
The 21st Century is Caribou Century
By Dr. James Schaefer, Associate Professor of Biology, Trent University, Peterborough, Ontario
In 2007, our attention is turning, once again, to caribou. Jasper National Park will be celebrating its Centennial and, to honour the Park and its natural wealth of plants and animals, a collection of artwork will be showcased – with caribou as its theme. “Tuktu Prayers” invites Canadians to think about National Parks and the need to maintain wild spaces, including caribou.
At first glance, all the attention devoted to caribou seems surprising, given that most people have never seen caribou in the wild. But this animal is one of our cherished symbols, and to many people, the essence of wilderness. Archeological evidence from 25,000 years ago in Europe indicate that humans have had a closer relationship with caribou than any other wild animal. This kinship has endured, especially in the North. The species adorns our 25¢ piece.
Art shows, scientific meetings, and more acute incidents – like headlines about the shooting of Labrador caribou – tend to sharpen our focus on the plight of caribou. But unbeknownst to most Canadians, many mountain and woodland caribou populations are disappearing with little notice. These shy and secretive creatures, icons of boreal forests from Labrador to Yukon, are in trouble.
Caribou invite us to consider the past. We can look back to the time of our great-grandparents and see that the species was once widespread in our forests, and they lived surprisingly far south. During the 19th century, all of the Maritime Provinces and several US states (Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Wisconsin, and Minnesota) were inhabited by caribou. Half of the range of woodland caribou and mountain caribou has been lost – a long and disturbing diminuendo, largely unheard.
The magnitude of this loss is telling. In Ontario, for example, caribou have been systematically disappearing for more than a century, a northward range recession of 34 kilometres every decade, an area equivalent to Prince Edward Island every 11⁄2 years. Biologists call it a crisis in slow motion.
There is no doubt that we are the root cause of these changes. The decline of woodland and mountain caribou has resulted primarily from our actions and desires, albeit unintentionally, for resources from the forest. We do not yet fully understand why, but these caribou thrive only in large and intact tracts of forest, away from human intrusions. Of course, we want to continue to benefit from resource extraction and conserve this species. Finding a solution to these competing desires may be our most formidable conservation challenge.
What about the future? I estimated recently that, if trends continue, woodland caribou will virtually vanish from Ontario by the end of the century. Only a few, scattered, remnant populations are likely to survive. Other jurisdictions are not dissimilar. In Alberta, the majority of herds are declining and the extinction of caribou has been projected to occur within the next four decades.
Should we care? For some, caribou will simply be too costly to keep as part of our environmental "portfolio". But let me paraphrase the renowned biologist, E.O. Wilson. Their disappearance affects us profoundly – it is because we know this species and we know it well. We have watched and admired caribou, we have hunted them, we have painted and photographed them, we have celebrated their arrival. Caribou entered our legends and, even into the 20th century, the survival of people was dependent on them. Caribou survival now depends on us. Our decision – like our reaction to the shooting of Labrador caribou two years ago – is fundamentally an ethical one.
Because of their wide-ranging habits, their association with old forests, their need for vast spaces, caribou also invite us to think large – beyond the here and now, beyond personal and immediate gratification – to consider other living things, other people, other generations. These days, a typical "long-term" resource management plan is 20 years. Let us think larger and work toward a century plan for our northern forests. One question will guide us: When our grandchildren retire, what kind of environment do we wish for them?
Caribou invite us to be optimistic. If we succeed at conserving caribou, then we enhance the chances of persistence of other species and the healthy functioning of ecosystems. Biologists call such species an "indicator" and "umbrella". Our successes may even be broader. Because our greatest concerns as a society are intertwined, we are also more likely to succeed at a whole constellation of other challenges – social, economic, as well as environmental. Caribou give us reason to hope. Let them be a gauge of our success at a sustainable future. This is why the 21st century is Caribou Century.