The State of Biodiversity in Great Britain (1/5)
With the world celebrating/commiserating International Biodiversity Day last week, the state of biodiversity globally is clearly a cause for concern, but just how bad has it become? And with Great Britain ranking in the bottom 12% of countries for the intactness of our ecosystems, just how bad is the situation here and what can we do about it?[1]
To answer this question, we have a rich body of scientific research to dig into. But before we get into the quantification of loss, answer me this - when was the last time you heard a nightingale sing to the evening sky? Have you ever heard one? I haven’t.
Although not considered at risk of extinction yet, we have lost a third of the UK’s hedgehog population since 2000. Source
What about the last time you saw the elegant white stork looking imperiously out from its nest atop a tree? Or heard a cuckoo make its onomatopoeic call? Or had your bedroom swarmed by bugs searching out your light? The last time you saw a hedgehog even?
If you’re anything like me, despite keeping a keen eye and ear out, these events are an increasingly rare treat and in the case of a nightingale, still a personal dream. This scarcity is a recent phenomenon, and in living memory these ordinary sightings have fallen off a cliff. Even in my brief 30 years on this planet, I can recall childhood car journeys with the windscreen splattered with bugs and regularly spotting hares in the fields near home. If you’re lucky enough to have an elderly person in your life, I implore you to ask them about their memories of cuckoos, turtle doves & nightingales – its highly likely that the soundtrack of their formative years included the delightful calls of these intelligent songbirds.
If we can notice a change from childhood to the present day, how would one of our ancestors view our ecology today? We can in part answer this question by exploring old wives tales, stories & songs passed down from generation to generation. In these cultural wells, we can tap into real experiences and inspiration born from an abundance of the natural world, now serving as a chilling reminder of our collective loss. For example;
Storks are officially extinct in the wild in the UK, but restoration efforts have seen some breeding pairs return.
Where do babies come from? Storks of course! (Once common and now extinct from the UK)
What creature impersonated Red Riding Hood’s grandmother? A wolf! (Also extinct from our isles)
And what about the speedy hare who lost the race in Aesop’s tale? (I’ve only seen a handful in the past 10 years and to no surprise; there are now fewer than 800,000 in the UK)
And on the 5th day of Christmas, a gift of 2 turtle doves would now be swiftly followed by a knock on the door from the environment agency, designating your house an SSSI (Site of Special Scientific Interest), given we only have 2,100 breeding pairs left.
Reminders of the tragic collapse of the natural world are littered across our cultural landscape, demonstrating not just Britain’s loss of wildlife, but the loss of something key to human culture & spirit – connection with nature.
“The UK has seen a staggering 69% reduction in bioabundance since 1970”
The loss we observe subjectively is overwhelmingly supported by research: the UK has seen a staggering 69% reduction in the bioabundance (population size) of mammals, birds, fish, amphibians & reptiles since 1970.[2] Bioabundance acts like a canary in the mine for extinction, with smaller populations less genetically resilient to disease, non-native competition and habitat loss. When the canary dies, extinctions follow. In Earth’s case, the canary is already dead and the air is getting thin. Extinctions are of course a part of evolution, but our best estimates suggest that since 1500, globally Earth’s extinction rate has been 1000 times faster than the usual ‘background’ / pre-human rate[3]. As a result, many scientists think that the Earth is now entering a 6th max extinction event, only this time its origin is human, leaving an indelible mark of destruction on the fossil record. From a historical perspective, this puts the impact of human civilisation in the same category as the 10km wide, Mesozoic era-ending, asteroid which hit Mexico 66 million years ago and wiped out 75% of all life, including the dinosaurs. [4]
What it all means?
The UK faces a crisis unlike any before, but it's not too late to act. Nature is surprisingly adaptable and can bounce back quickly. By giving our ecosystems a chance to heal, we can avert disaster. This means easing the constant strain we put on them and rewilding connected areas across the country.
The price tag? An estimated £6 billion a year. While that's a significant sum, consider this: it's half of what we spend annually on roads. Roads are vital, of course, but when it comes to return on investment, nature reigns supreme. Healthy ecosystems provide essential services: they pollinate our crops, enrich the soil they grow in, protect us from floods and droughts, clean our air and water, and connect us to the world around us.
We undervalue these services at our peril. The longer we neglect the natural world, the more expensive it will be to fix and the more permanent the damage.
[2] Source
[3] Source
[4] Source