Excerpt
Wolves and their canine descendants are among our oldest animal partners, and yet we continue to hunt and kill them out of irrational fears that blind us to their many benefits.
Taking
an even longer view of the human—wolf relationship, let’s remember that
this species came to us in friendship perhaps more than 30,000 years
ago, according to an emerging consensus among paleontologists.
Pre-agricultural people and wolves may have viewed each other warily at
first, but eventually an instinctive fear turned into acceptance and
then later into companionship.
Of
the 20 or so wild animals that humans have successfully domesticated
through the ages, wolves were first, by 30,000 years or more—and the
wolf is the only large predator ever successfully domesticated. Though
the other large predators, whether mountain lions or black bears,
generally don’t pose much of a threat to us either, the wolf is the only
one who became a companion. And while the wolf has survived through the
millennia, in a dramatically reduced range as a result of human
persecution, it has also offered an extraordinary array of benefits to
human society by submitting to domestication. At the top of every dog’s
genealogy chart is the wolf, and dogs have provided us with
companionship, security, labor, and enhanced success in agriculture
(guarding) and hunting (tracking and retrieving) over the millennia.
More than any other species, the wolf and the dog enabled us to make the
leap from tribal societies and prehistory to agriculture and the rise
of human civilization.
“Dogs
absolutely turned the tables,” Dr. Greger Larson, director of the
Palaeogenomics and Bio-Archaeology Research Network at the University of
Oxford told the BBC. “Without dogs, humans would still be
hunter-gatherers. Without that initial starting phase of dog
domestication, civilization just would not have been possible.”
The
story of a wolf suckling the abandoned brothers Romulus and Remus at
the creation of Rome may be allegorical, but wolves did forever change
the human story. Their domestication stands alongside language, fire,
and plant cultivation as one of the major innovations that most altered
the fortunes of humanity. “It’s hard to see how early herders would have
moved and protected and guarded their folks without domestic dogs being
in place, and one has to wonder whether agriculture would ever have
really made it as a viable alternative to hunting and gathering,” said
Peter Rowley-Conwy, a professor of archaeology at Durham University.
It’s no exaggeration to say that nearly all human exchange, from early
bartering to the on-line transactions in the information age, have
necessarily been built on the foundation stones of these developments.
The wolf and its descendants have been part of the humane economy longer
than any other species.
While
many Native American tribes revere wolves, and place them at the center
of their creation stories, many other Americans have succumbed to the
cartoonish “big bad wolf” narrative and done the opposite. Throughout
much of U.S. history, wolves have been ruthlessly persecuted. In his
1880 annual report, Yellowstone National Park Superintendent Philetus
Norris wrote that “the value of their [wolves and coyotes] hides and
their easy slaughter with strychnine-poisoned carcasses have nearly led
to their extermination.” Around the turn of the century, the federal
government hired professional hunters and trappers to amass a body count
of wolves, and state governments provided bounties on them. By the
early ’70s, just after the U.S. Congress enacted a comprehensive
Endangered Species Act to protect them and so many other imperiled
species, wolves were hanging on only in the northern reaches of
Minnesota—and at Isle Royale in Lake Superior.
Increasingly
wildlife science is revealing the critical part that wolves play in
maintaining robust ecosystems. Aldo Leopold, the father of modern-day
wildlife management, renounced his killing of wolves in his classic
book, A Sand County Almanac. He came to recognize, even in his
days as a young forester, that wolves were anything but pests. They were
critical actors in maintaining balance in ecosystems, and he saw the
harmful effects of their removal, by predator control programs, in
Arizona’s Kaibab National Forest.
In
their decades of work at Isle Royale, wildlife biologists John Vucetich
and Rolf Peterson have affirmed Leopold’s conclusion beyond all
argument by showing how wolves limit the growth of prey
populations—strengthening them by culling the weak, sick, or young, and
preventing their numbers from expanding to the point where they denude
the forest of saplings or strip bare the leaves of trees. Indeed, upon
their reintroduction to Yellowstone, wolves immediately went to work
reducing the high densities of elk and bison, forcing them to stop
overgrazing meadows and riparian areas. These effects are documented in a
popular video called “How Wolves Change Rivers,” based on a lecture by
journalist and environmental advocate George Monbiot. The video has
attracted more than 15 million views on YouTube.
