Author Archives: R.C.

Posts by R.C.

NYC Water Supply: Downstate Stakeholder

Posted on December 2, 2012 by R.C.

As a downstate stakeholder of the New York City water supply shed, it would be imperative for the City to acquire certain properties upstate for the safety and sanitation of the water shed. The necessity to prevent the contamination or degradation of the water supply is vital to reliably provide clean and usable water to the metropolitan area. Furthermore, the campaign to utilize the Filtration Avoidance Determination condition would save all parties both time and resources to construct a filtration plant for the reservoirs, as per the Safe Water Treatment Rule.

The land acquisition program is fairly generous. It is done on a voluntary basis; only those who wish to offer their land for purchase (or a like agreement) are solicited. Numerous compensation techniques, included reduced taxation, are just, as assessed by market value and appraisal; even further financial mechanisms have been established to address certain issues. The power of eminent domain is withheld from being used for watershed land acquisition.

Should we forgo the option to take full advantage of the FAD, we would then be forced to establish a filtration plant. Such a facility would have costs in the billions, with millions more required for operating and maintenance expenses; both upstate and downstate stakeholders will surely suffer economically in order to foot the bill. Utilizing the FAD, lessor costs are required to maintain programs and land; in fact, most of the expenses are paid by the government, not the stakeholders.

Thus, I implore others to allow for the land acquisitions to continue. It would protect the water supplies of the acknowledged areas, the destruction or desecration of which would be severely detrimental to economy and health for both upstate and downstate stakeholders.

Pires, Mark. “Watershed protection for a world city: the case of New York.” Land Use Policy 21.2 (2004): 161-175.

Questions for Author Emma Marris

Posted on October 28, 2012 by R.C.

1. In the book, Marris suggested many different strategies in tackling the problems of current conservation problems. While it was made clear that a combination of techniques would be required to stabilize our world, which one would Marris prioritize first?

2. Green rooftops are one way New York metropolitans try to decrease the negative qualities of urbanization. That aside, what other “conservation everywhere” techniques would work in the hugely concrete Manhattan area?

3. How would Marris apply rewilding to the hugely urban New York City? Or should rewilding be focused more or less exclusively on less habited locations?

4. Given the mixture of human population, domestic pets, migratory species, scavengers and more that travel in and through New York City (and, by extension, many other cities), what would be a good designer goal to start at?

Post 10/7/12: Poster Questions

Posted on October 7, 2012 by R.C.

How have beekeeping policies affected biodiversity and flora patterns? How have bees themselves coped with the urban environment?

How has air traffic affected the migratory patterns of birds over New York City? To what extent is the disruption as significant as it is publicized?

What is the effect of high-rises on wildlife compared to smaller, low-story structures? To what extent do they significantly affect terrestrial species?

Post 10/3/12: Rambunctious Garden 10

Posted on October 3, 2012 by R.C.

As far as endings go, Marris’ last chapter in Rambunctious Garden was certainly a hodgepodge of ideas. However, they are admittedly more ambiguously biased than the previous ideas and chapters that she proposed. For everything from saving species to sustaining ecological services, each concept was presented, and then critiqued for their individual flaws. While it certainly put the tone of how ecology is being hotly debated now—that each and every suggestion is radical, impractical, unpredictable, or, in the best of cases, sensible—I believe that it also put a damper on the arguments that she spent the entirety of the book building up. Nevertheless, it perhaps underscored Marris’ own view of how the practice of ecology is doing in terms of the typically complex interaction between humans and human organizations and institutions.

On a different note, it seems as if Marris’ suggestions seemed too… broad. It may be the fact that they were merely suggestions and not yet implementable on the scale that she desired (pachyderms in America?). It is also probably the fact that many of the institutions and people that she did mention were still hashing out even basic or initial plans, likely having had to return to the drawing board a few times before (possibly) achieving any sort of compromise between ecologists, scientists, governments and/or other involved parties. Still, while she indeed mention with great detail the anthropological effects and occurrences on various ecosystems or ecological actions, the one absence that seemed to be quite glaring would be the urban-rural link. Yes, Marris did affirm the prospect of letting a lawn go unattended in chapter 9, to great biodiverse effects, but those scenarios are often of the suburban and rural kind; furthermore, everything from aesthetics to governmental regulations to land disputes make such a project rather difficult in its own right (not that I would mind being called a crazy old cat person). If she truly suggests a high-rise urban counterpart to a rambunctious landscape, though, that sort of contradicts the smooth ecosystemic transitions and connectivities that she had earlier implied. To that effect, she did not offer a solution to how that line would work itself out (nor did she offer a solution to predators of rewilding knocking at our doors, but that was another blog).

