The Show Must Go On

Almost a decade ago, I wrote about two competing metaphors for prairie restoration. I suggested we view prairie restoration like the reconstruction of a city after a disaster rather than like the restoration of an historic building.  We need to concentrate on the roles and functions of prairie ecosystems rather than how closely a restored patch of prairie resembled what it used to be in the past.

Today, I’m hoping to stimulate conversation about the difficult decisions we face as we try to conserve prairies in the face of rapid climate change.  One conservation planning approach is to focus on conserving the stage, not the actors.  It advocates prioritization of sites with geophysical diversity because those abiotic conditions influence habitat heterogeneity, which supports biodiversity.  The hope is that we might be able to conserve “an abiotically diverse ‘stage’ upon which evolution will play out and support many actors (biodiversity).”

The varied topography and the habitat size and connectivity found in Flint Hills of Kansas makes it a ‘stage’ that can potentially sustain biodiversity – but only with thoughtful, persistent, and adaptive management.

I think the ‘conserve the stage’ approach has merit, but it’s just a first step, especially for prairie conservation.  We don’t just want to save the stage; we want to make sure the show goes on.  Thus, I present to you a long (and potentially ridiculous) metaphor for prairie conservation that builds upon the ‘conserve the stage’ approach.

Every actor in a theatrical production plays a role that helps tell a story.  Likewise, every species in a prairie plays a role that contributes to the overall functioning of the ecosystem.  In a healthy and resilient prairie, all the key roles in are filled. 

Fortunately, there is a lot of redundancy built into prairie communities.  We have lots of species that provide pollination, seed dispersal, nutrient cycling, and all the other essential functions that keep prairies going.  We have a big cast, or maybe a big actors’ union.

Today’s prairie ‘show’ already looks different than it did in the past.  Prairie landscapes are fragmented, invasive species have joined the cast, and the climate is changing.  Those and other factors mean that some actors who played key roles in the past are no longer part of the show, at least at some venues.  Other actors remain in the cast but don’t play their roles as effectively as they used to.  Despite those changes, there are still really good versions of the prairie show being presented on various stages, though the versions vary quite a bit from place to place.

To keep the show going, we, as producers and directors, have to be creative and adaptable.  We face really difficult decisions, especially when it comes to actors who aren’t well suited for their roles anymore.  Continuing to direct the show with those actors as the main focus can weaken the performance of others and drag the whole production down. 

Making changes to the cast of a show comes with a lot of risk, however.  We don’t have a lot of experience with that process and we’re likely to make mistakes. Fortunately, in most cases, there are existing cast members that have the potential to adapt their roles and take on new challenges.  With some guidance, those actors will find new ways to collaborate with each other and put on a show that might not be exactly the same as we’re used to but will still have a plot we can follow and enjoy.

More frequent and severe flooding is occurring as a result of climate change. That increased flooding will likely affect which plant and animal species will persist in low-lying prairies like this one. Can we predict those changes and help guide them in ways that don’t lead to reduced biodiversity?

If more drastic actions are needed, we might recognize that some actors are on their way out and start training understudies who can gradually take over roles as needed.  If necessary, we might decide to recruit actors that are playing diminished roles on other stages and bring them in to rejuvenate their careers in a more suitable situation.  Similarly, we might help some of our own long-term stars find new opportunities elsewhere, rather than just watching them slowly fade away. 

In some cases, the world around us might force major a rewriting of the show itself.  We might find ourselves directing a shrubland or woodland production rather than a prairie show.  That doesn’t mean the show will stop or become less important, but it will require a different approach, a significantly altered cast, and a lot of adaptation by all involved.  However, if we stick with the mantra of ‘The Show Must Go On’, we’ll need to figure out how to adjust on the fly and sustain as much biodiversity and ecological function as we can.

Ok, I have to break away from this tedious metaphor.  The real point here is that we can’t afford to be so invested in current or past versions of our prairies that we don’t allow them to adapt to changing conditions.  At the risk of sliding back into my metaphor, there are lots of old movies and plays that don’t hold up well today.  Jokes that used to be funny 20 or 30 years ago aren’t funny today.  Old references don’t land with new audiences.  In most cases, the basic stories themselves are still solid – they just need to be adapted for today’s world.  Prairies and their species also exist in a different world than they used to, and that world continues to change (very quickly) around them.