The
effects of wolves on livestock are also overblown. Data from Michigan’s
Upper Peninsula and other parts of the country where wolves live show
that they are responsible for a very small amount of killing—between 0.1
and 0.6 percent of all livestock deaths in these areas. A 2014
Washington State University study, conducted over a 25-year period,
found that indiscriminate killing of wolves actually increases the
tendency of wolves to prey on livestock. The reason may be that sport
hunting and commercial trapping of wolves break up stable wolf packs,
creating a younger, less experienced population, inexperienced in
killing traditional prey and more likely to show opportunism and pick
off a sheep or calf. And of course, farmers who deploy guard dogs as a
highly successful strategy of protecting their flocks and herds from
predators can thank the wolf itself for that service.
In exaggerating the adverse impacts of wolves, the proponents of wolf killing underreport these good effects. Wolf predation helps maintain healthy deer populations, to the benefit of forestry, agriculture, and wildlife management. By killing sick deer, wolves can contain the spread of diseases that can be catastrophic for deer populations. And what automobile drivers haven’t been concerned, to one degree or another, by the possibility of colliding with a deer on the road? The insurer State Farm reports that there are roughly 1.2 million deer—vehicle collisions in the United States every year, causing some 200 human fatalities and about $4 billion in vehicle damage. Michigan typically accounts for about 50,000 of those collisions a year, with thousands of them in the Upper Peninsula. If the wolves maintained viable, healthy herds by taking mainly the young, weak, and sick deer, they might save tens of millions of dollars in repair and insurance costs, to say nothing of the incalculable benefits of preventing the loss of human life.
“Wolves
provide a firewall against new diseases in deer,” Rolf Peterson told a
Michigan Senate committee when the issue of wolf hunting was being
debated. “A very obvious example may be chronic wasting disease.”
Chronic wasting disease (CWD) is a brain disease, like Mad Cow Disease,
and it’s one of the major threats to deer populations, after it spread
from deer farms and captive hunting facilities to free-ranging deer
populations—another case of reckless trophy hunters visiting more
affliction upon wildlife. The Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources,
which says there are more than 400 deer farms in the state, notes that
the disease has been spreading in large portions of the southern part of
the state, since a major outbreak of the brain disorder in 2002.
“So
far CWD has not spread into areas inhabited by wolves, anywhere in the
United States,” Peterson said, “and the logical hypothesis is that
wolves simply cull out diseased animals.” The disease is an ugly and
nonselective way of reducing deer populations, and it creates a health
risk to people who eat deer meat since the disease can be transmitted to
people through its human variant, Creutzfeldt-Jacob Disease.
And
while the indirect economic benefits that wolves bring may provide
their greatest value, there are direct benefits, too. As with Isle
Royale, people also just love to see wolves; to hear wolves; and to
place themselves, even for a short while, in a wild place that harbors
wolves. Each year, thousands of wildlife watchers gaze at the world’s
most-viewed wolves in the Lamar Valley of Yellowstone, bringing in $35
million to the Yellowstone region annually. In the Great Lakes region,
the International Wolf Center in Ely, Minnesota, receives $3 million
each year from wolf watchers. With wolves now claiming a more permanent
place in the Great Lakes Region, we can expect tourism-related revenues
to increase in all of the states with wolves.
John
Vucetich is leery of invoking the practical, economic arguments about
wolves, though he readily acknowledges their validity. It’s just that he
believes the moral argument for protecting wolves is the most important
and compelling. He understands, however, that political decisions and
public policy more often turn on economics.
Ethics
and economics are bound together in our decision making, and it’s clear
that many politicians have it upside down when it comes to the economic
analysis associated with predators. It’s not a zero-sum game, where
more wolves mean fewer hunting licenses and increased cattle and sheep
losses. A more comprehensive, fact-based assessment of wolves shows
their multiplier effect—whether in a pure wilderness like Isle Royale or
in a landscape where forests, farms, and human settlements are
commingled.
“I
think there are several areas where wolves are already playing a role
in remaking the Upper Michigan ecosystem,” Peterson told lawmakers in
his testimony. “The total positive economic impact would be measured in
hundreds of millions of dollars.”
For
more than a century, we as a nation had our way with wolves, killing
them off throughout more than 95 percent of their historic range—leaving
a trail of broken bodies and shattered wolf families and a gaping hole
in our ecosystems. Like so many other forms of animal abuse, much of the
killing was driven by ignorance and misguided government action. That
decades-long scorched-earth policy of slaughtering wolves stands
alongside the massacre of bison as one of the most inhumane and
counterproductive chapters in the annals of American wildlife management
and agriculture.
