Dangerous cargo: the accidental spread of alien organisms via commercial shipping

It's often said that whichever culture and environment we grow up in is the one we consider as the norm. Whilst my great-grandparents were born before the invention of heavier-than-air flying machines, I've booked numerous long-haul flights without considering much beyond their monetary and environmental cost. Yet this familiarity with our fast and efficient global transportation network masks an unpleasant side effect: it is second only to habitat loss when it comes to endangering biodiversity.

Although many environmental campaigns focus on fossil fuels, deforestation and unsustainable agricultural practices, the (mostly inadvertent) transportation of alien plants, animals and fungi from one region to another has quietly but catastrophically reduced biodiversity in many areas of the planet.

The earliest example I recall learning about was Stephen Jay Gould's heart-felt description of the extinction of French Polynesia's partulid tree snails at the hands of introduced carnivorous snails intended to control edible snail species (which were also deliberately introduced). While the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries saw large numbers of species intentionally established in areas far from their natural territories, the past half century has seen an acceleration in equally disastrous accidental introductions as a by-product of international trade.

A potential starting point for invasion ecology as a discipline in its own right was Oxford professor Charles Elton's 1958 publication The Ecology of Invasions by Animals and Plants. The International Union for Conservation of Nature's Red List of Threatened Species followed six years later. Clearly, the negative effects of our activities were starting to become known. But has enough been done to publicise it in the intervening decades?

The Red list is the most accurate data source for regional biodiversity and the population health of all organisms known to science; yet few non-specialists seem even aware of its existence. Indeed, several decades passed after the list's creation before invasive biology became an important subject in professional ecology. Over the past thirty years the topic has seen a ten-fold increase in publications and citations - a sign of recognition if ever there was one - although mainstream media appears barely aware of its existence.

The IUCN's Invasive Species Specialist Group aids governments and organisations in planning the monitoring, containment, and where possible, destruction of invasive species. It runs the publicly-available Global Invasive Species Database, but its online presence appears to be poorly funded, or at least coordinated. Rather than a central hub there is a plethora of websites featuring varying degrees of professionalism and some distinctly out-of-date content. Perhaps clients are given direct instructions, but as a member of the public I found the ISSG sites bewildering in their variety.

Needless to say, when it does come to taking action, it can be assumed that economic imperatives such as agricultural pests take precedence over preservation of other endangered species. The only country I know of that is attempting a nation-wide eradication of most invasive animals (note: not plants and fungi) is New Zealand, with our Predator Free 2050 project. However, I'm uncertain how realistic it is. Even pre-Covid it appears to have lacked a solid funding source and now - with thirty years and counting until the deadline - there's even less chance of a comprehensive removal of numerous pest species.

What the Predator Free 2050 plan doesn't include is the multitude of plants and animals that slip through the net, so to speak: the legion of species currently invading our offshore environment. It's one thing to actually see land-based plants and animals, but the ocean is largely unknown territory to most people. With over forty thousand cargo vessels moving around the globe every year there is plenty of opportunity for organisms, especially their larval forms, to be inadvertently spread to new territories via both hulls and ballast water. Whilst Killer Algae (a slight hint there in the common name for Caulerpa taxifolia) and the Chinese mitten crab aren't as well-known as Japanese knotweed and Common myna bird they are just two of the many dangerous invaders spreading ever further from their original territories.

It isn't just marine vessels that can carry such dangerous cargo: the immense amount of plastic waste in our oceans can serve as life rafts for the propagation of alien species, albeit at the whim of currents moving rather slower than diesel power. The problem of course is that the oceans are enormous and so the only time the issue becomes known about is when an invasive organism is spotted encroaching in coastal waters. Unfortunately, marine lifeforms can't be easily dealt with using the traps and poison that work on land-based entities; indeed, international regulations seem as much concerned with the dangers of anti-fouling systems as with the issues they prevent.

In 2011 the International Maritime Organization implemented guidelines to minimise vessel biofouling as it relates to the accidental incursions of invasive marine organisms. New Zealand was the first of several nations to execute their own national strategy that turned these guidelines into mandatory practice - and take them further. In addition, New Zealand's National Institute of Water and Atmospheric Research (NIWA) runs annual surveys, particularly around ports, but otherwise their funding appears inadequate to the immensity of the task. 

It's all very well keeping track of the ever-increasing list of resident invasive species around the nation's coastline, but little has been done to remove them. With about 150 types of alien organism now in residence around New Zealand's coast and the same again in occasional visitors, NIWA has been a partner in international competitions aimed at finding pest management solutions, at least for coastal ecosystems if not the deep ocean. Obvious solutions such as scrubbing hulls would just lead to direct contamination of ports, so some new thinking is clearly required.

Of course, the use of cargo ships is unlikely to reduce any time soon. Our global marine transport network is far from in decline and many nations lack the stringent precautions that New Zealand and Australia are now implementing. It has been estimated that cleaning hulls to prevent biofouling could reduce global marine fuel consumption by 10%, so perhaps this commercial benefit may win over those reluctant to spend heavily on prevention measures. But just as fishing vessels are still getting away with immense amounts of by-kill, merchant shipping in many areas of the world appears to be a law unto self.

Preserving regional marine biota is just as critical as land-based environmental protection. Allowing species to proliferate outside their normal range can only lead to deleterious changes - and when combined with our warming, increasingly acidic oceans, this does not bode well for all life on Earth, especially a hungry Homo sapiens. Just because we humans spend most of our time on land, we cannot afford to ignore the far larger ecosystems of the seas.

Our feline friends - not so miaowvellous after all?

I've published a few posts concerning citizen science, from the active participation in conservation-orientated projects here in New Zealand to the more passive involvement in distributed computing projects that I briefly mentioned back in 2012.

A type of public involvement in scientific research half way between these examples has been developed to utilise the human ability to match up patterns, a skill which artificial intelligence is only just beginning to replicate. One early implementation of this was the Galaxy Zoo crowdsourced project, in which volunteers examining photographs taken by robotic, Earth-based telescopes to classify galaxies. Since 2009, the Zooniverse online portal has utilised more than one million volunteers to examine data on behalf of over fifty projects, many of which are within STEM disciplines.

Although initially often used for astronomy or astrophysics programmes, crowd sourcing platforms have latterly found an important role in conservation and biodiversity research. An example is the Smithsonian Institute-sponsored eMammal, which specialises in the examination of camera trap footage to identify the locations of animal species on a scale that could not obtained by other means.

In line with the outcome of the perhaps too ambitious Predator-free 2050 programme, one project that may require the assistance of the Zooniverse volunteers is analysis of feral cat DNA from New Zealand's Auckland Island. The DNA, derived partially from fecal matter (nice), is to discover what the cats on the island are eating. Although this research aims to discover the best way to remove invasive species from Auckland Island (cats are known to predate on native seabird species) there now appears to be another issue caused by cats living near coastlines.

Over the past fifteen years a body of evidence from around the world has shown that cats are directly responsible for the deaths of marine mammals. This might sound rather unlikely, but the microbial culprit, Toxoplasma gondii, is only found in the digestive system of cats. Both feral and domestic cats that catch and eat infected rodents or birds can acquire the parasite and pass it by their fecal matter into the wider environment via fresh water run-off or sewage outfalls. Eventually, it enters the marine food chain, reaching the apex in the former of cetaceans and pinnipeds among others.

Species such as sea otters, seals, and dolphins have been killed by toxoplasmosis, according to autopsies of specimens washed up on seashores as far apart as New Zealand and the USA. Increasing temperatures (thanks again, man-made climate change) and greater rainfall can spread toxoplasmosis even further. In addition to direct contamination from fecal matter, cat owners who flush cat litter down the toilet can also start the highly resilient microbes on a journey via sewer networks to the ocean. Among the New Zealand species proven to have been killed by infection are the critically endangered Maui dolphin and locally vulnerable Hector’s dolphin, so there is definitely a need for some prompt action.

It isn't just a case of the top marine predators eating infected fish or squid: sea mammals could swallow oocysts (basically, the protozoan equivalent of a fertilised egg) directly from water. Only now that Maui dolphins are falling victim to the parasite is the story of this deadly microbe becoming better known. Not incidentally, our species can also become ill with toxoplasmosis due to exposure to cat feces, with serious consequences for babies born to infected mothers and to people with compromised immune systems. In addition to the other potential dangers from the likes of Salmonella, Listeria and E. coli, the recent fad for 'raw' (i.e. unpasteurised) milk could lead to a far higher rate of toxoplasmosis in humans.

What can be done? Well, cat owners could stop flushing kitty litter down their toilets for a start. Is it a case that there are just too many cats in the world? Some recent reports claim that Homo sapiens and their domesticated species constitute 96% of the global mammal biomass. As for cat numbers, an estimate last year suggested that there are six hundred million pet cats and the same number of feral individuals worldwide.

