Tag Archives: 1080

Dingoes On My Mind

I was feeling deeply blessed as Payi got me ready for ceremony. She helped me get rubbed up with red ochre, and she painted my face with the White-breasted Sea Eagle design using white ochre she had gathered just the day before. She painted bands of yellow ochre on my lower legs – they were dingo designs. After so many years of thinking and writing about dingoes, it was a particular thrill to know that I would be wearing their marks when I danced.

Deb with White Eagle face paint.
Deb with White Eagle face paint.

The opportunity to get back into Kurrindju Country was exhilarating. The northern dry season had turned crisp, and out in the hills and floodplains of this tropical region the silky oaks were flowering. It was a short distance from Darwin, but we saw Country that had been well burnt. The new grass and cycads were vivid, and a dingo stopped to look at us before ambling off into the bush.

I have worked with the Mak Mak mob, the White-breasted Sea Eagle clan, over many years. Payi’s mother was an inspiration – an immensely strong and knowledgeable woman. Payi, also known as Dr Linda Ford, follows in her mother’s footsteps with dignity, traditional knowledge, and a successful academic career. As part of her Australian Research Council grant she brought together people from about sixteen different clans, and several dance-ceremony traditions for three days of intense bonding, sharing, and teaching.

Payi describes her action-based cultural survival research this way: ‘Ceremonial performance is a socially powerful site of exchange, transmission and transformation of relationship to country, kin and identity. The project aims to extend the power of ceremony to benefit future generations of Indigenous people’s identity and Australia’s shared history.’

Belyuen men dancing wangga in Kurrindju Country
Belyuen men dancing wangga in Kurrindju Country

I will have more to say in a future essay about the gathering Payi organised. Just at the moment my thoughts have been brutally grabbed back to the world of man-made mass-death. For while we were celebrating cultural continuities, shared histories, multi-species communities, Country, and non-human kin, dingoes were once again being vilified, tortured, and degraded.

This latest program is a doozy, and as with so much that goes wrong in the mass-killing that lurks under the label ‘conservation’, the idea of the ‘pest’ was at the core. With the objective of killing goats on Pelorus Island in the Great Barrier Reef (Queensland), two desexed male dingoes have been taken to the island. According to the news report, two more will be brought in. The idea is that the island will be better off without introduced goats, and the expectation is that the dingoes will kill the goats. The dingoes can’t breed, and each one is fitted out with a large radio collar and a capsule of 1080 poison that can be released to kill the individual once the project is complete.

Dingo, Alexandre Roux (CC)
Dingo, Alexandre Roux (CC)

Rather than use methods that may reduce suffering, such as sharp-shooting, this program uses dingoes as human proxies, hoping they’ll do the killing. The Queensland RSPCA is concerned about the suffering of goats. Questions arise: will the dingoes actually kill the goats? Lyn Watson, a dingo expert, says they are likely to kill smaller animals first, and will not turn to goats until they reach a ‘starvation situation’. It seems probable that many goats will die very stressfully and painfully, but only after the dingoes have themselves become starved and stressed.

The ramifications of the cruelty of this program are so enormous that perhaps they haven’t fully been thought through. The 1080 poison causes terrible deaths. Once the humans have no more use for the dingoes, they are condemned to the very suffering the program purports to reduce.

One suggestion is that it is cheaper to get dingoes involved than to employ humans. Such a calculus of engineered and industrialised death is appalling. It gets worse. Dingoes are social animals. They live in family groups, and they find the meaning of their lives in the context of their family responsibilities. This is the context within which they fulfil their ecological functions. Desexed males do not constitute family groups. There is no way that they can live adequate social and ecological lives. The program condemns dingoes to anxiety and suffering in life, and terminates them with an appalling death.

Evelyn Downs Dingoes (Arian Wallach)
Evelyn Downs Dingoes (Arian Wallach)

And what about the humans in this story? To treat other living beings as objects, rather than as subjects in their own right, is to step into the domain of instrumental torture. This plan extends the human capacity to cause suffering, terror, misery, and industrialised death. It draws other creatures into human designs for mass-death, shifting the blood and suffering away from the humans. The unwanted goats are to be eliminated by proxies, purportedly for the good of the island. Those proxies, the dingoes, will then be eliminated by remote control when someone in an office somewhere triggers the 1080.

According to one report, this plan is suggested to be consistent with compassionate conservation. Let’s be clear that the program is riddled with hubris and hard-heartedness; there is no compassion, and there are no clean hands. Rather, there is the old divide and conquer mentality: identify the enemy, find an efficient solution, eliminate, terminate.

