Scientist under attack after he kills bird that

took decades to find

Case of the moustached kingfisher pits those who think collecting can save a species against those
who believe we should never kill rare animals
Sarah Kaplan and Justin Wm Moyer for the Washington Post
Saturday 17 October 2015 10.00BST

or Christopher Filardi of the American Museum of Natural History, there is nothing like
the thrill of finding a mysterious species. Such animals live at the intersection of myth
and biology tantalising researchers with the prospect that they may be real, but
eluding trustworthy documentation and closer study. Indeed, last month, Filardi waxed
poetic on the hunt for the invisible beasts that none the less walk among us.
We search for them in earnest but they are seemingly beyond detection except by proxy
and story, he wrote. They are ghosts, until they reveal themselves in a thrilling moment
of clarity and then they are gone again. Maybe for another day, maybe a year, maybe a
century.
Filardi was moved because, scouring what he called the remote highlands of Guadalcanal
in the Solomon Islands, he had found a bird he had searched more than two decades for:
the moustached kingfisher.
Described by a single female specimen in the 1920s, two more females brought to
collectors by local hunters in the early 1950s, and only glimpsed in the wild once, he
wrote. Scientists have never observed a male. Its voice and habits are poorly known.
Given its history of eluding detection, realistic hopes of finding the bird were slim.
Yet, defying the odds, Filardi did just that.
After setting mist nets across the forest, he and his team secured a male specimen with a
magnificent all-blue back and a bright orange face. The discovery brought quite the
declaration Oh my god, the kingfisher and led Filardi to liken it to a creature of myth
come to life. And then, Filardi killed it or, in the parlance of scientists, collected it.
This wasnt trophy hunting but outrage ensued.
Of course, collect means killed, a lame attempt to sanitise the totally unnecessary killing
of this remarkable sentient being, Marc Bekoff, professor emeritus of ecology and
evolutionary biology at the University of Colorado, wrote in the Huffington Post. When

will the killing of other animals stop? We need to give this question serious consideration
because far too much research and conservation biology is far too bloody and does not need
to be.
The controversy led Audubon which had previously published a piece innocently titled
Moustached Kingfisher Photographed for First Time to add quite the editors note.
This story has been updated to clarify that the bird was euthanised and the specimen
collected, Audubon wrote. A researcher on Filardis team, it added, told Audubon that
they assessed the state of the population and the state of the habitat, and concluded it was
substantial and healthy enough that taking the specimen the only male ever observed by
science would not affect the populations success.
Still, to some, finding something only to kill it just seemed twisted.
These were, indeed, the first-ever photos of the male moustached kingfisher alive, wrote
blogger Chris Matyszczyk at CNET. It didnt live much longer.
Filardi was also compelled to write an op-ed for Audubon: Why I Collected a Moustached
Kingfisher.
I have spent time in remote, and not so remote, forests of the Solomon Islands across
nearly 20 years, he wrote. I have watched whole populations of birds decline and
disappear in the wake of poorly managed logging operations and, more recently mining. On
this trip, the real discovery was not finding an individual Moustached Kingfisher, but
discovering that the world this species inhabits is still thriving in a rich and timeless way.
Filardi stressed that, among Guadalcanal locals, the bird is known to be unremarkably
common. He explained how he and his team made the decision neither an easy decision
nor one made in the spur of the moment to collect the bird with reference to standard
practice for field biologists. And he said that killing one kingfisher might help save them
all.
I have come to know, through firsthand experience, how specimens and other artefacts in
museums can over time become sacred, he wrote. I have watched sparks ignite in the
eyes of Pacific Islanders holding specimens of extinct species doomed by habitat loss,
invasive species or disease. I have watched my friends, my colleagues those I work both
for and with go home and out into the world and make a difference. These moments drive
my work. Through a vision shared with my Solomon Island mentors ... the Moustached
Kingfisher I collected is a symbol of hope and a purveyor of possibility, not a record of
loss.
But was he right?
Wildlife experts have been debating that question for more than 100 years ever since they
first noticed that the colourful and charismatic species they wanted to document had
begun to vanish. The pro-collection camp says that the practice requires the death of only a