Is this just too many? I admit that I'm fairly biased as it is: a few cat owners I know here in Auckland have pets that regularly kill skinks and it's only luck that these are invasive rainbow skinks rather than rare native species. When it comes to the likes of the last 55 Maui dolphins falling prey to a disease spread by an extremely common domesticated species, I'd rather be over-zealous than over-cautious in developing a solution. As far as I can see, the best control methods would be a vast reduction in cat numbers or the development of an innoculation for our feline friends that can kill the parasite. Somehow I doubt either course of action is likely, which means a far from purrfect method would be to educate cat owners as to how to minimise the spread of Toxoplasma gondii. So if you are a cat owner, or know of one, I guess this could be your time to shine...

Anti-avian ingenuity: the numerous ways to minimise airport bird strikes

The widespread installation of wind turbines over the past three decades has generated a new ecologically unfriendly phenomenon, namely wild birds being killed by turbine sails. Although it could cause maintenance issues - and of course it's not good news for the birds themselves, the increasing density of air travel means far higher numbers of bird strikes are likely to occur in the much smaller turbines of jet engines, predominantly around airports.

I've previously written about how urban environments appear to generate wildlife somewhat smarter than rural equivalents. In contrast, airports seem to be a very poor choice for birds to inhabit, suggesting that the loss of natural environments coupled with the relatively undeveloped land around airport perimeters is causing birds to congregate in such precarious places.

It's somewhat ironic that such an environmentally unfriendly technology as air travel is inadvertently providing habitats for wild birds, but as urban sprawl increases animals are forced to live wherever they can find, even areas as seemingly unsuitable as runway taxiways and safety areas. As aircraft increase in size and speed but decrease in engine noise, it may be that aviation technology is contributing to the problem. In addition, waterfowl are attracted by the fresh water storage ponds found near runways for use in firefighting or drainage. Therefore, despite the noise, pollution, changes to local weather patterns and the obstacles in the form of the aircraft themselves, airports worldwide have found themselves becoming home to or visited by flocks of numerous bird species.

With over forty bird strikes every day, the cost to the global airline industry surpasses US$1 billion per year. So what is being done to reduce or remove this threat? The range of options is both ingenious and proof that birds are a formidable opponent, so here is a brief summary of popular methods:

1. Removing food and water sources
2. Audio repellents
3. Chemical repellents
4. Fake fire and pyrotechnics
5. Baited traps
6. Real and fake predators
7. Removing and culling birds

1) Reducing bird foodstuffs involves a variety of techniques that aren't exactly the height of eco-friendliness. Any vegetation that might be a food source for local bird species, such as fruit- or seed-bearing trees and bushes may be removed. One step further is to replace any grass areas with a non-local variety that is less attractive to native birds.

A substantially less environmentally-friendly approach has been the regular use of insecticides to remove food sources for insectivorous birds and even distributing poison to remove potential raptor prey such as rabbits. Open water storage ponds within airports have been netted to prevent waterfowl from landing on them, but camouflage has also been developed specifically to minimise the attractiveness of large bodies of water.

2) Some airports such as Singapore's Changi play bird distress and/or raptor calls to scare birds away. A less subtle method has been the regular discharge of loud sounds generated by sonic cannon such as propane exploders. However, evidence suggests that birds soon become accustomed to these.

3) As an antithesis to the removal of food sources described above, adding chemical repellents to airport vegetation is now being used. Since 2010, New Zealand airports have been using a a locally-developed grass, which contains an endophyte fungus that reduces insect numbers and makes birds sick. This may prove to be easier to implement than natural chemical repellents imported from agribusiness, such as methyl anthranilate and anthraquinone, which require sophisticated, ongoing and locally-tailored programmes to maintain effectiveness.

4) Although it might sound high-tech, the use of wind-blown metallic streamers that simulate fire have been found to only fool birds for short periods. Likewise, the use of lasers, flare launchers and other live pyrotechnic devices serve to acclimatise local wildfowl to sudden noise and light. After all, the birds are already congregating around noisy aircraft for much of the day!

5) For airports frequented by raptors, live prey such as pigeons can serve as bait for sophisticated traps that notify staff once they have been triggered. The problem then is where to release the bird of prey so that it doesn't return to the original area.

6) The opposite of the previous method is to swamp the locality with trained predators, from dogs to raptors, in order to convince birds to nest elsewhere. The predators don't have to always be live, either: in the USA, fake coyotes have been used in wetlands to keep birds away from flight paths.

7) If all other methods fail, there are several time-consuming alternatives that could be used as a last resort. Firstly, birds can be caught and moved to regions far from airports. Naturally, this requires collaboration with wildlife experts and/or rangers. As a guaranteed solution, culling may also be allowed, although this is hardly going to endear most people to a sector that, essential though it is, has a rather poor environmental record.

One potential smart solution for civilian aviation has been developed for the Royal Netherlands Air Force, which involves constant radar monitoring of wildfowl so that pilots can adjust their take-off and landing flight paths. Apart from lack of the technology at airports, each airport would need long-term trials to determine the appropriate adjustments with regard to local bird populations and their behaviour.

From what I've learnt while researching this issue, there is probably no single solution suitable for all airports; a suite of methods is required, tailored for each one depending on the local landscape, climate and of course bird species - the latter being wily and unpredictable adversaries. Clearly, there's a long way to go if such drastic solutions as culling the birds themselves and poisoning the wider ecosystem are seen as valid options. It looks as if more research is required before the danger to both airliners and birds can be reduced, although I doubt if it could ever be completely eliminated; nature is just too unpredictable!

Buzzing away: are insects on the verge of global extinction?

It's odd how some of these posts get initiated. For this particular one, there were two driving factors. One was passing a new house on my way to work where apart from the concrete driveway, the front garden consisted solely of a large square of artificial grass; the owners are clearly not nature lovers! The second inspiration was listening to a BBC Radio comedy quiz show, in which the panel discussed the recent report on global insect decline without being able to explain why this is important, apart from a vague mention of pollination.

Insect biologists have long sung the praises of these unrewarded miniature heroes, from JBS Haldane's supposed adage about God being "inordinately fond of stars and beetles" to EO Wilson's 1987 speech that described them as "the little things that run the world." In terms of numbers of species and individuals, invertebrates, especially insects, are the great success story of macroscopic life on our planet. So if they are in serious decline, does that spell trouble for Homo sapiens?

The new research claims that one-third of all insect species are currently endangered, extrapolating to wholesale extinction for the class Insecta over the next century. Although the popular press has started using evocative phrases such as "insect genocide" and even "insectageddon", just how accurate are these dramatic claims?

The United Nation's Red List currently describes three hundred insect species as critically endangered and a further seven hundred as vulnerable, but this is a tiny proportion of the total of...well, at lot more, at any rate. One oft-quoted figure is around one million insect species, although entomologists have estimated anywhere from 750,000 up to 30 million, with many species still lacking formal scientific identification. The hyperbole could therefore easily sound like unnecessary scaremongering, until you consider the details.

The new report states that butterflies and caddis flies are suffering the greatest decline, while cockroaches - as anyone who has faced a household infestation of them will know, they are likely to remain around until the end of world - and flies are the least affected orders. So, to paraphrase Monty Python, what have the insects ever done for us?

Pollination is of course of key importance, to both horticulture and un-managed 'wild' environments. Insects are near the base of many food webs; if numbers were much reduced, never mind removed, the impact on the rest of the ecosystem would be catastrophic. With the human population set to top ten billion in thirty years' time, we require ever larger regions of productive land for agriculture. They may be small at an individual level, but arthropods in general total about seventeen times the mass of all us H. sapiens. Insects replenish the soil, as alongside bacteria they break down dead matter and fecal material. So important is this latter function that New Zealand has been trialling non-native dung beetles to aid cattle farmers.

One key way to save fresh water and lessen the generation of the potent greenhouse gas methane is to reduce meat consumption in favour of insect protein. If insects are no longer around, then that will be an additional challenge in reducing environmental degradation. This of course also ignores the fact that insects are already a component in the diet of many developing nations. Last year I wrote about how scientists have been creating advanced materials derived from animals. Again, we are shooting ourselves in the foot if we allow this ready-made molecular library to be destroyed.

What is responsible for this global decline? Perhaps unsurprisingly, it turns out to be the usual suspects. Agricultural chemicals including pesticides have been associated with honey-bee colony collapse disorder (not incidentally, some tests have found honey samples with neonicotinoids - the mostly widely-used insecticides - exceeding the recommended human dosage) so clearly the same culprit is affecting other insects. Fresh waterways, home to many aquatic insect species, are frequently as polluted as the soil, either due to agricultural run-off or industrial contaminants. Wild landscapes are being converted with great haste into farm land and urban sprawl, with an obviously much-reduced biota.

