Roughly 300,000 years ago, the world’s most prolific invasive species evolved in Africa. Many thousands of years later, a great number of these organisms left Africa, traveling to lands near and far. Slowly, nearly every ecosystem on Earth became infested with them. They discovered ways to alter the ecosystems around them. Fire was used to clear space and herd other animals. Land and water were used to cultivate plants of their choosing. Resources were extracted from the earth itself to create tools and structures.
As this species continued to grow and develop, entire ecosystems were wiped out. Forests were felled. Soil nutrients were depleted. Rivers and lakes dried up. No other organism could compete with such aggressive invaders. Eventually, substances derived from beings of old were discovered and put to use. Coal—and oil, later on—became these conquerors’ lifeblood. The resulting boom in industry and pollution put this species on an even greater path of destruction. As their system of food production became more refined and efficient, biodiversity across the globe began to plummet. Each new invention, each supposed solution, put an ever-greater strain on the planet’s systems. In the modern day, this species has encroached on every continent on the globe. It has stuck its grubby, little hands in nearly every crevice. For the survival of all other species on the planet, it would be best for these invaders to be eradicated.
The species I describe, as you have likely guessed, is us. Homo sapiens. Humans. For thousands of years, we have had a profound impact on the world around us, and this impact only seems to grow. We have single-handedly thrust this planet into what is thought to be a new geological epoch, known as the Anthropocene. If you have issues with the language, I used to describe us, then I have accomplished my goal. We rarely consider ourselves an invasive species, despite the negative effects we have had on the ecosystems around us. This classification we save for species many consider to be of less prominence than the noble human. Such animals as Burmese pythons, feral pigs, and European starlings are vilified for their behavior at the same time as we pat ourselves on the back for our own, upholding our own actions as steppingstones in the path of human progress.
Whether you are intrigued or outraged by this notion of mine, I hope to plant an idea into that wonderful garden in your brain. I don’t aim to completely vandalize humanity, nor do I hope to totally dismiss the very real threat that invasive species can pose to local ecosystems. A new perspective is all I desire to promote. A shift away from the denigration of organisms simply trying to survive in the area they find themselves, and a shift towards the critique of the human systems that placed them there in the first place.
A Peek into the World of Invasion Ecology
The term “invasive species,” and invasion ecology as a whole, can be traced back to the 1958 book The Ecology of Invasions by Animals and Plants, written by Charles Elton. Its origins go back much further than that, but Elton’s book defined it and brought it into the limelight. Since this book’s publication, invasion ecology has become a major sub-discipline of ecological studies, informing current research, public policies, and even executive orders.
According to Executive Order 13112, an invasive species is “an alien species whose introduction does or is likely to cause economic or environmental harm or harm to human health.” According to the EPA, damages from invasive species, affecting agriculture, rangeland, homes, yards, human health, fishing, food supplies, outdoor recreation, and the like, are estimated to be as high as $138 billion per year. They are thought to be involved in 70% of native aquatic species extinctions in this century and 42% of endangered species are thought to be affected by invasive species.
To address these issues, various management techniques are employed to eradicate invasive species in a certain area. An example of this is herbicide spraying, burning, and mowing to destroy patches of Phragmites on the shores of the Great Salt Lake. Other examples include creating incentives to hunt or capture certain species, such as Louisiana’s $6-per-tail bounty on nutria (AKA swamp rats). Burmese python populations in the Everglades are tackled in a similar manner. But is this the whole story? Is the way we frame these species problematic? Putting all of the blame on the organism, itself, may do more harm than good. A smokescreen can be created, obscuring the underlying, often human-caused issues that lead to the introduction of exotic species to unfamiliar ecosystems. Invasion ecology is founded upon a militaristic vocabulary, framing non-native species as the villains of a story that they have little control over—especially once they cause issues for humans.
The Power of Words
From the very beginning, all the way back to Elton’s foundational book, invasion ecology has used militaristic language and metaphors of war to portray so-called “invasive” species. If you are concerned with conservation, you have likely seen ads encouraging the public to take action against unwanted species. Common terminology includes “villains,” “monsters,” or “eradicate.” A clever poster for the spotted lanternfly states that they are wanted “dead or alive (but mostly dead).” The slogan “if you see ‘em, squash ‘em” stretches across it. Oftentimes, members of the public are encouraged to wage war against a particularly notorious species. The choice of words here is specific and targeted. They tell a story beyond what they mean on the page.
Let’s look specifically at the word of the day, “invasive,” for example. This implies that the species in question consciously invaded a local ecosystem, that is, entered it with the intent to conquer and control it. No species categorized as “invasive” has done this, however. In most cases, the initial introduction of an organism to an ecosystem it is not historically native to is the doing of humans. Feral pigs were originally brought to North America from Europe as a source of food. Burmese pythons were dumped in the Everglades by irresponsible pet owners. European starlings were systematically introduced to Central Park by an overzealous Shakespeare fan. Nutrias were transported to Louisiana for their value in the fur trade. The list goes on, but the central fact is that the term “invasive” is a gross misrepresentation of the reality of the situation at hand. These animals did not invade these environments; they were introduced by humans. They are not maliciously conquering an ecosystem for their own benefit; they are simply doing what all living organisms strive to do: survive and reproduce.
The choice of language here is important. Such negative vocabulary assigns artificial intent and malice to a process that is largely neutral in morality. Is a python a villain for attempting to preserve itself and its lineage? It did not purposefully enter the Everglades because it believed it could thrive in or take advantage of its ecosystem. It was placed there outside of its control and happens to thrive because it has no natural predators in the area. By using such abrasive words, people are able to shift the blame onto the shoulders of these organisms. This jargon has begun to characterize any species people don’t want in a certain area, regardless of if it is native or not. Weeds in an otherwise pristine, monocultured lawn, for example, are often described as invasive or intrusive. The current language used is, at best, morally detestable and, at worst, a dangerous oversimplification of natural processes that obscures other underlying issues.
A Change in Perspective
To really understand the root cause of the problems at hand, we have to shift our gaze. For a long time, all eyes have been on the introduced species, and many mouths have blamed them as the perpetrator of our problems. A different perspective, however, may illustrate them not as the perpetrator, but as a victim. Another victim of human hubris. Not the hubris of all humans, but of a select few that believe they have power over the natural systems that were set in motion long ago. I have given examples of the origins of some notorious introduced species. These are animals who were taken from their natural ecosystems, their homes, and placed in an unfamiliar environment. What were some of the rationales behind these dispositions? The fur trade. The exotic pet trade. Hunting. They were brought to North America to serve humans in some way. Then, when we no longer needed them, we discarded them. Now we call them “invasive,” blaming them for the actions that we took.
The threat that introduced species pose to local ecosystems can be drastic, that can’t be denied. Spending millions of dollars on eradication campaigns, however, may not be the best use of our time or money. In some cases, this is a losing battle. Looking critically at the way we interact with and portray non-human species is vital in preventing species from being introduced to fragile ecosystems in the first place.
Anthropocentrism is the idea that humankind is the central, most important group on the planet. This dangerous way of perceiving ourselves leads us to believe that we can do whatever want—it makes us think that we can release European starlings in Central Park because they were in Henry IV. Shedding this notion is an important first step in the prevention of species introduction. Taking further measures to regulate the importation and trade of species is also necessary. Using accusatory, malicious language toward those creatures, however, is not productive and does not address the problem at hand.
