In June 1987 more than 200 people attended the first annual meeting of the Society for Conservation Biology in Bozeman, Montana, USA. The rapid growth of the new organization’s membership served as an index to the expansion of the field generally. SCB tapped into the burgeoning interest in interdisciplinary conservation science among younger students, faculty, and conservation practitioners. Universities established new courses, seminars, and graduate programs. Scientific organizations and foundations adjusted their funding priorities and encouraged those interested in the new field.
A steady agenda of conferences on biodiversity conservation brought together academics, agency officials, resource managers, business representatives, international aid agencies, and non-governmental organizations. In remarkably rapid order, conservation biology gained legitimacy and secured a professional foothold. Not, however, without resistance, skepticism, and occasional ridicule. As the field grew, complaints came from various quarters. Conservation biology was caricatured as a passing fad, a response to trendy environmental ideas (and momentarily
available funds). Its detractors regarded it as too theoretical, amorphous, and eclectic; too promiscuously interdisciplinary; too enamored of models; and too technique-deficient and data-poor to have any practical application (Gibbons 1992).
Conservation biologists in North America were accused of being indifferent to the conservation traditions of other nations and regions.
Some saw conservation biology as merely putting “old wine in a newbottle” and dismissing the rich experience of foresters, wildlife managers, and other resource
managers (Teer 1988; Jensen and Krausman 1993). Biodiversity itself was just too broad, or confusing, or “thorny” a term (Udall 1991; Takacs 1996). Such complaints made headlines within the scientific journals and reflected real tensions within resource agencies, academic departments, and conservation organizations. Conservation biology had indeed challenged prevalent paradigms, and such responses were to be expected. Defending the new field, Ehrenfeld (1992: 1625) wrote, “Conservation biology is not defined by a
discipline but by its goal to halt or repair the undeniable, massive damage that is being done to ecosystems, species, and the relationships of humans to the environment. . . . Many specialists in a host of fields find it difficult, even hypocritical, to continue business as usual, blinders firmly in place, in a world that is falling apart.” Meanwhile, a spate of new and complex conservation issues were drawing increased attention to biodiversity conservation. In North America, the Northern Spotted Owl (Strix occidentalis caurina) became the poster creature in deeply contentious debates over the fate of remaining old-growth forests and alternative approaches to
forest management; the Exxon Valdez oil spill and its aftermath put pollution threats and energy policies on the front page; the anti-environmental, anti-regulatory “Wise Use” movement gained in political power and influence; arguments over livestock grazing practices and federal rangeland policies pitted environmentalists against ranchers; perennial attempts to allow oil development within the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge continued; and moratoria were placed on commercial fishing of depleted stocks of northern cod(Alverson et al. 1994; Yaffee 1994; Myers et al. 1997; Knight et al. 2002; Jacobs 2003).
At the international level, attention focused on the discovery of the hole in the stratospheric ozone layer over Antarctica; the growing scientific consensus about the threat of global warming (the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change was formed in 1988 and issued its first assessment report in 1990); the environmental legacy of communism in the former Soviet bloc; and the environmental impacts of international aid and development programs. In 1992, 172 nations gathered in Rio de Janeiro at the United
Nations Conference on Environment and Development
(the “Earth Summit”). Among the products of the summit was the Convention on Biological Diversity. In a few short years, the scope of biodiversity conservation, science, and policy had expanded dramatically (e.g. McNeely et al. 1990; Lubchenco et al. 1991). To some degree, conservation biology had defined its own niche by synthesizing scientific disciplines, proclaiming its special mission, and gathering together a core group of leading scientists, students, and conservation practitioners. However, the field was also filling a niche that was rapidly opening around it.
It provided a meeting ground for those with converging interests in the conservation of biological diversity. It was not alone in gaining ground for interdisciplinary conservation research and practice. It joined restoration ecology, landscape ecology, agroecology, ecological economics, and other new fields in seeking solutions across traditional academic and intellectual boundaries. Amid the flush of excitement in establishing conservation biology, it was sometimes easy to overlook the challenges inherent in the effort. Ehrenfeld (2000) noted that the nascent field was “controversy-rich.” Friction was inherent not only in conservation biology’s relationship to related fields, but within the field itself. Some of this was simply a result of high energy applied to a new endeavor. Often, however, this reflected deeper tensions in conservation: between sustainable use and protection; between public and private resources; between the immediate needs of people, and obligations to future generations and other life forms. Conservation biology would be the latest stage on which these long-standing tensions would express themselves.
Other tensions reflected the special role that conservation biology carved out for itself. Conservation biology was largely a product of American institutions and individuals, yet sought to address a problem of global proportions (Meffe 2002). Effective biodiversity conservation entailed work at scales from the global to the local, and on levels from the genetic to the species to the community; yet actions at these different scales and levels required different types of information, skills, and partnerships (Noss 1990). Professionals in the new field had to be firmly grounded within particular professional specialties, yet conversant across disciplines (Trombulak 1994; Noss 1997). Success in the practice of biodiversity conservation was measured by on-the-ground impact, yet the science of conservation biology was obliged (as are all sciences) to undertake rigorous research and to define uncertainty (Noss 2000). Conservation biology was a “value-laden” field adhering to explicit ethical norms, yet sought to advance conservation through careful scientific analysis (Barry and Oelschlager 1996).
These tensions within conservation biology were present at birth. They continue to present important challenges to conservation biologists. They also give the field its creativity and vitality.
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