Category Archives: Biodiversity

The Parable of the Corals

“For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another.” (Romans 12:3-5)

On the evening of June 11, 1770, Captain James Cook and his fellow explorers aboard His Majesty’s bark Endeavour sailed cautiously under a full moon along Australia’s east coast – a wild terra incognita never before seen by Western eyes. The calm of the tropical night was broken only by the sighing of the wind in the sails, and call of the “leadsman” in the ship’s bow, throwing his lead-weighted line into the black water ahead to measure its depth beneath the ship’s keel. For days now, the passage between the massive landmass to the west and the Great Barrier Reef to the east had been narrowing, and vigilance was required to assure the safety of the ship’s 94 living souls, now almost two years into an epic journey of discovery.

Austrialian replica of HMS Endevour

Austrialian replica of HMS Endevour

“Fourteen fathoms,” came the call from the leadsman – 84 feet, a comfortable depth for any ship. “Sixteen fathoms.” No worries disturbed the quiet evening. “Seventeen fathoms.” More than one hundred feet of blessed, deep water.

The leadsman prepared to cast his line again, but the throw was never made. With a sickening, splintering jolt, the Endeavour came to a jarring halt, the sea grinding the ship’s broken timbers on sharp corals with every swell, pouring into the hull beneath the gunwales.

Stricken and alone in the remotest corner of the world, the wreck and subsequent rescue of the Endeavour offers an inspiring story of courage, leadership and resourcefulness on the part of a desperate ship’s crew. But years later, the wreck left Captain Cook wholly perplexed by the “wall of Coral Rock rising almost perpendicular out of the unfathomable Ocean.”  He knew that coral reefs were biological in origin. But if so, how had it come to be so massive a wall – to be “thrown up to such a height?”

Corals turn out to be among the world’s most amazing creatures, capable of building structures that dwarf the Pyramids of Giza, the Great Wall of China, or even the monstrous tar sands pits of Canada. The Great Barrier Reef, where Captain Cook nearly met his end, stretches for 1,500 miles, and is as thick as 500 feet from top to bottom.  And coral reefs range throughout tropical waters around the globe, from Australia, to Belize, to the Red Sea, and thousands of places in-between.

As any reader of the gospels knows, Jesus Christ had a habit of calling on familiar natural objects to illustrate his teaching. “Consider the lilies,” he would tell us in our worries about food and clothing. “My sheep hear my voice,” he said, comforting his anxious followers. “Foxes have dens, and birds of the heaven have nests,” in contrast to his own enduring homelessness.

But if Jesus were teaching the Christian church in North America today, I think he might point us to the corals. “Consider the corals,” he might begin.

Why corals? Because, of all God’s creatures, corals display the beauty of unified community, nurturing an explosion of life in otherwise barren places. And whatever else might be said about the Church today, surely we need someone – or something – to help us to nurture unity and life-affirming patterns.

Unity Amidst Diversity: The New Testament is packed with pleas for – and shining examples of – unity among Jesus’ disciples. In his only recorded prayer for the Church that would follow him, Jesus asks the Father “that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you …” (John 17:21). St. Paul carries on the theme, calling us one body with many vital parts – the Body of Christ, drinking of one cup, partaking of one Spirit, serving one Lord and Father of all. And perhaps most coral-like, St. Peter calls us “living stones” being built together as a single house of worship.

Hundreds of species of coral polyps at work

Hundreds of species of coral polyps at work

All these scriptures speak of the Church. But perhaps they also could describe those amazing corals. Let me explain.

At the heart of every coral reef are millions of tiny animals that we call polyps. Coral polyps are invertebrates related to anemones or jellyfish, only a few millimeters in diameter. Despite their soft bodies, they’ve been endowed with the ability to build exoskeletons – rock-like shells, made from the building blocks of the ocean’s chemistry – through the process of calcification. And as they multiply, those exoskeletons build upon one another to create massive formations, rich in calcium, and home to complex ecosystems.

They are, quite literally, “living stones.” A coral polyp on its own is practically nothing. But on a reef, billions of polyps belonging to as many as a hundred different species are all devoting themselves to the same basic task. Building together, sharing nutrients with one another, and providing mutual protection, they form what appears to be a single rock formation, strong enough to sink ships of wood or steel, and tame the fiercest ocean waves.

