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Of honeybees and polar bears: Saving beloved species isn't enough — but it's a good start

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Thursday, April 17, 2025

If you ask children or college students to draw pictures to illustrate climate change, chances are that polar bears will make an appearance. Since activists started fighting to protect the climate in the 1970s, certain animal species have become the poster children for various conservation movements. From images of polar bears drifting alone on melting sea ice to complex songs from whales taking over the radio airwaves to internet memes of sloths roaming their disappearing habitats, certain species rise to prominence in human perception, inspiring us to make changes and fight for their preservation.  Yet in the past 12 years, at least 467 species have gone extinct, with most of these creatures — including a type of rodent called the melomy and a Hawaiian tree snail called Achatinella apexfulva — quietly disappearing and utterly unknown to the vast majority of humans. In part as a result of watching species after species go extinct, climate change burnout, in which people are overwhelmed by the severity of the climate crisis, and climate doomerism, in which people see climate change as irreversible and destruction as inevitable, are both increasing. But in fact, history shows that humans do have the power to save animals on the brink of extinction. Such successes might be the most tangible representation of conservation that we have. Still, whether we rally behind a given animal species is largely based on whether we recognize parts of ourselves in them.  When we see "polar bears on melting glaciers, we have an empathetic response," said Susan Clayton, a conservation psychologist at the College of Wooster. “It’s one way to take this big, amorphous concept," meaning climate change, "and make it more understandable.” Whether we rally behind an animal is largely based on whether we recognize parts of ourselves in them. In conservation, the term "flagship species" is used to refer to animals that represent something bigger, like an entire ecosystem. For example, the polar bear represents the Arctic, sea turtles serve as ambassadors to the sea, the bald eagle is iconic to North America and the giant panda symbolizes conservation efforts in China.  Very often, these animals are larger mammals that live on land and share characteristics with humans. People are more likely to take action to protect a species if it is physically large and if they are flagship species. Singling in on particular species can also help make climate change seem more personal. Studies show, for example, that people are more likely to help a single person than they are to take action to support a statistically large but abstract number of victims.  “We are animals too, and as mammals with a certain biology, we are drawn to certain other species that have shared biological traits,” said Diogo Verissimo, a research fellow at the Environmental Change Institute. “It could also be, as is the case with the honeybee, that we seem to share their social structure in certain ways.” Want more health and science stories in your inbox? Subscribe to Salon's weekly newsletter Lab Notes. Honeybees — which are once again making headlines after commercial beekeepers reported record colony losses this year — are another species humans tend to rally behind for various reasons. For one thing, they are undeniably fuzzy and widely considered appealing. Bees have been anthropomorphized on screen, in films like “Bee Movie,” and on cereal boxes. As nearly everyone knows, honeybees also live in complex intelligent societies and work tirelessly to complete their tasks — something many humans can identify with. They are also, not incidentally, highly useful to human society, producing honey and beeswax — both of which are used in a wide range of products — while also pollinating the plants that feed us. “We are more likely to pay attention to something if we think it’s useful to us,” as Clayton told Salon in a phone interview. “We have a sense that bees are important to our economy and provide us with useful services.” Much of the movement to "save the bees" in the U.S. has been focused on a single species: Apis mellifera, the European honeybee. As its suggests, this species was not originally native to North America. It was introduced to the U.S. via colonization, where it is now out-competing many native pollinator species and also spreading disease to other insects. Honeybees are essentially domesticated insects, and in fact are far less endangered than many of the species they are now pushing out. Nonetheless, activism on behalf of the honeybees may benefit other pollinators in some ways. For example, honeybee activism is partially responsible for some U.S. states and the European Union outlawing neonicotinoids, a highly toxic pesticide. (In one study in which 55 trees in Oregon were sprayed with neonicotinoids, it was estimated that up to 107,470 bees were killed.) Raising awareness about a species in peril is most effective if the messaging is delivered with an actionable item, such as urging legislators to outlaw a specific pesticide. Studies show that making people feel guilty about climate change can motivate change, while others have suggested that shame, fear and anger can motivate behavioral change as well. But such emotions can easily fuel hopelessness if people are constantly made aware of new and overwhelming threats that they feel powerless to address.  “Fear-type campaigns that appeal to things like guilt have been used frequently,” said Laura Thomas-Walters, deputy director of experimental research at the Yale University program on Climate Change Communication. “But they can also lead to disengagement. It can make people want to deny the problem or not look at the campaign, or question whether the messenger is trustworthy at all.” As our climate heats up, primarily because humans continue to burn fossil fuels, that increases the frequency and severity of natural disasters like wildfires and hurricanes. Excessive heat alone now kills thousands of people each summer. We can expect hundreds more species to die off within the next decade if we do not take significant action to reduce emissions and enact further environmental protection.   Polar bear, Harbour Islands, Nunavut, Canada (Getty Images/Paul Souders)Yet the majority of U.S. adults rank climate change lower on their list of priorities compared to other threats like the state of the economy or health care costs. Our global society is juggling the looming threat of another pandemic, wars in Ukraine and Gaza, and political turmoil. Many people report experiencing climate burnout — perhaps after years of trying to reduce their carbon footprint without seeing larger-scale changes from people in power. Although oil and gas production continued to increase during Joe Biden's administration, the former president did make significant progress toward protecting the climate, including signing the largest federal climate change investment in U.S. history with the Inflation Reduction Act. But in just three months, the Trump administration has already rolled back more than 125 environmental protections and fired hundreds of employees at the Environmental Protection Agency. “We’re seeing an increase in climate doomerism, where people think climate change is real but there is nothing we can do about it, so what’s the point,” Thomas-Walters told Salon in a video call. “If you are already in the climate-doom mindset, then one more ad about the polar bears or bees dying is just going to reinforce your existing beliefs and make you feel even more hopeless.” Millions of people all over the world have felt the impacts of climate change in the form of natural disasters, rising sea levels and heat waves that impact their health or food sources. Those who have experienced climate disasters report forms of PTSD that may be triggered by similar events. Globally, an increasing number of people recognize climate change as a threat, said Tobias Brosch, a psychologist at the University of Geneva who studies studying how emotion affects behaviors related to sustainability. But in the U.S., a significant proportion of the public continues to believe that climate change is not real, a phenomenon closely linked to political partisanship.  Denying climate change could be understood as a psychological maneuver to process an irreconcilable threat, Brosch said. Ultimately, climate change poses an existential threat to humans, invoking one of two responses: fight or flight. Choosing to fight would require someone to change their lifestyle and make potentially challenging sacrifices, so it may be psychologically advantageous, in the short term, to "flee" by choosing climate denialism, Brosch said. Climate change “is a statistical thing that requires a fair amount of complexity, which leaves the human mind lots of avenues to escape from it,” Brosch told Salon in a video call. “If you have leaders saying it is not an issue, it is also easy to jump on that train.” It is unquestionably painful to face the truth about the global climate crisis, and emotionally logical to avoid the let-down of investing in a cause without seeing significant or meaningful change. Caring about the species we share the planet with, cute or otherwise, has been shown to be a major driver of conservation. It’s a tangible connection that implies goals we can work toward together.  That remains true if the animal in question is a reptile or parasite with few visible shared characteristics with humans — we can still recognize it as a living being sharing our planetary space, and that can move us to take action. “These emotional reactions that people feel in the context of climate change are among the most important predictors of wanting to take climate action,” Brosch said. “Emotions work as a sort of relevance indicator. They show us that something is important to us.” It's clearly true that individual changes to preserve the environment can only go so far without significant changes implemented by government and private industry. But humans have already saved dozens of species through conservation efforts. Those almost always begin with bringing awareness to a species, as has apparently happened with polar bears and honeybees.   “It’s also a form of denialism to say it’s all up to the politicians and industry to do something,” Brosch said. “As citizens, we do have a lot of potential impact. It’s just important that it's not just one person, but that there's some kind of collective action.” Read more about climate and the path forward

