Category Archives: Die-offs

Fairy wasps unleashed to protect Eucalypts

By John Upton

Eucalyptus trees are the scraggly kings of Australian landscapes, growing hard and fast, resilient to fire and sundry other stresses. After their crowned heads were plucked from native wildlands and thrust into monoculture plantations in continents far afield, though, pests began sucking the antipodean puissance out of the botanical emperors.

Cue scientific tinkling and hopes for a tiny-winged salvation.

A healthy Eucalyptus plantation in Hawaii. Photo by Forest and Kim Starr.
A healthy Eucalyptus plantation in Hawaii. Photo by Forest and Kim Starr.

Natural forests and other ecosystems are being cleared the world over to make space for Eucalyptus plantations. They sprawl over millions of acres, from the American Southeast to Africa to New Zealand.

The trees are largely being grown to be pulped for paper and, more recently, to be burned to produce energy. Sometimes they’re just planted along paths and roads and as forests because they’re easy to grow, and they look nice.

Amid this upheaval, a biological chink has been gouged from the trees’ armors of hitherto resilience. Across the globe, Eucalypts in plantations and neighborhoods alike are being attacked by tiny sap-sucking bugs.

The culprits are called bronze bugs — because their victims’ hues change from green to bronze as their leaves dry out. As the sap is sucked from the trees, their growth is crippled. The heaviest of attacks can leave the trees dead.

Bronze bugs
Bronze bugs on a Eucalyptus leaf. Photo by Simon Lawson.

To protect hulking gum tree plantations from bronze bugs, scientists are starting to release even tinier critters. Their newest weapon is a species so small that it lays its eggs inside the eggs of the marauding pests, which hatch to feast on the meat of an egg that was laid for another, killing the unborn.

Eucalyptus trees, the bronze bugs that steal their sap, and the fairy wasps that hijack the bronze bugs’ eggs are all Australian natives. But until the turn of the century, few people had given the bronze bugs any thought. That’s when they started attacking trees in Sydney — possibly infesting tree species that had been transplanted outside their native ranges.

“There were very few records of it until it started outbreaking in Sydney in the early 2000s,” said Simon Lawson, a University of the Sunshine Coast entomologist who studies Eucalyptus pests.

From Sydney, the bronze bugs spread, hitchhiking with world trade to South America and South Africa, where the invasive populations made themselves at home amid their native prey. More recently, they’ve have been spreading through Europe and the Middle East. They’re also in New Zealand.

A fairy fly
A fairy fly. Illustrated by Perry Shirley.

The bronze bug outbreaks have coincided with a substantial rise since the 1990s in the spread of exotic pests in general — and, more recently, with a rise in the spread of Eucalyptus pests.

“Just in the last ten to 15 years or so, there’s been a real increase in the number of Australian-origin Eucalyptus insects that have been moving around the world into Eucalyptus plantations,” Lawson said.

To try to relieve the problem, Lawson and other researchers across the planet are turning to the pests’ natural predators. The main predator tested in laboratories and dispatched in the wild so far has been Cleruchoides noackae. C. noackae are from a family of wasp and ant relatives called fairyflies — or fairy wasps. As the name suggests, the family includes some of the tiniest insects ever discovered.

C. noackae
C. noackae. Photo by Samantha Bush, University of Pretoria.

Fairy wasps are often used as biological controls — as sentient insecticides.  They’re all parasitoids. That’s similar to a parasite, but dialed to a different equilibrium: parasites generally let their hosts live; parasitoids do not.

Following quarantine and tests that convinced them C. noackae was safe for native bugs, Brazilian agriculture officials released swarms of  them in the state of Minas Gerais in 2011. Two years later, field research found that about half the bronze bug eggs in local Eucalyptus plantations had been parasitized by the fairy wasps.

The results, which will be detailed in an upcoming scientific paper that’s still being finalized by Brazilian agriculture officials, are “quite a bit better than what we’ve seen in the native populations in Sydney that they’re derived from,” Lawson said.

Similar releases are planned or already underway in other South American countries and in South Africa.