Climate change is playing its part, with soil acidity increasing just as it is in the oceans. Even areas as remote as central Australia have seen marked decreases in insects as higher temperatures and lower rainfall outpaces the ability to adapt to the new conditions. I've often mentioned the role of invasive species in the decimation of indigenous vertebrates, but insects are equally prone to suffer from the arrival of newcomers. Although New Zealand has very strict biosecurity protocols, the likes of Queensland fruit flies and brown marmorated stink bugs are still occasionally found in or around ports of entry.

Many nations have no such procedures in place, resulting in local species being out-competed or killed by introduced species or pathogens to which they have no resistance. Until fairly recently, even New Zealand had a lax attitude to the issue, resulting in the decline of native species such as carabid beetles. When I conducted a brief survey of my garden in 2017 I found that one-third of the insect species were non-native, most of these being accidental imports since the arrival of European settlers.

If insects are so vital to our survival, why has there been so little interest in their well-being? There are some fairly obvious suggestions here. Firstly, at least in Western cultures, insects have been deemed dirty, ugly things that can be killed without a second thought. Wasps, ants and cockroaches in particular are seen in this light of being unwelcome pests, with typical insect-related phrases including "creepy crawlies" and "don't let the bed bugs bite".

It's fairly well-known that malaria-carrying mosquitoes are the most dangerous animals for us humans in terms of fatalities. The widespread outbreaks of the Zika virus haven't done them any favours either. As Brian Cox's television series Wonders of Life showed, their small size has given them veritable super powers compared to us lumbering mammals, from climbing up sheer surfaces (as a praying mantis was doing a few nights' ago on my window) to having amazing strength-to-weight ratios. All in all, insects are a bit too alien for their own good!

Clearly, scale prejudice is also a key factor. On a recent trip to Auckland Central Library I only found one book on insects versus dozens on birds. Photographic technology has been a double-edged sword when it comes to giving us a clearer picture of insects: close-ups are often greeted with revulsion, yet until Sir David Attenborough's 2005 BBC series Life in the Undergrowth, there was little attempt to film their behaviour with the same level of detail as say, the lions and antelopes of the Serengeti. It should also be mentioned that when Rachel Carson's ground-breaking book about the dangers of pesticides, Silent Spring, was published in 1962, the resulting environmentalism was largely in support of birds rather than insects.

Among all this doom and gloom, are there any ways to prevent it? One thing is for certain, and that is that it won't be easy. The agricultural sector would have to make drastic changes for a start, becoming much smarter in the use of chemicals and be held responsible for the local environment, including waterways. Vertical farming and other novel techniques could reduce the need for new agricultural land and water usage, but developing nations would be hard-pressed to fund these themselves.

Before any major undertaking, there's going to have to be either a fundamental crisis, such as food shortages, in a rich nation or a massive public relations exercise to convince people to consider insects in the same light as giant pandas or dolphins. This is not going to be easy, but as David Attenborough put it: "These small creatures are within a few inches of our feet, wherever we go on land - but often, they're disregarded. We would do very well to remember them."

Setting low standards: bovine TB, badger culls and political pressure on science

If there's a single type of news story that's almost guaranteed to generate widespread sympathy across the British Isles it is one concerning the mistreatment of animals. Over the past five years, badger culls aimed at preventing the spread of bovine tuberculosis have generated much public debate, with opinions varying from those who think badgers are completely innocent victims to some who want to see the species eradicated anywhere domestic cattle are kept. Since the number of farmed cattle in the British Isles is close to ten million, this presumably means the no-badger zone is rather on the large size!

When debates concerning agriculture start to get overheated it usually reduces to a battleground between farmers and so-called townies, with mudslinging and emotive slogans taking precedence over the facts. In this particular case the badgers have an unusual ally in the form of rock musician and amateur astronomer Brian May, who has received much of the criticism usually reserved for tree huggers, animal rights' campaigners and environmentalist types in general.

As I've mentioned before, a species often receives support based more on its cuteness factor than anything else (I consider the irascible and curmudgeonly Mr Badger in Wind in the Willows as a fairly accurate representation of the true critter) so the farming community has seen fit to complain that ignorant, urban-based activists are unaware of the challenges Mother Nature throws at the agricultural sector.

Such stereotyping and reductionism does nothing to alleviate the issue, which other nations face in similar circumstances. New Zealand, for example, has a rapidly escalating battle over the use of 1080 to poison introduced predators. Even though many environmental organisations such as Forest and Bird proclaim it the most effective method the debate is far from settled, with the anti-1080 movement using emotive pleas in their campaign that at times combines hysteria and aggression in equal measure.

The UK's Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (Defra) has funded an independent scientific review from Oxford University as to the efficacy of the cull, resulting in popular press reports that the evidence does not support it. Indeed, the high ratio of dead badgers in return for a 'modest' reduction in the disease has been given as a key reason to stop the culls. This might appear to be a nod towards animal welfare, until you read that other issues include their cost and complexity and a desire for the Government to gain in the opinion polls. A key scientific argument against the effectiveness of the culls come from rural vets, who support data suggesting even at maximum success, the reduction in new cases of cattle TB would only be 12-16% - in exchange for a culling of over 70% of local badger populations.

So what does this example say about humanity's attitude towards the environment and the use of science to reinforce that attitude? In terms of numbers of individuals, humans and our domesticated species (both livestock and household pets) vastly outnumber the inhabitants of the wilderness. The once diverse ecosystem has been vastly reduced, predominantly in the temperate regions suitable for intensive farming. But in return for this largely irreversible loss we have gained all-year round access to an incredible variety of inexpensive foodstuffs; clearly, our gastronomic gains take precedence over the wider ecosystem.

In the case of wild badgers as disease vectors, it isn't just the livelihood of individual farmers that are at stake. The European Union's threat to impose trade sanctions on the UK, such as a ban on the export of live cattle, must be considered as a potential loss at the national level. Little wonder then that the British Government implemented the cull after what has been termed 'a randomised trial period' or more impressively, 'over fifteen years of intensive research.' Even so, was the result of all this enough to justify the finality of the chosen method - or was the scientific data manipulated in the name of political expediency?

One telling example of how the culling might have been ordered due to political pressure rather than any scientific smarts was the use of evidence from other nations that are successfully controlling bovine TB. Australia and New Zealand have been held up as examples of how control of the disease vectors can vastly reduce or indeed remove the problem altogether. Except of course that those two nations don't have any badgers; it is the possum, a semi-arboreal marsupial, that is responsible for the spread of tuberculosis there. It seems to me that two creatures from such vastly different lineages should never have been seen as workable comparisons; the natural world just doesn't fall into the neat categories we would like it to. As a matter of fact, the UK Government has partly blamed the lack of success on the badgers themselves for failing to follow predicted behaviour. In 2013 the then Environment Secretary Owen Paterson stated that the animals had cheated by 'moving the goal posts'!

The Oxford University research reports that far more cases of bovine TB result from transmission between cattle rather than directly from badgers, explaining that farmers are not following Defra guidelines to minimise the spread. Even Defra itself states that there has been not nearly enough implementation of badger-proof feed storage and fencing, while its chief scientific adviser, Ian Boyd, has been quoted as admitting that badgers may only be responsible for as little as 6% of bovine TB! This incidentally comes from the man who in 2013 wanted complete control over what scientific results were reported to Government ministers, presumably so as to maintain a clear-cut, pro-STEM political lobby. Hmm, methinks I smell something fishy...

What can we conclude from these shenanigans? If scientific research doesn't provide reliable support for a method, shouldn't the mistake be admitted and a new approach implemented? Science is the sole invention of humanity with built-in error correction but when it gets embroiled in politics, unabashed use of political tools such as spin can prove fatal. In this particular case, the fatalities in the short term were the badgers. In the long run, an unbalanced ecosystem would have resulted. And we all know which species likes to think of itself as the pinnacle of creation. There's enough denial of scientific results as it is, without distortion for the sake of political convenience. Let's hope Defra has the courage to own up and try other tactics against the wily badger.

Sonic booms and algal blooms: a smart approach to detoxifying waterways

A recent report here in New Zealand has raised some interesting issues around data interpretation and the need for independent analysis to minimise bias. The study has examined the state of our fresh water environment over the past decade, leading to the conclusion that our lakes and rivers are improving in water quality.

However, some of the data fails to support this: populations of freshwater macro invertebrates remain low, following a steady decline over many decades. Therefore while the overall tone of the report is one of optimism, some researchers have claimed that the data has been deliberately cherry-picked in order to present as positive a result as possible.

Of course, there are countless examples of interested parties skewing scientific data for their own ends, with government organisations and private corporations among the most common culprits. In this case, the recorded drop in nitrate levels has been promoted at the expense of the continued low population of small-scale fauna. You might well ask what use these worms, snails and insects are, but even a basic understanding of food webs shows that numerous native bird and freshwater fish species rely on these invertebrates for food. As I've mentioned so often the apparently insignificant may play a fundamental role in sustaining human agriculture (yes, some other species practice farming too!)