We're always more likely to save the fuzzy animals first. Faced with a global crisis, that's not a bad thing

If you ask children or college students to draw pictures to illustrate climate change, chances are that polar bears will make an appearance.

Since activists started fighting to protect the climate in the 1970s, certain animal species have become the poster children for various conservation movements. From images of polar bears drifting alone on melting sea ice to complex songs from whales taking over the radio airwaves to internet memes of sloths roaming their disappearing habitats, certain species rise to prominence in human perception, inspiring us to make changes and fight for their preservation. 

Yet in the past 12 years, at least 467 species have gone extinct, with most of these creatures — including a type of rodent called the melomy and a Hawaiian tree snail called Achatinella apexfulva — quietly disappearing and utterly unknown to the vast majority of humans. In part as a result of watching species after species go extinct, climate change burnout, in which people are overwhelmed by the severity of the climate crisis, and climate doomerism, in which people see climate change as irreversible and destruction as inevitable, are both increasing.

But in fact, history shows that humans do have the power to save animals on the brink of extinction. Such successes might be the most tangible representation of conservation that we have. Still, whether we rally behind a given animal species is largely based on whether we recognize parts of ourselves in them. 

When we see "polar bears on melting glaciers, we have an empathetic response," said Susan Clayton, a conservation psychologist at the College of Wooster. “It’s one way to take this big, amorphous concept," meaning climate change, "and make it more understandable.”

Whether we rally behind an animal is largely based on whether we recognize parts of ourselves in them.

In conservation, the term "flagship species" is used to refer to animals that represent something bigger, like an entire ecosystem. For example, the polar bear represents the Arctic, sea turtles serve as ambassadors to the sea, the bald eagle is iconic to North America and the giant panda symbolizes conservation efforts in China. 