In all, the book provided an insight into the rather massy and ambiguous life of an ecologist. Unlike mathematics, where many of the concepts are hard facts, there was a serious lack of rights and wrongs, yeas and naes, just a really big gray area that worked beyond three dimensions. Whether we progress in ecological enlightenment fast enough to avoid some impending cataclysmic anthropologically made “natural” disaster (or biohazards… you never know if the zombie apocalypse is around the corner) may be the deciding factor of whether we can act soon enough at all. Alas, time goes on and the earth keeps spinning, whether we’re alive to see it or not.

Post 9/30/12: Rambunctious Garden 8, 9

Posted on September 30, 2012 by R.C.

The preceding chapters seem to be about shedding some light on misguided ecological presumptions about conservation and preservation. In chapters 8 and 9, however, Marris’ focus seems more shifted toward an economic standpoint. She emphasizes the point of utilizing every square acre, yard and feet for something, anything—from hosting wildlife to the growth of species pertaining to human value to simple aesthetics. For certain, humans are not putting every piece of inhabited or used land to its most efficient potential (irony in non-business economics for a heavily capitalistic society on this side of the hemisphere), and for reasons beyond ecology people are hesitant to accept some of the proposed changes (as perhaps too much of a city boy, I would prefer not to have bugs whizzing past every three streets, even as New York City opens its doors to beekeeping hobbyists). Yet, I would have to point out that her presumption of the rambunctious garden being healthier than the lawns we have now seems just as dangerous as the critics that she is trying to respond to. A rambunctious garden in the backyard is a real gamble; we do not know the migratory patterns, growth and attraction—heck, anything really—about what such a garden produce, as past ecological studies have shown about variables. Will we allow flora and fauna that will promote a nonvirulent ecosystem, or are we going to condemn a block full of houses because of some outbreak of something or other? Nature is funny that way; just because things work out in the end doesn’t mean it will work out in the short run or the interim.

Nevertheless, Marris’ economics-based ideas of what natural processes—catalyzed by anthropological means or otherwise—are convincing. They are not necessarily nitty-gritty, to-the-numbers convincing (thankfully, or this book would be more of an accounting balance page or a congressional bill than a pleasantly argumentative book), but she is eloquent in tying the money-saving potentials to her aforementioned ideas of rewilding and assisted migration. While it may not be as interesting for the scientists, it would certainly whet the eyes of the fat cats out there, who would subsequently assist the scientists in their field of work (and maybe make a pretty penny out of it). If money makes the world go round, we might as well use it as a tool to get people noticing the environment, no?

I am personally wary—or maybe petrified—by the idea of wild gardens on every patch of green in New York City. Perhaps they are mentally overdramatized (it’s not like there will be four-foot blades and territorial mammals hissing from the bushes, right?), but the balance seems… difficult to achieve. While the story of Seattle’s plagued river still being able to host fish and flora is an upbeat and bright one, it will take a little more convincing to let the small lots along Park Avenue grow into an active ecosystem (and I use the work active in the more literal sense, then it is probably implied, since insects and birds probably already use them as landing pads). Am I taking her ambitious tone too literally? I wouldn’t discount the notion. Alas, one of the many weaknesses of being a city folk.

Post 9/27/12: Rambunctious Garden 6, 7

Posted on September 27, 2012 by R.C.

As I continue to peruse Rambunctious Garden, it seems like more of my (perhaps shallow) presumptions about conservation are being increasingly challenged with common sense. And that, in truth, makes sense, as propaganda has often been biased and seen through rose-colored lenses. Marris’ arguments about exotic species and novel ecosystems, for instance, make sense, because they delve into the intricacies of the data rather than derive from blanket statements so easily acknowledged for their simplicity. I’ve probably said something along those lines in prior blogs, but that is honestly how I feel about these chapters.

