins and jewellery.

Dan Fogler as Jacob, Eddie Redmayne as Newt Scamander and a beast called a Bowtruckle in Warner Bros. Pictures' fantasy adventure Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

Dan Fogler as Jacob, Eddie Redmayne as Newt Scamander and a beast called a Bowtruckle in Warner Bros. Pictures’ fantasy adventure Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.{credit}© 2016 Warner Bros. Fantastic Beasts © JKR{/credit}

Following the presentation, I asked my students: What were the key management issues in the magical world? And how do they compare and contrast to those that muggles experience in their world?

Alexandra noted Scamander’s contradictions: “He’s often the conservationist and he advocates the education of fellow wizards about the value of these magical beasts in their world. But he’s also the collector, keeping wild animals as pets in an environment that’s not necessarily suited to them”. The tension here recalls the species-bagging of early naturalists such as the eccentric Lionel Walter Rothschild, whose vast collection is now held at London’s Natural History Museum.

Species in Scamander’s zoo escape and cause considerable physical damage to New York. It takes much magic to undo the damage, an option unavailable to muggle professionals facing invasive species. As Ryan put it, the movie is also a reminder that “with keeping animals captive comes the callousness by which people traffic in beasts”.

Much of this callousness is borne of our growing separation from the natural world. Rubén reflected: “Some species are mighty, and if not treated correctly, can be dangerous, but this comes from our ignorance. Scamander…understands and engages the animals.” Ryan agreed: “Even though there have been very few wolf attacks on humans, people still fear wolves. Scamander affirms that we humans are the most dangerous beasts of all. When we are scared, we lash out.”

And my view? It tallies with Scamander’s. He asks why “magical beasts, even those that are savage and untameable”, are protected. The answer? To “ensure that future generations enjoy their strange beauty…as we have been privileged to do”.

Stuart Pimm is professor of conservation at the Nicholas School of the Environment, Duke University, Durham, North Carolina, and directs the non-profit SavingSpecies, www.savingspecies.orgHe tweets at @StuartPimm.

 

For Nature’s full coverage of science in culture, visit www.nature.com/news/booksandarts.

Biophilia in the Anthropocene

Conservation scientist M. Sanjayan on the African plains.

Conservation scientist M. Sanjayan on the African plains.{credit}Passion Planet{/credit}

Are we all feeling a bit epochal? The Anthropocene — the brave new era of pervasive human impact on Earth systems — is due for scientific acceptance (or not) in 2016. Meanwhile, it is proving fertile ground for pop-sci, from Diane Ackerman’s The Human Age to Gaia Vince’s Adventures in the Anthropocene (reviewed here and here). Now the notion has floated far enough along the mainstream to reach TV with the five-part PBS series Earth: A New Wild, kicking off tonight.

The focus here is that rich, fraught edge environment where wild animals and humanity commingle or collide. M. Sanjayan presents. An ecologist who spent part of his childhood in Sierra Leone, he offers both scientific chops and an understanding of rural realities in developing countries.

Not least, the series shows development policy schemes in action — such as payments for ecosystem services, which enable poor communities in wilderness regions to steward the land and keep it wild. The programme is unusual in mixing such development paradigms with anthropocenic touches such as a lament for the catastrophically drained Aral Sea, or an industrial architect’s plans to reintroduce oysters round Manhattan.

Sanjayan is no magisterial David Attenborough. Yet he is engaged, sometimes eloquent — and endearingly thrilled, whether he’s gazing at infant giant pandas in a Chinese rewilding facility, or getting stuck in a metre of mud tracking tigers in Bangladesh.

With his crew, he racked up 45 shoots in 29 countries for the series — from Malawi to Mexico, Brazil and the United States, looking in turn at forests, encroached habitats, oceans, plains and freshwater. The gorgeous footage includes some from thermal cameras, which transform lions hunting at night in Africa’s Rift Valley into ghosts on the prowl.

Cherrypicked, not sanitised

While cherrypicked, Sanjayan’s encounters are not sanitised. In the forests of Ecuador’s biodiversity hotspot the Intangible Zone he meets a group of indigenous Waorani, whose knowledge of the Amazonian environment is encyclopaedic. Their shaman matter-of-factly relates how he and other members of the community killed several oil prospectors. Such scenes are interspersed with shots of wild boar tiptoeing to a waterhole and parrots nibbling nutrient-rich mud.

The Samburu of northern Kenya dig wells used by both wildlife and their herds.

The Samburu of northern Kenya dig wells used by both their herds, and wildlife.{credit}Courtesy of Ami Vitale{/credit}

The scattered communities of Waorani may not reflect the Amazon’s past. Sanjayan points to geometric earthworks in forest clearings, some dating to 2,000 years ago and so vast and numerous that they suggest a human population as high as 60,000. Terra preta soils left by ancient peoples, engineered from biochar and human waste, have left 10% of the Amazon highly fertile, indicating how such hordes might have subsisted.

The concept of Earth as sustainable smorgasbord is thematic. The ocean-forest ecosystem of Canada’s Great Bear Rainforest, where 5 million acres are off limits to logging, is a goldmine for wolves, salmon, bears, eagles and humans — all thanks to the great Pacific herring run. The fish leave billions of fertilised eggs washed up on the coasts, a pearly caviar relished by wildlife and harvested sustainably by the Heiltsuk, a First Nation people who sink pine trees into the water to snag the eggs. The forest is fed in turn when salmon eat the herring and swim up the creeks; half-eaten by bears, their remains rot down to fertilise the soil.

Such ‘ecosystem services’ are not all passive. Many plains species, Sanjayan shows, are active farmers. Zimbabwean biologist Alan Savory led a cull of over 40,000 elephants decades ago to regenerate the land. When the measure failed, Savory did a U-turn, and now posits that even larger herds are needed. Elephants, he notes, efficiently aerate, fertilise and seed the earth; the trick is keeping them tightly bunched and on the move via humans or predators.

Montana rancher Bryan Ulring, who has regenerated his acreage by changing his cattle's behaviour.

Montana rancher Bryan Ulring, who has regenerated his land by changing his cattle’s behaviour.{credit}Ami Vitale/The Nature Conservancy{/credit}

Like mobile ploughs and fertilising machines in one, the packed animals stir up the earth and deposit dung and urine, patch by patch. Testing the theory with cattle, Savory shows how grasses and even waterholes on his land have recovered. Thousands of kilometres away in Montana near Yellowstone National Park, rancher Bryan Ulring is successfully replicating the method, inspired by the harrying power of rewilded wolves. With the land regreened, rare birds such as the sage grouse are returning.

Such empirical evidence saves the series from becoming yet more ethological or anthropological eye candy, although quibbles remain — such as too much footage of baby pandas. However, in the growing body of popular science on the Anthropocene, Earth: A New Wild is a welcome fusion of conservation and development that reinserts the human into Eden. It gives the extraordinary people who live alongside iconic animals their due.

Take the man in the Sundarbans whose father was killed by a tiger. However grief-stricken, he makes his living in the mangroves and understands the tiger’s place in them: the forests would not exist without their ‘ecology of fear’. Nature is never complacent. We might learn that lesson from it.

Earth: A New Wild is produced by National Geographic Studios in association with Passion Planet, and directed by Nicholas Brown.

 

For Nature’s full coverage of science in culture, visit www.nature.com/news/booksandarts.