Hubbard Fellowship Blog – The Nature of Human Intervention

This post is written by Eric Chien, one of our Hubbard Fellows.  Eric has a solid background in land management and apparently thinks quite a bit while he’s doing stewardship work.  Here are some of his latest thoughts – I think you’ll find them thought-provoking.

What if I told you our most resilient prairies will likely experience burning, mowing, cutting, shredding, chemical spraying, and fencing for decades to come? Among splendidly diverse native wildflowers and grasses, and a rich assemblage of insects, birds, herps, and mammals, there will be the consistent imprints of boot tread in the soil. The sounds of wind-blown grass, and meadowlarks will be occasionally interrupted by the clamor of metal and engines. We will know resilience not only by the existence of a vibrant prairie pulsing with life, but also by the presence of a sturdy 4-strand barb wire fence, and a two-track road worn to mineral soil.

Managers know that maintaining the function and diversity of prairies is highly involved work. I think the image of that monumental work is viewed somewhat quizzically by much of the public that has not had an opportunity or guide to understand prairies. The notion of conservation as the process of removing human presence and intervention is still widely circulated. Once removed from the yoke of human imposition, the natural world is supposed to largely perpetuate itself; growing more abundant, diverse, and resilient in its respite. That is the idea at least. My experience on prairies tells me that conservation landscapes characterized by little human presence is a mold not applicable to prairies. It probably has not been for 150 years. Considering the long history of Native American land management, it may never have been. What’s more, the intensive management in prairie conservation is representative of what many of the world’s ecosystems will require to maintain their functions into the future. Decades of prairie management suggest that we consider ourselves and our presence not as obstacles or crutches to the diversity of life, but as integral drivers of the processes and forces that maintain integrity and functioning of ecosystems.

The author cuts down a cottonwood tree on the edge of one of our Platte River Prairies. Photo by Katharine Hogan.

On the prairie, we light the fires, control the grazers, and suppress the invasive plants. In doing so we drive species composition and distribution, habitat heterogeneity, and the presence or absence of ecosystem functions; the most fundamental ecological attributes. Our involvement is not out of hubris, nor does it make prairies an artifice. Science and experience tells us that without our involvement prairies nearly always slip into measurably degraded states, or entirely disappear. Chris has written thoroughly on the science and implications around the myth of the self-sustaining prairie and the reasons why management is necessary. Seeing our new role with clear eyes has important implications for our approach to conservation.

Rather than thinking of ourselves as prairie doctors, we should see ourselves as prairie organs. Organs are not optional, and cannot be removed from the whole when the budget it tight. When we set up prairie conservation complexes we need to consider humans with the same gravity we consider plant diversity. Whether it is land management professionals, volunteer cohorts, or farming and ranching families, thoughtful and capable human managers are as important as the native grass community.

People have been lighting North American prairies on fire since the last glaciers retreated and grasslands emerged as the dominant ecosystem in the Great Plains.

What does recognition of that human importance look like at The Nature Conservancy? Since 1994, standard operating procedure in TNC has mandated setting aside an endowment for every new land acquisition with the principal set at minimum 20% of the fair market value of the land. It is a small but key step in maintaining essential human capacity in our conservation lands. We also strive to recognize human importance by making our conservation work relevant to ranching families. The ecological and management knowledge we seek out strives to reconcile economic and conservation needs. The gold standard in our work are solutions that allow people and nature to thrive. This is not just because supporting human communities is important, but because prairies with deep human presence are healthy, resilient prairies.

If at this point you’re thinking- “This sounds like an overly involved prairie person issue.” I say this- Prairies are likely a vanguard for where many of our natural systems are headed. Our ability to find success as drivers of ecosystem integrity and resilience through active management have implications for the future integrity of countless ecosystem types. Resilience processes in forests, reefs, tundra, and countless other systems are being broken down by ongoing fragmentation, and novel disturbances. There is already a need for us to step in and play a key role in the ecology that reinforces the biodiversity, functions, and services those systems provide. That need is only growing. North American Prairies are a proving ground for our ability to do that effectively.