The news of this program is a timely reminder that colonisation is a multi-stranded endeavour that is worked out across human and nonhuman domains. Many current conservation schemes use industrialised killing to try to control wildlife populations, and in doing so they reproduce the same hubristic, hard-hearted determination to control the land through dispossession, appropriation, replacement and slaughter.

Use a ‘pest’ to take care of a ‘pest’ seems to be the superficial logic. It is a logic of violence and self-serving justification. It draws on the rationale of cost-benefit to avoid ethics, and it draws on a history of industrialised killing; it aims to expedite death. The logic has a certain seduction: I hate to see Country lose its flourishing abundance, and many invasives have devastating effects on diversity and abundance. I agree that we settler-descended people who have brought so much damage to these lands and waters have a duty to try to curtail the damage and to enhance Country’s capacity for resilience. At the same time, Frank Egler’s great comment comes to mind: ecosystems are not only more complex than we think, they’re more complex than we can think. The power of Country to find its own resilience is beyond human engineering. I am sure we can help, but it is the worst sort of folly to think we can engineer.

The great ethical disaster is to justify the suffering of others by reference to something that has been determined to be a ‘greater good’.

Industrialised killing is not the final story. It is contested by many settler-descended people and by many Aboriginal people. And while there is no consensus on how to care for Country that has been radically impacted by colonisation and ecocide, Land Rights offers a threshold across which old ways of living generously, and new ways of living carefully can connect.

Many years ago Bruce Rose (no relation) carried out research with Aboriginal people in Central Australia, asking about their views on feral animals. He found that the question was not so much where animals had come from, but how they had managed to fit in: ‘the worth of an animal lies in its ability to live and flourish in the environment, not in its claim to being an original component of the fauna’. He found that many Aboriginal people expressed the idea the Country itself shows who belongs and who doesn’t. He concluded that ‘ethics and value judgements which support playing favourites with some species over others’ do not fit easily into the views of Aboriginal Elders.

Cattle and Dingoes at Evelyn Downs (A. Wallach)
Cattle and Dingoes at Evelyn Downs (A. Wallach)

Country decides! A recent video made by Arian Wallach using critter cams in ‘rare and remote locations’ shows animals getting about at night in an area where they are protected from lethal controls. It is thrilling for the fact that the coming and going of a range of animals takes place without their having to adjust their activities to accommodate humans. These critter cam opportunities show what technology can do when it is not being driven by deathwork. Here we have the opportunity to see others in unguarded moments of their own lives. It may cause a whisper of embarrassment to realise how pervy it is to snoop on other creatures’ lives, but at the same time, animals are in general so wary of humans, and with such good reason, that it is only through technological mediation that we may ever be able to glimpse the beauty of their autonomous, unselfconscious living.

Among the many gifts that Aboriginal people bring to what Payi calls ‘Australia’s shared history’ is the knowledge of living with, and within, Country. This is knowledge that involves humans inhabiting webs of life as participants rather than as murderous controllers. The Pelorus Island debacle shows yet again how desperately we need such knowledge.

© Deborah Bird Rose, 2016

Resources:

To learn more about Mak Mak country, see the book we co-authored: Country of the Heart is published by Aboriginal Studies Press. Dr Linda Payi Ford’s brief summary of her research can be found on facebook (visit here).

Two articles on the Pelorus Island fiasco are particularly useful, one in the Conversation (read here), and one on ABC news (read here).

To learn more about Lyn Watson’s work with dingoes at the Sanctuary and Research Centre, visit the Foundation home page (here).

Bruce Rose’s study is called Land Management Issues: Attitudes and Perceptions Amongst Aboriginal People of Central Australia (Alice Springs: Central Land Council, 1995). I have written about this study, and about the control of ‘ferals’ more generally in my essay ‘Judas Work: Four Modes of Sorrow’ (read here).  To learn more about violent-care in conservation, see Thom van Dooren’s excellent article (read here)

Arian Wallach’s video is called ‘Dingo for Biodiversity Project 2016 Field Expedition’. It was published July 29, 2016 (view here).

It is widely accepted in the field of animal ethics that animals whose lives have been put to human uses deserve to live under conditions that offer quality of life commensurate with their needs as individuals and their nature as members of a species. This is well established in relation to zoo animals, for example.

Numerous essays on this site address pests, the suffering others, and ethics of care.

 

How To Love A “Pest”

I laughed when I read the Canberra Times headline ‘Liberals environment spokeswoman suggests eradication of native bird species’. It turns out that some of the spokeswoman’s constituents are annoyed by the migratory cuckoo known as the common koel (Eudynamys scolopacea), and because they’re annoyed they want something done. She herself referred to the birds as ‘imported pests’, and wanted them managed or eradicated.

