Stepping Up to Bat

Few animals are as emblematic of the Halloween season as bats are. Its not exactly clear why this should be so: they are, for the most part, inoffensive and reclusive, with no interest whatsoever in harming humans. But the distrust many people have for bats has resulted in many species of bats becoming very rare indeed, and one of the most endangered bats of all lives right here in the United States: the Florida bonneted bat.
Less than 500 Florida bonneted bats currently live in the southern regions of Florida, the only place in the world where the species is found. It is an unmistakable sight in the wild--it is North America's largest bat, sporting a wingspan of nearly two feet, and its ears are folded forward giving it a distinctive bonnet- or cowl-like appearance. These insect-eating bats are solitary, and roost primarily in rock crevices and tree holes. Unlike most bats, the Florida bonneted bat is capable of taking off from a flat surface.
While the Florida bonneted bat was probably never a common animal, its recent catastrophic decline is most likely due to the rapid urban development Florida--especially southern Florida-- has seen in recent decades. Its small range coincides with the cities of Miami and Fort Lauderdale, all of which rapidly expanded and urbanized during the 20th century. With the cities taking over the areas the bats needed to roost, the population plummeted to its present low number. It also didn't help that in 1992, Hurricane Andrew destroyed many of the remaining roost sites, but that, of course, was something humans had no control over.
Another problem the bonneted bat--and by extension, all bats--faces is pesticides. When Florida became a major exporter of citrus fruits, the pesticides sprayed on the orchards accumulated in the ecosystem and became toxic for insect-eating animals such as bats.
All is not lost, however. While not as numerous as bird enthusiasts, bat enthusiasts definitely exist and have made major contributions to the conservation of these animals. They erect bat boxes to give bats a place to roost for the day, and sometimes even allow bats to roost in their own houses. Even if you can't make a bat box, or don't want to, you can still also make a contribution by only buying pesticide-free produce, which is free of the chemicals that can harm bats.

A Florida bonneted bat, one of the rarest mammals in the world. We may not think we have much use for bats and other "scary" animals, but they are quite dependent on us for their own survival.

Mad Science, Bad Science

If you want to make an omelet, you have to break a few eggs. At least, that was the way biologists operated up until the mid-20th century. For most of the history of the scientific study of animals, the only way to get a good look at them was by studying dead specimens, and the only way to get those specimens was to kill them. Naturally, things are different nowadays. Biologists don't go around killing wild animals for research,  and DNA samples have replaced preserved specimens as a source of information. But is it ever acceptable to kill an animal--especially an endangered one--in the wild for the sake of science?

Earlier this month, ornithologist Chris Filardi became the center of controversy when he revealed that he had shot a Mustached Kingfisher, an extremely rare bird thought to have a population of less than 500. Flared claimed that by shooting the kingfisher, he will be providing the scientific community with information about it that would be otherwise unobtainable. Many of his fellow scientists are unconvinced. They point out that a lot more information relevant to the kingfisher's lifestyle could have been learned by observing it alive.

The Mustached Kingfisher has not been seen in the wild for more than 60 years, and none exist in captivity. To kill the first one seen in such a length of time, so the logic goes, is a massive waste of potential information that could be used to save the species. While Filardi has defended his actions, he may well have lost most of his support with the scientific community

A similar controversy surrounds the "scientific whaling" program in Japan. Officially named the Institute of Cetacean Research--which sounds very professional-- its official duty is to conduct sampling surveys of whale populations, with the meat supposedly being sold merely as a byproduct. But it is generally believed that little, if any, scientific value has arisen from this practice, and it is simply hunting in disguise. 

That said, there are times and places where killing specimens is preferred and even necessary. Most deep-sea animals, such as giant squid, cannot survive in captivity and must be preserved as dead specimens for study. But in these cases there is some clear scientific benefit to killing them, because it is essentially the only way to study them at all. With the kingfisher and the whales, on the other hand, alternatives exist. There is no need for scientists to kill their specimens unless it is absolutely necessary.

The Mustached Kingfisher has inadvertently become a poster child for the ethics of killing animals for science. With less than 500 in existence, every individual that dies pushes it closer to extinction. 

Eco-Tainment #6: Ferngully: The Last Rainforest

Well, there's no use putting it off. This Eco-tainment review was a long time coming. But first, some background. In the early 1990s, there was a big "environmentalism fad," just like the one in the late 60s and early 70s. A lot of environmental-themed TV shows and movies came out of this. Captain Planet, which I've looked at already, was one. Another was 20th Century Fox's animated movie FernGully: The Last Rainforest. Like most animated movies in the 1990s not made by Disney, FernGully was not very successful in theaters (though it did sell well enough on video to get a sequel, which I will NOT be reviewing). But how good is it as a work of environmental fiction?
The movie told the story of the titular FernGully, a rainforest near Mt. Warning, Australia that is inhabited by a community of fairies. One of these fairies is Crysta, the movie's protagonist. She is a bold, adventurous sort, prone to wandering off and getting herself into trouble. This happens when she encounters Zach, a young man working for a logging company. Fearing that Zach will destroy the rainforest, Crysta shrinks him down to the size of a fairy. In the meantime, however, the loggers have accidentally released Hexxus, a demon of pollution voiced by Tim Curry. Crystal and Zach must team up to stop him. Rounding out the cast is Batty, a comic-relief fruit bat voiced by the late Robin Williams.
While the animation in FernGully is beautiful and some of the songs--especially Tim Curry's delightfully evil "Toxic Love" and Robin William's insane "Batty Rap"--are catchy, its environmental message sadly falls flat. There are a couple of reasons for this. The biggest one is the character of Hexxus himself. By including a supernatural villain personifying environmental destruction, the movie inadvertently distances these problems from their actual, human, causes. In other words, it essentially attributes both pollution and conservation to magic.
In all fairness to FernGully, however, its creators showed an admirable willingness to put their money where their mouths were. A portion of the film's proceeds were donated to environmental funds, including Greenpeace and the Sierra Club. Out of all the works of environmental entertainment produced in the early 1990s, FernGully could perhaps be said to have had the most tangible impact on environmental protection in real life.

 FernGully: The Last Rainforest was a noble attempt to combine an engaging fantasy narrative with an environmental message. Unfortunately, the movie's good-versus-evil plot tends to dominate over its real life context.