Author Archives: Salihe Redzovic

Posts by Salihe Redzovic

Downstate Stakeholder

Posted on December 2, 2012 by Salihe Redzovic

Swaney, D., Santoro, R., Howarth, R., Hong, B., & Donaghy, K. 2012. Historical changes in the food and water supply systems of the New York City Metropolitan Area. Regional Environmental Change 12(2): 368-380. Doi:10.1007/s10113-011-0266-1

Water supply is among the most important factors that shape the development of a city. For centuries, the relatively rapid rate of development of New York City brought about growing pains when dealing with sourcing clean water. From the early use of unpolluted wells, springs and streams by European settlers, to today’s use of upstate watersheds, New York City’s water systems have undergone a series of changes to offset the pressures of urban society.

The concept of using watersheds has long been critical to supplying NYC with clean water. As seen in the figure below, watershed boundaries (in red) for the NYC reservoirs at various points in time have changed in order to accommodate growing demand.  The Catskill Mountain system, for example, was completed in 1927 and now supplies approximately 40% of the City’s demands for water. The Delaware and Croton watersheds supply water to the remaining populations.

Expansion of the NYC watershed (pale red) and water supply system over time.

In an attempt to maintain New York City’s reputably clean water supply, the Environmental Protection Agency’s proposition to construct a filtration facility has appealed to many. With an estimated initial cost of $6-$8 billion and an annual operating cost of $500 million thereafter, residents and business owners will be the ones to shoulder much of these undue expenses. There are other ways to combat NYC’s water supply issues.

New York City has continued to maintain and improve its infrastructure over the years. Major transport pipelines have been replaced, water mains throughout the city have been repaired, developing leak detection and metering programs have reduced loss, and the mandated addition of phosphorus to the city water supply has reduced pipeline corrosion. In addition, much attention has also turned towards the management of watersheds to maintain water quality and meet demands. New and creative approaches such as acknowledging the value of ecosystem services and the need for wetland protection have also been proposed.

As a result of such measures, water use has leveled off. While there is undoubtedly going to be increased pressure to provide quality water to New York City, there has been “increased public understanding of the linkage between the NYC’s water demand and the finite nature of its watershed.”

There is great motivation for NYC to abide by strict watershed rules and regulations to ensure high water quality so as to avoid the economic consequences of failing to guarantee adequate water supply. It is possible – and economical – to do so by continuing to approach our water systems innovatively rather than by constructing a filtration facility worth billions of dollars that can be better allocated elsewhere.

Questions for Emma Marris

Posted on November 7, 2012 by Salihe Redzovic
  1. Where did your interest in ecology stem from? When did you first realize this was something you were passionate about?
  2.  What was your favorite part or experience when writing your book, Rambunctious Garden?
  3. You mentioned that the idea of pristine wilderness has long been the  “holy grail” of conservation ecology. Naturally, the introduction of unorthodox notions, such as the ones you mentioned in your book, are likely to evoke criticism. Do you feel that a more novel approach to conservationism is becoming more welcomed, or is there still a lot of hesitation?
  4.  Ten years from now, what is your ideal ecological vision for urban areas such as NYC?
  5. What do you suggest students, who are not necessarily pursuing a career in ecology or the like, do to work with rather than against our environment?

Poster Questions

Posted on October 8, 2012 by Salihe Redzovic

1. How have the modes of transportation used by New Yorkers shifted in recent years? (Car, train, bike, carpool, etc.)

2. Does the amount of parkland in each borough affect the borough’s air quality?

Chapter 10: A Menu of New Goals

Posted on October 4, 2012 by Salihe Redzovic

Chapter 10 of Emma Marris’ Rambunctious Garden provides seven goals for humans to follow so that we may move towards solving the ecological preservation conundrum. In short, Marris advocates we “give up romantic notions of a stable Eden, be honest about goals and costs, keep land from mindless development, and try just about everything” (170).

Marris’ first goal entails protecting the rights of other species. All of nature has an inherent value, or land ethic, that covers every living and non-living feature. However, this can be tough to adhere to at times when the rights of certain species conflict with another.