Cracking the bronze bug problem, which was set off when Eucalypts were introduced to exotic environments, might mean doubling down on the number of species that are introduced to patch the problem over.

Ongoing research to identify alternative biological control agents, such as other species of fairy wasps, will also be critical for controlling the pests, Lawson said. “You’re better off having more than one agent.”

Bronze bug eggs on an infested leaf. Photo by Simon Lawson.
Bronze bug eggs on an infested leaf. Photo by Simon Lawson.

Stopping starfish virus ‘almost impossible’

By John Upton

Nearly 18 months into the worst marine epizootic that humanity has ever seen, scientists appear to have found the cause of death. A virus is being blamed for the mass die-off of starfish along North America’s western coastline. Sickened sea stars grow lethargic and their limbs start to curl. Next comes lesions and the shedding of limbs. The body deflates, then melts into puddles of slime and bone-like ossicles. More than a million starfish, coming from at least 20 species, have succumbed. Some local populations of the keystone predators, whose hunting prowess keep populations of plant grazers in check, have been decimated.

Hopes that the new diagnosis will usher forward a cure, however, are about as low as the deep-sea habitat of a brisingida.

Research described Sunday in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences blames the heretofore mysterious deaths on a densovirus — a type of virus that typically plagues crabs, shrimp and other invertebrates. The scientists gave the pathogen the name ‘sea star-associated densovirus,’ or SSaDV.

Illustrated by Perry Shirley.
Illustrated by Perry Shirley.

The scientists discovered that loads of the densovirus were higher in sick starfish collected from the wild than in asymptomatic specimens. They also found that exposing lab starfish to the germ “consistently” induced the hallmark symptoms of sea-star wasting disease, while exposing specimens to heat-killed viruses remained healthy.

When the scientists turned their attention to ethanol-preserved sea stars collected as early as 1923, they discovered that the disease has been infecting starfish since at least 1942.

So why would it suddenly turn into such an ecosystem-rattling problem?

That’s just how viruses roll.

“This is the case for many viruses, including HIV and Ebola, which were present in populations since at least the 1930s but only became epidemics in the 1970s and 80s,” said Ian Hewson, an associate professor in Cornell University’s microbiology department, the leader of the recent research.

Perhaps the virus chanced upon a powerful genetic mutation. An improvement to the way it builds capsids, which are shells that protect viruses during their extracellular ventures, might explain its virulence boost.

Perhaps the manifest changes underway in the ocean, where pollution, carbon dioxide and heat are piling up, has weakened the victims’ natural defenses.

The scientists can’t say, yet, which of these factors is to blame. But they do note that large populations of starfish jammed into small habitats appear to be more vulnerable to outbreaks.

They point to a booming sunflower seastar population prior to the first large outbreak.

“We speculate that the current disease event has been exacerbated by an overpopulation of adult sea stars in the Salish Sea immediately prior to the current disease event,” Hewson said. “The Salish Sea was indeed the first population in which the disease was seen; it was noted in June 2013 on the Olympic coast. The first mass mortality occurred in the Vancouver region shortly thereafter.”

That suggests that preventing sea star populations from booming might help protect against future outbreaks. Given that it’s not clear why the Salish Sea population boomed, that’s a daunting task.

Assuming the scientists have accurately identified the cause of the wasting disease, how else could the discovery be used to squelch the current outbreak?

The answer to that question will not fill you with joy.

Infected mottled stars from Washington. Photo by Ian Hewson.
Infected mottled stars from Washington. Photo by Ian Hewson.

“Protecting sea stars in nature from an established pathogen, like the virus seen here, is almost impossible,” Hewson said.

Because the virus is so geographically widespread, Hewson said it would be unfeasible and impractical to remove and protect healthy sea stars. “Likewise, inoculating stars against the virus to build resistance would also not be feasible on a large scale,” he said.

Still, the benefits of finally finding the cause of the disease shouldn’t be understated. “The identification of the causative agent of sea star wasting disease enables accurate diagnosis and more effective management,” said University of Washington professor Carolyn Friedman, one of the new study’s coauthors.

For cheerier sea star times, let’s all tune out of reality for just a moment, and tune into the uninfected antics of Patrick — SpongeBob SquarePants’s friend .