Very often, these animals are larger mammals that live on land and share characteristics with humans. People are more likely to take action to protect a species if it is physically large and if they are flagship species.

Singling in on particular species can also help make climate change seem more personal. Studies show, for example, that people are more likely to help a single person than they are to take action to support a statistically large but abstract number of victims. 

“We are animals too, and as mammals with a certain biology, we are drawn to certain other species that have shared biological traits,” said Diogo Verissimo, a research fellow at the Environmental Change Institute. “It could also be, as is the case with the honeybee, that we seem to share their social structure in certain ways.”


Want more health and science stories in your inbox? Subscribe to Salon's weekly newsletter Lab Notes.


Honeybees — which are once again making headlines after commercial beekeepers reported record colony losses this year — are another species humans tend to rally behind for various reasons. For one thing, they are undeniably fuzzy and widely considered appealing. Bees have been anthropomorphized on screen, in films like “Bee Movie,” and on cereal boxes. As nearly everyone knows, honeybees also live in complex intelligent societies and work tirelessly to complete their tasks — something many humans can identify with. They are also, not incidentally, highly useful to human society, producing honey and beeswax — both of which are used in a wide range of products — while also pollinating the plants that feed us.

“We are more likely to pay attention to something if we think it’s useful to us,” as Clayton told Salon in a phone interview. “We have a sense that bees are important to our economy and provide us with useful services.”

Much of the movement to "save the bees" in the U.S. has been focused on a single species: Apis mellifera, the European honeybee. As its suggests, this species was not originally native to North America. It was introduced to the U.S. via colonization, where it is now out-competing many native pollinator species and also spreading disease to other insects. Honeybees are essentially domesticated insects, and in fact are far less endangered than many of the species they are now pushing out.

Nonetheless, activism on behalf of the honeybees may benefit other pollinators in some ways. For example, honeybee activism is partially responsible for some U.S. states and the European Union outlawing neonicotinoids, a highly toxic pesticide. (In one study in which 55 trees in Oregon were sprayed with neonicotinoids, it was estimated that up to 107,470 bees were killed.)

Raising awareness about a species in peril is most effective if the messaging is delivered with an actionable item, such as urging legislators to outlaw a specific pesticide. Studies show that making people feel guilty about climate change can motivate change, while others have suggested that shame, fear and anger can motivate behavioral change as well. But such emotions can easily fuel hopelessness if people are constantly made aware of new and overwhelming threats that they feel powerless to address. 

“Fear-type campaigns that appeal to things like guilt have been used frequently,” said Laura Thomas-Walters, deputy director of experimental research at the Yale University program on Climate Change Communication. “But they can also lead to disengagement. It can make people want to deny the problem or not look at the campaign, or question whether the messenger is trustworthy at all.”

As our climate heats up, primarily because humans continue to burn fossil fuels, that increases the frequency and severity of natural disasters like wildfires and hurricanes. Excessive heat alone now kills thousands of people each summer. We can expect hundreds more species to die off within the next decade if we do not take significant action to reduce emissions and enact further environmental protection.  

Polar BearPolar bear, Harbour Islands, Nunavut, Canada (Getty Images/Paul Souders)Yet the majority of U.S. adults rank climate change lower on their list of priorities compared to other threats like the state of the economy or health care costs. Our global society is juggling the looming threat of another pandemic, wars in Ukraine and Gaza, and political turmoil. Many people report experiencing climate burnout — perhaps after years of trying to reduce their carbon footprint without seeing larger-scale changes from people in power.

Although oil and gas production continued to increase during Joe Biden's administration, the former president did make significant progress toward protecting the climate, including signing the largest federal climate change investment in U.S. history with the Inflation Reduction Act. But in just three months, the Trump administration has already rolled back more than 125 environmental protections and fired hundreds of employees at the Environmental Protection Agency.

“We’re seeing an increase in climate doomerism, where people think climate change is real but there is nothing we can do about it, so what’s the point,” Thomas-Walters told Salon in a video call. “If you are already in the climate-doom mindset, then one more ad about the polar bears or bees dying is just going to reinforce your existing beliefs and make you feel even more hopeless.”

Millions of people all over the world have felt the impacts of climate change in the form of natural disasters, rising sea levels and heat waves that impact their health or food sources. Those who have experienced climate disasters report forms of PTSD that may be triggered by similar events.

Globally, an increasing number of people recognize climate change as a threat, said Tobias Brosch, a psychologist at the University of Geneva who studies studying how emotion affects behaviors related to sustainability. But in the U.S., a significant proportion of the public continues to believe that climate change is not real, a phenomenon closely linked to political partisanship. 