Koel, wikimedia commons
Koel, wikimedia commons

Surely not, I thought! It is true that the call of the male koel is loud and insistent, but let’s be honest: homo sapiens is the only animal to have invented the two-stroke engine and used it to acoustically assault the suburbs. Mowers, whipper-snippers, angle-grinders, chain-saws and other DIY tools of destruction and construction out-perform koels all year round.

Actually, I like koels. I didn’t get to hear them arrive in Sydney this year, and I felt deprived. But like or dislike, can anyone seriously entertain the idea that just because something is annoying is ought to be gotten rid of?

The answer, unfortunately, is ‘yes’, as one quickly learns from a visit to the website of the Invasive Animals Cooperative Research Centre (CRC). CRC’s are a government initiative that links industry, universities, stakeholders, and others for the purpose of furthering knowledge and capacity on matters of national concern. The Invasive Animals CRC has as its focus vertebrates that are deemed to be invasive either because they are non-native or because they have become identified as a ‘pest’, or both. There we learn that ‘The Invasive Animals CRC creates new technologies and integrated strategies to reduce the impact of invasive animals on Australia’s economy, environment, and people’. Technologies, when we explore the term, turn out to be a range of methods involving both killing and genetic engineering to reduce or eliminate reproductive capacity.

One of the key terms is ‘pest’. Many thoughtful persons have noted that  once an animal is declared ‘pest’, or ‘vermin’, or even ‘invasive’, something happens within the sensibilities of many humans. As my friend Thom van Dooren discovered in his research on foxes and the penguin colony at Manly in Sydney, those animals deemed not to belong slip into a category of those whose ‘lives are not legitimate lives within the context of contemporary ecologies, and as such … their deaths are not only condoned (as they often are in legislation), but also in an important sense demanded for the sake of any genuine conservation’.

Killing for conservation is certainly problematic, and advocates of compassionate conservation argue that it is inherently wrong. But the problems with ‘pests’ go much deeper. To quote educational materials provided via the CRC website: ‘The word “pest” is used to describe an animal that causes serious damage to a valued resource. Such a pest may be destructive, a nuisance, noisy or simply not wanted.’ From this open-ended definition, decisions are made about which lives matter and which lives don’t.

The Invasive Animals CRC website gives you a link to feral.org.au, and there you really start to learn about the nitty-gritty of decision-making and killing. The PestSmart YouTube Channel offers short tutorials on all manner of killing. You can learn, for example, how to rip up rabbit warrens.

Rabbit Photo: Arian Wallach
Rabbit
Photo: Arian Wallach

What you don’t learn is just how dreadful this method is for the rabbits. My friend Freya Mathews, a leading environmental philosopher, encountered this method when she began investigating ways of removing rabbits from her bio-conservation property. In her words:

‘Ripping involves the mechanical destruction of warrens by large blades attached to a tractor. I had rejected ripping earlier on account of the impact of the heavy ripping vehicles on soil and vegetation, but now that the contractors were more or less insisting, I thought I had better investigate the effect of the procedure on rabbits themselves. To my horror I found that in the course of ripping, rabbits inside the warrens are themselves ripped – they are simply sliced up, with those that are not killed outright being left to die, buried alive with appalling injuries, all conveniently out of sight. I had been willing to kill rabbits for the sake of ecological restoration, but this was way too much – it was torture, brutal beyond imagining. Yet this is one of the standard methods of rabbit management, routinely practised across the country, prescribed in all the government literature and on all the official web sites.’

Other video tutorials show how to set mechanical injectors into bait so that target animals (foxes, dingoes) will be orally injected with 1080 or cyanide. You learn that injectors don’t replace trapping and aerial baiting, they are just one tool among many.

Dingo Photo: Arian Wallach
Dingo
Photo: Arian Wallach

You don’t learn that the World League for Protection of Animals has concluded that 1080 poison (sodium monofluoroacetate), which is banned in almost every country in the world, should also be banned in Australia ‘not only for its cruelty, but also because we simply do not know what might be long term effects of continually pouring substantial amounts of the poison into the environment’. 1080 is one of the main poisons used against dingoes, other canines and foxes, and is also used against rabbits and other herbivores. More specifically: ‘1080 poison is a slow killer. When ingested the animal suffers a prolonged and horrific death. … They may convulse and haemorrhage blood from ears, nose and mouth, respiratory muscles fail and they suffocate.’

As this group noted in an earlier publication, ‘aside from the physical pain endured over the many hours before death, the terror, fear and anxiety felt by these animals is unimaginable.’