I’m afraid we have much to learn from the corals. In Western culture, we have developed a once-unimaginably individualistic world-view – possibly the most inhospitable to real community in human memory. Our technology, our wealth, our rampant consumption and our national myths all conspire toward individual comfort and isolation, in ways never before possible. We often drive our cars alone. One in four of us lives entirely alone. In Los Angeles, more than 75% of us have our own solitary home, cutting off the beautiful messiness on which community thrives. Our long commutes guarantee plenty of “elbow room,” safe from intrusion by meddling neighbors. We shop with the click of a finger. And even when we’re with others, our ear buds and smart phones block out the messy community around us, as we tune in our private play-lists and videos.

So it’s not surprising that our Western brand of Christianity tends to reflect this hyper-individual mindset. God has a plan for my life…. I come to the garden alone…. My Redeemer waits for me at gates of gold…. I change churches frequently, rather than reconciling personal conflicts, or seeking common ground amidst divergent perspectives, beliefs and tastes. Ultimately, perhaps, I drop the whole church thing entirely, while insisting that I remain deeply “spiritual” – in some individualized conception.

But I wonder if we can imagine Jesus speaking to us: “Consider the corals….”

If lilies of the field and birds of the air can be our teachers, then why can’t they? The tiny polyps are distinct individuals; real animals with their own God-given value, representing many distinct species. Each one builds a small bit of calcified shell during its life. But those shells are fused together with the entire coral community, eventually yielding massive rocks of every color, shape and size. Not only that, but each polyp extends its tissues to link with its neighbor, so that each can share nutrients with all the rest. No coral polyp hungers – or prospers – alone.

But the communitarian enterprise does much more than unite coral to coral. In fact, none of world’s reefs would be possible if corals did not also welcome and shelter other species into their homes. Although corals are animals, each polyp harbors tiny plants known as zooxanthellae. Protected by the coral structures, these plants produce carbohydrates via photosynthesis, and polyps harvest the carbohydrates to support their growth. As long as ocean conditions are stable, this symbiotic relationship drives the growth and health of all reefs.

Father, may they all be one…. Like corals, perhaps? Wouldn’t that be remarkable!

Nurturing Life in a Barren Place: I love the sapphire blue of tropical waters, don’t you? But appearances can be deceiving. In fact, tropical waters are clear and bright precisely because they are low in nutrients, like nitrogen and phosphorus, the marine equivalents of deserts. Paradoxically, however, it’s these waters that spawn an explosion of sea life without which the ocean ecosystems would collapse.

The reason? Of course, it’s the corals. They are perfectly suited to thrive in these waters. The reefs are natural construction projects that displace no creatures, but rather support thousands or millions of species with nutrients and shelter.

"Nurseries of the ocean: Reefs support incredible biodiversity

“Nurseries of the ocean”: Reefs support incredible biodiversity

Thousands of species? Consider: Author Elizabeth Kolbert interviewed an Australian researcher who broke apart a volleyball-sized chunk of coral, and found, living inside it, more than 1,400 polychaete worms belonging to 103 different species. She found an American researcher who collected corals from a one square meter of reef coral, and discovered more than 100 species of crustaceans. And in another square meter, a researcher discovered more than 120 species.

Corals work together to fulfill their singular purpose, and entire ecosystems spring to life. Indeed, the corals feed their guests in a more sacrificial manner as well. The corals are constantly being eaten away at by fish, sea urchins and burrowing worms. And yet, if ocean conditions are healthy, they grow fast enough to feed their guests while maintaining the health of their own community.

The Church after Pentecost comes to mind doesn’t it? No one claimed his possessions as his own; there were no needy persons among them; much grace was upon them all. “They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people” (Acts 2:46-47). Doesn’t it sound a bit like a spectacular coral reef community, built and maintained by those tiny polyps and their tinier zooxanthellae partners?

In Danger of Collapse:  The Acts 2 passage above goes on: “And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.” It’s funny, but the more they gave away, the richer they became in brothers, sisters, and acts of grace. And in fits and starts, the Church of Jesus Christ has grown over the years to include 2.2 billion self-identified Christians, the largest faith community on Earth, and by far the most culturally diverse.