The Marris asserts, “The land as a unit has a right to run itself without human meddling in some places” (156). By practicing deep ecology as opposed to shallow ecology, humans can learn to care for the environment while simultaneously caring for themselves.

Protecting charismatic megafauna is Marris’ third goal. The term charismatic megafauna refers to species that humans like and are more inclined to save. Such animals include whales, dolphins, elephants, gorillas, tigers and pandas – all big mammals with big eyes. When protected, these animals become keystone species that can lead to the umbrella conservation (or unintentional conservation) of species that live alongside them.

Next would be to slow the rate of extinctions. Every species should be equally worthy of protection. This means creating “conservation hotspots” and zones where endangered species live together. One of the problems, however, is that “narrowly focusing on stopping extinctions…saves species but not necessarily ecosystems” (160).

Fourth is to protect genetic diversity. Unfortunately, the distinctions between species are not always clear-cut and this lends to obscurity when deciding which groups of organisms are eligible for endangered species protection. Marris argues, “if the genes are more important…then you don’t even need to keep living populations going in zoos…All you need are the sequences” (162).

Marris continues on to promote the idea that we must define and defend biodiversity. Protecting biodiversity is an illusive concept that emerged in the early twentieth century. Marris jests that biodiversity is the “shorthand of complexity” for it can become extremely intricate. In fact, biodiversity may end up being the most problematic conservation goal because there is so much to it.

Marris’ sixth goal is to maximize ecosystem service. Although the “what have you done for me lately” argument seems like an unrealistic one in ecology, Marris declares we must not treat resources as inexhaustible and valueless. Instead, we can create a mutual relationship in which both humans and our environment can benefit.

Lastly, Marris champions we protect the spiritual and aesthetic experience of nature. While everyone’s ideal image of nature differs, we must remember that it is not always pristine.

Marris concludes her chapter and book by stating that no one goal is better than another. While some are more or less feasible and others are easier said than done, we can all agree that nature, “…a place to refresh our spirits or to contemplate something that is grander than ourselves” is too precious to mistreat (167).

Rambunctious Gardeners

Posted on October 2, 2012 by Salihe Redzovic

In chapter eight and nine of Rambunctious Garden, Marris introduces the idea that restoration initiatives that attempt to return ecosystems to a particular baseline are not as factual as ecologists once thought. Take the restoration of streams, for example. Pre-European arrival in the Piedmont region of eastern United States, streams were actually more like swamps. A revolution in restorative ecology has spurred the theory that venturing to restore streams is actually an attempt to restore an artificial state.

If restorative efforts choose baselines arbitrarily, can we really call it historical restoration? What has resulted is a completely new theory. Marris states that in one way or another, all restoration projects are planned, thus labeling them designer ecosystems. Taking this idea one step further, Marris introduces a more radical kind of designer ecosystem: “…not emulating any base line at all but building de novo to achieve a particular goal” (126). Some ecologists argue that we should be more concerned with constructing ecosystems that are the most advantageous rather than trying to restore ecosystems that may not have as many benefits, thus improving conservational value. Take ecologist Rene Dubos, for example. He believed in human-created landscapes designed to support humans and other species. Historian Roderick Nash, believes in the “garden scenario” in which humans have total control over nature, aiming to produce benefits.

In reality, practicing such theories is extremely tricky because there are far too many variables involved. Our ecosystems are remarkably complex and do not go through biotic changes or abiotic changes exclusively. If this were the case, restoring hybrid ecosystems would be a bit simpler. In truth, however, both biotic and abiotic changes usually occur simultaneously, making complete restoration a fleeting objective. Humans do not yet know enough to patch together different kinds of land to form novel ecosystems. Instead, humans have been “rambunctious gardeners” for centuries, mildly altering and designing our own ecosystems. National and neighborhood parks, home gardens, nature reserves and the like all seem to embody designer ecosystems.