How invasive species affect ecosystems is about as predictable as mid-run meteorology (as in it is simply unpredictable). Like Marris said, the concept of rewilding is somewhere along this line of invasion, yet it shows some practical promise (as well as a larger amount of theoretical promise). Assisted migration can also be considered to be invasive, yet with sufficient forethought and research, potential consequences from the movement may be mitigated. The term “invasive species” in itself has probably put a bad reputation to such foreigners; hopefully scientists will exchange that term for a friendlier nom de plume.

However, I do have one critique about Marris’ ideas about the novel ecosystem. Because the “invasiveness” of a species is a case-by-case dilemma (is it directly causing the endangerment of a species, for instance), would that not be reason for more mitigation of funds into individual environments? (Whether it is more efficient than current preservation techniques is up for discussion, but the ambiguity is there.) It should be no surprise in the number and diversity of ecosystems that exists, especially in isolated areas such as islands and lakes, apparently. Thus, each area would have to be at least cursorily studied to examine the effects of nonnative species. It just seems like there is potential to throw more money into an already risky investment, good cause it may be.

Nevertheless, Marris is correct in her assessment. Her statements regarding actually dangerous invasive species in a bit more muted than I would have liked, but for the sake of her argument to defend them it may have been a better choice to reduce some of the more incendiary rebuttals. Indeed, we as humans who created the anthropocene era must account for the natural ecosystems as well as novel ones (since technically all ecosystems are novel anyway), though I would hazard to guess that finding that balance between which species to keep and which to remove will be a murky battleground for years to come, especially if virulence of a species is actually considered. That war is probably happening now, as is shown in Ariel Lugo’s battle with The Nature Conservancy about the nonnative Leucaena trees in the Virgin Islands. Only time and awareness will tell what scientists will do. (Interestingly absent from the book as of yet is the mention of any native species that perhaps become bloated with the introduction of another species, or by some other consequence, creating the feared monocultural wasteland commonly referred to in these two chapters.)

Post 9/22/12: High Line Park

Posted on September 22, 2012 by R.C.

The High Line Park is an exquisite example of a metropolitan take on nature. Situated atop an abandoned railway, the longitudinal park is filled with various sorts of flora, from grass and flowers to shout and sturdy trees. The plants are not randomly dispersed about the railway, as the trees are concentrated to a shaded area near the north end of the park, while smaller growths can be seen in patches throughout the area.

Many of the pictures taken here are situated at around 20th Street and under (the fuller growths on the northward end made for poor images with my shoddy photography).

Bee and a Flower

A bee lands on a flower as it flits between several plants.


Petal Dance

A pair of bees share space on a yellow flower.


Butterflies

Some butterflies hold onto a few plants after an elegant dance.


Evidently, a large quantity of my pictures taken included bees as the pollinator of choice. This is due to their larger bodies (relative to the tiny flies) and their yellow-black contrast made them easier targets for photography. Were I an actual biologist, I’d hazard my photographic skills would not get me far. Nevertheless, I also captured an image of (presumably) butterflies, white, fluttery and commonly seen flitting from place to place within the metropolis (they might be moths; if so then my mistake).

Bird on Branch

It’s a bird, patient enough for me to snag a photo before taking to the skies once more.


That one was a small bird, a youngling I presumed, and though it is probably not a pollinator, it was a convenient photo to take nonetheless. Photography is an art form, and that one was nice (compared to the other few dozen failures fortunately not seen here).

Richard Chan

Greetings from the High Line!


And yes, I was there. Although it has apparently been a significant amount of time since my last incursion; I did not recall small food stands in one of the underpasses on my last trip. I don’t think it’s a terribly intrusive addition to the park, but it does limit the traffic somewhat.