Denying climate change could be understood as a psychological maneuver to process an irreconcilable threat, Brosch said. Ultimately, climate change poses an existential threat to humans, invoking one of two responses: fight or flight. Choosing to fight would require someone to change their lifestyle and make potentially challenging sacrifices, so it may be psychologically advantageous, in the short term, to "flee" by choosing climate denialism, Brosch said.

Climate change “is a statistical thing that requires a fair amount of complexity, which leaves the human mind lots of avenues to escape from it,” Brosch told Salon in a video call. “If you have leaders saying it is not an issue, it is also easy to jump on that train.”

It is unquestionably painful to face the truth about the global climate crisis, and emotionally logical to avoid the let-down of investing in a cause without seeing significant or meaningful change. Caring about the species we share the planet with, cute or otherwise, has been shown to be a major driver of conservation. It’s a tangible connection that implies goals we can work toward together. 

That remains true if the animal in question is a reptile or parasite with few visible shared characteristics with humans — we can still recognize it as a living being sharing our planetary space, and that can move us to take action.

“These emotional reactions that people feel in the context of climate change are among the most important predictors of wanting to take climate action,” Brosch said. “Emotions work as a sort of relevance indicator. They show us that something is important to us.”

It's clearly true that individual changes to preserve the environment can only go so far without significant changes implemented by government and private industry. But humans have already saved dozens of species through conservation efforts. Those almost always begin with bringing awareness to a species, as has apparently happened with polar bears and honeybees.  

“It’s also a form of denialism to say it’s all up to the politicians and industry to do something,” Brosch said. “As citizens, we do have a lot of potential impact. It’s just important that it's not just one person, but that there's some kind of collective action.”

Read more

about climate and the path forward

Read the full story here.
Photos courtesy of

Small Alligator Rescued in Boston After Slithering Into the City's Heart on Social Media

Wildlife officials say a small alligator spotted along the Charles River in Boston this week has been rescued and delivered to safety

BOSTON (AP) — It wasn’t a croc — there really was an alligator on the loose in Boston.And the story of the city's slithering saurian appears to have a happy ending. The small alligator, spotted along the Charles River in Boston multiple times this week, has been rescued and delivered to safety, wildlife officials in Massachusetts said Thursday.The approximately foot-long crocodilian startled a few people and became an instant star on social media after confused onlookers took videos of it slithering away from sight. But the animal is not native to Massachusetts, and couldn't possibly survive the harsh New England winter, so the search for the wayward gator was on.A local wildlife educator captured the critter on Wednesday night, and it's now awaiting a permanent home, officials said.Harvard University graduate student Whitney Lieberman was among the residents who caught a glimpse of the exotic visitor. She said she notified wildlife authorities when she saw the creature while she was jogging to work.“Yeah, I did a double-take. For a second, I had to check myself — alligators are not native to Boston waterways, right?” Lieberman said. “I texted my co-workers because I had a morning meeting: ‘Hey guys, this is a good excuse to be late for work. There is an alligator right in front of me and I don’t know what to do.'"The animal was in jeopardy due to the chilly temperatures on the Charles, which was 51 degrees Fahrenheit (32 degrees Celsius) on Thursday. Alligators prefer temperatures above 80 degrees Fahrenheit (27 degrees Celsius). They are cold-blooded and can't regulate their own temperature, so they enter a dormant, energy-saving state called brumation to survive colder temperatures.Joe Kenney, who runs a wildlife education business called Joe's Craz-zy Critters, captured the alligator, the Massachusetts Division of Fisheries and Wildlife said in a statement. The state has temporarily authorized Kenney to keep the alligator while it evaluates the best long-term placement for it, the department said.The wildlife department said the alligator's appearance is still being investigated, but added it was most likely a pet that escaped or was intentionally released.“MassWildlife is working in close collaboration with the Environmental Police to find a safe home for this alligator as an educational animal with a permitted facility. This incident serves as an important reminder that it is not legal to keep alligators or any crocodilian species as pets in Massachusetts,” state herpetologist Mike Jones said in a statement.Alligators have a history of occasionally showing up in urban areas far from their native ranges. One, dubbed Chance the Snapper, turned up in Chicago in summer 2019 and was eventually trapped. Another one showed up on the Charles River in the Boston area in 2010.Whittle reported from Scarborough, Maine.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – Oct. 2025

What we’ve done to the salmon

This story is part of a series supported by Animal Charity Evaluators, which received a grant from EarthShare. The last few decades have seen, arguably, the most sweeping transformation in how humans produce meat, and it has nothing to do with chickens, pigs, or cows. It has to do with fish. Traditionally, the vast majority […]

