Category: The Conversation

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Now that the Paris Olympics and Paralympics have disappeared from our screens, let’s get back to watching animal videos.

But seriously, have you ever paused to think about the athletic abilities of Australian wildlife?

In my research as an ecologist, I’m constantly amazed by the strength, speed and resilience of our native animals. Their prowess is testament to the wonders of evolution, and the necessity of species having to adapt to challenging and changing environments in order to survive.

Let’s take a closer look at some of our best competitors and how might they fare, against humans and overseas entrants. On your marks, get set… swim, hop, dig, dance, glide!

Swimming

Australians are renowned for being strong swimmers. But what is the fastest swimmer in the animal kingdom?

On this there is much debate. Some suggest it’s the Indo Pacific sailfish, clocking in at about 30km/hr. That’s impressive, but much slower than oft-cited (but inaccurate) claims it can travel at more than 100km/hr.

For perspective, the fastest human to swim the 50 metres freestyle is American Caeleb Dressel, completing this in a time of 20.16 seconds. That’s roughly 9km/h – faster than many people jog, but still no match for a sailfish.

As in humans, swimming speed in fishes tends to increase with body length. Larger species that challenge sailfish for the fastest swimmer title include blue or black marlin. Shorter, torpedo-like bluefin tuna are also in contention. All are found in Australian waters, though not exclusively.

Sprinting, long and high jump

Aussie icons, red kangaroos can reach speeds of around 60-70km/hr. But they are no match for cheetahs, which can move at more than 120km/hr.

Long jump is surely the kangaroo’s main event. Red kangaroos can jump a staggering 13 metres or more. Amazingly, this might not be enough to clinch gold. Snow leopards can jump more than 15 metres.

Kangaroos can clear heights of up to 3m, so would perform well in the high jump. But they’d finish behind bottlenose dolphins, which can jump over 7m in the air, just for kicks.

Scaled for body size, though, both species would be embarrassed by a tiny insect known as a froghopper. It jumps to heights of more than 140 times its body length.

Battles of strength

African elephants can lift more than 1,000kg and weaver ants more than 100 times their own body weight.

But relative to size, a truly impressive champion is Australia’s horned dung beetle. At just a centimetre long, these diminutive powerhouses can pull more than 1,100 times their own body weight, roughly equating to an average man lifting two fully-loaded 18-wheeler trucks.

And yet, horned dung beetles might still only claim silver. Another invertebrate Aussie, the tiny tropical moss mite, is perhaps the world’s strongest animal. It can pull more than 1,180 times its weight.

Packing the fastest, deadliest punch

In terms of combat sports, bigger is not always better.

Peacock mantis shrimps – invertebrates found in Australian marine waters and elsewhere – have the swiftest and most powerful punch in the lightweight crustacean division.

They kill prey by punching them with strong, club-like appendages. They deliver blows at up to 23m per sec, akin to the speed and force of a .22 calibre bullet being fired.

So powerful is the punch, it vaporises water and creates a super-hot shockwave that breaks up and incapacitates its prey.

Tantalising contests

What about a digging contest? Eastern barred bandicoots can shift 4.8 tonnes of soil a year. How would that stack up against marsupial moles, which can disappear almost instantly into desert sands? Or the expert excavations of wombats and aardvarks that can dig more than half a metre in 15 seconds?

In terms of free-diving and flying, there’s really no contest. Cuvier’s beaked whale can dive nearly 3000m and peregrine falcons can reach over 320 km/hr. These animals are found across the globe, however – not just in Australia.

Australia’s largest gliding marsupial, the greater glider, can sail up to 100m between trees. But gliding gold would surely go to the giant flying squirrel, which can glide up to 450m.

I’d love to see a shooting contest between Australia’s archer fish and Madagascar’s panther chameleon. But finding the right arena for both aquatic and land-based sharpshooters would be tricky.

Raygun’s kangaroo hop is now legendary, but a breaking (break dancing) contest between a peacock spider, spanish dancer (a type of nudibranch) and a magnificent riflebird might genuinely break the internet.

Appreciating wildlife athletes

So who would win a global contest for the best wildlife athlete overall?

If the competition was on land and focused on running, jumping, strength and climbing, it’s hard to go past the overall abilities of a Bengal tiger.

Many amazing wildlife athletes are threatened with extinction. Others are gone forever.