So what is it that is preventing the invertebrates' recovery? The answer seems to be an increase in photosynthetic cyanobacteria, or as is more commonly - and incorrectly known - blue-green algae. If it is identified at all, it's as a health food supplement called spirulina, available in smoothies and tablet form. However, most cyanobacteria species are not nearly as useful - or pleasant. To start with, their presence in water lowers the oxygen content, so thanks to fertiliser runoff - nitrogen and phosphorus in particular - they bloom exponentially wherever intensive farming occurs close to fresh water courses. Another agriculture-related issue is due to clearing the land for grazing: without trees to provide shade, rivers and streams grow warmer, encouraging algal growth. Therefore as global temperatures rise, climate change is having yet another negative effect on the environment.

Most species of cyanobacteria contain toxins that can severely affect animals much larger than fresh water snails. Dogs have been reported as dying in as little as a quarter of an hour from eating it, with New Zealand alone losing over one hundred and fifty pet canines in the past fifteen years; it's difficult to prevent consumption, since dogs seem to love the smell! Kiwis are no stranger to the phylum for other reasons, as over one hundred New Zealand rivers and lakes have been closed to swimmers since 2011 due to cyanobacterial contamination.

Exposure to contaminated water or eating fish from such an environment is enough to cause external irritation to humans and may even damage our internal organs and nervous system. Drinking water containing blue-green algae is even worse; considering their comparable size to some dogs, it is supposed that exposure could prove fatal to young children. Research conducted over the past few years also suggests that high-level contamination can lead to Lou Gehrig's disease, A.K.A. amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, the same condition that Stephen Hawking suffered from.

What research you might ask is being done to discover a solution to this unpleasant organism? Chemicals additives including copper sulphate and calcium hypochlorite have been tried, but many are highly expensive while the toxicity of others is such that fish and crustacean populations also suffer, so this is hardly a suitable answer.

A more elegant solution has been under trial for the past two years, namely the use of ultrasound to sink the blue-green algae too deep to effectively photosynthesise, thus slowly killing it. A joint programme between New Zealand and the Netherlands uses a high-tech approach to identifying and destroying ninety per cent of each bloom. Whereas previous ultrasonic methods tended to be too powerful, thereby releasing algal toxins into the water, the new technique directly targets the individual algal species. Six tests per hour are used to assess water quality and detect the species to be eradicated. Once identified, the sonic blasts are calibrated for the target species and water condition, leading to a slower death for the blue-green algae that avoids cell wall rupture and so prevents the toxins from escaping.

Back to the earlier comment as to why the report's conclusions appear to have placed a positive spin that is unwarranted, the current and previous New Zealand Governments have announced initiatives to clean up our environment and so live up to the tourist slogan of '100% Pure'. The latest scheme requires making ninety percent of the nation's fresh water environments swimmable by 2040, which seems to be something of a tall order without radical changes to agriculture and the heavily polluting dairy sector in particular. Therefore the use of finely target sonic blasting couldn't come a moment too soon.

Our greed and short-sightedness has allowed cyanobacteria to greatly increase at the expense of the freshwater ecosystem, not to mention domesticated animals. Now advanced but small-scale technology has been developed to reduce it to non-toxic levels, but is yet to be implemented beyond the trial stage. Hopefully this eradication method will become widespread in the near future, a small victory in our enormous fight to right the wrongs of over-exploitation of the environment. But as with DDT, CFCs and numerous others, it does make me wonder how many more man-made time bombs could be ticking out there...

Biophilic cities: why green is the new black

I've previously discussed the notion that children who spend more time outside in natural surroundings are more likely to have improved mental and physical health compared to their indoors, gadget-centred peers, but does the same hold true for adults as well? After all, there have been many claims that the likes of the fractal geometry of natural objects, the sensual stimulation, the random behaviour of animals, even feeling breezes or better air quality can have a positive or 'wellness' (horrific term though it is) effect.

It is pretty much a given that the larger the percentage of nature existing within conurbations, the greater the improvement to the local environment. This begins at the practical level, with vegetation mitigating extremes of heat while its roots helps reduce flooding. In addition, fauna and flora gain more room to live in, with a greater number of species able to survive than just the usual urban adaptees such as rats and pigeons. What about the less tangible benefits to humans, culminating in a better quality of life? Science isn't wishful thinking, so what about the evidence for more nature-filled urban environments improving life for all its citizens, not just children?

Studies suggest that having window views of trees can increase concentration and wellbeing in the workplace, while for hospital patients there is a clear correlation between types of view and both the length of recovery periods and painkiller usage. Therefore it seems that even the appearance of close-at-hand nature can have an effect, without the necessity of immersion. Having said that, there are clear advantages to having a public green space, since it allows a wide range of activities such as flying kites, playing ball games, jogging and boot camps, or just having a picnic.

Our largely sedentary, over-caloried lives necessitate as much physical activity as we can get, but there is apparently something greater than just physical exercise behind nature as a promoter of wellbeing. Investigation appears to show that spaces with trees and the hint of wilderness are far more beneficial than the unnatural and restricted geometries of manicured lawns and neatly maintained flower beds. It seems that we are still very much beholden to the call of the wild. If this is a fundamental component of our highly civilised lives, are urban planners aware of this and do they incorporate such elements into our artificial environments?

The concept of integrating nature into our towns and cities certainly isn't a new one. As a child, I occasionally visited Letchworth Garden City, a town just north of London. As the name suggests, it was an early form of 'Green Belt' planning, created at the start of the Twentieth century and divided into sectors for residential, industrial and agricultural usage. In its first half century it tried to live up to its intention to be self-sufficient in food, water and power generation, but this later proved impractical. I don't recall it being anything special, but then its heyday as a mecca for the health conscious (at a time when the likes of exercise and vegetarianism were associated with far left-wing politics) has long since passed. As to whether the inhabitants have ever been mentally - or even physically - advantaged compared to the older conurbations elsewhere in the UK, I cannot find any evidence.

Across the Atlantic, the great American architect Frank Lloyd-Wright conceived of something similar but on a far larger scale. His Broadacre City concept was first published in 1932, with the key idea that every family would live on an acre-sized plot. However, Lloyd-Wright's concept - apart from being economically prohibitive - relied on private cars (later updated to aerator, a form of personal helicopter) for most transportation; sidewalks were largely absent from his drawings and models. Incidentally, some US cities today have partially adopted the sidewalk-free model but without Lloyd-Wright's green-oriented features. For example, there are suburbs in oil-centric Houston that are only reachable by car; you have to drive even to reach shopping malls you can see from your own home, with high pedestrian mortality rates proving the dangers of attempting to walk anywhere. Back to Lloyd-Wright: like many of his schemes, his own predilections and aesthetic sensibilities seem to have influenced his design rather more than any evidence-based insight into social engineering.

In recent years the term 'biophilic cities' has been used to describe conurbations attempting to increase their ratio of nature to artifice, often due to a combination of public campaigning and far-sighted local governments. Although these schemes cover much wider ground than just human wellbeing (prominent issues being reduction in power usage and waste, greater recycling and ecological diversity, etc), one of the side effects of the improvements is to quality of life. Thirteen cities joined the Biophilic Cities project in 2013, but others are just as committed in the long-term to offsetting the downsides of urban living. Here are three cities I have visited that are dedicated to improving their environment:

1. Singapore. Despite the abundance of tower blocks, especially in its southern half, this city that is also a nation has a half-century history of planting vegetation in order to live up to the motto ‘Singapore - City in a Garden’. Despite its large-scale adoption of high-tech, high-rise architecture, Singapore has preserved an equivalent area of green space and now ranks top of the Green View Index. Even the maximal artificiality of the main highways is tempered by continuous rows of tall, closedly-packed trees while building regulations dictate replacement of ground-level vegetation lost to development. A new 280-metre tall office, retail and residential building, due for completion in 2021, is set to incorporate overtly green elements such as a rainforest plaza. It could be argued that it's easy for Singapore to undertake such green initiatives considering that much of city didn't exist before the late Twentieth century and what did has been subject to wide-scale demolition. However, it seems that Singapore's Government has a long-term strategy to incorporate nature into the city, with the resulting improvements in the mental and physical wellbeing of its inhabitants.
2. Toronto. Although not as ecologically renowned as Vancouver, the local government and University of Toronto are engaged in a comprehensive series of plans to improve the quality of life for both humans and the rest of nature. From the green roof bylaw and eco-friendly building subsidies to Live Green Toronto Program, there is a set of strategies to aid the local environment and planet in general. It is already paying dividends in a large reduction of air pollution-related medical cases, while quality of life improvements are shown by the substantial bicycle-biased infrastructure and increase in safe swimming days. There's still plenty to do in order to achieve their long term goals, particularly around traffic-related issues, but the city and its inhabitants are clearly aiming high.
3. Wellington. New Zealand's capital has wooded parks and tree-filled valleys that the council promotes as part of the city's quality of life. The recreated wetlands at Waitangi Park and the Zealandia (formerly Karori) predator-proof wildlife sanctuary are key components in the integration of large-scale nature into the urban environment. Indeed, the latter is proving so successful that rare native birds such as the kaka are being increasingly found in neighbourhood gardens. Both the city and regional councils are committed to improving both the quality of life for citizens as well as for the environment in general, from storm water filtering in Waitangi Park to the wind turbines on the hilltops of what may be the world's windiest city.