Farming salmon is bad at any stage of the fishs’ lives. This story is part of a series supported by Animal Charity Evaluators, which received a grant from EarthShare. The last few decades have seen, arguably, the most sweeping transformation in how humans produce meat, and it has nothing to do with chickens, pigs, or cows. It has to do with fish. Inside this story Over half of the world’s seafood now comes from fish farms, which resemble underwater factory farms. Chickens, pigs, and cows were domesticated over thousands of years, but fish have been domesticated in under a century. It’s created serious welfare issues, especially for salmon. Salmon are carnivorous and migrate thousands of miles. On farms, they’re reduced to swimming in small tanks and eating pellets. Fish farming has taken over the seafood sector, but some experts argue that it’s moved too fast, and we need to better understand welfare issues. Traditionally, the vast majority of fish that people consume has come from the ocean. But in 2022, humanity hit a significant milestone: Seafood companies began to raise more fish on farms than they caught from the sea. And they farm astonishingly large numbers of fish — in tiny, cramped enclosures that resemble underwater factory farms.  It amounts to the fastest and largest animal domestication project that humanity has ever undertaken.  For most of the land animals we eat today, domestication — or, as French fish researcher Fabrice Teletchea defined it, the “long and endless process during which animals become, generations after generations, more adapted to both captive conditions and humans” — has taken place over thousands of years. “In contrast,” a team of marine biologists wrote in the journal Science in 2007, the rise of fish farming “is a contemporary phenomenon,” taking off on a commercial scale around the 1970s.  By the early 2000s, humans were farming well over 200 aquatic animal species, virtually all of which had been domesticated or forced into unnatural conditions in extreme captivity over the course of the previous century, with many in just the prior decade. To put it another way, the marine biologists wrote, aquatic domestication occurred 100 times faster than the domestication of land animals — and on a vastly larger scale. Today, some 80 billion land animals are farmed annually, while an estimated 763 billion fish and crustaceans are farmed each year, a figure projected to quickly grow in the decade ahead. What’s more, this attempt to speedrun domestication occurred even as a clear scientific consensus emerged in recent decades that fish can suffer and feel pain. The revolution in how humans produce seafood has enormous implications for our relationship with species we’ve barely given any thought to. To understand why, consider America’s favorite fish to eat, and one of the most difficult to farm: salmon.  Like farming tigers Salmon farming is a relatively new industry, and it emerged largely in response to manmade problems.  Over the last century, overfishing — combined with industrial pollution, climate change, and heavy damming — has decimated wild Atlantic salmon populations. By 2000, the species gained protection under the Endangered Species Act after it was nearly driven to extinction in the US, effectively banning the commercial fishing of Atlantic salmon. Salmon populations in Europe, along with Pacific salmon populations on the West Coast of the US and beyond, have also experienced significant declines.  To take pressure off depleted wild populations, seafood producers began to scale salmon farming in the 1970s, with ample help from governments in the form of R&D, grants, state financing programs, and more. It’s proven to be a smashing commercial success. Last year, salmon farming companies — which are most concentrated in Norway, Chile, and the UK and export their product around the world — produced 2.8 million metric tons of the fish, or around 560 million individual salmon. They’re typically raised in tanks on land until they’re a year old then transferred to nets and cages floating in the ocean just offshore to be fattened up and eventually slaughtered (they’re supposed to be rendered unconscious prior to slaughter, with either electric stunning or a club to the head, though some aren’t successfully stunned). About one out of every five are shipped off to the US, where “young affluent consumers love to eat salmon,” according to the Norwegian company Mowi, the world’s biggest salmon producer. This taste for salmon and the farming industry it has necessitated has, in just a few generations, dramatically transformed what it means to be a salmon. In the wild, salmon live incredibly complex lives and embark on epic journeys. But on farms, they can’t do any of that.  According to Becca Franks, an assistant professor of environmental studies at New York University, salmon farming has created grave welfare problems by denying the animals the ability to engage in two of their essential natural behaviors: migrating and hunting.  In the US, Atlantic salmon begin their lives as eggs buried a foot under freshwater riverbeds in Maine, where they remain for six months until they hatch and emerge in search of food. At a few years old, they migrate hundreds of miles northward into the salty Atlantic ocean, then hundreds of miles further out into the Labrador Sea, near Greenland. There, they quickly put on weight — feeding on krill, herring, and crustaceans — which they’ll need for the long journey home that they make after a couple years of dining out at sea. Following scents and using the earth’s magnetic field, Atlantic salmon swim over 1,000 miles back to their home streams to spawn the next generation.  The salmon’s life cycle inspires more awe and reverence than most species in the animal kingdom, but on farms, they’re reduced to swimming in tiny circles for years and subsisting on small, manmade pellets. Their “welfare is harmed through loss of agency and choice,” Franks told me in an email. She likens salmon farming to trying to farm tigers.   Sophie Ryan, CEO of the Global Salmon Initiative — a coalition of salmon farming companies — challenged the idea that domestication has harmed salmon. “They have been domesticated over more than 50 years — similar to cattle or poultry — and have been selectively bred to thrive in a farm environment,” Ryan told me in an email. “Their nutritional needs, swimming patterns, and energy use are different from wild salmon, because their environment and purpose are different.” The selective breeding that Ryan speaks of has been used to make farmed salmon grow twice as fast as their wild counterparts, which has led to a number of serious health issues: heart problems, spinal deformities, high levels of deafness, and increased risk of an early death. They’re also more aggressive than wild salmon. To boost growth even further, salmon farms keep their lights on up to 24 hours a day, which makes the fish eat more and can damage their retinas. And in a concerning twist, the domestication of farmed salmon is hurting wild salmon. Since the 1970s, tens of millions of farmed salmon have managed to escape and compete for resources with wild salmon and even mate with them, leading to “genetic pollution” that has resulted in a hybrid line of salmon.  “We may now need to recognize a new biological entity — Salmo domesticus,” biologist Mart Gross wrote in a 1998 paper, “and treat it as an ‘exotic’ when it escapes into the wild.” Some research has found that these hybrid fish have lower survival rates. That means that the farming of salmon, which was intended to give wild salmon populations a break, created a new challenge for them. “Escape prevention is a top priority, with ongoing improvements in net strength, mooring systems, and real-time digital monitoring,” Ryan of the Global Salmon Initiative said. “Where escapes do occur, companies are required to report them and work with regulators to assess potential impacts on wild populations.” Franks considers fish farming a form of “captive dewilding”: the process of modifying animals to conform to captivity and to the harms that befall them as a result. And the reality of that captivity can be incredibly cruel. Fish farms up close In 2019, animal rights activist Erin Wing worked undercover with the group Animal Outlook for four months at a salmon hatchery in Maine operated by Cooke Aquaculture, one of the world’s largest salmon farming companies. Wing documented workers culling diseased fish by hitting them against the sides of tanks multiple times; fish thrown into buckets still alive, left to suffocate or be crushed to death by other fish; fish born with spinal deformities; and fish dying from nasty fungal diseases that ate away parts of their faces. “Over the years, you kinda get desensitized,” one employee told her.  In response to Wing’s investigation, Cooke Aquaculture CEO Glenn Cooke said in a statement that the company would re-train employees at the Maine facility. “We place animal welfare high in our operating standards and endeavor to raise our animals with optimal care and consideration of best practice,” Cooke said, adding that “what we saw today is most certainly not reflective of these standards.”  Wing, who has spent her career investigating factory farms, is skeptical of industry standards. “There are these [animal welfare] industry standards that are in place, and there are these guidelines, but at the end of the day, there’s not really any enforcement,” Wing told me. “So these farms will make up whatever rules they want that will work for them, for their workers, and then they’ll operate as they see fit. And that usually results in a lot of these animals suffering needlessly.”  Some of the suffering stems from putting farmed animals in the ocean, as crowding hundreds of thousands of salmon together in open waters attracts sea lice — tiny, painful parasites that feed on the salmon’s skin and can even kill them. In 2023, almost 17 percent of Norwegian farmed salmon died before they could be slaughtered for meat, largely from infectious diseases and injuries. To combat the scourge of sea lice, salmon farmers had, for years, dumped chemicals into the water to kill them, along with antibiotics and other chemicals to protect the fish from a range of fungal and viral diseases. These pollutants, combined with vast amounts of animal waste generated by the salmon, fall to the ocean floor and pollute marine ecosystems. That, in turn, contributes to what Franks calls “environmental dewilding,” or the process of modifying natural water bodies with artificial infrastructure — in this case, fish farm pens and cages — and polluting them. Sea lice have since developed resistance to these chemicals, so, over the last decade, salmon farmers have switched to other methods — including subjecting salmon to high heat — which can cause pain, injuries, and death.   The International Salmon Farmers Association and the Global Seafood Alliance didn’t respond to interview requests. Not just salmon  If we accept that farming salmon is bad for them and the environments in which they’re raised — and that we should protect dwindling wild populations — then we’ll have to accept eating a lot less salmon. We’ll also have to reconsider the ethical implications of farming many other fish species. Fair Fish, a team of fish welfare researchers, has compared the natural behavior and welfare needs of nearly 100 fish species with the conditions they experience on farms. Out of the 100 analyzed species, only two — tilapia and carp — have “the potential to be farmed in somewhat decent conditions,” according to João Saraiva, who researches fish ethology at the Centre of Marine Sciences in Faro, Portugal, and runs the nonprofit Fish Etho Group. But that doesn’t mean that they actually are; both tilapia and carp farms tend to be overcrowded, with poor water quality and high rates of disease. (Saraiva has worked with Fair Fish on its analyses but is no longer involved in the project.)  By contrast, he said, salmon is “way down on the list,” meaning it’s especially hard for farms to meet their basic welfare needs.  Fair Fish’s research demonstrates how little attention the fish farming industry, and the governments that helped it take over the seafood sector, has paid to the simple question of how its captives experience being farmed. It also illustrates the damage we can do when we flatten “fish” — an incredibly diverse group of species — into a monolith.  Franks said industry and government need to pump the brakes on the expansion of fish and crustacean farming, which is currently the world’s fastest-growing agricultural sector, noting, “I think we should not be farming any new species of fish or crustaceans and putting in transition programs for folks already farming those species to move towards seaweeds and bivalves.” The latter is a class of invertebrate animals that includes scallops, oysters, and mussels, which Franks said have far fewer environmental and welfare concerns than farmed fish and crustaceans (whether bivalves are sentient or can feel pain remains an ongoing scientific debate).   She’s one of the few academics studying fish farming willing to go there, to suggest that we ought to fundamentally rethink how we produce seafood and how much of it we consume. “I think there is a huge reluctance to even broach the possibility of shifting diets away” from animal protein, said Franks. When the global fish farming boom took off, many in the field had good intentions, and it looked good on paper; a way to boost the global food supply without further exploiting oceans. Plus, fish tend to have a lower carbon footprint than farmed land species (though higher than plant-based proteins). But few questions were asked about what it would mean, ethically and environmentally, to rapidly domesticate, then confine and slaughter, hundreds of billions of animals annually with distinct needs — let alone the capacity to feel pain.  Researchers like Saraiva and Franks are trying to convince the world to catch up with what we now know about fish and to further expand our knowledge. As consumers, we can help, and we can start by thinking twice about the salmon on our plates. 

