ECOS 30(3/4) 2009 Editorial
A house without foundations Recent Field Studies Council research suggests that most children leave primary school knowing few of the organisms around them, particularly plants. Later, at Alevel, few biology students can name more than three common wild flowers, and a third of their teachers know fewer than four. An ability to name things is of little interest, and is thought unimportant: it’s “a job for specialists” according to Anne Bebbington in the Journal of Biological Education 39(2) 62-67, 2005. Unfortunately, such specialists are now in short supply. Identification and taxonomy are both shunned by students, and nearly everybody else. ‘Biodiversity’ is a favourite word; but how many of us can make a meaningful count of it, except the furred and feathered, the conspicuously floral, some trees, and our handful of butterflies? How about the 5,000 British hymenoptera, or 800 bryophytes? What is true of professionals and academics applies also to amateur naturalists. We should be worried by that. We should also be worried by this. A scientific understanding is a necessity for conservation in practice. Jill Sutcliffe sketches the history of the relationship with ecology in this issue. You might think studying ecology would be increasingly popular. Far from it: while ‘eco-’ has been attached to the vocabulary of washingup and shopping-bags, ‘ecology’ itself is being put into the store cupboard. Young children certainly learn the words, but their ecological understanding looks quite inadequate to let them appreciate their impact on their world, let alone help them live lightly in it. At A-level, Karen Devine tells us, biology students find ecology the least important topic. In the universities, ecology is often a shadow – definitely not the ‘must take’ subject many greens used to predict. Taxonomy; ecology: anything else?... You might expect a queue of botanists for careers in conservation, protection and restoration work, and in such things as biofuel research and the doubling of world food-production, but numbers have crashed. Only two UK university plant science departments survive. Though many places offer plant science degrees, courses, or modules, plants are neither cuddly nor sexy enough (or botany not lucrative enough?) to attract more than a dribble of students. This is Clare O’Reilly’s sorry news. The story repeats for entomology, mycology, and doubtless other ologies. But take heart: people still find their way into the real world of nature conservation. Two describe their travels in this issue. Andrea Gear enthuses about her route to the Mauritius kestrel, and Ruth Boogert shows it’s possible to break out of a ‘normal’ life, and take a career change into conservation, while making a short sacrifice when retraining. Both exemplify the fundamental importance of mixing skill and expertise with energy and a belief in what they are doing.
Martin Spray 1