They include the incredible oolacunta – also known as the desert rat kangaroo. It’s powers of endurance in the desert are the stuff of folklore. As legendary Australian mammalogist Hedley Herbert Finlayson wrote in 1931:

Its speed for such an atom, was wonderful, and its endurance amazing … when we finally got it, it had taken the starch out of three mounts and run us 12 miles; all under such adverse conditions of heat and rough going, as to make it almost incredible that so small a frame should be capable of such an immense output of energy.

Let’s celebrate wildlife and their athletic abilities and ensure they have a secure future.

By Anthony Rendall (Deakin University), Amy Coetsee (The University of Melbourne), Aviya Naccarella (Deakin University) and Euan Ritchie (Deakin University).

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The eastern barred bandicoot was once found in abundance across the basalt plains of western Victoria. But habitat destruction and predation by introduced red foxes drove the species to the brink of extinction on the mainland.

Establishing populations in fenced reserves was critical in providing insurance against extinction. To further increase bandicoot numbers to provide long-term security against extinction, we needed more fox-free land.

A bold plan was hatched: move the species to where the predators weren’t. Introduce them to Victoria’s fox-free Phillip and French islands.

Six years later, the bandicoot made conservation history, as the first species in Australia to be reclassified from extinct in the wild to endangered.

Why don’t we translocate all endangered species to islands? The technique can be effective, but can come with unwanted consequences.

The surprising benefits of translocation

Eastern barred bandicoots are ecosystem engineers. As they dig for their dinner of worms, beetles, bulbs, fungi and other foods, their industrious work improves soil quality, and in turn, the health of vegetation.

So when we translocate threatened species, we can get a double win – a rapid increase in their populations and restoration of lost ecosystem functions.

Australia’s landscapes look very different than they did before European colonisation around 230 years ago.

Industrialised farming, introduced predators and habitat destruction and fragmentation are driving biodiversity decline and extinctions. As species die out, ecosystems lose the vital functions wildlife perform. Without them, ecosystems might not operate as well or even collapse – a little like a poorly serviced car engine.

We feel the loss most acutely when we lose keystone species on which many other species depend, such as oysters and bees. Restoring these functions can improve biodiversity and the sustainability of food production. For instance, encouraging owls to return to farmland can cut the use of damaging rodent poisons, as owls eat thousands of mice and rats yearly.

Before colonisation, industrious digging mammals and their soil excavations were extremely widespread. Regrettably, introduced foxes and cats have made short work of many of Australia’s diggers. Six of 29 digging species are now extinct, including the lesser bilby, pig-footed bandicoot and desert rat-kangaroo. Many others are endangered.

Could translocation save more species?

Conservationists have successfully translocated species such as the western swamp tortoise, the Shark Bay mouse, and northern quolls.

New environments don’t necessarily need to be predator-free. The eastern barred bandicoot is thriving on Phillip and French Island, in the presence of feral and domestic cats. The key is there are no foxes.

Many islands are now being thought of as conservation arks, able to provide safe havens for several threatened species at once. Dirk Hartog Island, Western Australia’s largest, is now home to reintroduced western quolls, dibblers, mulgaras and other small mammals, as well as two translocated hare-wallaby species.

Why is translocation not more common?

The technique can work very well – but it can also backfire.

In the 1920s, conservationists undertook the first translocation in Australia by moving koalas to Phillip and French Island – the same Victorian islands now a refuge for bandicoots. While this protected koalas from hunting pressure, koala populations exploded, and the tree-dwelling marsupials ate themselves out of house and home in some areas.

In 2012, conservationists began introducing Tasmanian devils to Maria Island, just off Tasmania’s east coast. They wanted to conserve a healthy population free from the contagious facial tumour which has devastated their populations. On Maria Island, the devils became too successful, wiping out the island’s penguin and shearwater populations.

You can see translocations aren’t a silver bullet. We have to carefully consider the pros and cons of any such conservation intervention. Ecosystems are complex. It’s not easy to predict what will happen to an ecosystem if we introduce a species new to the area.

The decision to translocate a species is a value judgement – it prioritises one species over the broader ecosystem. Opponents of translocation question whether we are doing the right thing in valuing efforts to conserve a single species over the innate value of the existing ecosystem.

What’s the best approach in future?

Translocation is not the end goal. Islands cannot support the vast array of threatened species in Australia.

The end goal is to establish and expand threatened species populations on the mainland in fenced reserves before eventually reintroducing them to the wild where they will encounter introduced predators.

Research is being done to explore how we can make this work, such as:

1) Predator-savvy wildlife: some native species may be able to adapt to living alongside introduced predators – with some help. For example, conservationists have exposed semi-captive bilbies to small numbers of feral cats with the aim of increasing their wariness and ultimately boosting their chances of survival. Results have been encouraging.