Housing secretary tells Labour MPs to vote down planning bill amendment

Amendment restricts protection for animals to allow faster house buildingHousing secretary Steve Reed has told Labour MPs to vote down an amendment to the new planning bill intended to protect British wildlife and its habitats from destruction.The amendment, which was passed with a large majority in the House of Lords, restricts the most controversial part of the draft bill by removing protected animals such as dormice, badgers, hedgehogs, otters and nightingales, and rare habitats such as wetlands and ancient woodlands, from new rules which allow developers to sidestep environmental laws to speed up house building. Continue reading...

Housing secretary Steve Reed has told Labour MPs to vote down an amendment to the new planning bill intended to protect British wildlife and its habitats from destruction.The amendment, which was passed with a large majority in the House of Lords, restricts the most controversial part of the draft bill by removing protected animals such as dormice, badgers, hedgehogs, otters and nightingales, and rare habitats such as wetlands and ancient woodlands, from new rules which allow developers to sidestep environmental laws to speed up house building.Under the draft legislation proposed by Labour, developers will be able to pay into a national “nature recovery fund” and go ahead with their project straight away, instead of having to carry out an environmental survey and to first avoid, then mitigate damage, before putting spades into the ground.Experts say this is a regression on decades-old environmental law and it has been criticised as “cash to trash” by ecologists and environmental groups.The Lords’ amendment would mean the nature recovery fund is restricted to impacts from water and air pollution, meaning developers would still have to take the usual measures to mitigate damage to wildlife and habitats.Reed has recommended rejecting the amendment when the bill returns to the Commons on Thursday for the final stages before being passed into law.In a letter to MPs some of the UK’s biggest nature charities, including the Wildlife Trusts and RSPB, say the government rollback of environmental law “lacks any rigorous scientific or ecological justification.“There is no credible, published, or well established evidence that this model can simply be scaled or replicated for multiple species nationwide without risking serious ecological harm, legal uncertainty, and increased costs for both developers and land managers,” the letter reads.The Guardian revealed this week how the chancellor, Rachel Reeves, and housing minister Matthew Pennycook have met scores of developers in the past year over the planning bill. Reeves has not met a single environmental organisation or the body for professional ecologists, while Pennycook has had just four meetings with such groups, compared with 16 with leading developers.A spokesperson for the Ministry for Housing, Communities and Local Government said: “The planning and infrastructure bill will remove barriers to building vital new homes and infrastructure and this amendment is an unnecessary limit on the benefits which the nature restoration fund will create for both nature and the economy. There are already safeguards in our legislation to ensure environmental delivery plans are effective for the environment, as we get Britain building again and deliver the homes we need.”

I discovered a new Australian native bee, but there are still hundreds we need to identify

The discovery of a horned native bee that pollinates a rare plant highlights how little we know about Australian pollinators.