These cities are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to conurbations around the world seeking to make amends for the appalling environmental and psychological consequences of cramming immense numbers of humans into a small region that cannot possibly supply all their needs. In some respects these biophilic cities appear too good to be true, as their schemes reduce pollution and greenhouse gas emissions, improve the local ecosystem, and at the same time appear to aid the physical and mental wellbeing of their inhabitants. Yet it shouldn't be surprising really; cities are a recent invention and before that a nomadic lifestyle embedded us in landscapes that were mostly devoid of human intervention. If we are to achieve any sort of comfortable equilibrium in these hectic times, then surely covering bare concrete with greenery is the key? You don't have to be a hippy tree hugger to appreciate what nature can bring to our lives.

Troublesome trawling: how New Zealand's fishing industry hid the truth about by-kill

I recently signed a petition to reduce by-kill in New Zealand waters by installing cameras on all commercial fishing vessels. Forest and Bird and World Wildlife Fund New Zealand are jointly campaigning for this monitoring, as only a small percentage of boats as yet have cameras. The previous New Zealand government agreed to the wider introduction, but Fisheries Minister Stuart Nash is considering reversing this due to industry pressure. Considering that the current administration is a coalition involving the Green Party, this seems highly ironic. Is this yet another nail in the coffin of New Zealand's tourist brand as 100% Pure?

Despite requests from the fishing industry not to release it to the public, on-board footage shows the extent of the by-kill. High numbers of rare and endangered species have been drowned in nets, from seabirds such as wandering albatross and yellow-eyed penguins/hoiho, to cetaceans (there are thought to be only fifty or so Māui's dolphin/popoto left), seals and sea lions.

Many of the cameras already installed on New Zealand boats failed in the first three months due to inadequate waterproofing; when allied with the fact that the supplier of the technology was an integrated part of the seafood industry, there's more than a whiff of something fishy going on. Although official statistics are often considered to be of dubious quality, Occam's razor can be used to decipher the by-kill figures as they have been reported in the past decade. Only three percent of New Zealand's set net boats are officially monitored, yet they account for the vast majority of the recorded by-kill. Given a choice between sheer coincidence (i.e. only monitored vessels are catching large numbers of non-target species) and severe under-reporting from unmonitored boats, it is obvious that the latter hypothesis follows the law of parsimony.

Sadly, widespread deception by New Zealand's fishing industry isn't something new. A third-party report involving undercover operatives stated that between 1950 and 2010 up to 2.7 times the official tonnage of fish was actually being caught, peaking in 1990. All this comes from an industry that is laden with checks and measures, not to mention sustainability certificates. Killing marine mammals within the country's Exclusive Economic Zone isn't just a minor inconvenience: since 1978 it's been illegal, with severe fines and even prison sentences for those convicted. Small wonder then that the majority of by-kill has been undeclared.

What is equally sad is the lack of interest from the New Zealand public in resolving the problems. After all, over ninety percent of the population are not vegetarian, so we must assume the vast majority enjoy seafood in their diet. The rapid replacement of over-fished sharks with Humboldt squid in the Sea of Cortez off Mexico's Pacific coast shows how the removal of a key species can severely affect food webs. If New Zealanders are to continue to enjoy eating fish with their chips, the sea needs better protection.

Over the past decade, other nations have shown commitment to reducing by-kill and lessening waste. In 2010 the British celebrity chef Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall launched the Fish Fight campaign to stop the discard of about half of the European Union's catch (due to it being either undersized or from non-quota species). Immense public support over the subsequent four years led to phased changes in the European Union's Common Fisheries Policy, proof that citizen action can make fundamental improvements.

Incidentally, it wasn't even a case of division along party lines; I was living in the UK at the time and wrote to my Labour Member of Parliament, who replied in a typically circumlocutory fashion that she would look into the matter! Even the then Conservative Prime Minister David Cameron agreed that EU policy needed a radical overhaul, a rare instance of cross-party sense and sensibility over pride and prejudice.

So what solutions are there to reducing by-kill? After all, installing cameras would only be the first step in assessing the scale of the problem, not removing it. Since Australia started monitoring its long-line tuna fleet, there has been a whopping seven hundred percent increase in the reporting of seabird and marine mammal by-kill. Some seaboard states in the USA have already banned set netting, which is still in widespread use in New Zealand. Several areas around the New Zealand coast such as between Kaipara Harbour and Mokau already prohibit this method of fishing - in this case to protect the few remaining Māui's dolphin - so there are precedents.

In addition, there are programmes currently testing new technology that may provide the answer. In 2002 the now charitable trust Southern Seabird Solutions was created to reduce by-kill of albatross and other endangered pelagic species.  This alliance of fishing industry leaders, recreational fishers, researchers and government analysts are trialling wondrously-named devices such as the Brady Bird Baffler, Hook Pod, tori lines and warp scarers.

Elsewhere, nocturnal experiments have been conducted using acoustic pingers to deter dolphins, although the results to date aren't especially promising. Equally dubious is the amended trawl net design for squid fishing vessels that incorporates the Sea Lion Exclusion Device (SLED); only today, it was reported that a juvenile sea lion had been found dead in such a net. Clearly, STEM ingenuity is being brought into play, but it will require further development and widespread introduction of the best solutions without industry interference in order to minimalise by-kill.

There are also some simple changes of practice that don't require equipment, only for the boat crews to be more aware of wildlife and act accordingly. Such procedures include moving away from areas with marine mammals present, not dumping offal, recovering lost gear, and changing the operating depth and retrieval speed of nets.

As usual, the financial considerations have taken precedence over the ecological ones. New Zealand has a comparatively small economy and as seafood is the nation's fifth largest export earner - over one billion dollars annually - it is hardly surprising that successive governments have tended to side with industry rather than environmentalists. However, could it be that there is now enough apprehension about the general state of the oceans to overhaul the sector's laissez faire practice? After all, in 2007 a fishing ban in New Zealand waters was placed on orange roughy, whose rapid decline caused huge concern.

There are of course plenty of other environmental issues affecting marine life: plastic pollution (including microbeads); increasing temperature and acidity, the latter especially drastic for shellfish; offshore algal blooms due to agricultural nutrient run-off; and numerous problems created by the oil and gas industry, from spillages to the far less reported exploratory air guns that impact cetacean behaviour.

The longer I've been writing this blog the more I'm convinced that science cannot be considered independent of the wider society in which it exists. Social, political and religious pressures and viewpoints can all adversely affect both what research is funded, what the time constraints are and how the results are presented or even skewed in favour of a particular outcome.

In the case outlined above, government ministries hid evidence to protect short-term industry profits at the expense of long-term environmental degradation - and of course the increase in public spending the latter will require for mitigation. New Zealand's precious dairy sector is already taking a pounding for the problems it has knowingly generated, so no doubt the fishing industry is keen to avoid a similar fate.

By allowing such sectors to regulate and police themselves and thus avoid public transparency, the entire nation suffers in the long run. We don't know what the decline or disappearance of populations of for example wandering albatross and Māui's dolphins might have on the (dis)appearance of snapper or blue cod at the dinner table, but as the alarming loss of Mediterranean and Californian anchovies and sardines suggests, negative cascades in the food chain can occur with extreme rapidity. Natural selection is a wonderful method of evolution but we are pushing it to the limit if we expect it to cope with the radical changes we are making to the environment at such a high speed. By-kill is something we can reduce, but only if industry and governments give science and the public a 'fair go'. Now isn't that something New Zealanders are supposed to be good at?

Amphibian Armageddon and killed-off kauri: the worldwide battle against fighting fungi

I recently wanted to visit the Ark in the Park, an open sanctuary in the Waitakere Ranges west of Auckland that uses constant predator control to protect native plants and animals. However, I was stopped by a sign stating that Te Kawerau a Maki, the Maori of the district, have placed a rāhiu or prohibition on entering the forest. Although not legally binding, the rāhui is intended to stop people walking through the area and spreading infection, serving in place of any notice by the New Zealand Government or Auckland City Council, since the latter two bodies have failed to take action. Perhaps this inactivity is because the infection does not directly affect humans or farming. Instead a fungus-like pathogen is killing the native kauri Agathis australis, one the largest tree species on Earth.

Known to live for over a thousand years and grow to over fifty metres tall, the largest kauri are seen by Maori as the lords of New Zealand's northern forests. Yet since 2009 the microscopic water mould Phytophthora agathidicida has been causing kauri dieback at an ever-increasing rate. Surveys in the Waitakeres show that most of the infected areas are within ten metres of walking paths and therefore the mould is being spread by visitors to the lowland forests who fail to thoroughly clean their shoes with the supplied disinfectant spray. In a truly David versus Goliath battle between the miniscule mould and giant trees, introduced species such as possums and pigs are aiding the former by accidentally spreading the minute spores.