Conservation biology, meet the digital age

By John Upton

Strap a two-kilogram tracking device to a 40-gram wood thrush and watch where it flies. Absolutely nowhere. If researchers had tried to track the migratory patterns of Washington D.C.’s official bird in 1994 using Lotek Engineering’s then-state-of-the-art GPS_1000 animal tracker, that’s what would have happened.

Fast forward past 20 of the birds’ international migrations.

Newer iterations of the same company’s GPS tracking devices, each weighing 2 grams, were attached this summer to the backs of 125 wood thrushes. The birds are migrating to Central America, obliviously recording location data that scientists aim to retrieve and put to use in understanding why their populations are declining.

Illustrated by Perry Shirley
Illustrated by Perry Shirley

Technological marvels of the modern age, including miniaturized microchips and batteries, improved GPS devices, and Big Data are arming conservation biologists with powerful new tracking tools. The progress could barely have come at a more felicitous time, with modern life’s hazardous side effects thrusting countless wildlife populations into little-understood nosedives.

“We don’t know where most animals go,” said Peter Marra, head of the Smithsonian Migratory Bird Center, which is involved with the wood thrush tracking study. “There are an infinite number of questions that we can ask once we can start tracking these animals throughout the year.”

To propel animal-tracking innovation, the Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute and Smithsonian National Zoological Park are teaming up with Airbus, Intel, United Airlines, and other corporate behemoths under an initiative they’re calling Partners in the Sky. It aims to shrink tracking devices to less than 1 gram; to track tagged animals using satellites and by fitting commercial planes with receivers; and to harness burgeoning computer power to understand and predict the migrations of elephants, whales, salamanders, and other animals.

“Our ultimate goal is to track any animal, anywhere in the world, throughout its life,” Marra said.

Where did all the bugs go?

By John Upton

Ever noticed that your car’s windshield is smattered with fewer bugs after long country drives than used to be the case? That’s good news for gas-station squeegee duties — but it’s foul news for the planet.

The world’s bug populations are crashing faster than a swarm of mosquitoes into a backwater bug zapper. And that has reverberating yet little-understood consequences for the species and ecosystems that rely on insects for food, pollination, pest control, nutrient cycling, and decomposition.

A Science paper dealing with the planet’s sixth great extinction, underway since 1500, warns that invertebrate species are faring even worse than vertebrates. Two-thirds of monitored bug populations have declined by an average of 45 percent. Their habitat is being destroyed, and they are being drenched with agricultural insecticides.

The July 25 paper was penned by an international team of researchers led by Stanford University’s Rodolfo Dirzo following an exhaustive literature review. The following chart from the paper shows the  percentage of species of insects in the orders ColeopteraHymenopteraLepidoptera, and Odonata that have declined by as much as 40 percent (shown in dark red) during just the past four decades.

bugs-declines-bThe next chart also includes data on Orthoptera, which includes grasshoppers and crickets.

bugs-declines-aVertebrate populations, meanwhile, have fallen by an average of a quarter, the researchers found. The largest of these species are faring the worst.

vertebrate-declines“In the past 500 years, humans have triggered a wave of extinction, threat, and local population declines that may be comparable in both rate and magnitude with the five previous mass extinctions of Earth’s history,” the researchers wrote in the paper. “This recent pulse of animal loss, hereafter referred to as the Anthropocene defaunation, is not only a conspicuous consequence of human impacts on the planet but also a primary driver of global environmental change in its own right.”

The problem of creepy-crawly declines could be worse than anybody realizes. Unlike charismatic mammals, very few invertebrate species, including lowly centipedes, slugs, spiders, and worms, come under the trained eyes of scientists or conservationists. Fewer than 1 percent of the 1.4 million described species of invertebrates have been assessed for threats by the International Union for Conservation of Nature, which maintains the Red List of Threatened Species. Of those few species that have been assessed, 40 percent were found to be threatened.