And once again, the corals reflect this picture of growth and global diversity. An enormous band of tropical waters stretching around the Earth has been filled and enriched by them. In temperate zones, our limestone quarries and fertile fields point to the presence of their ancient predecessors.

Can we imagine the Lord directing us to model our faith on the lives of corals? If so, we should pause to consider a dire warning. The Earth’s corals are dying.

This is not hyperbole. Take it from the chief scientist at the Australian Institute of Marine Science, J.E.N. Veron: “Here I am today, humbled to have spent my life around the rich wonders of the underwater world, and utterly convinced that they will not be there for our children’s children to enjoy.”

Veron has plenty of company in his lament over dying oceanic ecosystems. In 2012, more than 2,600 of the world’s top marine scientists warned that coral reefs around the world are in rapid decline due to human impacts. The warning signs are everywhere. Virtually all reefs now suffer frequent “bleaching,” when the coral polyps expel their vital zooxanthellae guests in a desperate effort to survive the warming water temperatures. In the Caribbean, approximately 80 percent of coral reef cover is now dead, victim to the warmer waters of a changing climate, overfishing, pollution, and ocean acidification (climate change’s equally “evil twin”).

That last one – ocean acidification – might be a sleeper, but it’s absolutely devastating. Over the last 200 years, mankind has dug up and burned into the air fossil fuels containing more than 500 billion tons of CO2.  About half of all that carbon – roughly 250 billion tons – has been absorbed by the oceans. If not for all that ocean carbon uptake, greenhouse gases in the atmosphere would easily be twice as thick as before the Industrial Revolution, and the Earth would be uninhabitable for many thousands of species.

But the oceans’ services have come at a cost: When CO2 dissolves in water, it forms carbonic acid – H2CO3 – which effectively “eats” carbonate ions, the key chemical ingredient in calcification for creatures like corals, crustaceans and shellfish. Today, carbonic acid has raised the acidity of the oceans by thirty percent over pre-industrial times. And in these acidic waters, corals struggle to grow, or even begin to dissolve. Meanwhile, fish, sea urchins and other creature continue to nibble away at reefs, and humans continue to pump more carbon emissions into the atmosphere, further acidifying the waters that we all depend on.

No one knows for sure how long God’s generous corals can hold out against the onslaught of acids in our day. But many scientists give them no more than 25 years, or perhaps until mid-century, unless we make major changes in the way we consume and produce energy.

Christians believe that their Lord loves the things he made. Not one sparrow falls without God’s loving knowledge, Jesus told us. To him, the lilies of the field were far more beautiful than the most glorious royal wardrobes. And after every day of the Creation story, we hear the voice of Divine Pleasure: “And God saw that it was good.”

I’m convinced that God loves his coral reefs too. If only his Church could come together to nurture life the way they do! Indeed, if the corals are to survive – and the entire ocean ecosystem with them – they may need the Church to unite now in defense of its Master’s beloved Creation.

Mass Extinction: Brothers, What Shall We Do?

We looked for the Monarch butterflies nearly all summer – that beautiful lacework of orange and black wings punctuated by brilliant white spots. The flower gardens were full of inviting zinnia, Echinacea, bee balm and more. The wetland meadow offered abundant milkweeds and vital habitat. And many species accepted the invitation. Swallowtails, skippers, common blues and more. But where were the Monarchs?

One of two lonely Monarchs visiting us this summer

One of two lonely Monarchs visiting us this summer

Finally, in the fading days of summer, our vigil received its first reward. A single Monarch, followed by a second, rummaging through the zinnias. They remained for the better part of one week, before they left us on their journey to warmer climes. But during those few days, we gaped and pointed to our granddaughters: Look how beautiful! It’s a Monarch!

Our little girls are growing up with a new baseline reality: Monarch butterflies are rare and beautiful like diamonds. In a good year you just might get to see one or two.

So where did they all go? Well, they didn’t exactly go anywhere. They have died. By most accounts, more than 90 percent of the Monarch population has vanished in the last 20 years. In 2004, an estimated 550 million Monarchs completed the winter migration; by 2013, that number had fallen more than ten-fold, to only 33 million.  And as I read the data, the downward spiral is accelerating year by year.