2) Building ecosystem resilience: we know more intact native ecosystems can reduce the chance of damage from invasive species . That means re-establishing native ecosystems could boost their resilience.

Moving a species from its home is a bold and risky decision. It’s critical local communities and First Nations groups are consulted and able to guide discussions and any eventual actions.

For their part, governments, land managers and conservationists must think more broadly about how we might best conserve species and ecosystems in a rapidly changing world.

By Jaana Dielenberg, University Fellow, Charles Darwin University; Euan Ritchie, Professor in Wildlife Ecology and Conservation, School of Life & Environmental Sciences, Deakin University; Loren Fardell, Research Fellow, The University of Queensland, and Therésa Jones, Professor in Evolution and Behaviour, The University of Melbourne

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Light and sound shows in parks can enthral crowds with their colour, music and storytelling. Lasting for weeks to months, the shows provide entertainment and can boost local economies. But unless they are well-located, the shows can also harm wildlife.

A planned production at a wildlife sanctuary in outer Melbourne has brought these concerns to the fore. In April and May this year, a wildlife reserve on the Mornington Peninsula will host Harry Potter: A Forbidden Forest Experience. The event involves a two-kilometre night walk where, according to organisers, characters from the film are “brought to life”.

The event has prompted an outcry from people worried about the effect on the reserve’s vulnerable wildlife. The sanctuary, known as The Briars, is home to native animals including powerful and boobook owls, owlet-nightjars, koalas, wallabies, Krefft’s gliders, lizards, frogs, moths and spiders. A petition calling for the event to be relocated has attracted more than 21,000 signatures.

Research shows artificial light, sound and the presence of lots of people at night can harm wildlife. It’s not hard to see why. Imagine if a music and light show, and thousands of people, turned up at your house every night for weeks on end. How would you feel?

A history of community opposition

In addition to the lights and sounds, these shows can involve artificial smoke and animated sculptures. While they often take place along existing walking trails, they attract huge crowds at a time when animals usually have the place to themselves.

Most of Australia’s mammals and frogs and many bird and reptile species are nocturnal, or active at night. They have adapted to the natural darkness, sounds and smells of the night.

The Harry Potter experience planned for The Briars has taken place elsewhere around the world, including at a nature area near the Belgian capital of Brussels. That event, in February last year, was also opposed by locals on ecological grounds. Belgian Minister for Nature Zuhal Demir has reportedly said the show would not return this year due to concern for wildlife.

Light shows proposed for other wildlife conservation areas have also faced community opposition. In Australia, there were calls to halt the Parrtjima light festival in the Alice Springs Desert Park over potential harm to the threatened black-footed rock wallabies. The Lumina light show proposed for Mount Coot-tha in Brisbane has also attracted concern for wildlife.

Light, sounds, action!

Research shows artificial light affects wildlife in many ways. For example, it can change their hormone levels, and the numbers and health of their offspring.

Light also interferes with the ability of many species to navigate. This can cause birds to become disorientated and crash. It can also prevent baby turtles from finding the sea.

Some animals will forgo feeding or drinking and attracting mates. Other animals will try to move to a darker location. In the Belgian case, locals claimed owls left the park to avoid the lights.

Studies of small mammals such as bats, micro-bats, possums and bandicoots have shown many will avoid using habitat that is artificially lit. When there is no alternative dark habitat, species forced to deal with bright conditions – whether natural or artificial – have been found to reduce their activity.

Conversely, some animals are attracted to light. Insects such as moths will cluster around the artificial light source, unable to leave. Some will become so exhausted they will become easy prey.

What’s more, human-caused noise also stresses animals and changes animal behaviour. It masks the natural soundscape, making it harder for animals to find mates or hear the calls of their young. It can also mean animals can’t hear predators or their prey.

When thousands of humans travel through an area they leave strong predator-like smells. This can be stressful for wildlife. It can also mask smells vital for an animal’s survival, such as that of food and predators.

Long-term harm

When faced with all this disruption, many nocturnal animals will hide until a site returns to normal, which in the case of light shows is often close to midnight. This cuts in half the time animals have to go about their life-sustaining activities and exposes them to greater risks when they do go out.

Light and sound shows are usually temporary – but can have major long-term impacts.

In species with low birth rates and short lifespans, a disturbance to breeding can be catastrophic. For example, males of the genus Antechinus (small marsupials) live long enough for just one short breeding season. If they are disrupted, there are no second chances.

The stress of human lights, sounds, smells and disturbance can shorten an animal’s life. Stress can make them more prone to illness and create problems with sleeping, reproduction, development and growth that can last for multiple generations.

Find a better location

The Mornington Peninsula Shire Council has defended the Harry Potter event, saying the placement of props, lights and sounds has been carefully considered.

Organisers may have minimised impacts where they can, but evidence suggests the impact on wildlife will still be extensive.

The sanctuary where the event will be held is billed as “an ark – a place which nurtures, protects and celebrates the unique flora and fauna of the peninsula, now rare but not lost”. Deliberately locating a light and sound show at the reserve seems at odds with this mission.

Events such as this clearly affect wildlife. Finding genuinely suitable locations should be done with care – and should avoid wildlife conservation areas altogether.

By Euan Ritchie, Deakin University.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Across the vast Australian continent, feral pigs, feral deer and European rabbits roam in their millions. By different names – wild boar, venison and lapin – these could all be served in a Michelin star restaurant.

Feral and invasive species are becoming popular meals for native wildlife too. For species like the saltwater crocodile and spotted-tailed quoll, the menu is expanding and changing due to the arrival of invasive alien species – one of the greatest threats to biodiversity globally.

The good news is, many invasive alien species make good tucker. Around the world, native wildlife are dining on increasing numbers of exotic prey. In the United States, endangered snail kites — a wetland raptor — crunch through invasive apple snails, red-banded snakes swallow North American bullfrogs in China, dingoes devour feral sambar deer and goats in Australia, Sulawesian toads gobble up introduced yellow crazy ants in Indonesia, and golden eagles and saltwater crocodiles both love eating feral pigs on opposite sides of the Pacific.

Of crocs and pigs

So can we say these invasives are useful in some sense? Exotic prey can help boost numbers of some native predators. Saltwater crocodiles in the Northern Territory are rapidly bouncing back after widespread, severe culling.

Using the bones of crocodiles collected through time, researchers have shown that over roughly half a century, salties have shifted from a diet largely based on fish to a more terrestrial diet, including feral water buffalo and pigs.

This seems like a much-needed good news story for the environment – a natural way to limit feral pigs, one of Australia’s most widespread and damaging invasive species. At present, though, we don’t know for sure that crocs keep pig numbers down.

Pigs and crocodiles live in the fast and slow lanes, respectively. Feral pigs feed and breed, and few things are off the menu. Sows can give birth from around 6 months of age, and produce ten or more piglets in litters once or twice every 12 or so months.

On the other hand, female estuarine crocodiles begin reproducing at around 12 years of age, and do so once a year under the right conditions. Crocodiles cut back on hunting and other activity during cooler months. Together, this means feral pigs can endure relatively high predation rates and still persist in ecosystems in large numbers.

Of quolls and rabbits

The largest of Australia’s four predatory marsupial quoll species, the spotted-tailed quoll, is known to enjoy rabbit even when there is a diverse and abundant selection of native mammals within the same area.

Unfortunately, quolls are now absent or still declining in many places, due likely to competition or predation with the bigger, heavier predators Europeans introduced: feral cats and foxes. In the bush, male cats can be sizeable – exceeding 6 kilos, roughly double the size of your average spotted-tailed quoll.

As quolls have disappeared, rabbits may have taken advantage of the predatory void and expanded. Fast-breeding rabbits are now arguably Australia’s worst invasive alien species. Their sheer numbers support cat and fox populations.

This begs the question – if cats and foxes could be eradicated or greatly reduced in some areas, could we reintroduce quolls to help manage rabbit populations or prevent their return?

Dangerous dinners

Not all introduced prey make safe meals.

Cane toads have devastated some native species such as northern quolls, which naturally prey on native amphibians but cannot survive toad toxin.

Regrettably, a recent attempt to train quolls not to eat cane toads appears to have failed.

But other species have learnt to safely eat cane toads, including the rakali (Australian water rat), which removes and eats toad hearts and livers with surgical precision. The humble bin chicken (white ibis) has also figured out how to make toads safer by washing them.

European house mice and introduced rats can be easy prey for owls, snakes, and many other native predators. Unfortunately, these easy pickings can become their last suppers – not because the rodents are toxic, but because they may well have eaten rodenticide which makes them easier to hunt. Once a sick, dying rodent is eaten, the predator can in turn be poisoned and die. Scavengers who eat poisoned predators can also die, affecting entire food chains and ecosystems.

