I think you have some reason to be concerned when you watch birds run out of their nests, as these appear to have a relatively high proportion of negative outcomes. However, I think your intent is good, and just because you noticed broken shells and dead birds does not mean these outcomes are directly attributable to your research. On the contrary, your baseline positive impact with the rookeries makes the project worthwhile.

Also, remember that you saw the rookery at one point in time. This cross-section may not be representative of the true impact that your presence has on these birds. It could be that the heightened stress of that year led to more chicks going without their parents for longer periods, and therefore more fleeing chicks.

I would argue that you have little to lose sleep over, given that you even stop to consider these potential negative consequences. This thinking puts you in a better position than most others, and for that you should be proud.

I didn’t read Greg’s article, so I’m sorry if some of these overlap with the article.

Thanks for your comments and the great link. I don’t know where draw the line. I look at the birds that have become extinct here in the US and most of them were specialists of some sort. When you consider that the Ivory-billed Woodpecker, Bachman’s Warbler, and, to some extent, the Carolina Parakeet all used the same old growth habitat, now almost entirely gone. They are birds of highly specialized niches and never in massive abundance. In the long run, they were one of many species to briefly appear and blink out of existence. Yes, we helped them along but they weren’t around in huge populations to begin with.

I wonder how we would approach the conservation of these species if they were still around today compared with how we would approach the crash of a massively abundant species like the Passenger Pigeon (flocks were described as darkening the sky). I suppose there are analogs. Look at how we have treated the swamps in Arkansas where the Ivory-billed sightings have occurred. Yet on the other hand, we haven’t dedicated that sort of resource or power of the Endangered Species Act to the catastrophic crash of the Red Knot over the past decade or so.

I don’t have an answer and probably never will. It’s something to consider though whenever I pick up a camera and walk into the field.

A very relevant commentary from Andrew Revkin et al. here:

http://dotearth.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/10/27/artists-in-the-arctic/

This post raises an important consideration that scientists work on with great frequency. In the scientific literature, there is a growing body of work that tries to systematically discern the presence of the observer effect…can something be studied without altering its behavior or dynamics. This is sometimes erroneously referred to as the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle; however, that is a very specific reference to a phenomenon in physics.

More pressing seems to be weighing the costs and benefits of harming a “subject” while engaging in its documentation. In this regard, science also has a very strict set of rules that governs work with vertebrates…effectively bioethics committees. The work of a photographer doesn’t seem as well defined and these are not clear cut choices…Earl has succinctly noted that the benefits of a few photos might well outweigh the costs of a few lost birds….

Now…how directly do we intervene into natural cycles (i.e. dry season rains) to try and reduce natural predation in the effort to save endangered species. If anthropogenic activities put a species on the brink of survival…do you let nature run its course once you have established a protected rookery or do you keep intervening…where’s the line?

Best,
Greg