Lepidoptera, which includes butterflies, moths, and of course their caterpillar larval stages, are the best studied and monitored order of insects, and evidence suggests that their abundance has fallen by 35 percent worldwide. Lepidopteran species richness is nearly 8 times greater in undisturbed sites than in developed areas, and abundance appears to be 60 percent higher on average in near-pristine environments than elsewhere.

As bad as that might be, it appears that these plant-munchers, which metamorphose into nectar-sucking plant pollinators, are faring far better than lesser-studied orders of insects.

bugs-decline-c

Snails and their shell-less terrestrial gastropod mollusk cousins, the slugs, by sticky contrast, are among the least-well studied. These species may seem like mere pests to many gardeners, but they help break down organic material and they provide food for larger animals. Grasping how slug and snail populations are coping with the defaunation of the Anthropocene relies right now on little more than educated guesswork.

“We mentioned slugs as a point of reference regarding the fact that many groups of invertebrates have been very poorly studied in rigorous, quantitative ways and over long, consistent periods,” Dirzo told us.

Illustrated by Perry Shirley

“Given the fact that at least some species of terrestrial mollusks seem to do well in disturbed areas, I suspect several of them might not be so severely impacted and might be thriving,” Dirzo said. Then again, he added, “given their strong dependence on moist, relatively mild-to-cool habitats, climate disruption might have a strong, negative impact on them.”

Wolverine wipeout

By John Upton

A warming world means a melting cryosphere, which is bad news for species that have evolved to thrive on ice and in snow. Polar bears made depressing history in 2008 when they became the first species to be listed under the U.S. Endangered Species Act solely because of threats from climate change. These sea ice-dwelling carnivores had appeared poised, until Tuesday, to be joined in their global warming-induced regulatory infamy by snow-burrowing wolverines.

Wolverines resemble small bears with bushy tails. They are also known as mountain devils, gluttons, caracajou, and skunk bears. They are the largest member of Mustelidae — a carniverous family of mammals that includes otters, badgers, weasels, and ferrets.

Illustrated by Perry Shirley.
Illustrated by Perry Shirley.

While polar bears are a highly visible species, wolverines are enchantingly difficult to spot. This is despite their inhabitation of a broad swath of the Arctic that includes northern portions of Europe, Asia, and North America.  In North America, most the populations inhabit Canada and Alaska, although several hundred individuals are estimated to live in the contiguous U.S., mostly in the northern Rocky Mountains. These populations have recently been growing, yet fears over the future of snow in the Lower 48 had federal officials considering adding wolverines to the list of threatened species. On Tuesday, the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service ruled against the proposed wolverine listing.

Wolverines breed more slowly than most mammals, making them especially vulnerable to breeding disruptions. Once a female reaches the age of three, she normally becomes pregnant every year — but most pregnancies are strategically aborted. That’s because it can take two years or more for the wolverine to forage enough carrion, fruits, and berries, and to hunt enough small animals and insects, to build up the energy reserves needed to raise a litter.

Once she is ready to rear a litter, the female adopts a very specific denning strategy — one that will make it difficult for the species to survive in the parts of its territories where snow becomes history. The wolverines dig their dens in deep snow, forming living spaces around logs and rocks that include tunnels, runways, and bedsites. There has never been a record of a wolverine denning in anything other than excavated snow. And whenever such a cave starts to melt, the wolverine mother abandons it.

“We have determined that habitat loss due to increasing temperatures and reduced late spring snowpack due to climate change is likely to have a significant negative population-level impact on wolverine populations in the contiguous United States,” U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service officials wrote in the proposal to list those populations as threatened.

“In the future, wolverine habitat is likely to be reduced to the point that the wolverine in the contiguous United States is in danger of extinction.”

At least one senior FWS official had been pushing the agency to reject the proposal, arguing that it relies too much on “speculation” about the future effects of climate change. The agency announced on Tuesday that scientists know “too little about the ecology of the wolverine” to list it as threatened or endangered at this time. The ruling “does not close door on this issue,” one official said.

It was this focus on uncertainties that was already making scientists who served on a panel that advised the government on the proposal hot under the collar.

“Myself and the other climate scientists on the panel are disappointed that they’re focusing on the uncertainty, and appear to be ignoring the aspects of science that are much more certain,” said Tim Link, a hydrology professor at the University of Idaho.