Sometimes predators can find themselves prey, depending on their age and size. In Australia, large pythons, goannas and monitor lizards eat foxes and cats, but these same reptiles are preyed upon by cats and foxes when younger and smaller.

Invasive prey aren’t going away

As time goes on, invasive prey species can become regular meals for native predators – and part of the food web.

When we try to remove invasive prey species from ecosystems, we must take a big picture view and proceed with great caution.

When feral cats were killed off on New Zealand’s Little Barrier island, it was done with the best intentions: protect the seabirds nesting there. But with the cats gone, invasive rat populations surged and soon began killing the seabird chicks.

In Australia’s arid regions, we now have experimental evidence to suggest biological controls such as rabbit haemorrhagic disease do keep rabbit numbers down, alongside culling and destroying warrens. With the rabbits suppressed, plants and native herbivores can bounce back. This, in turn, pushes cat and fox populations lower, as these two predators maintain their high numbers in arid regions in part due to an abundance of rabbits.

But this doesn’t work in the wetter, more vegetated south-east. Here, there’s little evidence rabbit control greatly affects fox populations.

So should we celebrate crocs chomping on pigs and rakali eating cane toads? Of course – it’s a sign that some of our native predators can adapt to these introduced species. But it’s not true for all native wildlife. Our quolls are doing far worse with the new arrivals.

And for every native predator finding new tucker, there are far more cats and foxes eating birds, reptiles, frogs, and small marsupials, while pigs, deer, camels, horses, donkeys, and water buffalo run amok. We have already set these creatures loose – we must use all means possible to try and rein them in.

By Euan Ritchie, Deakin University; Jack Pascoe, The University of Melbourne; Kirsty Howey, Charles Darwin University; Terry Hughes, James Cook University, and Yung En Chee, The University of Melbourne

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Australia’s abysmal rates of extinctions and land clearing since European colonisation are infamous globally. Our national environmental legislation has largely failed to protect biodiversity, including many threatened plants, animals and ecological communities. But change is afoot.

The federal government is reforming our national environmental law. Following a scathing review in 2021, the legislation is being rewritten. While amendments to the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999 (EPBC Act) are yet to be tabled in parliament, the government says “rolling consultation” has begun.

About 30 environment, business and industry groups attended “targeted stakeholder workshops” last month. Public consultation begins with two webinars, on November 23 and 28. Government officials are offering to “explain how the proposed changes are designed to work and how they compare to existing laws”. But they are not sharing the draft legislation yet.

How can we assess whether these new laws can prevent further species loss and habitat destruction? Here’s an essential checklist of five things the law must include if we are to avoid calamity and hasten environmental recovery.

📅⏰Save the date for our upcoming online public webinars to learn about changes to our environmental laws.
Webinar 1: 23 November 2:00 pm to 3:30 pm AEST.
Webinar 2: 28 November, 12:30 pm to 2:00 pm AEST.
Registration links will open shortly. https://t.co/MwAfzv3RRG pic.twitter.com/USUMyOXfFd

— DCCEEW (@DCCEEW) November 10, 2023

1. A climate trigger

The EPBC Act does not explicitly discuss and account for climate change and its impacts. So the federal environment minister is not legally bound to consider – or authorised to refuse – new or expanded coal mines and fossil gas fields based on their future climate impacts.

But climate change clearly threatens biodiversity and special places such as the Great Barrier Reef, as well as human communities and culture.

2. Habitat means homes for wildlife

Protection of sufficient and connected habitat must be central to Australia’s national environmental law. If homes for swift parrots, koalas, greater gliders and other threatened species continue to be destroyed and fragmented, it is all but guaranteed Australia will fail in its stated quest to avoid further extinctions.

Northern Australia is home to exceptional but declining biodiversity that is increasingly threatened by development of pastoral, cotton and fracking industries.

Significant increases in land clearing and water extraction are seldom referred under the EPBC Act, let alone assessed.

Environmental law reform must stem the accelerating loss of biodiversity in this region and elsewhere. Reforms must include expanding the water trigger to apply to shale gas fracking, and ensuring significant land clearing is referred and assessed.

It is also crucial that federal approval powers are not devolved to states and territories, particularly in remote regions where so much damage occurs out of sight and out of mind.

3. Setting clear objectives and measuring outcomes

The new laws must state policy objectives such as no new extinctions and no actions that accelerate climate change.

Decision-makers must be required to address direct, indirect and cumulative threats that undermine these objectives.