The culprit? Well, mainly people like you and me, mowing down the life-giving milkweed that sustains the butterflies, and spraying them with herbicides. We find the milkweeds and other wild plants to be inconvenient in our yards and farm fields. The Monarchs die by the millions.

I miss the Monarchs. But it turns out that their decline is only one vivid snapshot of a mass genocide being carried out over the whole natural world. This year, the World Wildlife Federation (WWF) completed its Living Planet Report 2014, an exhaustive study of more than 10,000 populations of mammals, birds, reptiles, amphibians and fish. Its findings were nothing short of shocking: Populations of vertebrate species on Earth have declined by 52 percent since 1970.

WWF finds 52% loss of wildlife populations in 40 years

WWF: 52% loss of global wildlife in 40 years

To be sure we’re clear on this, the number of all living vertebrates on Earth has declined by more than one-half over forty years. In the span of roughly one human generation, half the mammals, birds, fish, reptiles and amphibians – all gone. It’s as though Moses leads the children of Israel into Sinai; and by the time they cross the Jordan, half of all God’s creatures are dead.

Do you think this might be newsworthy? And beyond the news, do you think it has any special significance for followers of Jesus Christ?

I do. And here’s why. There is no lack of discussion in our day about the Creation account in the book of Genesis. But as we go back and forth on largely inconsequential matters of interpretation, we’re prone to miss some of the most important elements of Creation theology. Let me suggest three seldom-acknowledged nuggets:

  • God made mankind to be stewards in His place, exercising wise dominion on His behalf over His creatures as His beloved possessions;
  • God placed mankind in his Creation to serve it, as well as to be sustained by it; and
  • When all went awry, and God’s judgment fell upon mankind, God directed his chosen person to save not only himself, but also every single species He had created.

That awkward word: Dominion. In the first chapter of Genesis, we read that God gave to humanity “dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.” In our day, we hear the forces of environmental abuse appealing to this passage to support the ongoing exploitation of nature for human consumption.  But however we react to the word “dominion,” scripture doesn’t allow for this view. “The earth is the LORD’s, and everything in it,” declares King David (Psalm 24:1). It’s the Lord’s, not ours. If we have been made rulers, then our dominion is to protect what belongs to God.

And in case we need further clarity about dominion, the Incarnate Word came among us to exercise His dominion over His world.  And what did that dominion look like? The apostle Mark records the words of Jesus: “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). When the true Ruler of Creation walked among us, he exercised his dominion in service, not exploitation.

We also were created to serve the Creation. In Genesis 2, we find that the Man is placed in the Garden for a specific purpose: to “tend and keep” it. It wasn’t written in English, of course, and translators have struggled over how best to render the Hebrew words: AVAD and SHAMAR. AVAD becomes “tend,” or “till,” or “cultivate.” But they are all disappointing. Consider Joshua’s farewell address to the children of Israel: “Choose this day whom you will AVAD…. But as for me and my house, we will AVAD the Lord.” I can assure you that Joshua had no plans to “cultivate” the Lord. And when added to SHAMAR, the Hebrew gives us the unmistakable sense of mankind created to SERVE and PROTECT the Creation.

Redemption is for all the creatures, not just the people. The account of Noah and the flood is recorded in Genesis 6, where God commands a man to build a boat for his family to be saved. But not just his family; “Of every living thing of all flesh, you shall bring two of every sort into the ark to keep them alive with you.” Indeed, when we retell the story, we almost tend to forget about the people, don’t we? “The animals went in two by two, the elephant and the kangaroo,” we tell our children in rhyme and song.

And in case you think that we’re missing the point, God himself includes the animals in the promise we mistakenly refer to as “God’s covenant with Noah.” Scripture tells us that He said: “I establish my covenant with you (Noah) and your offspring after you, and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the livestock, and every beast of the earth with you, as many as came out of the ark; it is for every beast of the earth” (Gen. 9:9-10).

If this is true, then how are we doing? Christians are usually quick to admit failure. “If we confess our sins,” we tell ourselves, “He is faithful and just to forgive us….” But at a time when we have been complicit in a culture of Creation-abuse never seen in human history, surely we cannot look for cheap grace by simply acknowledging our failings, and hoping to be forgiven. God has given us special responsibility, or dominion, for what he has made. Our mission is to serve and protect the Creation to which God has bound himself by covenant. And on our watch, half of it has turned up missing. The immediate future looks even more grim, with the pressures of habitat destruction, exploitation through hunting and fishing, and climate change.

