Australia’s furry little beast could be the perfect symbol

Australia’s furry little beast could be the perfect symbol

Photo by Enrico Carcasci on Unsplash

Originally published 4 January 1993

News from Down Under: Koalas are under siege.

The cud­dly sym­bol of Aus­tralia, every­body’s favorite ani­mal, is a rare and vul­ner­a­ble species in the state of New South Wales, and is hold­ing its own only in the state of Vic­to­ria. Unless envi­ron­men­tal­ists act to save the koala, it could fol­low the moa and the dodo into oblivion.

The koala’s plight could be just the thing wildlife advo­ca­cy groups have been wait­ing for. It is hard to gen­er­ate much emo­tion about the endan­gered sta­tus of snail darters and spot­ted owls. But koalas! Those lov­able ted­dy bears of the euca­lypts. Those sweet-tem­pered, saucer-eyed, snug­ly mar­su­pi­als. Koalas are ani­mals we care about.

Save the koala” has a ring to it. It makes a more effec­tive ral­ly­ing call than “Save Bar­bour’s map tur­tle.” I can see the plain­tive eyes of baby koalas peer­ing out from their mamas’ pouch­es on posters, t‑shirts, cof­fee mugs, and let­ter­heads of wildlife orga­ni­za­tions. It’s a hard-heart­ed per­son who will not feel sad if the koala becomes extinct.

In his won­der­ful new book The Diver­si­ty of Life, Har­vard Uni­ver­si­ty’s Edward O. Wil­son gives rea­sons why we should care about the extinc­tion of species (I have tak­en the lib­er­ty of nam­ing his arguments):

  1. The Undis­cov­ered Rich­es argu­ment. Says Wil­son: “A rare bee­tle sit­ting on an orchid in a remote val­ley of the Andes might secrete a sub­stance that cures pan­cre­at­ic cancer.”

Well, yes it might, but that won’t slow down the lum­ber barons or min­ing inter­ests who wish to rav­age that Andean val­ley. Besides, say envi­ron­men­tal despoil­ers, chemists will soon be able to syn­the­size any drug we want from chem­i­cals already on lab­o­ra­to­ry shelves.

  1. The Moth­er Earth argu­ment. The diver­si­ty of life helps main­tain the soils we plant, the air we breathe, and the cli­mate. The envi­ron­ment is a tan­gled web, and we can­not change one part with­out effect­ing every oth­er part. Says Wil­son: “To dis­re­gard the diver­si­ty of life is to risk cat­a­pult­ing our­selves into an alien environment.”

To which despoil­ers will respond: Tech­no­log­i­cal devel­op­ment is the most pow­er­ful force at work in the world today, more pow­er­ful even than the forces of nature; if nec­es­sary, we will learn how to farm with arti­fi­cial fer­til­iz­ers, adjust the com­po­si­tion of the atmos­phere, and con­trol the weather.

Wil­son is a real­ist. He knows that the Undis­cov­ered Rich­es and Moth­er Earth argu­ments will not pre­serve bio­di­ver­si­ty if there is a quick buck to be made by elim­i­nat­ing species. So he offers:

  1. The We Are the Earth argu­ment. Human­i­ty is a part of nature, a species that evolved among oth­er species; the more close­ly we iden­ti­fy our­selves with the rest of life, the bet­ter we will know who we are and what we want to be.

If the Undis­cov­ered Rich­es and Moth­er Earth argu­ments can­not fore­stall the extinc­tion of species, then the We Are the Earth argu­ment is hope­less. Wil­son is talk­ing about an eth­i­cal deci­sion, based on a view of what it means to be human. It all comes down to a choice between life — includ­ing snail darters and spot­ted owls — and money.

It so hap­pens that I agree with Wilson’s eth­ic, which he calls bio­phil­ia, or love of life. But I don’t think for a minute that his three argu­ments for pre­serv­ing bio­di­ver­si­ty will save any­thing. As the Mex­i­can truck dri­ver who shot one of the last two impe­r­i­al wood­peck­ers, largest of all the world’s wood­peck­ers, said, “It was a great piece of meat.”

For most of our species, a bird in the mouth is worth two in the bush.

So what should bio­philists do to advance their eth­i­cal cause?

Well, we can use the koala.

Koala num­bers took a nose­dive in the ear­ly part of the 20th cen­tu­ry when mil­lions of the ani­mals were shot for their pelts. They were dri­ven to extinc­tion in the state of South Aus­tralia. Today there may be less than 100,000 koalas in all of Aus­tralia, a tiny frac­tion of their orig­i­nal num­bers. Human set­tle­ment has destroyed 80 per­cent of their orig­i­nal habitat.

Koalas are par­tic­u­lar­ly vul­ner­a­ble in their choice of diet. They rely almost exclu­sive­ly upon the leaves of euca­lyp­tus trees. Trees that grow in poor soil pro­duce tox­ins and foul-tastes in their leaves as a defense against koalas. Trees that grow in good soil are like­ly to be chopped down by farm­ers. Either way, the koala loses.

The koala’s prob­lems are our gain. Our fond­ness for the fur­ry lit­tle beast is a symp­tom of our bio­phil­ia, which Wil­son believes is innate, a part of our evo­lu­tion­ary inher­i­tance from a time when human exis­tence was bound up with the fab­ric of all life. If he is right — if indeed we are all bio­philists at heart — then even the greed­i­est among us will feel a twinge of guilt at the koala’s plight.

Guilt might be the only thing that will save the koala — and oth­er endan­gered species.

Share this Musing: