Ethical Costs, Ecological Values
Wolves feature two unusual evolutionary strategies—cooperative breeding and cooperative hunting—that operate primarily through sophisticated interactions and interdependencies within family groups. These close, complex, cooperative relationships cannot be expected to withstand heavy predation, natural or otherwise. Human killing at annual rates of 15 percent or higher appears to produce lingering biological impacts even when numbers recover to prior levels—impacts to social structure, hunting, distribution, genetics, and annual mortality rates. Sometimes mortality rates increase sharply well after the killing has ended.
Extraordinary intelligence, expressiveness, and emotional depth enable wolves to maintain their sophisticated bonds as cooperative breeders and cooperative hunters. This same high sentience that is so integral to their biology also provides an ethical basis for challenging the current control programs. Many people recognize the importance if not preeminence of ethical considerations in determining how we should interact with other species, especially animals of such high sentience. Many scientists now also feel this way and recognize how integral intelligence, emotions, personalities, traditions, culture, and other previously ignored aspects of sentience are to the biology of nonhuman social animals.
So prominent has this thinking become in the greater society that it must be treated as a major societal cost to be considered explicitly before deciding about wolf control or other such actions. Scientists in particular are obliged to recognize and be guided or constrained by the ethical implications of their work. It remains for many ADF&G biologists—who regularly emphasize that “we manage wolves [and other wildlife] for populations, not individuals or groups”—to see this ethical light.
There is immensely more worth to wolves than what is derived from fur money or their value as a trophy. For example, the close parallels in many aspects of social behavior between wolves and primitive man offer us an opportunity to learn more about ourselves. We know remarkably little about the origins of human aggression and how it is or isn't controlled in some societies. We have much to learn about the roots of primitive culture, and even of possibly more efficient forms of government. By studying wolves and other advanced social creatures, we stand to learn something about the more complex variations of the same patterns found in humans.
We also know it is not necessary to possess an animal and materially do something with it in order to enjoy it and use it. Many derive an immeasurable thrill at the sight of a wolf track or of wolves, upon hearing the singing of a group, or just from knowing that out there somewhere in the wilderness another intelligent society lives unmolested by humans. These uses of wolves and wilderness are legitimate.
In a world of limited resources but increasing human numbers and demands, nonconsumptive uses such as watching and photographing may, in fact, have the greatest validity. Viewed in this perspective, we can at the very least insist that the days of aerial gunning, snaring, denning, poisoning, and other types of wolf slaughter—whether called predator control or not—and the resulting degradation of wilderness must remain in our past.
The Missing Sense of Wonder
What leaves me shaking my head the most about all these predator control programs is the missing sense of wonder. Listening to biologists involved in control programs, I am always struck by how blandly and matter-of-factly they talk about killing wolves. They seem to think being “objective” in ignoring items like behavior and sentience is the mark of a good wildlife scientist. How sad and revolting that professionals entrusted with the management of these fascinating, important creatures view them in such shallow ways.
I spend long hours observing wolves in the wild year-round, during the summertime mostly sitting quietly with a spotting scope near their dens. The behavior I see is truly enthralling. Quite likely, while I was observing some of it at a den in Denali National Park, ADF&G biologists swooped down in a helicopter and suddenly turned similarly enthralling scenes at a wolf den on the Alaska Peninsula into a horror show culminating with a bullet through the head of each pup.
We are the ultimate losers from all this wolf killing, I am convinced, for the way it diminishes the ability of our surroundings to evoke the sense of wonder that helps us not just to live, but to be alive.
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Journal Notes: Snowmachine Hunt
Sgt. MK (Fish and Wildlife Trooper from Palmer, who is in charge of the investigation) told me that the two hunters who killed the wolves had told them that there were eight wolves in the group but that they shot only the six. I told him that I doubted this, based on the fact that we scoured the area and saw no wolf tracks exiting the area.
The two hunters did not deny that the wolves had run hard down the last slope from their snowmachines. However, they claimed that the wolves must have heard the snowmachines while still on the opposite side of the mountain, out of line of sight. They said they topped the hill to find the wolves near the bottom, and then shot them there, all the way from the crest of the hill. However, this would have been a one- to one-and-a-half-mile distance. They had one assault rifle, which they said “amazed” them with its accuracy. Also, J told me he had checked the wolf carcasses with a metal detector and there were no rounds in any of them.
Therefore, this would mean the hunters shot them from one mile away, and the rounds still had enough velocity and energy to whiz right through all six carcasses! This is far-fetched, to say the least, and, as indicated, there are strong indications from the tracks alone that there was a direct chase and that they shot the wolves from much farther downslope.
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Snapshot: Wolf Summit
Priscilla Feral
I first met Gordon at the Wolf Summit in Fairbanks, in January 1993, the one that Governor Walter Hickel called together. It was a privilege for me to sit there and listen to people whose work I had long admired, like Victor Van Ballenberghe and Gordon Haber. It was the first time I'd met David Mech, too. At one point, Gordon and Mech faced off in a very public way about what they believed in. Mech was head of some wolf specialist group, and would later approve of the state's wolf control plan. Gordon was just so funny and so gutsy that he really impressed me. He said to Mech, “You know I don't run with your pack,” and a bunch of us just burst out laughing.