On Pentecost, those listening to St. Peter’s first sermon were cut to the heart, and asked the apostles: “Brothers, what shall we do?” They could not undo the betrayal and crucifixion of the Son of Man. But now they needed to figure out where to go from here.

It’s not so different for us, is it? We’ve been caught red-handed – gluttonous consumers destroying the Creation which we have been entrusted as stewards. Now, half of it is gone in the span of our lifetime. We are digging & drilling, paving & spraying, burning & polluting – and now much of what remains is in dire peril.

Those Monarch butterflies are but brilliant signposts along our path of consumption and destruction. Brothers, what shall we do?

Climate Change and Extinction: Noah’s Ark in Reverse?

Some of us Christians prefer not to openly ask too many questions about the story of Noah’s Ark.

Noah – you know, the pre-Bronze Age 500-year-old guy with his three sons building a boat about half the size of the Titanic, capable of handling a catastrophic torrent for a year; with a cargo consisting of at least one pair of each of the roughly 31,000 non-marine mammal, bird, reptile and amphibian species; plus the roughly one million invertebrate species; plus enough food and habitat to sustain them during their year-long voyage. Not to mention the geological, hydrological and zoological complications….

Of course, such speculation – long the favored realm of one particular slice of the theological pantheon – tends to distract us from some of the more amazing implications of the story. Think about it: When God pronounces judgment on all of mankind for its pervasive violence and corruption, his plan for justice considers first the preservation of animals, insects, and all sorts of living things. The vessel described in sacred scripture was almost completely designed to save non-human creatures. Noah’s labors, as a God-fearing man, were overwhelmingly to preserve the rich biodiversity of God’s creation.

Today, that biodiversity is under assault as never before. Actually, that’s probably not quite right. Paleo-science tells us that five times before, the Earth has suffered “mass extinction events.” The most recent brought down the curtain on the Cretaceous Period – dooming the dinosaurs and virtually all large land animals – some 65 million years ago. That would make our age the Sixth Mass Extinction.

Bengal tiger, one of

Bengal Tiger, one of almost 17,000 species threatened with extinction. Courtesy: IUCN

Already, before our fossil-fuel-emissions began seriously altering the planet’s climate, alarming numbers of species were becoming threatened with extinction. 869 species are known to have vanished entirely in recent times. Another 16,928 species are threatened with extinction and 3,796 more are on the bubble, according to the International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN).  Together, the threatened or near-threatened species comprise more than 46 percent of all plants and animals assessed by the IUCN. Continue reading

Mass Extinction #2: How Serious Is It?

A couple of weeks ago, we dipped our toe into the waters of species extinction. We were alarmed to find serious research indicating that the earth has likely entered a new mass extinction event, the sixth such event known to science. The most recent of these occurred some 65 million years ago, when the dinosaurs disappeared from earth.

