Wildlife

Birdsong is a welcome sign of spring, but robins and cardinals aren’t the only birds showing off for breeding season. In many parts of North America, you’re likely to encounter male wild turkeys, puffed up like beach balls and with their tails fanned out, aggressively strutting through woods and parks or stopping traffic on your street. Wild turkeys were abundant across North America when European settlers arrived. But people killed them indiscriminately year-round – sometimes for their meat and feathers, but settlers also took turkey eggs from nests and poisoned adult turkeys to keep them from damaging crops. Thanks to this unregulated killing and habitat loss, by 1900 wild turkeys had disappeared from much of their historical range. Turkey populations gradually recovered over the 20th century, aided by regulation, conservation funding and state restoration programs. By the early 2000s, they could be found in Mexico, Canada and every U.S. state except Alask...

Montanans know spring has officially arrived when grizzly bears emerge from their dens. But unlike the bears, the contentious debate over their future never hibernates. New research from my lab reveals how people’s social identities and the dynamics between social groups may play a larger role in these debates than even the animals themselves. Social scientists like me work to understand the human dimensions behind wildlife conservation and management. There’s a cliché among wildlife biologists that wildlife management is really people management, and they’re right. My research seeks to understand the psychological and social factors that underlie pressing environmental challenges. It is from this perspective that my team sought to understand how Montanans think about grizzly bears. To list or delist, that is the question In 1975, the grizzly bear was listed as threatened under the Endangered Species Act following decades of extermination efforts and habi...

Wetlands have flourished along the world’s coastlines for thousands of years, playing valuable roles in the lives of people and wildlife. They protect the land from storm surge, stop seawater from contaminating drinking water supplies, and create habitat for birds, fish and threatened species. Much of that may be gone in a matter of decades. As the planet warms, sea level rises at an ever-faster rate. Wetlands have generally kept pace by building upward and creeping inland a few meters per year. But raised roadbeds, cities, farms and increasing land elevation can leave wetlands with nowhere to go. Sea-level rise projections for midcentury suggest the waterline will be shifting 15 to 100 times faster than wetland migration has been clocked. Many wetlands, like these on Cape Cod, are now bordered by human infrastructure, including towns and roads. Lance Cheung/USDA I have been studying coastal g...

One of the biggest privileges of being a primatologist is spending time in remote locations with monkeys and apes, living near these animals in their habitats and experiencing their daily lives. As a 21st-century human, I have an immediate impulse to take pictures of these encounters and share them on social media. Social media can help scientists raise awareness of the species we study, promote their conservation and obtain jobs and research funding. However, sharing images of wild animals online can also contribute to illegal animal trafficking and harmful human-wildlife interactions. For endangered or threatened species, this attention can put them at further risk. My research seeks to find ways for scientists and conservationists to harness the power of social media while avoiding its pitfalls. My colleague, ecologist and science communicator Cathryn Freund, and I think we have some answers. In our view, wildlife professionals should never include themselves in pictures wi...

Wet snow pelts my face and pulls against my skis as I climb above 8,000 feet in the Sierra Nevada of eastern California, tugging a sled loaded with batteries, bolts, wire and 40 pounds of sunflower seeds critical to our mountain chickadee research. As we reach the remote research site, I duck under a tarp and open a laptop. A chorus of identification numbers are shouted back and forth as fellow behavioral ecologist Vladimir Pravosudov and I program “smart” bird feeders for an upcoming experiment. I have spent the past six years monitoring a population of mountain chickadees here, tracking their life cycles and, importantly, their memory, working in a system Pravosudov established in 2013. The long, consistent record from this research site has allowed us to observe how chickadees survive in extreme winter snowfall and to identify ecological patterns and changes. Snow piles up on the experiment’s bird feeders. Each chic...