Auckland Council reported last winter that the amount of affected kauri has reached 19 percent, meaning a doubling in scale in only five years. Since there is no cure for infected kauri, some scientists are now predicting the extinction of this magnificent tree in the near future. The combination of the pathogen's microscopic size with its rain-based activation after dormancy means there are currently no methods that can prevent the infection from spreading. In a way, the rāhui may just slow down the inevitable. Considering the immense kauri are home to a unique ecosystem of epiphytes, orchids and associated symbiotic organisms, the future flora and fauna of kauri-free forests may well be markedly different from the Waitakeres as they are today.

I've previously discussed the ubiquity of the unsung fungi and how prominent they are even within totally man-made environments. It seems surprising that New Zealand's authorities, so keen to preserve native birds and reptiles, are failing to take any action to at least buy time for the kauri; perhaps they have already deemed extinction as unavoidable and not worth spending public funds on.

The kauri are far from being the only organisms currently threatened by fungi or their kin. Over the past decade more than thirty snake species in the eastern and mid-western United States have started succumbing to what has been termed Snake Fungal Disease. The culprit is thought to be a soil-based fungus called Ophidiomyces ophiodiicola, with a similar organism now also thought to be affecting snakes in the United Kingdom and mainland Europe. Research suggests that up to ninety percent of infected snakes die from the condition, so clearly if humans and their vehicles play unwitting hosts to the microscopic fungal spores, the future for the world's snake population looks depressing. Although many people might not like snakes, ecosystems without them may see an explosion in the numbers of their prey animals, including rodents; to say the least, this would not bode well for crop farmers!

Perhaps the best-known of the global fungal-caused epidemics is the amphibian-decimating Chytridiomycosis, whose affects were initially recognised twenty years ago but may have started much earlier. As its spores can live in water, the responsible Batrachochytrium fungi are ideally situated to infect about one-third of all frog, toad, newt and salamander species. Again, it is thought that man has inadvertently caused the problem, as the African clawed frog Xenopus laevis is an immune carrier of the fungus and has been exported worldwide since the 1930's.

Another contributor may be climate change, as amphibian-rich forests experience temperature variations that are ideal for the chytrid fungi to proliferate in. As a final nail in the coffin - and as with bees and Colony Collapse Disorder - pesticides may play a key role in the epidemic. Agrochemicals are shown to lower the amphibian immune response and so increase their susceptibility to infection. However, the situation isn't completely hopeless: here in New Zealand, researchers at the University of Otago have used chloramphenicol, an antibiotic eye ointment, to cure infected Archey's frogs (Leiopelma archeyi). This species is already critically endangered even without the chytrid epidemic; hopefully, the cure will prove to be the saviour of other amphibian species too. This would be just as well, considering the dangerous side effects found in other treatments such as antifungal drugs and heat therapy (the latter involving temperature-controlled environments that are lethal to the pathogen).

During the past decade, over five million North American bats have been killed by white-nose syndrome, which is caused by the fungus Pseudogymnoascus destructans. Again, humans have inadvertently spread the pathogen, in this case from Eurasia, where the bat species are immune to it, to North America, where they are most definitely susceptible. The bats are only affected during hibernation, which makes treating them difficult, although brief exposure to ultraviolet light has been shown to kill the fungus. This may prove to be a cure to infected colonies, although how the UV could be administered without disturbing the cave-roosting populations will take some figuring out.

It appears then that a combination of manmade causes (international travel, climate change and chemical pollution) is creating a field day for various tiny fungi or fungus-like organisms, at the expense of numerous species of fauna and flora. The culprits are so small and pervasive that there is a little hope of preventing their spread. Therefore if conventional cures cannot be found, the only hope for the likes of the kauri might be the use of genetic engineering to either give the victim resistance or to kill off the pathogen. This science fiction-sounding technology wouldn't be cheap and its knock-on effects unknown – and potentially disastrous. The former technique would presumably not be any use to the existing populations, only to the germ line cells of the next generation. Whatever happens, our short-sighted approach to the environment is certainly starting to have major repercussions. A world without the magnificent kauri, not to mention many amphibian, reptile and mammal species, would be a much poorer one.

Counting keruru: can public surveys and competitions aid New Zealand conservation?

Whilst some other countries - the UK, for example - have dozens of general and specialised wildlife surveys undertaken by members of the public, New Zealand has comparatively few. Whilst this might seem odd, considering the Kiwi penchant for the great outdoors (not to mention the little matter of the endangered status of so many native species) it should be remembered that the nation has a rather small (human) population. In addition, New Zealand is no different from other developed countries, wherein environmentalists often appear at loggerheads with rural landowners, especially farmers.

Since agriculture forms a fundamental component of the New Zealand economy, any anti-farming sentiment can quickly escalate into unpleasantness, as even a cursory look at agriculture versus environmentalists news stories will confirm. Farmers are often reported as resenting what they deem as unrealistic or uninformed opinions by wildlife campaigners. But lest farmers consider this particular post being yet another piece of anti-farming propaganda, it should be noted that campaigns are usually driven by a perceived need for action in the face of government inactivity: after all, New Zealand is second only to Hawaii in the number of introduced species, many of which are in direct competition with, or predate upon, native ones.

Talking of competitions, this year's Bird of the Year contest has just been won by the cheeky, intelligent kea, the world's only alpine parrot. Run by Forest and Bird* and now in its thirteenth year, it aims to raise publicity for the plight of New Zealand's native birds and the wider environment they rely upon. With over 50,000 votes cast, this means approximately 1% of New Zealand citizens and residents entered the competition (assuming of course that non-Kiwis didn't participate).

The international level of awareness about the competition seems to be on the increase too, with the kea's victory even being reported on the website of the UK's The Guardian newspaper, albeit in an article written by a New Zealand-based journalist. The competition doesn't appear to offer anything to science, except a potential – if not unobvious - theory that the public's fondness for particular wildlife species is based upon their aesthetic qualities, with drab birds for example getting less attention than colourful ones. Then again, perhaps Forest and Bird are more interested in spreading their message rather than the results; as the old adage goes, there's no such thing as bad publicity. Indeed, the story of a Christchurch-based who tried to rig the vote in favour of the white-faced heron was reported by the BBC.

Another prominent example of the New Zealand's public involvement in environmental matters is the Annual Garden Bird survey, which began in 2007 and is run by the Government-owned Landcare Research. This more obvious example of citizen science states that the results are used to analyse population trends for both native and introduced bird species and so aid pest control programmes. However, it would be difficult to ascertain the validity of the observations, since less than 0.3% of the nation's gardens (or rather their owners) participate.

Whilst 5000 entries might be considerably more than could be achieved by other means, there are probably all sorts of details that are missed with this level of coverage. I have participated for three years now and have found that my observations do not agree with the reported trends. For example, last year's results show that the silvereye, blackbird and song thrush have declined in my area, whereas I have not noticed any such a drop-off for these birds -  and it's not as if I particularly encourage the latter two (non-native) species.

A more specific example of bio-recording was last month's Great Kereru Count, which claims to be New Zealand's biggest citizen science project. Clearly, they don't consider the Bird of the Year competition as science! Various organisations run this survey, which gained around 7000 reports this year. There are also continuous monitoring schemes, such as for monarch butterflies (which is interesting, as this is a far-from-endangered, recently self-introduced creature) whilst NatureWatch NZ allows anyone to supply a record of a plant or animal species, or indeed to request identification of one. The latter might not sound particularly necessary, but judging by how little some New Zealanders seem to know about their own environment (for example I've met Kiwis who cannot identify such common organisms as a tree weta or cabbage trees) this resource is probably essential in understanding the spread of non-native species.

With native species protection in mind, there are other, more direct, citizen science projects in the country, with everything from the Great Kiwi Morning Tea fundraiser this month to allocation of funding for predator control tools and traps – including in urban gardens - via the independent trust Predator Free New Zealand.

For an even greater level of public involvement in science and technological research, in 2015 the New Zealand Government initiated the Participatory Science Platform to aid partnerships between professionals and community groups. Three pilot projects are currently under way, with Dr Victoria Metcalf as the National Coordinator (or Queen of Curiosity as she has been nicknamed.) These projects are exciting because they involve the public from project development through to conclusion, rather than just using non-scientists as data gatherers. In addition, the ability to gain first-hand experience on real-world undertakings may even encourage children from lower decile areas to consider STEM careers. That's no bad thing.

Back to surveys. Although science communication (sci-comm) is in vogue, my own feeling is that participation is key to promoting science – the methods as well as the facts – to the wider public. Yes, some science is very difficult to understand, but there's plenty that is also easy to grasp. This includes the dangers facing species pushed to the brink of extinction by habitat loss, pollution, and introduced organisms. By actively involving entire communities, surveys and competitions can also play a part in preserving species whilst allowing a sustainable level of development.