The new National Environment Standards (the centrepiece of this law reform) must stipulate red lines not to be crossed, such as no clearing of any critically endangered ecological communities or critical habitat of threatened species.

We should always seek first to avoid harm, then keep harm to a minimum, and only as a last resort, offset remaining impacts – and then only with credible offset plans that fully account for uncertainties in delivering environmental compensation.

4. An independent umpire

We need a well-resourced, independent umpire, operating at arms length from government. This “independent cop on the beat” will need powers to prevent activities and developments deemed too harmful for biodiversity.

The government has vowed to create a national Environmental Protection Agency. The functioning and powers of such an entity risk being severely undermined if the environment minister of the day has the ability to “call-in” projects and make unilateral decisions over whether they can proceed. That would also create concern regarding industry influence and pressure on ministers to approve projects.

It’s essential ministers not only have regard for environmental standards but also follow them to the letter of the law.

Breaking: Forestry Tasmania confirms huge centuries-old tree being trucked through Hobart CBD was from Swift parrot habitat being logged now. @jeremyrockliff says that’s ok! #politas https://t.co/qRDjYztJfS

— Bob Brown Foundation (@BobBrownFndn) October 30, 2023

5. A Voice for Country and culture

Our national environment laws must make room for genuine Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders participation in how matters of cultural and environmental significance are managed.

Our new nature laws must interact with federal cultural heritage laws, which are also under reform. Entities of cultural significance, such as humpback whales and dingoes, must be cared for in a way deemed appropriate by Indigenous Australians. Such a mechanism must be co-designed with Aboriginal and Torres Straight Islanders.

Policy must continue to be developed in partnership with Aboriginal and Torres Strait islander people. We suggest a Land and Sea Country Commissioner, “a Voice for Country”, could lead this ongoing collaboration. We also need to ensure groups are adequately resourced and supported to Care for Country.

We must do better

The time has come to lift our ambitions and truly protect our nation’s precious environment and biodiversity.

Australians want effective, urgent action from government. For cultural, social, economic and environmental reasons, biodiversity conservation should be treated as a public good and receive bipartisan support. It’s not an optional extra. We simply must invest in nature. We cannot afford not to.

By Euan Ritchie (Deakin University), Bradley Smith, (CQUniversity Australia), Kylie M Cairns (UNSW Sydney), Sonya Takau (Indigenous Knowledge), and Whitney Rassip (Indigenous Knowledge).

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Aside from humans, dingoes are Australia’s largest land-based predator. They are arguably our most maligned, misunderstood, and mismanaged native species.

But evidence suggests this iconic canine helps maintain healthy ecosystems. They’re also a tourist draw-card. And they hold deep values for First Nations peoples.

Since colonisation, Australian governments and land managers have trapped, shot, poisoned and excluded dingoes from large parts of their Country. Policy and practices have frequently overlooked First Nations’ perspectives.

It doesn’t have to be this way. We can hear the diverse voices and values of First Nations peoples, livestock producers, ecologists, and others as we shape future policy and practices. By collaborating and drawing from both Indigenous and Western knowledge, we can find ways to live in harmony with our apex predator.

How are dingoes currently treated?

Under federal environmental law, any species present in Australia before AD 1400, such as the dingo, is classified as native. However, dingoes are not listed nationally as a threatened species. So individual state governments make their own decisions about how to treat them.

In the Northern Territory, Queensland and Victoria, dingoes are managed as protected wildlife in National Parks and conservation areas but they’re unprotected on private land.

In Western Australia, South Australia, the Australian Capital Territory and New South Wales, dingoes are unprotected wildlife. That means they are afforded no protection, even in conservation areas.

But state governments also list “wild dogs” as a priority pest species. That allows – even requires – them to be killed on public and private land.

Some states, such as Victoria, have “wild dog” bounties where landholders can turn in wild dog (but more likely dingo) body parts for money.

The state definitions of “wild dogs” includes dingoes and dingo-dog hybrids. This is based on the mistaken belief that interbreeding between dingoes and dogs was widespread across Australia.

But recent DNA research shows dingo-dog hybrids are rare. Most wild dingoes have little to no dog ancestry. This has led scientists, conservationists, and First Nations peoples to call on state governments to change dingo policies.

Stark contrasts in dingo management

Stretching more than 5,600km across Australia, the dingo barrier fence is the longest continuous artificial environmental barrier in the world. It was designed to keep dingoes out of the more productive sheep grazing areas in southeastern Australia.

In South Australia, dingoes south of the “dingo fence” are declared “wild dogs” and subject to an eradication policy. North of the “dingo fence” they are unprotected wildlife.

