The problem with SPCA’s 1080 stance
It didn’t take long for the SPCA to face a backlash to its confusing comments opposing the use of 1080 poison. On its face, its view seems defensible. It is the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, after all, and death by poison is undeniably cruel. And unlike conservation groups, the SPCA’s goal isn’t to preserve ecosystems – it’s to stop humans inflicting pain upon animals.
But there’s a critical flaw in the SPCA’s argument which it has failed to reckon with, even after criticisms were raised, which risks damaging a cause the available evidence shows it should enthusiastically support.
The premise of the SPCA’s opposition to 1080 is that all animals are sentient, and considering one’s pain less important than another’s is wrong.
Many would agree with this statement, at least in theory (it doesn’t always work in practice: you can buy rat poison in the supermarket that causes far more suffering to the animal than 1080). It is a statement that happens to be a powerful argument for significantly increasing the use of 1080, not banning it.
The scale of suffering caused by predators, particularly mustelids, that were brought to New Zealand by humans is incalculable. Death by ingesting 1080 is indeed painful, but so too is being eaten alive by a predator you have no evolutionary means to escape from.
Introduced predators are estimated to kill around 25 million birds, chicks and eggs every year, not including the native snails and other invertebrates they eat.
The important context is that our forests, as they are today, are all but barren in comparison to what once existed.
Ka¯ ka¯ po¯ used to be among the most commonly found bird species on mainland New Zealand, but now there are none, because they can’t inhabit any space within reach of a stoat, and are therefore confined to offshore islands. Birds such as the laughing owl were once common, too, but no-one alive today has seen one, because they were eaten to extinction by predators.
Today, stoats kill up to 60 per cent of all kiwi chicks, which are too small to fight back. Stoats have been known to find nests and wait for chicks to hatch before eating them. In 2014, one stoat or ferret was deemed responsible for killing 29 little blue penguins, setting the population back years. A cat in 2015 single-handedly ate dozens of blackfronted tern chicks in a colony on the Acheron River.
One animal can kill hundreds of birds in a given year. It is not an even fight.
Even birds with a slight evolutionary advantage are not safe from predators. Rock wren live in alpine areas of the South Island, out of reach of a lot of predators, but are still on the brink of extinction due to predation. The rock wren’s closest relative, the bushwren, used to be common but has been extinct for half a century due to predation.
Even smaller animals can ruthlessly kill birds. On Gough Island in the southern Atlantic Ocean, millions of albatross chicks are killed each year by mice.
These examples serve a purpose, because in each case, 1080 has helped address the open slaughter of these birds.
Rock wren nesting success rates increased five-fold in areas where 1080 was dropped. The techniques developed by New Zealand researchers on the likes of Antipodes Island are being used to clear mice from Gough Island.
1080 will be vital in bringing ka¯ ka¯ po¯ back to the mainland, and has already been shown to boost kiwi populations.
There is no question that the greatest cause of animal suffering in New Zealand has been the introduction of predators by humans. For an organisation devoted to reducing such suffering, addressing this issue should be a matter of urgency.
There are a couple of ways to respond to this responsibility.
One is to try to right the wrongs of the previous generation, and attempt to undo even a fraction of the damage that was caused, by eliminating predators. The other is to accept the status quo and leave things be, and let nature take its course.
Many conservationists argue for the former, but there is some support for the latter. Both are legitimate points of view.
The SPCA has made up a mythical third position. In this fantasy, we can have it all. In its own words: ‘‘There should be greater emphasis on looking for solutions that would enable species who cannot be completely removed, to co-exist in the environment instead.’’ Translation: the occupants of the burning building should be able to co-exist with the flames at their feet.
There are, of course, smaller alternatives to humanely kill predators – traps, for example. Attempts to calculate how much it would cost to lay enough traps to control predators have produced eye-watering numbers.
In his book Protecting Paradise, journalist Dave Hansford details some of the likely costs involved. In Kahurangi National Park alone, the quantity of rat traps needed would cost $75 million. Some parts of the country are too steep to trap effectively. The total needed for the entire country would likely dwarf DOC’s annual budget.
If there are effective alternatives to 1080, they’re not apparent, and the SPCA certainly hasn’t named any. There is promise in new technologies, such as gene drives, but it will take some years before we know if they can be used safely, if at all. By then, many million more birds would have suffered tremendously.
In my time writing about environmental issues, I’ve spoken with many conservationists. I haven’t met one that loves 1080, or sees it as perfect. It is undeniably cruel to poison animals.
But in this case, not acting is itself a moral choice.
The SPCA argues that it values all animal life equally, but in opposing the only currently effective means to stop the carnage in our forests, it is saying the suffering of mammals is worse than the suffering of birds.
That carnage is a responsibility we all share, whether you think we should stop it or not. The SPCA is not exempt.
One animal can kill hundreds of birds in a given year. It is not an even fight.