As Gordon talked, I got a sense of his humanity, the depth of his wonder. Wonder is the word he used to describe his passion for the wolves he studied. And he never lost that passion, that wonder. Whenever there was an uproar about wolves, whether it was in Yellowstone or Denali, he'd say, “Keep the people out and let the wolves be.” That really spoke to my principles. So after he talked at the Wolf Summit, I went up and introduced myself. Then we started sponsoring his work.
Gordon and I were different in many ways; he was a rough backwoods guy and I was a citified person, as he would say. He used to try to get me to hike out to a wolf den with him, but I was cautious about bears. Even walking the path to his cabin, I'd worry. And he found that hilarious, making me scared. He'd tell me, “Oh, gee, I wouldn't worry about it, I get charged by a grizzly on the path to my cabin only a couple times a year.” He just loved the excitement and tension of having that experience, I think.
We shared a single-mindedness about what freedom was, and that wolves deserved it. We were united over the idea that the wolf control program in Alaska was deplorable. That was what attracted me to working with him, his principled thinking. It was unmatched among all others that I admired. They broke the mold and threw it out when they made him.
Over the years his scientific arguments helped to unravel a lot of wrong. Some would say he alienated people, but you just can't work with wolves in Alaska without enemies. The question was whether his science was good, whether he had the intestinal fortitude and work ethic to do what needed to be done. It was, and he did. He was brilliant and enormously valuable.
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Snapshot: Picking P
ilots
Troy Dunn
Gordon flew with some big-name folks, like Don Sheldon. But there was some pressure not to fly Gordon. One of the pilots he had before me said he finally stopped because people would tell him, “If you're going to fly Gordon Haber, then we're not going to use you.” One former pilot told me that he felt wolf opponents might sabotage his aircraft or harm his family.
But for me it was a real honor. My wife and I were really interested in wolves, and when we started learning about the state sponsored snaring programs, we kept seeing the name of Gordon Haber. We wanted to help, and since I had the capability to do that, we sent a letter to Priscilla Feral, hoping to reach Gordon.
A couple of weeks later, we got a phone call. My wife answered, and said to me in an excited voice while covering the phone, “Hey, it's him, it's Gordon Haber!” It was just so exciting for us both to have him call us, this iconic hero of wildlife. Then when we met him, well, the mental image we'd had didn't match his physical presence—we had this vision of a six-foot-six lumberjack with a beard ready to tear into anybody. Although not imposing in stature, Gordon, the former hockey player, was still one tough man as he proved to me on many hikes into the backcountry.
It was the beginning of a great friendship. I flew with him for ten years, the longest continuous run of any of his pilots, and I got to know what he wanted and he knew what I could do. There was a lot of unspoken communication.
Once we were flying out of McGrath, right when they first started the McGrath wolf control. I went to pay for my fuel, and a woman who was all bundled up and leaning against a post said to me, “You riding with Haber?” All of a sudden, I felt like I was in some wild western. “It's more like he's riding with me,” I said. “Do you have a problem with that?” She looked down a second or two, and then said, “I guess not.” It turned out she was the wife of one of the Board of Game members who was pushing for more wolf control. I just left there thinking, Where the hell am I, in the 1800s Wild West?
Gordon was really good at choosing fights; he was more selective than I am. He'd say to me, “You don't have to stick up for me. Let it go. That's not the fight you've got to fight.” He had focus. When I would want to answer some letter to the editor based on misinformation, he'd tell me, “I don't care about that little stuff. We need to fight the long-term fight.”
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31 As noted in the epilogue, this 10 percent figure includes areas unsuitable for prey or wolves, such as vast icefields. More accurately, predator control is now taking place on 20 percent of Alaska's available land.
32 See the epilogue for 2012 data on the magnitude of Alaska's wolf control.
33 This is in the same region where the Chignik teacher incident occurred two years later.
CHAPTER 13
ENDANGERED SPECIES: THE PROBLEM WITH DELISTING NORTHERN ROCKIES WOLVES
IN 1974, WHILE STILL A GRADUATE STUDENT, HABER PRESENTED A PAPER SUGGESTING a different way of evaluating species for endangered status: not by simply counting their numbers but by recognizing and preserving the presence and health of their functional characteristics. This systems approach guided his work with the NPS-appointed scientific committee on the reintroduction of wolves to Yellowstone in 1989–1991. For the rest of his life, Haber continued to closely monitor and write about this reintroduction to the Lower 48, most recently decrying the wolves' endangered species delisting by U.S. Secretary of the Interior Ken Salazar. Haber feared what individual state management would mean for these highly social and tightly integrated wolf families as they crossed over national park boundaries and between states. As always, his conclusions are firmly grounded in what he learned from his forty-three years with Denali's wolf families.