The resilience and function of prairies is highly dependent upon biodiversity, which depends upon habitat size and heterogeneity, along with other factors.  Maintaining high biodiversity in prairies that exist in fragmented landscapes comes with huge challenges, which are compounded by a rapidly changing climate.  Plant and animal communities aren’t the same as they were in the past and they’ll continue to change over the next few decades and beyond.  In fragmented landscapes, unless we take an active role, those alterations will largely take place in isolation, with limited opportunities for species to travel between one prairie fragment and another.  Even in landscapes with large contiguous grasslands, we’ll need to be very thoughtful about how we shepherd those prairie communities through the coming years.

These tent caterpillars probably aren’t causing serious impacts to this patch of wild plum, despite appearances. How will climate change, habitat fragmentation, and increased woody encroachment affect this insect species and its impacts on other species in the future? (This is just a random example – I’m not saying tent caterpillars are going to become a major problem!)

It’s really hard to look at the prairies we know best and imagine them with a different composition of species.  We’re used to measuring stewardship success by our ability to sustain the status quo.  Watching the population of a species diminish in size – or disappear entirely – feels like a major failure.  Most of us have also looked skeptically at any new species that show up in a prairie, worrying about potential negative impacts of that species on the existing community. 

I don’t have a lot of answers to the big questions we face.  I’m certainly not ready to lay out a plan or advocate for a particular approach to managing these changing prairies.  As I did in another recent post, I’m mainly trying to get some conversation going on this topic. 

The best I can do right now is offer a few ideas for discussion.  For example, I think we might be smart to reevaluate the way we look at our objectives for prairie management.  Instead of trying to maintain the current composition of plants and animals, maybe we should focus more on biodiversity and less on which particular species are present or abundant within those communities.  (That doesn’t mean we welcome invasive species, by the way.  Any species – plant, animal, or otherwise – that acts to reduce biodiversity is still a problem.)  

I also think we need more serious conversation about when to resist ‘state changes’ like the transition from grassland to shrubland and when to facilitate those transformations, while trying to preserve as much biodiversity and productivity as we can.  Again, I have little to offer in terms of specifics, but it seems clear that we’re not going to be able to stave off those state changes forever in at least some places.  Let’s start thinking about contingencies instead of just waiting for those sites to collapse.

There’s a lot of woody encroachment in this prairie. The number of trees in the surrounding landscape and a changing climate are both spurring that invasion. At what point does the fight against this kind of encroachment become fruitless? What do we do then?

Finally, it’s never been more important to find opportunities to enlarge and reconnect prairie fragments through prairie restoration.  The chances are slim that a small, isolated prairie fragment is going to adapt well to a rapidly changing world.  Growing the size of those fragments by restoring adjacent patches should be a top priority.  Can we find new approaches for creating those restoration opportunities in strategic locations? As we do that restoration work, we should also continue to test and discuss seed sourcing strategies, including the regional admixture approach, to see if we can further bolster the adaptive capacity of those small sites.

We’ll be figuring this out as we go, and we’ll surely screw some things up, but we can’t afford to just continue reacting.  At the very least, we need to be thinking ahead about the changes that are taking place and how those will affect prairies.  In some cases, we should probably be ‘acting ahead’ to guide state transitions, migration of species, or simply changes in species composition within individual prairie sites. 

What we can’t afford to do is live in the past.  We’re hurtling into the future whether we like it or not.  Let’s make sure we bring prairies along with us.

How Science Works and Why It Matters

As a scientist and science writer, I’m concerned about the way science is perceived by the public.  I think some big misunderstandings about how science works are creating distrust and dismissal of important scientific findings.  That’s a huge problem, and I’d like to try to help fix it.

Let’s start with this: Science is a process that helps us understand and explain the world around us.  That process relies on repeated observations and experiments that continuously change our understanding of how things work.