Of course this requires a government with vision, but with New Zealand's Green Party gaining positions in the Jacinda Ardern-led coalition, perhaps the newly-formed New Zealand Government will pick up the slack after years of prevarication and inactivity. That way our grandchildren will be able to experience the cheeky kea and company for real, rather than just via old recordings. How can that fail to make sense? After all, at the lower end of the bio-recording spectrum, all it requires is for someone to make a few taps on their keyboard or smartphone. It's certainly not rocket science!

*Forest and Bird have actively lobbied the New Zealand Government in numerous cases to prevent environmental degradation via land swaps, mining and hydro-electric schemes. They have produced a volume on environmental law and a mobile app called the Best Fish Guide. All in all, they perform an immensely valuable contribution to ensure that development in New Zealand is sustainable and that the public are made aware of schemes that might impact the wider environment.

Water, water, everywhere: the hidden holism of H2O

Like other northern regions of New Zealand, the summer of 2017 saw Auckland residents facing City Council requests to conserve water, as well as a hosepipe ban in effect during March and April. It therefore seems ironic that the water shortage occurred at the same time as flooding in the west of the city; thanks to a tropical downpour - one of several so far this year - the equivalent of an entire month's rain fell over a day or two. Clearly, water shortages are going to become an ever-increasing issue, even in nations with well-developed infrastructure.

The British historian of science James Burke, writer-presenter of The Day the Universe Changed, also made three television series called Connections 1, 2 and 3 (in 1978, 1994 and 1997 respectively) which examined the historical threads linking scientific and technological advances with changes in other areas of society. Therefore I'd like to take a similarly holistic approach to the wonderful world of water consumption and see how it ties into the world in general.

Although the statistics vary - it's difficult to assess with any great precision - there are published figures suggesting that the populace of richer nations use up to 5000 litres of water each per day, mostly hidden in food production. Many websites now supply details of the amount of water used to grown certain crops and foodstuffs, so you can easily raise your guilt level simply by comparing your diet to the water involved in its generation; and that's without considering the carbon mileage or packaging waste, either!

I've previously discussed the high environmental cost of cattle farming, with both dairy and beef herds being prominent culprits in water pollution as well as consumption. However, there are plenty of less-obvious foodstuffs proven to be notorious water consumers, for example avocado and almonds. Although the latter might be deemed a luxury food, much of the global supply is now used to make almond milk; with consumption increasing up to 40% year-on-year, this is one foodstuff much in demand.

Even though it is claimed to require much less water than the equivalent volume of dairy produce, almond farming is still relevant due to the massive increase in bulk production, especially in California (home to 80% of the global almond harvest). The reasons for the popularity of almond milk are probably two-fold: firstly, the public is getting more health-conscious; and secondly, a reduction or abstention in dairy produce is presumed to lessen food allergies/intolerance. These obviously link to prominent concerns in the West, in the form of high-calorie/low-exercise diets leading to mass obesity and over-use of cleaning chemicals in the home, preventing children from developing good anti-microbial resistance. Clearly, there is a complex web when it comes to water and the human race.

Even for regions chronically short of water such as California, more than three-quarters of fresh water usage is by agriculture. In order to conserve resources, is it likely that we may soon face greater taxes on commercially-grown water-hogging produce and bans on the home-growth of crops that have a low nutrition to water consumption ratio? I've recently read several books discussing probable issues over the next half century with the humble lettuce appearing as a good example of the latter.

Talking of which, the wet and windy conditions in New Zealand of the past year - blamed at least partially on La Niña - have led to record prices for common vegetables: NZ$9 for a lettuce and NZ$10 for a cauliflower, even in major supermarket chains. British supermarkets were forced to ration some fruit and vegetables back in February, due to their Mediterranean growers suffering from storms and floods. This suggests that even for regions with sophisticated agricultural practices there is a fine line between too much and too little fresh water. Isn't it about time that the main food producers developed a more robust not to mention future-proof infrastructure, considering the increased impact that climate change is likely to have?

The world is also paying a heavy price for bottled water, a commercial enterprise that largely breaks all boundaries of common sense. In the USA alone it costs several thousand times the equivalent volume of tap water and there are some reports that there may be chemical leaching from reusing plastic bottles. As you might expect, there is also an extremely high environmental cost. This includes the fossil fuels used by bottling plants and transportation, the lowering of the water table (whose level is so critical in areas utilising less sophisticated farming technologies) and the impact of plastic waste: the USA only recycles about 23% of its plastic water bottles, resulting in 38 billion bottles dumped each year at a cost of around US$1 billion. All in all, bottled water for nations with highly developed infrastructure seems like an insane use of critical resources.

Although accelerated population growth has become a widespread fear, there are indicators that later this century the global figure may peak at around nine billion and then level off. Increasing urbanisation is seen a primary cause for this and not just in developing nations; Auckland for example (New Zealand's largest city by far) experienced 8% population growth in the seven years from 2006. A larger population obviously requires more food, but a more urban and therefore generally better educated, higher income populace tends to demand access to processed, non-local and above all water-intensive foods. China is the touchstone here, having seen a massive increase in fish and meat consumption over the past half century; the latter has risen from 8 million tons per year in 1978 to over 70 million tons in recent years.

It has been claimed that 70% of industrial waste generated in developing nations is dumped into water courses, meaning that there will be a massive cost for environmental clean-up before local sources can be fully utilised. The mass outbreak of E-coli in Hawke's Bay, New Zealand, in February this year shows that even developed nations are having difficulty maintaining water quality, whilst there has been a shocking admittance of lead contamination above safe levels in 41 American states over the past three years. Does this mean bottled water - heretofore the lifeline of Western tourists abroad - is becoming a necessity in the West after all?

Some might argue that thanks to global warming there will be more water available due to the melting of polar caps and glaciers, which after all contain almost two-thirds of the world's fresh water resources. However, these sources are mostly located far from high-density populations and upon marine contamination they require energy-demanding desalination technology. It's small comfort that current estimates suggest that by 2025 about 14% of the global population will rely on desalination plants for their fresh water needs.

In the West we tend to take clean, safe water completely for granted but thanks to the demands of living in a society run on rampant consumerism - coupled with poor science education - everyday decisions are being made that affect the environment, waste critical resources and damage our own health. Pundits are predicting that water will be the new oil: liquid gold, a precious commodity to be fought over, if necessary. Surely this is one resource that all of us can do something to support, whether it is cutting down on water-intensive foodstuffs, using tap rather than bottled water, or simply turning off a tap sooner than usual!

Dung roaming: a controversial approach to cleaning up New Zealand's cattle waste

Although I've already discussed the dangers of using biological control in various countries, a couple of recent events suggested I should write an update that concentrates on one particular example in New Zealand. I've mentioned elsewhere that my local reserve in Auckland is home to a large number of non-native species, from Australian eucalyptus trees and the associated (but accidentally imported) Emperor Gum moth, to California quail and Mexican gambusia fish. But having seen rainbow skink in my local environs, including a neighbour's garden, I was surprised to learn last week they are not native but yet another unplanned Australian import. Sure enough, the 1947 classic Powell's Native Animals of New Zealand makes no mention of the species in the page on the indigenous common skink and copper skink.

Earlier this year I read Quinn Berentson's superb Moa: the life and death of New Zealand's legendary bird, which lists fifty-eight avian species as having become extinct since humans first arrived in the country less than a thousand years ago. And of course this decimation of native fauna and flora may not yet have ended, with NIWA for example fighting a rear guard action against unwanted marine incomers such as polychaete worms arriving on ship's hulls and in discharged ballast water. Various sources suggest that well over one hundred introduced species of land animals, birds and fish are now widespread in New Zealand: what chance does the native ecosystem stand against this onslaught?

To add insult to injury, I recently read an OECD chart delineating business spend on research and development as a percentage of GDP, and was shocked to find that New Zealand was fourth from bottom of twenty-six nations, coming below western Europe, South Korea, Japan, Australia, Canada and the USA. Are our captains of industry really so short-sighted? As a country that depends extremely heavily on its dairy industry - an industry that is currently in dire straits - it seems sensible to invest a large amount of R&D in this sector. But alongside the eco-friendly solutions such as minimising methane emissions, there has been a new programme of biological control aimed at one particular side effect of dairy farming, namely the enormous amounts of cattle dung produced.

Across the Tasman, Australia has already been working on a similar scheme for the past half century, deliberately introducing numerous species of non-native dung beetles. New Zealand, home to over ten million cattle in a 3:2 dairy-to-meat ratio, obviously has issues with bovine manure management. Due to the lack of native ruminants the country's fifteen indigenous dung beetle species have evolved to mostly inhabit forests rather than grazing land.