Of course, we could not escape the nervy implication that our mass extinction could logically be called – perhaps by some researchers in the distant future – the event that ended the Age of Humanity. Or if that’s constitutionally or theologically beyond what we’re willing to consider, we still grapple with the possibility that it could signal the end for billions of our fellow humans. And by definition, it is the end of countless species of enormous value to their Creator.
So if it’s so, or even remotely possible, it’s certainly worth looking into. In this post, we take a closer look at some of the findings of the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN). Specifically, we will address the following questions:
  • How many species are threatened with extinction?
  • What direction is the extinction threat trending?
  • What does it mean to be “threatened?”
  • How complete is our knowledge at present?
  • Why does it matter to humans?
How many species are threatened?
The IUCN maintains the “Red List of Threatened Species.” The Red List gives us two potentially different answers to the question: (1) Without a doubt, lots of species are likely to go extinct; but (2) We don’t know enough yet to confidently predict just how many. First, we’ll consider the “lots” response. Later on, we’ll take a look at the limitations on our current knowledge.
Roughly one in five vertebrates – mammals, birds, fishes and the like – are “threatened,” according to the Red List. In fact, of the 64,283 known species of vertebrates, more than 56% have been assessed by the IUCN. Exactly 20% of these are threatened with extinction. That’s 7,250 species of animals in danger of disappearing forever. And that’s before any effects of climate change and ocean acidification in coming decades.
Here’s the summary data. I think you’ll agree it’s alarming:
If you look beyond the vertebrates, there are another 1.7 million known (or “described”) species – invertebrates, plants and the like. The picture here looks arguably even more alarming. Consider plants, for instance: almost 60% of the more than 15,000 assessed species are threatened with extinction. That’s more than all the vertebrates combined.
For invertebrates – insects, shellfish, corals, etc. – we see much more of the same. More than 13,000 invertebrate species have been assessed. And more than one in four of them are threatened with extinction.
Overall, the Red List has assessed 65,518 species, and 30.9% of them – almost one in three – are listed as threatened with extinction. If the data is at all credible, this should be setting off alarms in every corner.
What are the trends?
Since the year 1500, 869 species are known to have become extinct. In a world where we casually speak of millions and billions, perhaps we might take comfort that 869 doesn’t sound so bad.  But even if this were so, the trends are not favorable at all: The pace of extinction is picking up, and most have occurred very recently; extinctions are under-reported due to the difficulty of final confirmation; and species whose threat status is deteriorating far outnumber those that are recovering.
Leatherback turtles: Ancient species critically endangered
The plight of amphibians sheds some light on these findings. 38 species of frogs, salamanders and the like have gone extinct in the last 500 years. But 11 of these 38 extinctions have occurred in the last three decades. And while that sounds alarming, it doesn’t come close to telling the whole story. That’s because another 120 amphibian species have disappeared since 1980, and can no longer be found. Researchers are understandably cautious about declaring them extinct, but they’re missing. If they should indeed be extinct, then the pace of dying begins to look like a runaway train, with 27 species dying out over about five centuries, and about five times that number vanishing in the last thirty years.
If we look at surviving – but threatened – species of all kinds, we see a similar story. Between 2004 and 2008, 32 threatened species of mammals actually became less threatened – success stories for conservation advocates. But for every success, there were more than four failures: the threat status of 143 mammal species deteriorated during the same period.  For birds and amphibians, similar trends prevailed: 2 species of birds improved, while 30 deteriorated; only one amphibian species improved, while seven slipped closer to extinction.
What does it mean to be “threatened?”
The Red List contains three categories for species that are aggregated as Threatened: Critically Endangered; Endangered, and Vulnerable.  In assigning species to any of these three categories, researchers consider the following:
  • How much has the population declined?
  • Are the causes of decline reversible, ongoing or ceased?
