Tristan Derham, University of Tasmania.

As a young student of ecology, studying at the University of Western Australia, I was fascinated by how the living world works. I wanted to know how evolution happens, why some populations go extinct, and why some places are far more biodiverse than others. These are good questions for an ecology student.

But amongst all these were other questions that appeared from time to time, questions of a different flavour, somewhat harder to answer. Are ecosystems real things out there in the world? Or is ‘ecosystem’ just a useful fiction? Can scientists ever be objective? Or is that too high a bar? Why do explanations in biology seem to always fall back on the language of purpose and goals? Isn’t it all reducible to chemistry and physics?

I had little chance to find the answers. The questions seemed tangential and I was flat out trying to pass units. So I stuck to the syllabus. But years later, those deep, difficult questions were waiting in the back of my mind.

They kept on coming. If ecosystems are constantly changing, why do ecologists care about pollution, clearing, or invasive populations? Do we really have warrant to prefer native species over newcomers? When may we consider newcomer populations as natives? Why conserve biodiversity at all? Is it just for material human benefits or do ecosystems matter on their own terms?

These are good problems for ecologists to think about. Indeed, ecological journals are brimming with deep, fascinating debates about the right course of action, what we can know, the adequacy of definitions, what ecology is, and what ecology should be. Ironically, we can’t use the scientific method to tease them apart because the questions are about the scientific method. To deal with these issues we must pick up a different set of tools.

After a few years in the workforce I decided I wanted those tools. So I went back to university, as a thirty-five year old undergraduate (and then as a postgraduate) to study philosophy. Just as I had hoped, we dug deeply into issues of what is real, what is right, what we can infer, and what we can know.

I can’t say that I now have good answers to my questions about ethics and metaphysics (perhaps I have better questions!) but I did learn something about ecology. It changed the way I think about science and the way I go about my research. There are some habits and ideas that are taken for granted in the humanities but which are sometimes underplayed in the sciences. For what it’s worth, here are some notes from the other side of the campus, a few light suggestions for thoughtful ecologists.

Give your opponent a charitable reading. You’re about to read an attempted rebuttal of your paper, or a reviewer’s comments on your latest manuscript. Instead of rolling up your sleeves and getting ready to bat away criticisms, try assuming that the authors are well-meaning, intelligent, collegial, and reasonable. That way you’ll get the most from their thinking. Save your barbs for the third time you read it.

Get comfortable with values, morals, and politics. These issues drive our choices as ecologists, choices about employers, research programmes, recommendations, even our instrumentation and analyses. But many scientists are wary of debating matters that seem ‘subjective’. Instead of avoiding these discussions, lean in. Philosophy has plenty of good guidance on how to reason through political and ethical issues. You might discover, for example, that you have good reasons for thinking that ecosystems have intrinsic value, that market mechanisms are the best means for conserving biodiversity, or that native species are more important to protect than non-natives. At the least, you’ll have a better handle on your own decision-making.

The framing matters. It’s easy to think that the facts speak for themselves but facts don’t speak, humans do, and the way we speak makes a difference. If you describe your ecological restoration project in terms of ‘ecosystem services’ then the ensuing conversation will be about material benefits to humans-as-consumers. On the other hand, if you describe it in terms of ‘caring for country’ then the conversation, and the decisions that flow from it, may be quite different.

Give yourself a pat on the back for keeping it real. While it seems that ecologists are being ignored on climate change or land clearing, in reality scientists in Australia are trusted by the public. I think that is because we hold ourselves to high epistemic standards. We’re careful about justifying what we claim, we subject our reasons to expert scrutiny and public discussion, and we’re honest about the limits of our knowledge.

Oh, the humanities! The next time you worry about funding cuts for the sciences, spare a thought for your colleagues in the arts, humanities, and social sciences. Funding for these disciplines has been squeezed for decades, a trend driven by populist politics, an obsession with commercialisation, and an aversion to diverse and critical commentary. That commentary, just like good science, is essential to a healthy democracy. You might even introduce yourself to a researcher in the humanities. Who knows where that kind of collaboration could go?

(Featured image – Angus Cleary)

Tristan will be presenting an update of his research at the 2022 ESA-SCBO joint conference in November. Registrations are currently open.