Wildlife on earth is disappearing. In the last century, Hundreds of weird and wonderful species went the way
of the dodo. Today, over 20,000 more species are at risk of dying out,
but we simply don't have the time or resources to rescue them all. It's a tough situation,
but not a unique one – military medics, first responders, and ER workers regularly
make decisions like these, and a medical triage-like approach could help us decide which species
to save first. For example, we could prioritize those who
need help stat!, like the last 60 wild Javan rhinos teetering on the edge of extinction.
Alternatively, we could take a kind of save-the-president-first approach and focus on species vital to entire
ecosystems, like mangroves, whose groves support over a thousand species or otters, whose urchin-eating
keeps kelp forests healthy. Or, we could prioritize patients that have the best and cheapest chance
of long-term survival; New Zealand's Maud Island frogs, for example, could be rescued
from their invasive nemeses for the cost of keeping a panda alive in captivity for about
half a year. But so far, conservation decisions haven’t
been so calculated. For instance, giant pandas aren’t nearly as rare as Javan rhinos or
as critical to their ecosystems as otters and mangroves. Plus, they’re such reluctant
breeders and their bamboo forests are so fragmented that saving them has already required billions
of dollars and may mean keeping the species on permanent life support.
And yet these fuzzy-wuzzy bundles of cuteness pull at our heartstrings - and our wallets.
As the literal faces of conservation, pandas pull in big bucks for wildlife protection.
And they do share – a little. Money raised by the World Wildlife Fund does go to dozens
of conservation projects, but the majority of campaigns fronted by pandas or other charismatic
creatures are solely devoted to saving their symbolic species.
What’s more, keeping the spotlight focused on the plight of a few celebrities means the
demise of species with homelier faces - or no faces at all ... you’ve probably never
seen a campaign to save the the stinking cedar or the pygmy hog-sucking louse. But unlike
the celebrities, underdog species like these are often ideal triage candidates: they can
be simpler to resuscitate, less expensive to protect, and vital to their ecosystems
- their only flaw is inferior cuteness. Should we really let appearances decide who lives
and who dies, or should we take a more rational approach? The tradeoff is this: thinking rationally
when it comes to saving species may mean asking ourselves whether a world without pandas is
something we can bear.
we can bear.