There are various reasons why speeding up the rate of dung decomposition would improve farm land and the landscape in general, from preventing mineral imbalance in the soil and contamination of waterways to reduction in animal-infesting parasites such as nematode worms. But is it worth the risk to the greater environment, considering the dismal track record of biological control schemes around the world?

The new project is not the first time such insects have arrived in the country: in addition to three species accidentally imported from Australia and South Africa from the late Nineteenth Century onwards, the Mexican dung beetle (Copris incertus) was deliberately introduced into three areas in the 1950s but only thrived in the warm Northland climate. It is the scale of the new research that has set it apart: following caged field trials, the past two years has seen the widespread introduction of eleven non-native species across seven regions on both North and South Islands.

Bodies such as the Institute of Environmental Science and Research (ESR) have investigated the potential dangers to human health and the local ecology, even testing if possums, carriers of bovine tuberculosis, might see the exotic insects as a new food source. Even so, some professional scientists have deemed it a biosecurity disaster and one can see their point: using data from other countries' programmes is hardly a fool-proof comparison, considering the profoundly different indigenous ecosystems of Australia and New Zealand.

As a child I heard about the food chain or pyramid, but this is something of a misnomer. Just as natural selection works with bushes rather than linear progression, so there are food webs consisting of a complex series of trophic interactions. Although exotic dung beetles are unlikely to displace their native counterparts due to lack of shared environments, it is possible that other native species of grassland-living insects could suffer, such as humble earthworms. The problem is that without testing in various regions over long periods of time, it isn't viable to rule out such side consequences. Yet it isn't possible to undertake such tests without release into the wild: do we have something of a catch-22?

Having said that, there are no obvious signs that Australia's long-established dung beetle programme has had anything like the deleterious effects of its other biological control schemes, such as the cane toad fiasco. But then fifty years is a very short time in ecological timeframes and what to the casual glance of a farmer appears to be equilibrium could be apocalyptic at dung beetle scale. I wish the project good luck, but cannot help feeling that having received far more than its fair share of obnoxious aliens, New Zealand is the last place that needs yet more exotic species introduced onto its green and pleasant land.

Going, going, gone: how do you decide which endangered species are worth saving?

My elder daughter recently adopted a Sumatran tiger. Not literally of course, but an Auckland Zoo package bought as a birthday present, with the tiger chosen above the seven other species on offer because - at least according to my daughter's claim - it was the most endangered one. In fact, the estimate for the number of Sumatran tigers left in the wild varies between four hundred and seven hundred individuals, so the lack of accuracy is only countered by the fact that both extremes are so low. With countless other species similarly close to the edge, if not worse off, a key question has arisen in recent years: are some species more worthy of conserving than others?

Presumably the choice on offer in the zoo's Adopt an Animal programme is intended to increase awareness of the plight of these particular animals. But can there be many people at least in the developed world who are not aware of some of the ever-increasing roster of endangered species? Indeed, there are now widespread claims that we may be living through a mass extinction event, the sixth known. Interestingly, it's only been in the last few years that some sort of quantitative definition of a mass extinction has gained popularity over the earlier, somewhat vague ‘one hundred to a thousand times the background rate' designation, with a rapid (at least on a geological timescale) 75% loss of species deemed the minimum number. However, this figure appears somewhat arbitrary, yet is quoted in various general readership articles as the number of species currently headed for extinction! Evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins has much to say on the subject of fundamentally meaningless statistics: for example, how is 74% so much less worthy of the term ‘mass extinction' than a mere one per cent more? Granted, there may just be too many unknowns for a consensus in expert opinion, but deciding on a one per cent cut-off line for such an event is surely creating a label for its own sake, useful for lazy journalists but little else.

The International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) Red List makes for depressing reading, with around 7000 species listed between the three worst categories: critically endangered; extinct in the wild; and species that have recently become totally extinct. Even worse, it appears to be out of date, if the example of the Yangtze River dolphin is anything to go by. It appears on the first of these lists, as opposed to the third, where most experts agree it should now sit. The fact that no single organisation seems to have enough resources to compile definitive current data doesn't help. After all, if you cannot identify the species most in need, how do governments and agencies decide which ones to save (and, unfortunately, which to doom to near-future extinction)?

The environmental movement of the past half century has long capitalised on photogenic ‘poster' species such as whales, apes and the giant panda, which add a wow factor that has had the side-effect of concentrating much of the funding on them. This has regrettably deprived many less aesthetic species of publicity, and probably in the case of some species such as the Yangtze River dolphin, their existence.

There are strong arguments both for and against the continuation of this policy, although things have recently got slightly better as regards recognition for non-figurehead species. Late last year the BBC television series Dara O Briain's Science Club made a foray into this area with the question - covered at the programme's usual break-neck speed -  are pandas worth all the money spent on them? Palaeontologist Richard Fortey and zoologist Lucy Cooke presented arguments seemingly against the high level of resources accorded the giant panda. Indeed, the latter emphasised the decline of one third of amphibian species worldwide. The time has finally come to appreciate that non-cute species deserve much greater attention than hitherto gained. To this end, the decidedly unpleasing looks of the deep-sea blobfish have recently seen it voted World's Ugliest Animal in a concerted effort to improve awareness of all the species that are least likely to appear on any fundraising poster.

So considering how many species, including plants and fungi, are currently endangered, is it worth spending millions of dollars each year to preserve, say, giant pandas? After all, aren't the latter just a wee bit useless? With a diet that is 99% bamboo and a seeming lack of reproductive drive, couldn't they be viewed as an over-specialised, evolutionary dead end, doomed regardless of loss of habitat and poaching? However, it isn't as simple as that. The popular description isn't completely accurate, with panda libido in captivity seemingly less than in the wild, although admittedly females are apparently only able to conceive for a few days each year. Even so, is it worthwhile to spend millions on captive breeding programmes (involving artificial insemination) for these cute creatures when the money could be split amongst many other species?

Awww, cute...but is it worth it?

One of the key arguments in favour of figurehead species is that the publicity gained is then disseminated to other species in the same habitat, such as by keeping those environments as free of development as possible.  Preservation of entire ecosystems is a major element to the notion that for purely selfish reasons we should maintain as much biodiversity as possible. This is in order to preserve unique genomes that may one day prove useful in agriculture or as pharmaceuticals. After all, only about 5% of plant species have so far been studied for their medicinal properties, whilst the DNA of many species remains almost entirely unexamined. A good case can be seen with the Pacific yew, a conifer in severe decline that proved to be the source of an important chemotherapy drug. In a similar vein, loss of one species may cause the rise of another that is rather less neutral from a human viewpoint, whether it is an agricultural pest or a dangerous predator such as the aggressive Humboldt squid, which has largely superseded over-fished sharks around the Mexican Pacific coast.

So even without invoking a moral argument, there are plenty of good reasons why preserving as many types of organisms as possible may be important to our future.  Whether this can be achieved most efficiently via publicity-raising poster species is more difficult to ascertain. There are claims that we should support evolutionary-distinct species or those with a definitively viable breeding/cultivatable population, but this is hampered by the lack of detailed information mentioned above. For example, several population bottlenecks in the history of cheetahs have reduced their genetic diversity to such an extent that even a relatively comfortable population size - at least compared to some endangered species - is no guarantee of future salvation. In other words, the minimum viable population for a species is probably unique for each.

In addition, there aren't complete lists of members in each ecosystem for even relatively large creatures: it was only last month that the Olinguito, a Central American omnivorous mammal new to science, was formally described. With this lack of definitive information, it's little wonder there is a multitude of problems concerning even knowing where to begin conservation measures. Of course, spending funds on this sort of research, which has no immediate benefit to endangered species, would presumably take crucial funding away from vital preservation measures in the here and now. But since the research hasn't been done many factors remain little more than guestimates, thus creating a vicious circle as to which species require the most support.

This doesn't of course mean that dedicated ecologists are likely to be swayed from their labours of love by any amount of hard data. Whether the enormous efforts to save those species with miniscule populations is worthwhile in the long run remains to be seen. New Zealand's flightless parrot the kakapo, with less than one hundred breeding individuals left, is a prominent example. There are now so few that almost every bird has been named; but would it have been better to try saving multiple species with more likelihood of long-term survival? It's difficult to attempt objectivity when you are fighting for the survival of creatures that have been anthropomorphised even to the minimum level of naming them. Then again, it's often been the devotion of small groups of committed conservationists that pioneered the techniques now widespread, including the methods for publicising the plight of endangered species.

So it doesn't look like there are any easy answers in what has to be, if it is to succeed, a rapidly developing field. After all, it's only been a century since we stopped wiping out species for fun in the name of sport. Unlike the Higgs Bosun, some of the subjects involved in this area - the species themselves - aren't going to be hanging around for solutions at some indeterminate point in the future. As Gandhi put succinctly: "Earth provides enough to satisfy every man's needs, but not every man's greed." The problem is knowing where to begin on the mammoth task of fixing a planet-wide ecosystem. All I can say is good luck, because like it or not, we're all participants in this one!