Wolverines and polar bears certainly aren’t the only species that will feel the heat as global temperatures rise. Dozens of species of coral might be added to the endangered species list because of the combined effects of disease, warming ocean temperatures, and ocean acidification. Like global warming, ocean acidification is caused by carbon dioxide pollution, which is produced by fossil fuel burning and by deforestation.

“From the history of the Endangered Species Act, if you look at the 1,500-plus species that have been listed, the overwhelming majority have not been listed because of climate change,” said Mike Senator, an attorney with the Defenders of Wildlife, which had been pressuring the government to list wolverines under the Act.

“It’s been the loss of habitat and other threats — but that’s not entirely surprising, given that climate change has been recognized as a relatively recent issue. We certainly expect that we’ll see more species listed, at least in part, because of climate change.”

Ocean reserves help with acidification

By John Upton

Our power plants and cars have pumped so much carbon dioxide into the atmosphere that the oceans are becoming more acidic. Something like a quarter of our carbon dioxide pollution dissolves into the seas, where it reacts with water:

CO2 (aq) + H2\leftrightarrow H2CO3 \leftrightarrow HCO3 + H+ \leftrightarrow CO32− + 2 H+

Those leftover hydrogen ions at the right of the equation add up. The hydrogen ion concentration at the surface of the world’s oceans has increased by 26 percent since pre-industrial times, leading to a pH decline of 0.1. That might not sound like much, but it has been enough to kill off billions of farmed shellfish and punch holes in the shells of wild sea snails.

Illustrated by Perry Shirley
Illustrated by Perry Shirley

Shellfish and corals are especially vulnerable to ocean acidification because they rely on calcium carbonate to make their shells and skeletons. Ocean acidification increases concentrations of bicarbonate ions while decreasing concentrations of carbonate ions — and these animals need calcium carbonate to produce their protective body parts.

Fish, meanwhile, are thought to be suffering neurological effects of acidifying oceans, while vast mats of algae are expected to flourish.

The good news is that populations of animals naturally adapt to changes in their environments — and evolutionary changes to help some species cope with ocean acidification are already underway. The bad news is that changes in oceanic pH levels might be happening too quickly for animals to adapt, threatening scores of marine species with extinction.

I asked Ryan Kelly, an assistant professor at the University of Washington’s School of Marine and Environmental Affairs, and a coauthor of a recent BioScience paper about acidification that I wrote about for Pacific Standard, whether we could do anything to help species accelerate the rate with which they evolve needed adaptations.

“‘Accelerating’ species’ evolutionary adaptations to acidification would mean either tweaking the heritability of traits — and it’s unclear whether this is desirable, or how to do it; or increasing the strength of selection — which would mean making the selective impacts of acidification worse than they already are,” Kelly said. “So I’m thinking that, in an evolutionary sense, you don’t want to accelerate adaptation.”

Is there anything that we can do?

“What you do want to do, in order to protect marine ecosystems as we know them, is to preserve the adaptive capacity of the species that make up those ecosystems. That means preserving the genetic diversity that exists within those species, so that when the selective pressures of acidification happen, there will be some variability in those species’ responses. When there’s no genetic diversity, you get no variability in response to selective pressure, and natural selection and evolution doesn’t really work.”

Which means that we need to expand and improve the globe’s network of marine reserves, banning fishing in some places, and giving species the best possible shot of surviving the storm of acidity that’s building around them.

“From a conservation perspective, measures that preserve existing genetic diversity safeguard the adaptive capacity of species and ecosystems. This means working to maintain large population sizes and not fragmenting habitats, which are common conservation measures.”

As U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry led workshops last month dealing with ocean acidification and other ocean health issues, President Barack Obama’s administration proposed sweeping expansions of marine reserves surrounding remote Pacific Ocean atolls. The move would limit fishing for tuna and other species, helping to protect top predators that are critical for ecosystem health, while also protecting smaller species that are killed as bycatch.

