The perilous state of Yellowstone's
grizzly-bear population highlights the need for solid science in
policy-making, argues Doug Honnold in this guest essay. Honnold,
managing attorney of the Earthjustice
Northern Rockies office, has been litigating public-interest
environmental cases for more than 20 years. Some of his successful
cases have led federal courts to reinstate the Clinton roadless
rule, overturn the Farm Bureau's efforts to have Yellowstone wolves
killed, and reject the government's grizzly bear recovery plan
because of its lack of habitat standards.
Our ability to protect and preserve wild
places like Yellowstone -- indeed, our ability to protect our
civilization -- turns in large part on our ability to understand the
amazingly complex biological and scientific dynamics at play. We
can't fight global warming or beat back avian flu or protect our
families from air pollution unless we understand the science behind
these issues and put it to use.
But as we've seen again and again through the
annals of history, powerful political forces use corrupted science
to support desired political results.
Witness the Bush administration's proposal to
remove the Yellowstone grizzly bear population from the list of
species protected under the Endangered Species Act. By the basic
standards of fundamental ecology, that should be a non-starter
because of the relatively small population size and the substantial
threats the bear faces.
Dr. Jesse Logan has helped bring to light one
significant threat to the Yellowstone grizzly. A scientist who has a
bug's eye view of the world -- an entomologist -- Logan turned 62
years old this year and retired from the research arm of the U.S.
Forest Service. He had worked 30 years as a research scientist and
entomology professor, studying the forests of the northern Rockies
and the insects they house, especially the small but mighty mountain
pine beetle. Strange things have been happening in our forests over
the past 10 years, and Logan has been at the scientific forefront in
describing what has been unfolding, analyzing its significance, and
projecting what the future will bring.
In the early 1990s, Logan and his
collaborators set up a research site in the White Cloud mountains
near Challis, Idaho, to monitor how climate change would affect
beetle activity in two different tree species in the forest,
lodgepole and whitebark pine. Historically, mountain pine beetle and
lodgepole pines evolved together, but mountain pine beetle had been
an infrequent visitor to whitebark pine habitat. So Logan set the
table to get at two urgent issues for our national forests: What
happens to beetle activity under warming conditions? And, will
beetles branch out and attack trees like whitebark that have
traditionally been safe from infestation?
These questions have profound implications for
Yellowstone's grizzlies. When whitebark pine-seed cones -- a key
source of grizzly food -- are abundant in the Yellowstone
backcountry, bear mortalities go down and the number of bear cubs
goes up. Conversely, when whitebark pine-cone production is reduced,
bear/human conflicts and bear deaths increase exponentially as bears
search more widely for food to survive, and cub production plummets
because female bears can't gain the fat reserves to produce cubs or
large litters.
During the last decade, the northern Rockies
have experienced higher than normal temperatures, almost certainly
triggered by human activity. According to Logan's research data,
accumulated by the summer of 2003, those warm temperatures led to a
significant mountain pine beetle infestation in lodgepole pine, and,
more ominously, to the beetles attacking and killing numerous
whitebark pines. Just a few degrees of increased temperature allows
the beetles to change from a maladaptive two-year reproductive cycle
to an adaptive one-year life cycle.
The implications of this work are staggering:
the western forests as we know them today will undergo radical
changes. As Logan wrote in one of his seminal papers, "We will
probably experience ecological catastrophes such as the loss of
high-elevation five-needle pines long before we are paddling sea
kayaks in Central Park."
Over the last five years, bark-beetle
infestations have intensified throughout the western forests. In
British Columbia, a massive, unprecedented bark-beetle infestation
is unfolding: about 25 million acres have been afflicted, more than
11 times the size of Yellowstone Park. In Yellowstone itself, an
estimated 9 percent of the whitebark pines -- 18,000 acres -- were
killed by the end of 2004 in this still ongoing epidemic. Foresters,
entomologists, and ecologists are worried. Very worried.
Using the best data available, Logan has
modeled what will happen to whitebark pine in the Yellowstone
ecosystem with just a few degrees of warmer weather. His most recent
work projects that in 20 to 30 years, "whitebark pine could
well be eliminated, along with the ecosystems it builds, as a
dominant force on the landscape."
We may already be seeing a reduction in the
bear population due to the loss of whitebark pine -- using what the
U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service calls the "best scientific"
method for estimating the Yellowstone grizzly-bear population, the
annual population estimate was only 350 bears in 2005, down from
nearly 600 bears in 2004.
How can the FWS justify its proposal to delist
Yellowstone grizzlies even as their population appears to be
declining and a major source of their food is under unprecedented
threat? Well, for starters, they rely on 10-year-old mountain pine
beetle data and ignore the most recent data. Then there is the
"out-of-sight, out-of-mind" defense: instead of counting
the number of whitebark pine killed in recent years, the government
studies the number of seed cones produced on living whitebark pine
trees. When a tree in their sample is killed, they just exclude it
from the study.
Making policy decisions based on this sort of
weak science has become all too common. A survey of FWS scientists
released in February 2005 illustrated how pervasive the suppression
and tainting of science has become. Remarkably, 414 scientists
responded to the survey, despite official direction not to do so.
The results were staggering: 42 percent of the scientists said they
could not openly express concerns about the needs of a species
outside the agency for "fear of retaliation"; 56 percent
reported cases where "commercial interests have inappropriately
induced the reversal or withdrawal of scientific conclusions or
decisions through political intervention"; and 71 percent said
that FWS cannot be trusted to protect endangered species.
Wrote one survey respondent, a scientist from
the Pacific region, "All we can do at the field level is ensure
that our administrative record is complete and hope we get sued by
an environmental or conservation organization."
Indeed, as Logan's warnings about the loss of
whitebark pine have so far fallen on deaf ears, it seems likely that
it will take an Earthjustice lawsuit to make FWS face the facts that
our forests and the grizzlies and other wildlife they support are
under threat and that we need a game plan for addressing that
challenge.
No amount of spin, political interference,
think-tank obfuscation, or ginned up "science on demand"
can keep bark beetles from increasing their reproductive rates in
response to rising temperatures. When people like Jesse Logan
dedicate their lives to developing science that is critical to the
debate about environmental health and public welfare, we need to
stand with them and ensure that their scientific work is put to good
use, not ignored or buried.