few individuals and may provide knowledge that helps to ensure the survival of the overall
species. The voucher specimen a representative specimen used for studies is
considered the gold standard for documenting a species presence: its the most definitive
way to confirm that an animal exists and serves as the basis for all kinds of research on its
health and habitat.
But opponents point out that history is littered with the stuffed and mounted carcasses of
animals that were the last of their kind, bagged by overzealous collectors who didnt stop to
consider the cost of the kill.
In collectings heyday, bagging a rare species was a point of pride for naturalists, and
wealthy wildlife lovers amassed taxidermied animals the way another person might
accumulate art. Famous scientists like Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace collected
and preserved hundreds, thousands, even tens of thousands of specimens most of which
served a vital role in making new species known to science. But collectors, who travelled to
the worlds most remote regions in search of as-yet-unknown animals, also had an Indiana
Jones-like swagger.
Competition to find something first was fierce, and institutions vying for new and exotic
specimens meant that dozens of researchers would go tramping up mountains and into
jungles to kill the same animal.
Among the most famous victims of this is the great auk, a now-extinct North Atlantic bird
with a penguins tuxedo-like plumage and ungainly waddle (but not much of its DNA auks
are only distantly related to their Southern Hemisphere cousins).
The species was already teetering on the brink when naturalists and museums took an
interest in it in the 19th century. Climate change during the northern hemispheres severalcentury cool spell known as the little ice age had decimated the population. Humans
then finished the job. The birds stood nearly a metre tall and sported thick, plumage,
making them a valuable food source and even more valuable commercial product. And its
clumsiness on land (and inability to fly) made it an easy target for hunters.
Paradoxically, it was the great auks sudden rarity that made scientists so eager to kill
them. According to the Smithsonian, the great auks classification as endangered in 1775
led to increased demand for specimens a single bird could be sold for $16 in the early
1800s, a full years wages. No longer hunted for its meat and down, the great auk and its
eggs became a target for their scientific value. In 1844, a group of fishermen caught two of
the birds on a remote island off the Icelandic coast. They were sold to a chemist in
Reykjavik, who stuffed and mounted the birds, then preserved their eyes and internal
organs like pickles in jars of alcohol. No one on record has seen one of the huge, black-andwhite birds since.
This anecdote was cited in a controversial article for the journal Science last spring. Under
the headline Avoiding (Re)extinction, four biologists cautioned against collection of rare
species. The practice can magnify the extinction risk for small and often isolated
populations, the authors wrote, encouraging alternative forms of documentation like DNA

samples, photographs and sound recordings.

Ben Minteer, an ethicist at Arizona State Universitys school of life sciences and the lead
author of the article, told NPR that he doesnt think scientific collecting is a leading driver
of extinction there would have to be millions of researchers bagging birds every day to
match the job that climate change, habitat destruction and over-exploitation have done on
at-risk populations. But in cases where a species is near extinction, a few deaths in the
name of science can have a major impact on the overall population, he said, and stricter
codes on what species can be collected are necessary.
Its one thing for a community to say, Look, we have a code of ethics, we abide by it, no
responsible biologist would ever do this, he said in 2014. You know, we think that those
are all good things and good statements but its harder to actually create a sort of ethical
culture in the field when no ones looking - when no ones watching.
The article raised the hackles of many in the scientific community. In the next months
issue of Science, more than 100 biologists signed multiple response letters in defence of
collecting.
Our goal should be to document biodiversity and rigorously as possible through carefully
planned collections so that it can be effectively preserved and understood, one letter read.
Specimens from such collections and their associated data are essential for making
informed decisions about management and conservation now and in the future.
The letter pointed out that species collections can lead to unexpected findings famously,
a discovery that recent eggshells were thinner than older ones at a British museum alerted
Europeans to the dangers of DDT in the 1960s and that scientists have come a long way
from the indiscriminate collecting practices of the 19th century, supporters of collecting
argue. Now, researchers must get approval and permits to collect before they even go out in
the field. Each request is evaluated based on the distinctiveness of the find and rarity of the
species. If a species is unknown to science, or if there arent other good museum specimens
in existence, then killing and preserving an individual might be the best way to learn more
about it.
This, Filardi argues, was the case with the moustached kingfisher. Until now, there were
only three specimens in existence, and all of them were female. A modern, male sample
will improve scientists understanding of the species and its changing environment, he
said.
It might also galvanise support for efforts to protect the kingfishers island home. Speaking
to Scientific American, Filardi said that mining and logging threaten the mountains where
the elusive blue-and-yellow birds live, as does climate change. We still have the potential
to steward this big sky island and preserve all of its richness, he said, but only if
conservationists and local governments work out ways to negotiate those threats.
For years, western scientists have referred to the kingfisher as a ghost species because
theyve never been able to spot it. But Filardi estimated that thousands of pairs remain in

Guadalcanal. The species is not dead yet, he said. It wont become a ghost unless we let it.
This article appeared in Guardian Weekly, which incorporates material from the Washington
Post
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