As Marris alludes, restoration ecologists are similar to doctors, looking to heal wounded nature by returning it to a natural state. Ecosystem designers, on the other hand, are beginning to see possibilities in “designing, engineering and cooking up something new” (126). Essentially, historical ecological restoration has become moot by the belief that environments are ever-changing and ecosystems are highly dynamic. Marris seems to believe that if we are able to overcome the gestalt switch in our minds, then we may be able to one day witness the coexistence of humans and nature, just as can been seen in Alberta’s Banff National Park. The “graceful wildlife overpasses and underpasses” that serve as roadways to zooming cars are also utilized by moose, lynx and other animals that migrate and disperse (138). If we can effectively let go of our need to always work back to a baseline, “history becomes…a guide instead of a straightjacket” (131).

A Love-Hate Relationship: Novel Ecosystems

Posted on October 1, 2012 by Salihe Redzovic

After reading five chapters of Marris’ Rambunctious Garden, it is easy to infer that traditional ecology spurns the idea of invasive species coexisting with native species; invasive species are bad, native species are good. Years of field study and research have formed orthodox views that support the idea that invasive species hinder ecosystems due to their harmful nature, severely impeding biodiversity and ecosystem health. As Marris’ book states, “A species invades, and the ecosystem collapses, species go extinct, and complexity and diversity are replaced with a monotonous and weedy landscape dominated by invaders” (97). Proof has been seen for centuries all around the world. Zebra mussels in the Great Lakes, the yellow crazy ant in Australia, or the aggressive species introduced to Stephens Island that killed off ten of twelve native birds, leading to a cascading effect on other species serve as only a few examples. With so much proof, it is difficult to view exotic species otherwise. Chapter six and seven of Marris’ book, however, shine a new light on invasive species and propose the contentious idea that perhaps exotic species are not so bad after all.

Throughout chapters six and seven, Marris provides readers with an alternative vantage point, presenting the claim that exotic species may, in fact, be beneficial to an ecosystem. Marris’ first example pertains to an instance in which an introduced species of trees actually saved three native species from going extinct: On Rodrigues Island, fast-growing exotic trees were chosen to reforest the land and “almost accidentally” saved the island’s two endangered songbirds and a fruit bat. Marris furthers her argument by introducing two modern ecologists, Mascaro and Lugo, who also support the notion of “novel ecosystems,” ecosystems defined by anthropogenic change that are not under active human management (114). The stories support examples of native and introduced species living together diversely, sans “monocultures and other such nightmares.” She also makes the argument that targeting invasive species is simply not economical. Ridding an ecosystem of all invasive species requires a large amount of time, effort and money, and the results are not always permanent. In short, Marris provides readers with the general idea that “…some exotic species are a huge problem, the vast majority are not.” (98).

But is this really so? When assessed objectively, this blanket claim seems to fall short. It is true that a number of invasive species are introduced and eventually mellow out, but the impacts of exotic species are far direr than made to seem. Invasive species have high competitive ability, fecundity and their extremely quick growth rate is supplemented by the lack of natural regulators such as parasites or competitors that have yet to adapt to the new species. In fact, introduced species rank amongst the top five causes of modern extinction. What about the “good” invasive species Marris talks of in her book? They have a very high failure rate.

All in all, we cannot merely say that invasive species are good. We must strike a balance between giving exotic species free reign and entirely ridding areas of introduced species. I agree strongly with Joe Mascaro’s quote, “This isn’t about conceding defeat; its about a new approach” (122).

The High Line!

Posted on September 27, 2012 by Salihe Redzovic

For almost 50 years, the High Line railroad served as a means of commercial transportation and carried commercial goods through the city. Eventually, in 1980, the final trip along the railway was made and it was since abandoned. Parts of the railroad were demolished, other parts completely torn down. Unkempt species grew as humans had little interaction with the High Line. What was once a main vein of transit in New York City had become an unsightly feature that negatively affected surrounding property values. Luckily, some saw this as an opportunity to integrate nature into a highly urbanized area. What resulted was a citified garden with “a multiplicity of everchanging habitats” (Stalter 390).