For
too long, government policies toward wolves were driven by fairy tales
and irrational fears. When we see people reverting back to such
arguments, dusting them off for use on the floors of state legislatures
or in meetings of local cattlemen’s associations, it’s time for us to
call them as they are—false, groundless, and shameful. We know too much
now to let claims like these carry the day any longer.
We
cannot be Pollyannish when it comes to the occasional conflicts that
arise with wolves, but we need not be foolish or cruel in our responses
either. We must close the door on the era of indiscriminate killing and
deal with occasional conflicts primarily by nonlethal means, as part of a
multidimensional framework for management that takes reason and
predator ecology into account.
In
recent decades, we’ve tried to undo some of the damage: first, in the
’70s by protecting the small population of surviving wolves in Minnesota
and Michigan through the Endangered Species Act, then two decades ago
by reintroducing wolves to the Northern Rockies and the Southwest. These
toeholds have allowed wolves to reclaim lands lost to them generations
ago. The wolves have demonstrated enormous resiliency, but there’s no
need to continue to test that capacity. They’ve reclaimed forests in
Michigan, Minnesota, and Wisconsin, established packs in southern
Arizona and New Mexico, and now in northern California and throughout
much of Oregon and Washington. They’ve even wandered into northern
Arizona and Utah. Yet for all this progress, only 5,000 or so wolves
survive in the lower 48 states.
In
the last few years, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service removed federal
protections under the Endangered Species Act for wolves in a number of
states and turned over management to wildlife authorities there. Without
hesitating, these states authorized trophy hunters and trappers to kill
thousands of wolves, often with steel-jaw traps, wire snares, hounding,
and baiting. In Wisconsin, where the worst of the methods were
permitted, trappers and trophy hunters killed off 17 family units in
just three seasons, or a fifth of the state’s total wolf population.
The
courts have provided a check on recent abuses, repeatedly stepping in
to restore federal protections for wolves in Wyoming and the Great
Lakes. Congress overruled the courts in the Northern Rockies, and
Montana and Idaho treated that act as license to kill wolves in
appalling numbers. Thus far, the Humane Society of the United States and
others have blocked similar efforts in Congress to remove federal
protections for wolves in the Great Lakes and Wyoming. It’s the wrong
move not just as a matter of law, but also as a matter of ecology and
economics.
In
2015, more than dozens of world-renowned wildlife biologists and
scientists wrote to Congress, noting that “the gray wolf occupies a mere
fraction of its historic range.” “In recognition of the ecological
benefits wolves bring, millions of tourism dollars to local economies,
and abundant knowledge from scientific study,” they wrote, “we ask
Congress to act to conserve the species for future generations.”
Having
played a central role in protecting our parks and generating billions
of dollars in tourism, all while preserving the cultural and ecological
assets of our nation, government should now become an agent of the
humane economy, and the protection of wolves, grizzly bears, wolverines,
lynx, and other long-persecuted creatures presents the perfect
opportunity. We now know too much about wildlife science to continue our
old ways, and we have too much evidence of economic benefits to be in
denial any longer. If ecology and economics are not enough, we need only
look to the occupants of the dog beds in our homes, or the ones who
sleep in our beds. They’re not so fierce, but they’re dependent on us.
We can be good caretakers of them and their wild brethren and other wild
animals, who need little more from us than to stop killing them for
sport, bragging rights, or some irrational hatred.
Excerpted from The Humane Economy: How Innovators and Enlightened Consumers Are Transforming the Lives of Animals,
by Wayne Pacelle and The Humane Society of the United States, published
by William Morrow. Copyright © 2016 by Wayne Pacelle. All rights
reserved.
As
president and CEO of The Humane Society of the United States, Wayne
Pacelle leads one of the world’s most effective animal-protection
organizations and one of the highest-impact nonprofit groups of any
kind. Placing emphasis on transforming public policies and corporate
behavior, he has been a primary strategist in securing the enactment of
hundreds of state and federal animal-protection laws and helped drive
reforms adopted by many of America’s biggest companies.
Pacelle is the author of The Humane Economy: How Innovators and Enlightened Consumers are Transforming the Lives of Animals and 2011’s New York Times bestseller The Bond: Our Kinship with Animals, Our Call to Defend Them. His blog, A Humane Nation, is published each weekday.
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Pacelle is the author of The Humane Economy: How Innovators and Enlightened Consumers are Transforming the Lives of Animals and 2011’s New York Times bestseller The Bond: Our Kinship with Animals, Our Call to Defend Them. His blog, A Humane Nation, is published each weekday.
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