In contrast, dingoes are listed as threatened throughout Victoria. They are protected on public land (if more than 3 km from a private land boundary).

The existence of an isolated and threatened “Big Desert” wilkerr (dingo) population on the border between these two states highlights their differing approaches.

While the Victorian population is partially protected in the Big Desert-Wyperfeld conservation reserve complex, the South Australian wilkerr population is poisoned four times a year inside Ngarkat Conservation Area.

What do dingoes mean to First Nations peoples?

Dingoes hold strong cultural significance for First Nations peoples across Australia. They are considered loved and respected family members that have always been by their sides. A healthy dingo population is seen as essential for healthy Country and healthy people.

Despite the harms of colonisation on dingoes and First Nations, Indigenous people continue to feel and nurture this connection to dingoes. Maintaining their culture means fulfilling the general cultural obligation and rights of First Nations peoples to protect this sacred animal.

This was reinforced at the National Inaugural First Nations Dingo Forum in Cairns last month (September 15–16). The forum produced a powerful statement signed by more than 20 Nations.

The national dingo declaration is clear: First Nations peoples want an immediate end to the “genocide” (deliberate killing) of dingoes on Country. Lethal control of dingoes is not acceptable, nor justified.

We join the call for an end to the use of the term “wild dog”, because it’s misleading and disrespectful. Pure dingoes, not feral or hybrid wild dogs, are predominately being killed.

First Nations people want to see the dingo reinstated as “the boss of Country”. They call on governments at all levels to involve First Nations peoples in decisions relating to dingo management, to implement and support educational programs across a variety of platforms and organisations, and to see dingoes protected under legislation.

The recent Victorian decision to maintain lethal control of dingo populations against the wishes of First Nations peoples is extremely disappointing.

Non-lethal ways to protect livestock

While lethal methods have historically been used to protect livestock from dingoes, there is growing awareness of their limitations.

Firstly, these methods have not been consistently effective in eliminating livestock losses. In some cases they have exacerbated the problem, possibly due to killing and loss of older individuals, which can change the social cohesion of dingo populations, breeding, their movements and how territorial they are. It may also alter how successful they are at hunting kangaroos, causing more attacks on livestock.

Secondly, they have been associated with adverse consequences for biodiversity. In some cases, having dingoes around can be beneficial for graziers by reducing the total grazing pressure of kangaroos, feral goats, and other herbivores, and in some cases the impacts of feral pigs too. Increasing numbers of landholders are recognising this.

Lastly, there is growing consensus these lethal approaches are not aligned with the values of the general public, particularly First Nations peoples.

Non-lethal approaches to managing dingoes are gaining prominence as they are more environmentally sustainable and compassionate. These approaches prioritise coexistence by reducing conflict between dingoes and human interests while allowing dingoes to persist in landscapes.

One of the most promising non-lethal methods involves guardian animals, such as livestock-guarding dogs, llamas, and donkeys. These guardian animals establish protective bonds with livestock and effectively deter dingoes from approaching, reducing livestock losses for graziers.

Additionally, there is growing interest in developing innovative dingo deterrents, such as electric fencing and devices that emit loud noises, smells or visual stimuli, to discourage interaction between livestock and dingoes.

Initiatives promoting best practices for animal husbandry, including secure fencing, corralling, shepherding, and reducing access to resources (such as water and carcasses), play a crucial role in diminishing the attractiveness of livestock as prey to dingoes.

Working and walking together

By promoting coexistence and exploring and investing in innovative non-lethal solutions, we can strike a balance between safeguarding human interests, preserving the vital ecological role that dingoes perform, and respecting First Nations’ culture. In doing so, it is our hope that communities will be more united than divided.

We would like to acknowledge retired graziers Angus and Karen Emmott and family from far North Queensland. Their personal story about dingoes at Noonbah Station in Queensland’s Channel Country helped inform our article, and we consider Angus a co-author.

By Euan Ritchie (Deakin University), Brett Murphy (Charles Darwin University), and John Woinarski (Charles Darwin University).

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

The Northern Territory government’s plan to turn 100,000 hectares over to large-scale crops such as cotton and its support for onshore gas extraction is threatening the world’s largest intact tropical savanna.

This is a region of immense cultural, environmental and economic value. It is home to the World Heritage listed Kakadu National Park and rich biodiversity.

As wildlife ecologists and conservation scientists, we are deeply concerned about plans announced last month that would intensify land clearing.

