Direct Engagement ///
One of the more compelling contributions inaturalist observations are making to science is in the discovery of species new to particular areas. One such finding — the first-ever sighting in Canada of the paintedhand mudbug (Lacunicambarus polychromatus), a burrowing crayfish — was documented in the journal The Canadian FieldNaturalist last fall. And it’s a story with a twist.
It began with Colin Jones, provincial arthropod zoologist at the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry’s Natural Heritage Information Centre, uploading to inaturalist a photo of a crayfish found on the Ojibway Prairie Nature Reserve in Windsor, Ont. Jones identified it as a species common to the province. Several months later, however, a biologist at Ohio State University, Mael Glon, reviewed the entry and determined it was actually a paintedhand mudbug, which is common farther south. Jones and Glon did some follow-up fieldwork, found two more specimens and then published their findings.
“Had it not been for inaturalist, [this species’] presence may have remained undetected,” they wrote, describing the site as “a platform that has greatly increased the ability of amateurs and experts to collaborate in real time.” Their paper also revealed other first-time Canadian discoveries on inaturalist — 40 species of moths not known in Ontario, 19 of which are new to Canada, and even one new to North America. They also discuss one as a “new and potentially invasive vascular plant species” called small-flowered jewelweed (Impatiens parviflora de Candolle).
Although collaboration does go on, amateurs posting individual observations to inaturalist don’t typically have the same involvement in the scientific process that Jones, as an expert, experienced. Usually, beyond the ID confirmation, any involvement in subsequent research linked to their data is more passive and one-way. This differs from more “traditional” purpose-built citizen science projects where the participants volunteer or enrol to do specific research.
In such cases, the citizen scientists typically have greater interaction with the professionals running the projects and sometimes with other amateur participants like themselves. And the array of projects and applications that surfaces is almost as diverse as nature itself: snorkellers in Hawaii reporting signs of coral bleaching via app to a researcher leading a real-time response team to limit reef damage; landscape ecologists in multiple locations asking drivers to submit location-linked roadkill photographs to help map dangerous “hot spots,” data that can be used to lobby for protective barriers; resources officials on Vancouver Island training the local public to collect and test water samples in small streams to monitor land use impacts on water quality; and, one that Pocock ran in the U.K., using volunteers to detect the presence and distribution of tree pests by having them collect infected leaves in plastic bags and monitoring larvae hatch rates.
This remarkable scope underscores Pocock’s view that citizen science is a “range of approaches” rather than “a thing.” It also highlights some of its other most valuable attributes in addition to the scientific findings themselves.
“For the people involved in these projects, who are contributing data, it has many, many potential benefits,” says Pocock — “learning opportunities, community-building opportunities and even behavioural change.”
The latter can be valuable when it comes to confronting issues like climate change and threats to biodiversity.
“If we’re to mitigate some of those things,” Pocock says, “surely it will require a bit of a cost from us in terms of changing behaviour as individuals. And so, one of the ways
I think [citizen science] can be really beneficial is for people to be directly engaging with these things to develop that sense of care.”
Georgetown’s Ries refers to this as “the transformative power” of citizen science. “There’s actually been research showing that people who do citizen science on monarchs are then also more likely to contribute and become involved in monarch conservation.” It’s not the species, but the citizen science model, that counts, she says. “It makes people more engaged .... They’re contributing to science in a way that gives them some ownership over the data.”
Ries adds that this “transformative power” cuts both ways. “It’s transformative for scientists [too], because we can ask questions at larger scales. It also changes the way we think about collecting data, about interacting with the public.”
Spark new discoveries, track environmental hazards, measure change, support policy, inform action, advocate for environmental justice… that is the potential of citizen science