Scientists often come up with results that conflict with those of other scientists.  That doesn’t indicate that something is wrong; it’s exactly how science is supposed to work.  When scientists disagree about something, more scientists get involved and keep testing ideas until a consensus starts to emerge.  Even at that point, ideas continue to be tested, and either gain more acceptance (because of more supporting evidence) or weaken (because conflicting results are found).

There is no endpoint in science.  Instead, ideas move through various steps of acceptance, depending upon how much evidence is collected to support them.  You can read much more about how the process works here.

We are lucky to have easy access to immense amounts of information today.  However, it can be be very difficult to know which statements are supported by good science and which are just opinions amplified by people with an agenda and a prominent platform.  Today’s world, for example, still includes people who earnestly believe the earth is flat, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

Media coverage of science often increases confusion.  How many times have you heard or read a media story about how a particular substance either cures or causes cancer?  In most cases, the scientist being interviewed tries to explain that their work is just one step in a long process of evidence gathering and doesn’t prove anything by itself.  That scientist might as well be talking to an empty void.  The headline has already told the story and pundits are shaking their heads and complaining about how scientists can’t ever agree.  (Please see paragraph three above.)

Unfortunately, confusion about how science works means the public often doesn’t pay attention when scientists actually do agree on things.  Loud voices can easily sway public opinion on important topics because it’s hard to know who to believe.  Often, we believe those who say things we want to be true.

Let me ask you three questions:

Do you believe that childhood immunizations are safe and effective?

Do you believe that rapid climate change is occurring as a result of human activity?

Do you believe that food derived from products containing Genetically Modified Organisms (GMOs) is safe for human consumption?

The scientific community has clearly and strongly stated that the answer to all three of these questions should be yes.  Despite that, many people will answer yes to one or two of these questions, but not all three.  If you’re one of those people, I have another question for you.

If you trust the scientific community and the scientific process on one or two of these topics, why not on all of them?

This post is not about vaccines, global warming or GMOs.  I’m not trying to tell you what to think. Instead, I’m inviting you TO think.

If you’re a scientist, are you spending enough time thinking about how to talk to a public that is skeptical of science?  Being right isn’t enough when there are louder voices shouting that you’re wrong.  How do you expect the public to find the real story when your results are hidden in subscription-only journals and written in technical jargon-filled language?  What can you, personally, do to help others understand what science is, why it’s important, and what it can tell us?

If you’re someone who believes the science on some topics, but not others, are you comfortable with the reasons behind that?  Do you think science has been polluted by money and agendas, or do you think money and agendas are trying to discredit science?  Have you spent enough time reading articles that contradict your position and evaluating the credentials of those on each side?  Is it possible that long-held beliefs are preventing you from looking at evidence with clear eyes?

While individual scientists may have biases, the scientific process has no agenda other than discovery.  Scientists are strongly incentivized to go against the grain – both employers and journal publishers get most excited by research that contradicts mainstream ideas.  Because of that, ideas that gain overwhelming scientific consensus should be given extra credibility because they have withstood an onslaught of researchers trying to tear them down.

Can scientists be wrong?  Yes, of course – scientists are wrong all the time, and they argue back and forth in pursuit of knowledge.  That’s a good thing.  Saying that science is untrustworthy because not all scientists agree is like saying that we shouldn’t eat fruit because some of it isn’t ripe.

We desperately need credible science in order to survive and thrive on this earth.  Sustaining that credibility is the responsibility of both scientists and the public.  Scientists must provide accessible and clear information about what they’re learning, but the public also needs to be a receptive and discerning audience.

There is a torrent of news and data coming at us every day.  As you process that information, think like a scientist.  Question everything, including your own assumptions.  Form an opinion and then test it by looking for information that might disprove it.  Most importantly, even when you’re confident in your viewpoint, keep your mind open to new evidence and alternate perspectives.

Finally, remember that science is a continual and cumulative process.  Conflicting research results don’t indicate weakness, they drive scientists to keep looking for answers.  Science shouldn’t lose your trust when scientists disagree.  Instead, science should earn your trust when scientists reach consensus.

 

Special thanks to Anna Helzer for helpful feedback on this piece.