Unfortunately, the day I visited the High Line was a bit gloomy and windy; many of the area’s pollinators had probably scurried away in search of shelter. I was only able to capture a few bumblebees hovering around flowers and low-lying plant communities. On a previous visit during mid-August, however, I saw a much more diverse community of species ranging from bugs of all sorts to a monarch butterfly. As Stalter states in his study, humans may have also played an inadvertent role in pollinating the High Line by transporting seeds while walking. I thought about this as I looked around at the flora around me. It is quite ironic that something so industrial it was once labeled “Death Row” could become something rich with life. In fact, Stalter states “the High Line may have one of the highest levels of species richness of any temperate zone urban environment in the region” (Stalter 389). Variables that would seemingly negatively affect species gave way to such diversified organisms.

In the midst of one of the most urban areas in the world, a lovely elevated “park” exists. A rambunctious garden, perhaps? I would say so. When the High Line was built in the 1930s, no one could have guessed what it would end up becoming. Over time, the High Line adapted to the changing environment around it and luckily, the Friends of the High Line saw this as an opportunity to preserve the diverse nature that had emerged. In fact, I went to a community board meeting the same day and one of the topics of discussion pertained to a new housing plan that suggested erecting three new apartment buildings around the High Line. Rather than tear down a part of this urban garden, the building plan intended to integrate it into the project.

While the High Line differs from what most people believe to be conventional greenery, it was nice to see that the elevated park did not have to be pristine or seem like a whole other world for it to be rich with nature. In the midst of tall, futuristic apartment buildings and car horns, the High Line provides an escape from boisterous society for the humans that dotted its large patches of grass.

Assisted Migration

Posted on September 12, 2012 by Salihe Redzovic

A few years ago, a relatively new idea emerged onto the scene of ecology known as assisted migration. Simply defined as the deliberate moving of species from their present habitat to a new area in hopes of preserving that species.

Although the concept of assisted migration has only recently become a topic of scientific debate, the truth is it has been in practice for quite some time both unintentionally as well as consciously. Whether through gardening, reforestation, or the like, humans have been moving species around for years. Likewise, animals have also long been aiding this process. Blue jays, for example, disperse Beech seeds by dropping the seeds around as they fly. In a similar vein, assisted migration has been carried out willingly. Take the Assisted Migration Adaptation Trial (AMAT), citizen naturalists such as the Torreya Guardians and the systematic movement of trees in British Colombia. These initiatives have already begun to set the wheels of assisted migration in motion.

Naturally, while there are those who support such activity, a many handful remain ambivalent to accepting it. As Marris points out in her tale of Florida Torreya, populations of trees are being moved but entire tree species are not yet being planted outside of their historical range. This is supported by the belief that the assisted migration of seeds is not nearly as risky as the assisted migration of species. But why would something be so risky if it has long been in practice? There are still too many unknowns, and this is what has sparked public controversy. No evidence has been collected to prove that every species moved will survive in its new environment; perhaps we would be doing more harm than good. For those that do survive and flourish, the movement of an entire species might endanger other ecosystems by potentially introducing an invasive species that may drive out natives. But then again, as Marris alludes, would these “invasive” species really be as bad as we make them out to be?

It seems that the bottom line regarding assisted migration is analogous to flipping a coin—we do not know the outcome. Of course, moving species “willy-nilly” is not the most desirable technique, but what if there was a more scientific approach that could determine what species to move and where to move them? In the article written by Puth and Burns, studying species richness is described as an advantageous method that allows ecologist to study the patterns of species increase or decline in a community. One of the biggest obstacles, however, is the lack of sufficient ecological data amongst urban communities. If this shortcoming could be remedied, I think species richness could serve as an excellent indicator of what species need to be brought to urban ecosystems.

While a lack of concrete evidence supporting assisted migration is a valid base for skepticism, the coupling of species richness and assisted migration may not be a bad idea. Some believe assisted migration is nothing more than the latest chic trend, others believe it contradicts the basis of preservation by violating the baseline. I think it’s worth a shot.