Along with these and many more kill-focussed tutorials, feral.org offers educational materials for primary and secondary school teachers. You can download a PowerPoint for use in teaching children in years five and six. According to the site: ‘Pest Tales provides primary school teachers with a complete and up to date resource which highlights pest animal species in Australia, their impact and current ways of managing the damage they inflict on the environment, economy and people.’

I worked my way through the slides with mounting horror. The first question for the children to consider is: what is a pest? The first set of answers includes labels and photos: feral (photos of cat, goat, etc), exotic/introduced (cane toad, etc), invasive (fox, rabbits, horses), and pest (magpie, flying-foxes and possum). The definition of pest is ‘an animal detrimental to humans or human interests’, and the explanation of detriment is that ‘a pest is a matter of opinion’. If anyone was wondering where and how children learn human-centrism, this PowerPoint is a great resource. Within the parameters, human-centrism is unavoidable – if a pest is an animal detrimental to humans (actually, to be more objective, to some humans), then humans are the ones who  decide the animal is a pest.

It becomes clear just how impoverished this vision of animals and ecosystems really is when we stop to  consider the fact that there is no real engagement with population dynamics and Australian ecosystems.

Rabbits, wikimedia commons
Rabbits, wikimedia commons

It is difficult to imagine a more shallow approach to matters of life and death than to sidestep ethics and ecosystems, and portray complex issues as if they were opinions.

Another slide labelled ‘Run Rabbit Run’ lists all the methods that have been used to try to eradicate rabbits: poison baiting (ground and aerial), trapping, fencing, shooting, ferreting, hunting, snaring, scaring, release of predators such as foxes, fumigating warrens, ripping warrens, blasting warrens with explosives, disease – myxomatosis, disease – rabbit haemorrhagic disease, introduction of fleas to increase spread of disease. Please remember that this list of horrors  is being taught to young children.

Since none of these methods has actually been successful, and since no alternatives are offered, the future looks likely to be as steeped in suffering as has  the past. And what the children don’t learn is that the one predator that would have a good chance of keeping rabbits in check – the dingo – is itself considered a pest.

These websites and their ‘information’ offer evidence of the widespread, bureaucratised, tax-payer funded, university-based, industry-supported, socially sanctioned pursuit of killing as a way of inhabiting the land. The fact that the manufacturer of 1080, Animal Control Technologies (Australia) Pty Ltd, is a participant in the CRC is known as industry collaboration, and is therefore not seen as collusion. The killing is cloaked in the language of managerial efficiency, but the iconography tells the other story – of vilification, persecution, and justification.

Sign posted at Paroo-Darling National Park
Sign posted at Paroo-Darling National Park

At the end of the day there can be no doubt: frequently what passes for a job well done is actually another act of the most terrible cruelty in an on-going saga of death.

I keep coming back to the normalisation of all this death work, and to the mind-set that takes it for granted that if a non-human animal is annoying, ‘something’ should be done. To return to the koels in Canberra: the Liberals environmental spokeswomen was subjected to a fair bit of ridicule, but if we look at the issue from the viewpoints presented by the Invasive Animals CRC and its related websites, right was on her side. People were annoyed. The koels were doing it. They were, therefore,  pests (at least to some people). And as pests, they were a problem to be managed or eradicated.

An alternative to this mind-set is readily available.

It is not at all difficult to love the migratory koels. There comes a time when winter is on the way out, but spring hasn’t quite arrived. There are big winds, and often they are cold. In Sydney it feels like we will never warm up. And then – riding those huge winds, the koels arrive.

When I hear that call my heart lifts. A YouTube clip captures it nicely, and I love knowing that the name koel is onomatopoetic. This bird is readily identifiable and it tells a great story: the big air and ocean currents that govern the weather are shifting.

Approaching rain, outback Australia
Approaching rain, outback Australia

I remember the call from the Northern Territory which is where I first heard it. There, koels are also called rain birds, or storm birds, and they arrive in advance of the wet season. Their great travel path brings them from southeast Asia to Papua New Guinea and Australia where they breed and spend the summer before flying back in the autumn. The effort it takes to fly those great distances, coming with one set of winds and leaving when the winds shift again, shows us the absolute grace of nomadic mobility. The birds fit beautifully into the large circulations of life on earth.

I agree with my Aboriginal teachers – these birds bring good news. And the fact is, they leave. They have to leave if they are to come back again with more news. This is what they do – every year. The departure and the return are the rhythms of nomadic mobility, and in this time of rapid environmental change there is consolation in the fact that the winds and currents, and thus the koels, continue to live out their patterns and connections.

Blessed are those who arrive with good news, and blessed too is their departure.  May we all learn to say both ‘welcome’ and ‘fare thee well’.

© Deborah Bird Rose (2014)