Sodium fluoroacetate

Some people meditate to find their inner calm, some medicate. But my golden rule for maintaining equilibrium is “do not read the comments”.

This week I’ve had to break that rule, to conduct my research into the position of anti-1080 activists. Scholarly research into 1080 opposition is proving a challenge.  Scouring Google Scholar and Web of Science I find a wealth of peer-reviewed literature available that examines, in clinical detail, the effects of possums on forest canopies and bird populations, the effects of 1080 on waterways and native species, the tested results of 1080 exposure on possums, game, humans, birds and invertebrates, and the environmental consequences of doing nothing to reduce possum numbers.

But where is the evidence from the anti-1080 brigade? Talkback Radio, social media, newspaper articles. I’m finding it difficult to maintain (any illusion of) objectivity in my assignment, as I read about hoaxes, death threats and hostage taking, murdered pets and the threat to contaminate infant formula. On social media sites, articles about successful bird breeding seasons post-1080 drops provoke hysterical, aggressive comments from opponents, that descend quickly into personal attack. In contrast the responses from conservationists – scientists both amateur and academic – tend toward the measured and reasonable, and they consistently direct the opponents of 1080 to one thing: the peer-reviewed science that is so readily available. The opponents’ apparent resistance to accepting or even reading this literature is astonishing.

In between searching the literature, I’ve enjoyed reading the course material about writing position papers. I’ve found that working on the initial framework of narrowing down the issue to a number of key points and outlining the opposition argument fairly has helped me to keep my emotional reactions and my need to ‘be right’ in check. A bit. (I particularly enjoyed the tip about framing the opposing view in a straightforward way, and then pulling out the poetry for persuading people to the opposite.)  Finally this week, the research tips: reading selectively and skimming for the relevant points. I was very heartened to read this; the whole time I’ve been studying I’ve felt I was ‘cheating’ somehow by doing this. I’ve been thinking I’m rushing research and ought to be reading more comprehensively. But in the light of this advice I realise there’s a difference between skimming to cherry-pick facts, looking for evidence of your own preconceived opinion, versus skimming strictly for relevance. So now that I know I’ve been doing it right, I’ll have to find something else to feel guilty about. Murdering possums maybe.

The place where we live

Why does an Environmental Science student study History? Why, even, does an Environmental Science student study Environmental Science?

For me it started in childhood. Trees were magical, and animals seemed more interesting than people (still waiting to grow out of this). As time went by I became aware that some parts of the world were way more industrialised and artificial than where I lived, and I came to value the natural ‘scenery’ around me more and more. But more and more I saw the pollution and damage in my own back yard. It was hard to believe this was happening in such a young country, with such a unique and precious biota, when the lessons of the wider world’s treatment of its natural environment were already so clear.

So naturally I did science throughout my school years. Not! Science was so boring, I couldn’t stand it. Equations, dissections, Bunsen burners. My high school was staffed by teachers who, looking back, were probably wildly expert in their fields, but had no teaching skills at all. And sadly none of them bothered to explain to me that the things I was really interested in were, actually, best understood through science, and that my own curiosity about the natural world was the spirit of scientific enquiry. Mind you I wagged school so much who knows what they said.

By my 20s I was working as a screen printer, horrified at what my workmates thought it was okay to pour down the drains, or throw into landfill. Turps, ink waste, thinners, caustic soda. Where was it going? From drain to stream, and out to sea. Into the soil, and into the water table. Was I the only one worried about this? (Short answer: yes.)

I did what I could in my own workplace, but how could I make a significant difference? It was clear to me that there would be no traction if I was perceived as a hippie. So I decided to get qualified, as a Proper Scientist. Hard science: chemistry, physics, statistics. Measurable, quantifiable, testable facts. That way lies credibility.

As time goes by though, I find I’ve changed my mind. I believe my emotional, visceral reaction to environmental damage is more authentic and compelling than my scientific credentials. Because if scientists don’t care, what’s the point of science? And if scientists can’t communicate, what’s the point of them caring? (Hello, 119.155!)

Because I care, I volunteer at Zealandia Ecosanctuary, here in Wellington, feeding the kaka.

As for my History minor, history is the story of the environment. It’s the story of how people have used, valued and fought over land and natural resources. It’s the story of change, and of damage – environmental and cultural; the story of greed, power and control.  And it’s the story of Aotearoa New Zealand: migration, kaitiakitanga, colonisation, and conflict.

So when people ask me why I study these issues I wonder, why don’t you? Because this is our world - this is where we live.