The High Line Park is a modest example of what Marris wishes to establish as a Rambunctious Garden. It is a space that, instead of being carelessly cut down for scrap (which would be a task in its own right), was refurbished to attract wildlife. Granted, it was already encouraging a variety of flora prior to its renovation, suggested by Stalter that it was partially due to the uncommon human traffic upon the closed system. It is not assisted migration per se, though it bears some semblance of rewilding. In fact, it may very well be the preservationist idea that Marris is so vehemently trying to discourage. And yet, perhaps because of its recent baseline, one couldn’t really call it a preserve in the conventional sense of using a much older baseline (pre-Columbian or pre-Anthropocene, for instance).

There was likely some destruction of such “pest” species in the construction of the High Line, as well as some research into what was “naturally” there when it became derelict. From what I could gather, it did seem more limited than the catalogue that Stalter was able to scrounge up. Of course, I’m no plant expert, so similar plants may have been recorded and I could have simply overlooked their subtleties. Yet, given all of the wildlife it has attracted (birds, some insects, a TON OF BEES, and a dragonfly that was persistently hovering over my head the entire time), who’s to say new species won’t enter the park in due time?

Thus, the High Line is something of a compromise between preservationists and Marris. There was destruction and displacement of some species, while others were reintroduced and/or encouraged. There was a presumed baseline for the renovation, yet it is recent enough to be accepting of some of Marris’ nonconventional ideas. It may not be what Marris envisioned—not by a long shot—but it’s a start, and with potential global catastrophes looming, any foothold is a good lead.

Post 9/12/12: Rambunctious Garden 5

Posted on September 12, 2012 by R.C.

The idea of assisted migration, in which humanity plans and (eventually) moves certain species that are endangered by climate change into a more suitable environment, sounds considerably less preposterous than Pleistocene rewilding. It is not as extreme as rewilding; rather than moving species over continents, many advocates support the movement of species for the lesser distance of a few hundred miles, generally in the skyward or northward direction. The benefits of assisted migration are more obvious (and arguably a lot quicker), as the targets, endangered and useful species, give more immediate reasons to a call to actions. Cumulatively, one could theoretically garner a great deal of support from the masses.

On the other hand, it will likely be costly, more than rewilding, though probably less than preservations. Critics are not unjustified in fearing invasiveness of some species, although that concern can be alleviated with sufficient time and research. Perhaps most significant, however, is that the majority of assisted migration research (insofar as this book and the article) is based on plants, many of which are ones that grow into mature trees, which are notorious for their longevity—as well as the time it takes to grow it to that age. The time-consuming effort to research the effects of migrating trees will take years, which may be some cause for alarm if climate change is encroaching as fast as some scientists believe. Furthermore, the lack of fauna data means transporting insects and animals is even more unpredictable with regards to the target ecosystem.

Nevertheless, assisted migration can be a great insight into how humans can help to save and tame their adjacent ecosystems. The Puth and Burns article highlighted the decline of species richness in the American Northeast, (vaguely) emphasizing the effects of the New York metropolis, among other areas including portions of New Jersey and Connecticut, on its neighboring habitats. Learning the effects of moving wildlife around may work to slow at least the destructive properties of urbanization, at best weaving through the inevitable political firestorm; at worst, the research will at least provide some foundation of how to prolong existing preservation and conservation projects. Of course, like the article said, an unfortunate lack in detailed surveying makes it difficult to consider the micromanagement of such ordeals.

Assisted migration will undoubtedly be a key in finding a relative equilibrium between the rural and the urban. If we are going to displace entire ecosystems—and since humanity is far from finished from expanding and excavating, we are likely going to continue down that path—we might as well understand how to mitigate the consequences that come with human invasions. Moving species by hand (or vehicle) is by far the most direct way to interact with nature to alter it, so assisted migration may be a nice vocal focus from which to project the necessity to face climate change, and perhaps even draw focus to other conservation techniques (like the aforementioned radical rewilding idea). Like rewilding, however, the idea is too new, the research is too sparse, and more consideration will be required before large-scale, government-backed acts are committed. In the meantime, spurring local initiatives, like the one citizen-backed one for moving the Florida terroya northbound, may be a good start.

Post 9/9/12: Rambunctious Garden 3, 4

Posted on September 9, 2012 by R.C.