The female of the species has devil-like black horns, and a taste for extremely rare pollen. But until now, this Australian native bee has never been officially named or identified. My discovery of Megachile (Hackeriapis) lucifer, underscores the lack of knowledge and investment in Australia’s unique native bees. Whilst considerable funding and attention has been focused on the introduced European honey bee, Apis mellifera, there are still hundreds of native bees that are yet to be identified and named. How was this bee found? This fascinating new megachile (or leaf cutter) bee was first discovered while on a surveying trip in the Bremer Ranges in the goldfields region of Western Australia in 2019. I was conducting surveys for pollinators – such as bees, other insects, flies and wasps – of a critically endangered plant called Bremer marianthus, or Marianthus aquilonaris, which is only known in this region. Sadly, as is common for many threatened plant species, the pollinators for this straggly shrub with blue-tinged white flowers were completely unknown. One of the native bees collected on this visit immediately caught my attention because the female had large devil-like horns protruding from her clypeus – the broad plate on the front of a bee’s head. When I investigated, it was clear this wasn’t a species that had been found before. Whilst some native bees have horns or prongs, none have the large and slightly curved horns of this one. Comparing it with museum specimens, along with DNA barcoding, confirmed this species was new to collectors and to science. DNA barcoding also revealed a male native bee I had collected at the site was her partner, but he lacked horns. This is the opposite of the situation in much of the animal kingdom, where the males are more likely to be amoured. Bringer of light When you discover a new species, you have the honour of choosing a name. The first new species of native bee I “described” (or scientifically identified) in 2022, Leioproctus zephyr, is named after my dog, Zephyr. For this new species, the horns meant the name Lucifer was a perfect choice. Lucifer is also Latin for “light bringer”, and I hope this new species brings to light the wonders of our native bees. Australia has more than 2,000 species of native bees. They help keep our ecosystems healthy and play a crucial role in pollinating wildflowers. We need to understand native bees This new native bee, Megachile lucifer, is only one of an estimated 500 native bees that are not described. Far more attention has been given to the introduced European honey bee Apis mellifera. Whilst the honey bee is important for crop pollination, this species is not threatened, and can in fact harm our native bees. The truth is honeybees compete with native animals for food and habitat, disrupt native pollination systems and pose a serious biosecurity threat to our honey and pollination industries. Currently, there no requirement to survey for native bees in areas about to be mined, farmed or developed. Even if they are found, any species that has not been officially identified it has no conservation standing, which is one reason why taxonomic research is so important. Protect the pollinators Megachile lucifer was collected on a flowering mallee plant that attracted thousands of native bees and other insects. In subsequent years of surveying this site, the mallee was not flowering, Megachile lucifer was not seen, and far fewer insects were recorded. With no monitoring of native bees, we also don’t know how their populations are faring in response to threatening processes, like climate change. More interest and investment into the taxonomy, conservation and ecology of native bees, means we can protect both them and the rare and precious plants they pollinate. Kit Prendergast received funding from the Atlas of Living Australia, with a Biodiversity Mobilisation Grant and Goldfields Environmental Management Group Grant. The surveys were conducted as an ecological consultant, subcontracted to Botanica Consulting, who were commissioned by Audalia Resources Limited.

Margay Rescued in Costa Rica After Backyard Sighting

A young margay wandered into a residential backyard here, prompting a swift rescue by environmental officials who found the wildcat in an oddly calm state. The incident unfolded on November 5 when a local resident noticed the small feline resting on a low branch in their yard. Concerned about potential risks to a child or […] The post Margay Rescued in Costa Rica After Backyard Sighting appeared first on The Tico Times | Costa Rica News | Travel | Real Estate.

A young margay wandered into a residential backyard here, prompting a swift rescue by environmental officials who found the wildcat in an oddly calm state. The incident unfolded on November 5 when a local resident noticed the small feline resting on a low branch in their yard. Concerned about potential risks to a child or nearby farm animals, the family contacted the National System of Conservation Areas (SINAC), part of the Ministry of Environment and Energy (MINAE). Officials from the Tortuguero Conservation Area arrived quickly and identified the animal as a margay, known scientifically as Leopardus wiedii and locally as caucel. The cat’s docile demeanor stood out—it appeared asleep and showed no fear of people, which raised questions about its background. For the safety of both the community and the animal, the team captured it without incident. They placed the margay in a secure carrier and moved it to an approved wildlife rescue center for assessment. Veterinarians at the center sedated the margay for a thorough check. They reported the animal in solid health overall, with no major wounds. However, they removed several porcupine quills from around its mouth, signs of a recent failed hunt in the forest. Experts now observe the young margay over the coming days to check for any human habituation, which could suggest prior captivity. If tests confirm it retains wild instincts, authorities plan to release it back into a protected natural area. SINAC used the event to stress proper handling of wildlife encounters. Residents should avoid contact and report sightings to officials or emergency services at 9-1-1, allowing trained teams to step in safely. Margays rank among Costa Rica’s six native wildcat species, sharing forests with jaguars, pumas, ocelots, oncillas, and jaguarundis. These agile climbers can descend trees headfirst and grip branches with a single hind paw. Yet they face ongoing pressures from shrinking habitats and illegal pet trade captures. This rescue highlights how human expansion brings wildlife closer to homes, calling for balanced conservation efforts in regions like Pococí. The post Margay Rescued in Costa Rica After Backyard Sighting appeared first on The Tico Times | Costa Rica News | Travel | Real Estate.

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