  • What’s the absolute size of remaining population?
  • How rapidly is the species’ habitat being destroyed or altered?
To get a sense of how serious it is to be “Threatened,” let’s consider what it would take for humankind to make it onto the list. To begin with, the global human population would have to decline in amount as though everyone in the United States, China and the European Union instantly perished, assuming that the cause of our deaths had not been remediated. If whatever was killing us had been solved, then humanity couldn’t make it onto the list unless that death toll was increased to add India’s 1.3 billion plus all of South America, plus Indonesia.  And that only would get us into the least-threatened category – “Vulnerable.”
If we were hoping that these categories were an exercise in alarmism, we are going to be disappointed.
What don’t we know?
Optimists and pessimists can both run a long way with the answer to this question. There is a lot that we don’t yet know.  In the last four years, the IUCN has added almost 21,000 new species to the Red List, an amazing feat in such a short time. While more than half of all known vertebrates have been assessed, the information is much spottier when we consider all living things: less than 4% of all known species have been evaluated. Invertebrates – particularly insects – figure prominently in this: Of the roughly one million known insect species, only 0.4% have been assessed. For spiders (arachnids), it’s even worse, with only 0.03% having been assessed.
Given the extensive work that’s already been done on vertebrates, we can extrapolate current knowledge to the entire set with some confidence. About one in five species is seriously threatened. But when we add the vast masses of plants and invertebrates, extrapolation gets more dicey. About 31% of all assessed living species are threatened. But what about the remaining 96% that haven’t yet been assessed? Until researchers whittle that figure down, none will confidently make projections for the entire range of living things. But this much we do know: The familiar animals we know – excluding creatures like insects, spiders, corals, anemones and mollusks – are in serious decline under our stewardship.
Why should we care?
The IUCN goes on at some length about the numbers of threatened species which are used by people for food and medicine. Surprisingly, we learn that humans use almost 300 species of amphibians for these purposes, plus 22% of all mammals, and 14% of all birds. They tell us that a much greater proportion of human-used species are threatened than other species.
Golden toad: 1st climate change extinction?
I – for one – am left wondering if this approach does much to answer the question.  The utility of species can hardly be considered in isolation, as though some contribute to human interests and some don’t.  Rather, species are always part of ecosystems, complex symbiotic webs which we upset at our peril. As an example, 39% of the world’s hundreds of coral species are threatened. If they become extinct, we may perhaps regret the disappearance of beautiful coral reefs; we may tally the loss of tourism income at tropical resorts; and in the longer term, we may fret about the exposure of coasts no longer protected by barrier reefs. But surely, this approach fails to capture the vital role corals play in maintaining ecosystems teeming with plants, shellfish, anemones, plankton, herbivores and predatory fishes – often called the nurseries of the oceans. If corals die, as seems increasingly likely, I doubt any of us can confidently measure the consequences for the world’s oceans, and for humanity.
Perhaps Holy Scripture gives us a clearer way of thinking.  Genesis tells us that God created “every living and moving thing with which the water teems, according to their kinds, and every winged bird according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. God blessed them and said, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the water in the seas, and let the birds increase on the earth.’”
We see in this account the pleasure God finds in each of his creatures, the sense that they are good, and that they should fill the seas, the land and the air. It’s unlikely that the ancient Hebrew writers fully understood the complexities of natural ecosystems. But they knew that God intended for his creatures to flourish. And they would recognize today’s threatened state of many of his species as fundamentally out of synch with God’s creative purposes. 
Yes, living species provide us with food, medicine, and countless other benefits. But they also play unseen roles in balancing ecosystems upon which we rely. And in the final analysis, their Creator – and ours – demands that we commit ourselves to the kind of world in which they can flourish for his pleasure.
 