The Paradox of Rewilding

Posted on September 10, 2012 by Salihe Redzovic

Coined in the mid 1990s by a man named Dave Foreman, the essence of rewilding stems from the notion that “top-of-the-food-chain predators” can regulate ecosystems by keeping the number of prey, and thus lower-level species, in check. Without the proper predators, prey species would flourish, compete with one another for food, an ultimate prey species would survive and plant species would then suffer. The three main factors necessary for rewilding include: enough predators to keep prey species in check, adequate space for the predators to live and the ability of predators to meet and mate so as to maintain a healthily diverse gene pool. Marris takes the concept one step further to Oostvaardersplassen in which readers are introduced to Pleistocene rewilding, or the restoring of an area to a state before any humans inhabited it.

Although the purpose and process of rewilding may seem sound, criticism of the ideology has ensued due to the many resulting unknowns that plague the theory. “We can only guess how the ecosystem would change,” points out Marris. The process of rewilding—which involves reintroducing species into areas, relocating others, etc.—begins to seem like a large-scale science project. When dealing with the earth and all of its inhabitants, however, we cannot afford to perform experiments without facing negative consequences.

 

Perhaps humanity decides rewilding, albeit risky, is worth a try for the sake of conservation and reverting to a pristine baseline (although there is no such thing). Rewilding would mean “devising a brand-new ecosystem”—a project that requires human intervention in the course of nature. Take the Heck cattle that were developed by two German brothers, or the fact that Vera chose the species he wanted to have on his Oostvaardersplassen reserve so that he may control the way it looked. Does this not contradict the initial problem of humans interfering too greatly with their ecosystems? Furthermore, rewilded animals such as cheetahs would be heavily managed and separated from human habitation, creating a sharp divide between wilderness and humanity. The problem with this lies in the fact that humans are a part of nature; we cannot live disjointedly.

The scientific feasibility of rewilding has also come into question. With the technology and equipment we have today, there should be no problem relocating species to formulate ecosystems. Once introduced, nature takes over once again and the species may or may not flourish. The method of rewilding seems quite realizable. And if any species were to ever get out of hand or pose too great a risk, “We destroyed them once and we can destroy them again,” states Vera. The ethical standing of rewilding, however, seems to trouble many. We should not play the role of God because we cannot know the repercussions of such an act.

With the pros and cons weighed out, the concept of rewilding seems paradoxical. As Marris explains, “The Oostvaardersplassen was man-made to be wild, created from nothing to look like it had never changed.” It is as if we are trying to mold nature to our liking, to a way we think it ought to be. Instead of shuffling species around, we should focus on fostering the nature around us, however wild or tame.

Seeing the Forest for the Trees

Posted on September 10, 2012 by Salihe Redzovic

“We must temper our romantic notion of untrammeled wilderness and find room next to it for the more nuanced notion of a global, half-wild rambunctious garden, tended by us.” This statement made by Emma Marris in her book Rambunctious Garden: Saving Nature in a Post-Wild World sums up quite simply the main idea she attempts to convey to her audience. Throughout the first two chapters, Marris provides a plethora of anecdotes and information supporting her claim that traditional views regarding untouched nature must evolve.

In chapter one, much of Marris’ focus is geared towards the fact that conventional ecologists have spent their lives studying pristine and unspoiled places, labeling these areas as true nature. At the same time, traditional conservationists channel their energy into trying to prevent nature from changing. Unfortunately, applying such static beliefs to something as dynamic as nature does not allow us to see the proverbial forest for the trees. Humans have already had such a profound effect on the environment – and for such a long time – that the pre-human baseline ecologists work so hard to revert to is becoming an impractical goal.

Marris also introduces her idea of rambunctious gardens being everywhere—parks, backyards, rooftops, traffic circles. As conservationists are becoming more receptive to this avant-garde idea, they can approach conservationism differently while still holding true to its values.