The concept of rewilding is a very radical and grandiose idea. Specifically Pleistocene rewilding, the idea of recreating ancient, pre-human ecosystems (before even native human inhabitants) using existing species as proxies is an incredible project. To be fair, if the natural processes it hopes to promote occurs as intended (or, even if unintended, sufficiently nature-like), then the rewilding project that Donlan, Vera and others hope to implement would probably be less labor-intensive and cheaper than most preservation techniques. The idea of Pleistocene rewilding is nothing short of absurd, since it would require the transport of many species across continents to create, as Marris puts it, an imperfect replica of the environment it hopes to be. Some species, like elephants, which emulate the massive herbivores in past North American ecosystems, would be an undoubtedly peculiar sight, while others, like cougars, which proxy for carnivorous predators, frighten opponents at the prospect of living near such dangerous animals.

The benefit of the concept of rewilding is that it promotes the concept of an imperfect and non-“pristine” nature. In contrast to preservationists, it requires human interference to at least initiate and catalyze the process of creating nature. Also unlike preservationists, who hope to save the lives of flora and fauna alike, rewilding, at least in the eyes of Frans Vera of the nature reserve Oostvaardersplassen, also includes death as a natural process (death meaning corpses of animals and the like, notably absent from many Yellowstone postcards). Furthermore, rewilding promotes a cycling and changing ecosystem, of plains and shrubs and forests, of population shifts of predators and prey. Rewilding may very well be the last thing from a conservationist’s idealistic vision, but it does seem like a practical vision.

On the flip side, rewilding as an idea is too rural or nature oriented. The ideas put forth by Marris, her colleagues and travel associates focus very much on reforming preexisting natural terrain; they do not consider urban settings. This does give pause for some concern; from rural towns to urban metropolises, few would truly appreciate the notion of rampaging pachyderms or growling carnivores at their doorstep. In those cases, the damage caused by nature may well overshadow the cost-saving intention of rewilding, especially in the long-term. Plus, while the idea of returning to a Pleistocene era would be an attractive baseline to reach, it may not be entirely practical with regards to the changing global ecosystem. Marris and her researchers did study about repositioning tortoises to proxy in certain archipelagic systems, but the reports of the species that the tortoises replaced were extinct for a few centuries; the Pleistocene rewilding scheme hopes to predate millennia of change, humans or otherwise. There will be unintended consequences to rewilding, no doubt about it. Marris does note that success or failure, such a project would provide valuable information. Where the line between in control and out of control of the situation is the question of this ambitious idea.

In all, Marris and her scientists do have a case for rewilding, even for Pleistocene rewilding. However, I believe that it should be done in small and moderate scales; a series of mountains, or large plains, would be an appropriate setting for rewilding, but entire continents should not be redecorated for the sake of nature. I would doubt that neither the animals nor plants nor humans could beneficially survive such a radical transition. Rewilding works, to some extent; it just needs a bit more time to refine.

Post 9/5/12: Rambunctious Garden 1, 2

Posted on September 5, 2012 by R.C.

In the first chapters of Emma Marris’ Rambunctious Garden, she quickly indicates—and likely will continue to reinforce in later chapters—the problem with many conservation projects: it is just not that simple. Preservation is not as easy as planting a tree or making compost to save the environment, although many people—especially city dwellers and commuters, I would haphazardly guess—see it this way. While it does serve to be environmentally friendly and, indeed, help nature in at least reversing more obvious, destructive consequences of nature, such as the dramatic increase in carbon concentration in the atmosphere, it does not, say, save the sequoias, at least not in a direct sense. But Marris brings up a good point: should it?

As evident in chapters 1 and 2, preserving such majesties is often incredibly costly, either at the cost of labor or of the surrounding nonnative species, as was in Marris’ Hawaii example, or, more often, both. In the Yellowstone model, the conservationists sought and seek an arbitrary baseline—typically pre-European settlement—as their guideline of what natural utopia should be. The problem, as Marris points out, is that nature is never still, never static. Evolution, slow though it may be, works to alter the flora and fauna (and, indirectly, the landscape as well). Migratory patterns of plants over the last several glaciations also indicate no… well, pattern; the distribution of seeds over a vast continent went in different directions, sometimes defying logical progression of post-glacial distribution. Would it not be, then, that we are preserving a false ideal of what we believe nature should be?