Thanks for reading, and may God bless you.
 
J. Elwood

Are We In the Sixth Mass Extinction?

A few months ago, we read about the passing of Lonesome George. No one knew for sure, but he was thought to be around 100 years old. This much is certain: There will never be another one like him.

That’s because Lonesome George was the last of his species, the Pinta giant tortoise. They are now extinct, gone forever. Tens of thousands of George’s forbears used to roam on tiny Pinta Island in the Galapagos chain. But generations of sailors and hunters decimated them for meat on sea voyages, and ship-borne goats ravaged their feeding grounds. In the end, there was only Lonesome George, tended by researchers who clung to the hope that he would mate with females from other giant tortoise species. 

No such luck. George is gone, and with him, his race. We can cross off another of God’s species from the list.
Lonesome George: The last of his kind
A pity, no doubt. But this can’t be that big a deal, right? After all, can you even name more than a few species to have died off in the modern era? The dodo, a flightless bird eaten by hungry sailors on Mauritius.  And the once-ubiquitous passenger pigeon, consumed in mass quantities by Americans in the 19th century. Any others? Wasn’t there an obscure golden toad a few years ago?
If you’re like me, you’ve had a hard time ginning up much concern, given the minimal exposure we’ve had to extinction. So this will probably come as a shock to you, as it did to me: Many highly-respected scientific associations tell us that we are now in the midst of a global mass extinction, like the one that ended the reign of the dinosaurs. 
Scientists tell us that there have been five mass extinction events in earth’s history. The first occurred more than 400 million years ago, and brought to an end the Ordivician Period, with its ten-foot-long predatory mollusks, ancestors to today’s nautilus. We’re told that sixty percent of all species worldwide were exterminated.  And the most recent extinction brought down the curtain on the Cretaceous Period – dooming the dinosaurs and virtually all large land animals – some 65 million years ago.  In between, the earth lost 80-95% of all marine creatures at the end of the Permian Period, a time so lethal to living creatures that it’s called “the Great Dying.”
The first thing that comes to mind in such times is the death of land creatures, but the effect on marine life was catastrophic in each instance. Oceans warmed or cooled, sea levels rose or fell, CO2 concentrations increased in the atmosphere, and ocean acidity rose to levels beyond the tolerance of marine life. And always, coral reefs died en masse, and did not recover for millions of years. 
But with such events coming along only every fifty million years or so, what’s the worry? Getting struck by lightning is no fun either, but given the odds, we don’t fret too much. In this instance, that would be a mistake. The next Great Dying has already begun, and human fingerprints are all over it. 
It’s a shame that so few have paid attention, but researchers are following the Great Dying as it unfolds. The International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) publishes an extinction score card called the “Red List” every four years.  The Red List (or Red List of Threatened Species) analyzes the status of 44,838 animal and plant species worldwide. The statistics are alarming. Actual extinctions to date are – perhaps – not so bad: 869 species are known to have vanished in our era. But there are another 16,928 species that are threatened with extinction, and another 3,796 species on the bubble. Together, they comprise more than 46 percent of all plant and animal species assessed by the IUCN, and they outnumber by far the species that the IUCN deems to be healthy, or “least concern.”
IUCN 2008 Red List
More ominously, the Red List has only scratched the surface of the earth’s living species. For every one of the species evaluated in the Red List, there are another 44 known species waiting to be assessed. And the approximately two million known species on earth are widely thought to be outnumbered around 4-to-1 by species yet to be discovered and described. Bottom line? For each Red List assessed species, there are likely another 150 species whose threat status is known today to no one.
The Red List trends give us an idea of where we’re headed, if humans don’t act decisively, and soon. In the most recent report, the threat status of 187 species of mammals had deteriorated from four years earlier; only 37 saw improvements. For birds, 30 species were more threatened than before; only two improved. For amphibians, the ratio was 7-to-1.
With almost half of all assessed living species threatened with extinction, how could things possibly get worse? Well, it turns out that things could get a lot worse – and they are. That’s because we’re adding climate change and its “evil twin” – ocean acidification – into the mix.
The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) concludes that approximately 20-30% of plant and animal species will be at high risk of extinction as global mean temperatures exceed warming of 2-3oC above preindustrial levels.  Another synthesis study predicts 15-37% “commitment to extinction” (passing the point of no return) by 2050. And if we fail to act on climate change during the next fifty years, then as many as 70% of living species could well vanish.
It’s important to note that the projected climate contribution to extinction is, in many cases, above and beyond the ongoing pace of dying identified by the Red List.There is, of course, a term for all this: Mass Extinction Event.

Against this backdrop, two biblical narratives stand out which may direct God’s people. First, in Genesis 2, we read that God placed the man he had created in his perfect garden “to work it and take care of it.” From the beginning of the Bible, man’s purpose was to care for all the things God had made.  And over time, as the earth filled with violence and corruption, we read in Genesis 6 that God instructed another man to build an ark to protect the lives of “every kind of bird, every kind of animal and every kind of creature that moves along the ground,” in the face of looming catastrophe. Christians can hardly take the Bible seriously – however we interpret these texts – without also seeing our God-given responsibility for all creatures, and his care for each of them.
And for those of other faiths, or none at all, it is worthwhile noting something else. In each of the prior five mass extinction events, vast numbers of species of plants and animals perished. But in each case, the dominant species at the top of the food chain was not spared either. They perished along with the smallest things. In our day, that would be you and I, or our children and grandchildren.
In the coming posts, we will be taking a closer look at extinction threats and conservation efforts, including the following:
  • Detailed stories from the Red List: Who’s most at risk, and why? How threatened are they?
  • How does climate change contribute to the risk that species will vanish forever?
  • A close-up look at climate-driven species decline on a tiny island off the coast of Washington.
  • Dying reefs: Why corals died then; why now; and why it matters.
  • How much longer for the Great Barrier Reef? And what happened to the Caribbean?
  • How bad is ocean acidification? What does it harm? What can we do to stop it?
  • What caused prior mass extinctions? Any parallels for us?
  • Species conservation: How can you and I “take care of the garden?”
I hope you benefit from these coming posts. It’s taken most of my life for me to hear the call to seriously care for God’s other creatures. Maybe this exercise will help motivate us to take seriously this most basic element of our created purpose as humans.
Thanks for reading, and may God bless you.
J. Elwood