THE TRADITIONAL WAY OF EVALUATING THE STATUS OF AN animal species is to look primarily at its abundance. If numbers are rapidly diminishing or few remain, we usually classify it as threatened or endangered. If the species is relatively abundant over most of its original range, we usually don't. Generally, the larger the population, the more apt we are to consider it thriving. However, for most species, especially for highly social species like wolves, this concept is inadequate and can do more harm than good in our attempts to preserve the planet's biodiversity.
For wolves and other highly social species, and probably for most others as well, we must learn to recognize the most important functional characteristics and then closely guard these, not just the numerical status. When important functional characteristics are significantly affected by our activities, we should immediately consider the populations involved as threatened or endangered and take appropriate remedial action—even if numbers haven't yet decreased. For some species, like wolves, this implies little or no exploitation. Other than relatively light and sporadic subsistence use in areas where it is a traditional practice, we shouldn't allow any harvests of natural wolf populations.
It is ecological nonsense to assume we can exploit any wildlife species just because its numbers remain high, particularly for a species like the wolf, which, near the top of the food chain, has been exposed to only low levels of exploitation by other species throughout its evolutionary history. And yet, on the advice of his biologists, the secretary of the interior of the United States has removed wolves from the endangered species list throughout most of the northern Rocky Mountains.
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Tweet
August 16, 2009
Found Toklat at a site 4–5 mi (7.2 km) from natal den. Most if not all 11 older wolves still together provisioning the fast-growing pups.
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Delisting means that individual states assume management responsibility and can allow wolves to be hunted. Agency biologists and other proponents of delisting argue that there are no worries about the population's genetic diversity, and that the population will therefore remain viable, that is, persist overall, albeit at some smaller population size, in the face of regulated state hunting. Opponents argue that the Interior Department has not yet shown there is enough genetic mixing for the population to be viable in the face of hunting, that wolf numbers could end up declining much more sharply than expected. The Interior Department has replied that it will monitor the situation carefully to ensure that wolf numbers will not drop below certain levels.
The underlying problem with the arguments on both sides is that ultimately they place too much emphasis on the numbers of wolves and their population and not enough on the biological features and primary functional units that most define this species and set it apart. This is also the fundamental biological flaw in the thinking behind delisting wolves of the western Great Lakes region and in allowing heavy killing of wolves across the north in general.
Fragmentation and Degradation
Routine public ground hunting (without direct use of airplanes, helicopters, snowmobiles, etc.) is unlikely to suppress numbers as in the worst-case scenarios being envisioned particularly for the northern Rockies and in some cases might, because of social fragmentation, even temporarily result in higher numbers. However, any substantial ongoing exploitation of a species with a long evolutionary history of and complex adaptations for cooperative breeding and cooperative hunting, but with no comparable history of being exploited, stands to degrade the species' biology in other important ways.
As noted in previous chapters, the biology of organisms, societies, and systems is described by behavior, patterns, processes, and much more, at multiple scales and across scales, not just by the number of individuals present or how fast they recover from losses. The number of individuals present at any given time, that is, their abundance, is more of a manifestation of the biology—of the behavior, patterns, processes, etc.—and, for wolves, is not a very sensitive manifestation.
Genomes and patterns of genetic variation across populations and within and between primary functional units (such as families and societies) are of central importance in defining the biology of a species. But so too is the large amount of information that is transmitted across
generations via learning, especially in ultra-social species like the wolf that feature prolonged dependency of the young, cooperative breeding, and cooperative hunting. Ultimately such behaviors or predispositions are encoded in the genome. However, simply preserving the genome is not enough to ensure their expression in the face of hunting or trapping.
Wolf numbers often rebound from public hunting, trapping, and heavier agency killing, at least in the short term, without reflecting anything obvious to most observers about other impacts. Nonetheless, there is evidence of lingering impacts—even after numerical recoveries—on the social structure and other behavior, hunting patterns, distribution (including territories), genetic variations, and mortality patterns of survivors and recolonizers. Again, these impacts begin showing up by the time annual areawide hunting and trapping losses have reached 15 to 20 percent, that is, at rates below what usually would be needed to offset annual reproduction.
Remember that the primary functional units of wolf biology are families and extended families featuring among the most sophisticated forms of cooperation known for vertebrates. A relatively few of the oldest, experienced wolves, especially the primary alpha breeders, typically assume the key roles. As the previous chapters explained, because these core adults commonly stand out near the forefront as leaders or with other assertive behavior, they are disproportionately vulnerable to ground and aerial shooting. Although young, inexperienced wolves generally account for most of the trapping losses, the behavior of the core adults leaves them vulnerable to this killing method as well—such as when they try to help other family members who are snared and in the process risk getting caught themselves. The assertive behavior of core adults also means that they are often the wolves most likely to be killed or injured during natural intergroup conflicts. However, the frequency of these conflicts can vary dramatically with foraging variations; thus, the conflicts constitute a much less significant source of mortality in some large areas than in others.
Among Wolves: Gordon Haber's Insights into Alaska's Most Misunderstood Animal Page 20