The concept of having nature for various reasons began (in the States) in the Northeast, where Thoreau and Emerson could seek peace and aestheticism from the scenery—often little more than a mile or two away from civilization. Muir expanded upon that with a more zealous approach to nature, attributing it to godly proportions. Teddy Roosevelt had a more violent take on nature—that from animals to minerals, it was for our taking—but nevertheless emphasized its necessity, if even just for sport. I am unsure which of the reasons would be preferable (though I would prefer Roosevelt’s gung-ho style), but regardless, as nature diminished to towns, cities and metropolises, awareness to its ebb increased.

Nevertheless, conservationists have created some havens—if only very small relative to the grand scheme of things. A patch of native Hawaiian plants here, a pocket of Australian preserve set aside for “cute-and-furries”, being more pristine examples, as well as the numerous parks, preservations and conservations that dot the globe, albeit “protecting” the lives within them imperfectly. Despite the likely, if not inevitable, failure of many of these locations’ missions, they are undoubtedly still very beautiful and useful for what they are. Aestheticism goes a long way when the daily commute is steel and concrete, I suppose.

Richard Chan: Post 8/30/12–Anthropocene

Posted on August 29, 2012 by R.C.

Antrhropocene: the era of humanity. Specifically, anthropocene refers to the industrial and post-industrial era of humanity, when people around the world began to take over land, as well as sea, that had been previously untouched or unhindered by humankind, and began reshaping those regions for their benefit. Ecologically, that definition would be modestly adequate, as undoubtedly humans have done their fair share of destruction of—as well as have been destroyed by—nature long before, but it was during this particular time in human history when we the people stepped on the accelerator.

As Vitousek and others point out, major changes and fluctuations occurred during our collective quest for more oil, more fuel, more food, and, well, more of everything. Resources of every sort were and are literally uprooted from their habitats, and in its place are exhaust and runoff. Atmospheric carbon, nitrogen, and sulfur levels have relatively skyrocketed, and along with the damaging of the ozone layer due to chlorofluorocarbons, the global meteorology has in turn returned the damages back as acid rain and scorching ultraviolet harm. Humans are able to actually displace the air, the sea, and the earth around them, and in part due to naiveté and part to necessity, they have done exactly that.

Then, as Kareiva and his colleagues explain, humans became conscious to their work, and instead of a fairy-tale righting of past dues, an odd conundrum—and ensuing chaos—occurred. As people preserved natural habitats they displaced people; as people preserved people they displaced the natural habitats. It is realized, then, that an antebellum status quo of nature would be impossible, if not impractical, to achieve. Humans have simply done too much; even if they do not directly interact with the ecosystem they believe is untouched, their global actions—namely the continued usage of fossil fuels and massive depletion of resources, such as deforestation and overfishing—can still negatively affect, if only slightly alter, said ecosystem. Instead, Kareiva suggests, humans should adapt to the resilience and adaptability of nature itself, to understand the resistance of ecosystems to change, and to encourage that advancement instead of preserves and parks.

That is urban ecology. Urban ecology is the meshing and proper coexistence of the natural and the industrial. It is the construction and/or maintenance of ecosystems, micromanaged and global, that can be sustained with and despite human interference. It does mean a significant sacrifice on part of humanity; for one, humans cannot continue to see the world as their giant sandbox. It is finite, and as humans continue to grow they will find it to be increasingly finite—that is, scarce. For another, people were the reason for the destruction or displacement of species and terrain alike; if they have the power to cause such disrepair, then they should have the power to do the opposite. Indeed, one testament to humanity’s power of construction of such a scale is the projects intended to build artificial islands. Surely, if people can build islands, then they can otherwise reshape the Earth in any fashion they desire. It may take green technology, solar panels, transitioning into gas-sipper-cars, international agreements, and something with a little more weight than a monkey wrench, but it is entirely possible for humanity to survive in the era of urban ecology. The next era that humankind should make is the polisopocene.

Comments by R.C.