Monday, September 11, 2006
Crikey! It's a Jungle Out There
First, up front, I am a big fan of wildlife and its preservation, and I also regret the death of Steve Irwin.
But, at the same time, I feel compelled to raise the question about the legacies of people, like Irwin and Timothy "Grizzly Man" Treadwell, who claim to be wildlife conservationists. I don't doubt their sincerity, just their methods (and motivations). They both seem to have forgotten one essential fact about their beloved wildlife: They are, first and foremost, wild.
Irwin presented wildlife more as a carnival sideshow than an intriguing part of nature, and he was the star, not so much the animals. Treadwell was even worse; in the documentary film Grizzly Man at least, the beach-bum/surfer-turned-conservationist came off as a naive little twit who somehow thought he could "bond" with grizzly bears by living among them during the summers (thus protecting them from poachers).
It was a noble undertaking, I suppose, but he overlooked a crucial and undeniable fact: If you intend to live among grizzly bears, you damn sure better be a grizzly bear. He wasn't. The grizzlies knew that, despite Treadwell's adamant belief that they were his friends (he even named them, for God's sake), and one morning a hungry bear recognized that Treadwell and his female companion looked more like breakfast than blood brothers (and sister).
The fact that Irwin didn't succumb to one of the creatures he famously (and there's the key word) wrestled and rode around on like amusement park rides was sheer happenstance. If that manta ray hadn't got him, a croc or venomous snake eventually would have.
We should fear that the legacy of Irwin and Treadwell and their ilk among modern wildlife "conservationists" (even Dian Fossey, though her demise came at the hands of creatures of the human variety, not the gorillas) is that future generations will think of wild animals as toys and/or our bosom buddies. They are neither. In this regard, Irwin, Treadwell, and company may have set back the cause of wildlife conservation at least two decades.
The first law of the jungle was, is, and will always be that the only ones who belong there are those who were born there and instinctively know what the deal is, kill or be killed. Humans who don't get that shouldn't try to pretend that they can forge their own place in there (with movie and TV cameras rolling). They should do their admiring and conserving -- which is only natural and indeed admirable -- from a safe distance. They do make telephoto lenses, you know.
But, at the same time, I feel compelled to raise the question about the legacies of people, like Irwin and Timothy "Grizzly Man" Treadwell, who claim to be wildlife conservationists. I don't doubt their sincerity, just their methods (and motivations). They both seem to have forgotten one essential fact about their beloved wildlife: They are, first and foremost, wild.
Irwin presented wildlife more as a carnival sideshow than an intriguing part of nature, and he was the star, not so much the animals. Treadwell was even worse; in the documentary film Grizzly Man at least, the beach-bum/surfer-turned-conservationist came off as a naive little twit who somehow thought he could "bond" with grizzly bears by living among them during the summers (thus protecting them from poachers).
It was a noble undertaking, I suppose, but he overlooked a crucial and undeniable fact: If you intend to live among grizzly bears, you damn sure better be a grizzly bear. He wasn't. The grizzlies knew that, despite Treadwell's adamant belief that they were his friends (he even named them, for God's sake), and one morning a hungry bear recognized that Treadwell and his female companion looked more like breakfast than blood brothers (and sister).
The fact that Irwin didn't succumb to one of the creatures he famously (and there's the key word) wrestled and rode around on like amusement park rides was sheer happenstance. If that manta ray hadn't got him, a croc or venomous snake eventually would have.
We should fear that the legacy of Irwin and Treadwell and their ilk among modern wildlife "conservationists" (even Dian Fossey, though her demise came at the hands of creatures of the human variety, not the gorillas) is that future generations will think of wild animals as toys and/or our bosom buddies. They are neither. In this regard, Irwin, Treadwell, and company may have set back the cause of wildlife conservation at least two decades.
The first law of the jungle was, is, and will always be that the only ones who belong there are those who were born there and instinctively know what the deal is, kill or be killed. Humans who don't get that shouldn't try to pretend that they can forge their own place in there (with movie and TV cameras rolling). They should do their admiring and conserving -- which is only natural and indeed admirable -- from a safe distance. They do make telephoto lenses, you know.