“This is an important step in trying to maintain the health of this region and, as a result, the surrounding areas in the Pacific,” said Lance Morgan, president of Marine Conservation Institute. “It will give us more resilience into the future. We’ll have to replicate this and do more work in other areas as well, but it is an important step.”

Meanwhile, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration is planning to expand the boundaries of Gulf of the Farallones National Marine Sanctuary and Cordell Bank National Marine Sanctuary, both of which lie off the West Coast, where strong upwelling leads to especially severe rates of ocean acidification. Meanwhile, Kiribati recently announced that it would close an area the size of California to fishing to help wildlife recover.

Ocean acidification is not a major consideration in the creation of marine reserves, but it’s a growing threat against which the reserves can help populations of wildlife evolve natural defenses.

Easter Bilby protects Australia’s outback

By John Upton

Some Australian kids don’t believe in the Easter Bunny.

The clutches of chocolate and colored eggs hidden in the yards and living rooms of environmentally-aware households Down Under are deposited, through orifice unknown, by the Easter Bilby.

Browse the easter sweets selection in just about any Australian store right now and you’ll find foil-wrapped chocolate icons of the adorable outback-dwelling marsupials.

Rabbits are ravenous, fast-breeding, and destructive pests in Australia, where they were introduced by hunters and graziers during the 19th Century. The bare rabbit-resembling bilby, on the other hand, is a native Australian species that’s vulnerable to extinction. Celebrating the Easter Bilby helps Australian kids learn about the ecological importance of native mammals — while avoiding the awkward passions for invasive counterparts that the Easter Bunny can imbue.

bilby
Illustrated by Perry Shirley.

The beauty of the bilby lies in its relationship with Australia’s fragile, old, and nutrient-poor land. It digs through arid and semi-arid soils, bioturbing them, improving water drainage and reducing flooding and erosion. The digging helps spread seeds. It creates microhabitats for bugs and fungi. It turns over soils and helps with nutrient cycling.

From the Mammal Review paper by P. A. Fleming et al.
Mammal Review

The effect of native Australian diggers, such as bilbies, echidnas, and wombats, is “increased plant vigour and resilience, increased biodiversity and consequently improved ecosystem functioning,” scientists wrote in a Mammal Review paper published last year.

But Australian ecosystems have been ravaged during the past two centuries by introduced species, including rabbits, pigs, and camels, and by land clearing. The native diggers are hunted by introduced cats and foxes. Those pressures have helped push half of the nation’s digging mammals toward extinction, the researchers concluded following an exhaustive review of scientific literature. “[T]he loss of digging mammals has contributed to the deterioration of ecosystems,” they wrote.

Rabbits dig as well — but they apparently do not dig deep enough to produce the same benefits as bilbies. Previous research has shown that digging bilbies foster 80 percent more seedlings than do digging rabbits.

“When bilbies, bandicoots, and bettongs dig for food, their diggings are deep, roughly-conical pits which penetrate deep into the soil layers,” Murdoch University wildlife biologist Trish Fleming, one of the coauthors of the Mammal Review paper, told Wonk on the Wildlife.

“Rabbits dig shallower pits, which disturb a large area of the top soil layers. This would expose the soil to drying out, which means it’s less suitable for soil microorganisms or for new seeds.”

Then there’s the wee issue of rabbit plagues. Looking out across an affected Australian farm, the land can appear as if it is moving.

“Rabbits feed on soft shoots of plants, and then will dig up any vegetation within reach, including the roots and bark off trees.  In plague numbers, they wipe out any living plant material.  There are expanses of productive lands which have never recovered from plagues of rabbits,” Fleming said.

So go and get stuffed with caramel, Easter Rabbit. Aussies don’t need your type sniffing about in their gardens.

Why don’t we measure biodiversity?

By John Upton

Vast resources are plowed into measuring the metrics associated with global warming. Calculations reveal that American and European greenhouse gas emissions are falling while China’s are rising, and that more carbon dioxide is being pumped out worldwide every year than had been the case the year before. We know that carbon dioxide levels passed a record-breaking 400 parts-per-million point in May, well above the preindustrial level of 280 ppm, before dipping in line with normal seasonal fluctuations — that knowledge is courtesy of air monitoring in Hawaii and the findings of ice-core studies. And gravity-measuring satellites are used to estimate the rate at which glaciers are melting — revealing that despite harboring just 1 percent of the world’s land ice, these thawing rivers of ice are responsible for 29 percent of the rise of sea levels.