I hope you consider sharing your thoughts.

Photo of the Week – March 31, 2017

Prairie clover is a term that gets used pretty broadly among the public.  Ok, not necessarily the among the GENERAL public, but among people who have at least some idea what grasslands look like.  I’ve heard the term prairie clover applied to a number of different legume species, including sweet clover.  Botanically, prairie clover – as far as I know – refers only to plants in the genus Dalea, and including familiar species like purple prairie clover (Dalea purpurea) and white prairie clover (Dalea candida).

In Nebraska, we have eight species of prairie clover.  I finally saw large-spike prairie clover this past summer (though not in bloom), which means I’ve now seen all of them.  I’m still waiting for my certificate to arrive in the mail.  I’ve only been able to photograph five of the eight, but I’ll try to do better in the future.  Maybe I can earn the prairie clover photography patch someday.  (I’m just assuming that patch exists.  If it doesn’t, someone needs to answer for that.)

Purple prairie clover is well-known and well-distributed across Nebraska. It is a big favorite among bees, and while cattle will often eat it – especially under relatively high stocking rates – it survives periodic grazing very well in our prairies.

White prairie clover is also widespread across Nebraska and popular among pollinators. This one is hosting both a long-horned beetle and weevil.

While purple and white prairie clover are the best known of this group of wildflowers, the lesser known and more specialized prairie clovers are also worth seeing and learning about.  Golden dalea (Dalea aurea) has gorgeous yellow flowers, but you’re not likely to run across it unless you go searching for it in one of the scattered locations it occurs.  Hare’s foot dalea (Dalea leporina) is an annual prairie clover that is a real enigma to me, and I’ve only seen it in our restored prairies.  Silky prairie clover (Dalea villosa) might be my favorite of all.  It has beautiful long pale pink-lavender flowers and fuzzy sea-green leaves and is common throughout much of the Nebraska Sandhills, as well as other sandy places.

Golden dalea is a beautiful prairie clover found on prairie hillsides here and there around the state.

Hare’s-foot dalea, aka annual dalea, is not a showy prairie clover, but is still pretty. It comes and goes in our restored prairies, often responding positively during the recovery periods following bouts of fire and grazing.

Silky prairie clover has a subtle beauty that fits well in the sandy prairies it inhabits.

The remaining three species in Nebraska are large-spike prairie clover (Dalea cylindriceps), round-head prairie clover (Dalea multiflora), and nine-anther dalea (Dalea enneandra).  Round-head prairie clover just barely comes into the southern tier of Nebraska counties.  The other two are found in scattered locations around the state.

It would be hard to think of a group of wildflowers that contributes more to prairie communities than prairie clovers.  At least purple and white prairie clover provide very high quality forage for herbivores, including livestock.  Bees and other pollinators focus heavily on prairie clovers, and the pollen and nectar are abundant and easily accessible.  The seeds are big and nutritious, and eaten by birds, small mammals, and insects.  During drought years, purple and white prairie clover are among the wildflowers that are mostly still green and blooming, even when surrounded by brown crispy plants, so they keep contributing even in difficult times.  Oh, and of course, as legumes, prairie clovers are nitrogen fixers.  From a land manager’s standpoint, prairie clover is easy to harvest seed from, germinates easily in restored prairies, and survives well under our fire and grazing management here on the Platte River.

If you haven’t seen all the different prairie clovers in your area, I hope you get a chance to remedy that soon.  Personally, I can’t wait until summer wildflower season arrives so I can keep working toward earning that prairie clover photography patch.  Maybe I can talk my wife into knitting me a prairie clover-themed stocking cap to sew the patch onto!

(For you young people out there, a patch is a kind of decorative embroidered thingie folks used to sew onto their clothing to recognize an award or achievement, or to signify membership in a particular club or group.  Trust me, it was super cool.  Your friends would be impressed if you showed up to a party wearing one.)