In chapter two, Marris addresses how our views of nature have changed over time. Before the 1860s, the wilderness was regarded as ‘savage’ and unsafe. It was not until Romantics such as William Wordsworth, Percy Shelly, Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau lauded nature for its “awe-inspiring” and even spiritual characteristics. After the establishment of Yellowstone as a public park in 1872 and more importantly the emergence of the ‘wilderness cult’ in 1890, nature took on a more healthful reputation in the eyes of Americans. However, there were also people, such as Teddy Roosevelt, who saw wilderness as a beast to be challenged. This ‘challenge’ required hunting, making roads, and other means of diminishing nature. As these and many more individuals attempted to analyze the true meaning and value of nature, they did not realize that our ecosystems were changing faster than they could be defined.

I agree with Marris’ statement that we have “lost” nature in the sense that we are mistaken about what it truly is. Nature does not have to be untouched nor unchanging. In fact, Henry David Thoreau’s oft-quoted statement, “In wildness is the preservation of the world” strengthens the concept that if we continue to confine nature into park reserves, we are hampering its evolution and, therefore, its beauty. Contrary to orthodox beliefs, native ecosystems are not necessary any better than changed or changing ecosystems and perhaps the Yellowstone Model for preservation is a mere paradox. As Marris points out, human interaction with nature has not necessarily degraded it. Instead, as Thoreau alludes, we must try to find the middle ground between complete wilderness and complete civilization.

The Anthropocene and Urban Ecology

Posted on August 30, 2012 by Salihe Redzovic

Since the beginning of time, humans have interacted with their environments in order to survive. As mankind’s involvement with nature increased exponentially, the earth eventually became a human-dominated planet. Human activities began to impact the earth’s ecosystems so greatly that a new geological era came to be—the Anthropocene.  Defined by Kareiva as “an era in which humans dominate every flux and cycle of the planet’s ecology and geochemistry,” the coining of the name “Anthropocene” served to underscore how substantially humans altered the earth. More recently, increased focus has been placed on urban ecology, the study of human interaction with the environment in urbanized settings. As the world continues to develop, understanding the effects of pollution, overdevelopment and other such pressures on nature is vital to striking a balance in our ecosystem.

Written in 1997, Vitousek’s article Human Domination of Earth’s Ecosystems paints a stark image of humanity’s impact on terrestrial and aquatic ecosystems. In stating that the consequences of land transformation “are not restricted to [a] target organism,” Vitousek highlights a domino-like effect that results from land transformation: marine ecosystems are altered, biochemical cycles are disrupted, and biotic changes are precipitated, ultimately leading to a loss of biological diversity.

In the more recent article Conservation in the Anthropocene, Kareiva portrays a more optimistic vantage point as he reveals that the traditional beliefs of conservationists cannot effectively preserve the current ecosystems of our planet. Long viewed as innocent and uncontroversial, conservation has often led to the expelling of indigenous people in an attempt to create parks and reserves. Kareiva proposes that “idealized notions of nature, parks, and wilderness” must become more realistic. In this regard, drastic conservation measures are neither feasible nor necessary. As an urban community, we must shift our focus towards maintaining and preserving our already urbanized cities in conjunction with parks and reserves.

Although Vitousek’s and Kareiva’s beliefs differ, they do agree that biodiversity is declining as a result of human’s ongoing alteration of the earth. They understand that conservation alone, in its strict sense, will not work because the pace of destruction is far greater than the pace on conservation. More importantly, both authors put forth a three-step solution. Vitousek suggests 1) reducing our ecological footprint, 2) better understanding our ecosystems, and 3) accepting our responsibility to manage our planet. Similarly, Kareiva proposes we 1) begin appreciating the strength and resilience of nature, 2) recognize how dependent we are upon it, and 3) continue developing with the importance of nature foremost in mind.

As I read through our assigned articles, I laid on my hammock, swinging peacefully between the two apple trees in my backyard. I reflected upon the arguments made by Vitousek and Kareiva as I stared at the bright blue sky through a canopy of foliage overhead. Humans and their ecosystems are undoubtedly intertwined. Everyday we witness the true resilience and dynamism of nature — its ability to survive and flourish even after being strained by humans for centuries. While we cannot halt human development in order to preserve nature, we can use our knowledge and technology to strike a balance and mutually coexist with our environment, allowing it to take its natural course.

Comments by Salihe Redzovic