The results of these measurements don’t just keep us awake at night. They help policy-makers target efforts to reduce emissions and to prepare communities for changes in the climate.

But what about biodiversity?

Although the world is rallying around efforts to come to terms with its climate problem (even if not enough is being done to actually solve that problem), it is failing to measure the alarming decline of biodiversity, which by one recent estimate has fallen 30 percent in 40 years. It is not investing the resources needed to track the genetic stockpile contained in the cells of plants, animals, mushrooms and other forms of life as forests are bulldozed, rivers are diverted and acidifying oceans are overfished.

Every time a species or a jungle is lost, and every time environmental tumult helps generalists (such as ring-billed gulls) outcompete specialists (such as piping plovers), the world loses some of its genetic code. That code is critically important. It can help an ecosystem weather changes in the, well, in the weather, which is happening now more than ever in human history. It can help sustain a myriad of complex food chains that underpin the very functioning of the natural world. And it can present humans with chemical compounds that prove useful as new drugs or foods.

If we are to get a handle on the specifics of the biodiversity crisis, which we must do if we are to effectively manage the problem, then more scientists need to be trained and employed and provided with the resources needed to advance their fields.

Aware of the problem of falling biodiversity, the United Nations last year formed the Intergovernmental Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Service. The group is structured a bit like the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Changeits primary function is to review, assess, synthesize and share information about biodiversity with policy makers.

Illustrated by Perry Shirley.
Illustrated by Perry Shirley.

The group held meetings in Malaysia this week to discuss two main topics: the measurement and assessment of genetic and biological resources; and the calculation of the value of key ecosystem services.

The conclusion: The world just isn’t doing enough to measure biodiversity.

“Of the estimated 10.8 million species on land and in the oceans, less than 2 million have been scientifically described,” IPBES chairman Zakri Abdul Hamid, science advisor to Malaysia’s prime minister, said in a statement published Wednesday at the end of the three days of talks. “If we don’t know what species there are out there, we don’t know what niche they fill in a healthy ecosystem or perhaps in remedying some human condition.” More from the statement:

Most world nations – unanimously committed to protecting biodiversity – nevertheless cannot measure and assess their genetic and biological resources, nor the value of key ecosystem services nature provides to them, international experts from 72 countries warned today.

In addition to taxonomists, nations lack economists able to put a value on the water purification, storm protection and other services of nature, which would inform trade-off choices in development planning. And fewer still deploy social scientists to estimate nature’s non-economic (e.g. cultural) values, or to find ways to effect needed changes in human attitudes and behaviour.

“There’s an old saying: We measure what we treasure. Unfortunately, though we profess to treasure biodiversity, most nations have yet to devote adequate resources to properly measure and assess it along with the value of ecosystem services,” Zakri said. “Correcting that is a priority assignment from the world community to IPBES.”

Research: Bat-killing fungus arrived from afar

By John Upton

A ripple of bat deaths has grown since 2006 to become millions of Chiroptera deep, stretching out from its New York epicenter into five Canadian provinces and west at least as far as Missouri. The latest state to be affected was Minnesota, where infected bats were discovered in two parks.

The dead bats were all members of species that hibernate — and they succumbed to white nose syndrome. The disease is caused by a fungus that eats away at their wings and faces.

Little brown bats are among the worst affected. These adorably tiny bats were common throughout Eastern America as little as a decade ago, sucking down mosquitoes and other pests during their nocturnal maunders. Now the species appears to be on the verge of being listed as federally endangered.

Illustrated by Perry Shirley.
Illustrated by Perry Shirley.

Mammals appear to have developed high body temperatures to help stave off infections of fungi. But hibernating bats have a chink in that armor: When they hibernate, their body temperatures plummet. And when most bats hibernate, they huddle together, which helps the fungal infection spread through the slumbering colony.