Accelerating habitat loss would all but guarantee failure of the Australian government’s zero extinctions plan, notwithstanding the fact many of the species placed in harm’s way by fracking and farming are yet to be discovered.

Rather than relaxing regulation to support development, we need to urgently overhaul Australia’s grossly inadequate environmental laws and safeguards, which also lack enforcement.

Land clearing leaves wildlife homeless

When we think of unregulated land clearing and habitat loss in the tropics, impoverished countries in tropical South America, Africa and Asia spring to mind. Not a relatively rich, developed country like Australia.

But across Australia’s tropical north, landscapes are afforded little protection. Land clearing leads to habitat loss, erosion and pollution of waterways.

Threatened species such as the Gouldian finch, black-footed tree-rat, and northern river shark are being put at risk.

Agriculture, including livestock grazing (pastoralism), is by far the greatest driver of land clearing in northern Australia.

The land subject to clearing approvals in the NT increased by 300% between 2018 and 2021. This trend is expected to continue.

First Nations Peoples, environmental scientists, conservation groups, and other members of the public fear the push to develop cotton in the NT will mean clearing a further 100,000 ha. That stems from the 2019 NT Farmers Association business case for the construction of a cotton processing facility in the NT, which is nearing completion.

Weak laws afford limited protection

Our national environmental protection law, the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act, relies on self-referral of development activities for assessment.

Proponents of pastoral land clearing projects almost never refer their projects to the Australian government for assessment, even if their projects are set to deplete thousands of hectares of habitat within the known range of threatened species.

This means the potential impacts on threatened species and other natural values supposedly protected by national environmental laws, are never assessed by experts. And there is no mechanism for anyone else to refer the development for assessment.

The NT has no dedicated land clearing or native vegetation management legislation. The Pastoral Land Board approves land clearing across pastoral leases (which cover more than 45% of the territory’s land area). Permits for up to 5,000ha are generally granted without any formal environmental impact assessment.

On one occasion the proponent referred an application to the NT Environment Protection Agency. But it was deemed clearing the 10,000ha would not have a significant impact. So there was no environmental impact assessment required.

Some of the most notable examples of recent uncontrolled land clearing, without any assessment of biodiversity impacts, were for cotton on pastoral land in the NT.

Finally, the current regulatory system covers single development proposals. It is poorly equipped to consider the cumulative impacts of successive individual clearing events.

Fuelling fires and biodiversity loss

The push to extract gas from the Beetaloo Basin represents another major threat to the region. The export of fracked gas from Beetaloo will be facilitated by the Middle Arm Sustainable Development precinct.

This runs counter to warnings from the world’s climate scientists that we must rapidly move away from a reliance on fossil fuels if we are to meet ambitions to keep global warming below 1.5°C.

For northern Australia, climate change means more severe storms, coral bleaching, death of mangroves, more intense and extended dry seasons (with less water for wildlife), and increased fire risk and severity.

Threats may compound upon each other, as invasive gamba and buffel grass that favour and promote fire would be even more likely to thrive and expand.

A better future for Australia’s tropical savannas

To protect Australia’s tropical savannas from uncontrolled land clearing and gas extraction, we need:

• Stronger national environment protection legislation. The federal government is in the process of reviewing the EPBC Act. This is a perfect opportunity to recognise and protect our tropical savannas. The new act must have stronger requirements for the formal assessment of all projects that are likely to affect threatened species. It must also take the cumulative impacts of multiple small projects into account, to avoid “death by a thousand cuts”.
• New NT-focused environmental law such as a Biodiversity Conservation Act, as proposed by the Environmental Defenders Office, Environmental Justice Australia and the Environment Centre NT, would provide tighter regulation of land clearing. This could also consider greenhouse gas emissions, carbon storage and native food production (bush tucker), as well as the intrinsic cultural values of intact ecosystems.
• Most importantly, conservation planning that is community-led, scientifically grounded and respects the wishes and concerns of First Nations Peoples regarding enterprises on and management of Country. Recent pastoral land clearing in the NT has ignored the concerns of Traditional Owners over the loss of Country (despite having legally recognised Native Title on the land).

Avoid repeating past mistakes

While Australia’s tropical savannas are massive in scale, they are increasingly insecure and under significant strain. Against a backdrop of climate change, biodiversity decline and extinction crises, any further development of the north must be subject to rigorous risk-assessment and appropriate environmental protections.

This is essential to ensure any economic benefits justify potential risks. We simply can’t afford to risk repeating mistakes already inflicted on much of southern Australia.