What caused this fast-moving fungus to suddenly begin attacking bats? Did it go rogue, evolving from a soil eater into a devourer of bat flesh? Or is it an invasive species that arrived from some far-flung place?

A pair of Wisconsin-based U.S. Forest Service scientists studied the DNA of the disease along with that of more than a dozen species of other fungi found growing in bat caves in the eastern U.S. What they found, first and foremost, was that the pathogen was not quite what everybody thought it was.

Scientists have called the disease Geomycetes destructans since it was identified in 2009. But the recent research, described in the journal Fungal Biology, indicates that the fungus is actually a member of the genus Pseudogymnoascus. Hence, it has been reclassified P. destructans.

Of the other species of Pseudogymnoascus fungi sampled in the studied hibernacula, the scientists reported that none were closely related to P. destructans. That’s significant, because it suggests that white-nose syndrome arrived in New York from some other part of the world, perhaps on the shoes of a traveler or shipped in as a few spores with freight.

Researcher Andrew Minnis said the study is part of a wider effort to find a way to protect bats from the fungus. “Once key elements of this [fungus] species’ biology, including mechanisms of pathogenicity, are identified, it will be possible to target them,” he said.

Once it was realized that many related fungi were present in bat caves, but weren’t killing bats, “thoughts arose that these species could be used for comparative purposes — to understand why P. destructans is different,” he said. Following the findings from this study, “further and more informed comparative work can now be performed.”

Confirmed and suspected white-nose syndrome cases. Map updated August, 2013 by the U.S. government.
Confirmed and suspected white-nose syndrome cases. Map updated August, 2013 by the U.S. government.

Dutch gulls eat their young on Sundays

By John Upton

The durations of days and years are calibrated by celestial turntables: The spinning of the Earth and its arcing around the sun. Humans and wildlife alike live out rituals according to daily and annual schedules.

But the seven-day week is a human construct. It’s an arbitrary chunk of time that cocoons timetables of work and rest, of television programming and soccer practice. Whenever you see wildlife falling into a weekly routine, you can be confident it’s the result of a human influence.

A weekly schedule plays out among European herring gulls and lesser black-backed gulls nesting in the dunes of the Dutch island of Texel. And it’s a macabre one.

Illustrated by Perry Shirley.
Illustrated by Perry Shirley.

A chick being reared in these dunes may dread Sunday more than a young atheist dreads their mandatory church outings. It’s on Sundays that adult gulls are most likely to cannibalize the young. Saturdays are also popular chick-eating days among the Texel gulls, though not to the same extent as is the case on Sundays.

Sometimes the gulls eat their own chicks — or their own eggs. But more often they steal the unattended young of other birds, in some instances to be shared with their own hungry broods.

That’s not the only weekly pattern that marine ornithologist Kees Camphuysen has discovered during his studies on the island. Chicks tend to grow in spurts during the week, then their growth slows down over the weekends.

The Royal Netherlands Institute for Sea Research scientist thinks he knows what’s going on. He contends that it’s the weekly patterns of the region’s beamtrawlers and shrimpers that are driving the hebdomadal trends.

“[A] very strong weekly pattern in fleet size occurred, with high numbers of boats at sea Monday through Thursday, a much reduced number (mostly homeward bound) on Friday, and near to nothing on Saturdays and Sundays,” he wrote in his Ph.D. thesis.

The Texel Dunes gulls feast on the by-caught scraps of the fishing fleet, trailing the boats to scavenge protein for themselves and for their growing chicks. But when this supply of human surplus dries up over the weekends, the chicks’ growth rates slow, and hunger can drive the birds to cannibalism.

“Only commercial fisheries have a periodicity that can explain the strong, cyclic synchronisation in chick growth,” Camphuysen wrote. “Chick cannibalism rates were a mirror image of the rhythmic cycle in growth increments.”

The following series of photographs was published in Camphuysen’s Ph.D. thesis, showing an attack on an unattended chick by a bird from a nearby nest. The attacking gull can be seen sharing the kill with its own chick. If you would prefer to not see an adorable lesser black-backed gull chick being pecked to death and gutted by its own kind, then stop scrolling now.

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