Winds of Change

Mankind is really terrible at coping with change.

Despite seeing the daily environment around us change [sometimes gradually, sometimes all in a rush], we seem to be constantly amazed that these happen; despite being the most 'natural' of all processes. Media outlets warning [!] us about regular seasonal weather conditions - who would have thought that temperature drops and snow were things to be expected from late autumn to [frankly] late spring in the northern hemispheres? Granted the last few years have proven to have ever warming summers [which we are less well prepared for, but that's another story for another day].

We have 'successfully' built a society/economy around the least natural process. Things literally fall apart when any change is afoot. We assume that things staying the 'same' is best...certainly it is the 'easiest' approach. Countries close imaginary borders to people fleeing for their lives or simply wishing to start a new life, afresh in a new country. They brings skills, cultural insights and diversity. In nature, this is referred to as 'migration'. Most people are familiar with the idea that various animals and birds roam around countries and continents - searching for better opportunities [whilst giving previous locations time to recover]. There's no checkpoints, no passport control and if the 'native' inhabitants object to the influx, then they either fight their small corner/or move on elsewhere. Often, if resources are scarce, the migrants will simply continue on their journey - sometimes ending up in locations outside what we consider their 'normal' range.

Perhaps here lies the crux. Mankind is fascinated by the need to catalogue and classify everything. We think this creates structure...and it does; but it is entirely inflexible. Within our own societies we have created 'countries' which classify everything from natural environment to social and cultural norms. This means we can use this as an identifier - for all natural beings [sentient and otherwise]. But it means we get upset [for want of a better word] when systems economic societies have created do not 'go as planned'. Once we have be assigned our native country [usually at birth] we are expected to stay within its parameters. Migration is only encouraged when it is economically viable. We would rather belittle our own countrymen for not abiding by 'traditional' laws than accept that radicalised change is necessary.

Summer 2026 brought some incredible wildfires to the UK. Large swathes of the Cairngorms were consumed in flames; destroying thousands of acres/hectares of ancient Caledonian pine forests, along with the animals and birds that called it home. In the heart of Edinburgh, Scotland's capital city, the great ancient volcanic hill of Arthur's Seat, has been ablaze numerous summers; with the dubiously native gorse fully embracing the conflagration. Indeed it's survival strategy depends on fire; to spread seed and clear away other vegetation that gets in it's way. There was an extremely bizarre news article on the BBC earlier this year [I think], where the main photograph was a nettle and the reporter literally rejoicing that vegetation was starting to regrow on the burned areas. Have we become so disconnected from nature that we have forgotten the most basic principles?

Nature always comes back.

We've witnessed it at Chernobyl, Staten Island and Ypres [to name just a few]. Whether through natural or man-influenced disaster, the environment nearly always recovers. But it is rarely what was there before. There will be different trees, shrubs, ground flora; which in turn attracts different species of birds, amphibians, insects and animals.

And this is the reason mankind cannot cope. We think of areas as static places, often strongly locked in our memories - rather than dynamic ecosystems that are actually constantly changing, but subtle enough that we don't notice immediately.

The Pentland Hills are, for the most part, devoid of trees. The trees that once existed were felled a long time ago and replaced with sheep farms, military training exercise areas, small pockets of plantation woodland and heather moors for grouse shooting. All these areas are now closely 'managed' for a specific purpose; to the extent that natural succession is suppressed in order for the landscape to remain the same. Often at great cost. Moorland is routinely burned to encourage new heather growth for grouse to feed on [before wealthy idiots pay to shoot them]; young saplings are munched by sheep, cattle and deer - or manually removed by volunteer teams - simply for growing in 'the wrong place'. We call this 'management', but we are really attempting to control the most natural process that exists.

Arguably, there is some scope for some degree of 'management' in order to maintain habitat diversity and therefore a greater variety of flora and fauna...but again we must ask, to whom are we doing this for?

We routinely cull species which we have decided are not supposed be in certain places, or because there are too many of them:

• We cull grey squirrels because they are not native enough to the UK [interestingly enough red squirrels were culled in the 18th C due to the damage caused to pine trees];

• We cull red deer in the Highlands because they have no natural predator [having hunted these to extinction];

• We cull weasels, stoats and rats from the Scottish islands because they consume bird eggs [while we accept that the 'traditional' hunt of young gannets is acceptable - ok to be fair, most people don't actually accept this, but the leading environment body permits it]; and

• We actively burn, pull and dig out 'non-native' plant species which have monopolised areas [despite often selling the exact same species in local garden centres].

And to what end?

It feels unnatural for me, as an conservationist/ecologist, to think that perhaps we shouldn't be doing any of this. Most of the environmental conservation and habitat management carried out in Scotland [and across the wider world] is really just us trying to make amends. Either for the damage we think we've done [or those actions of our forbearers] or to simply return the habitat to what we remember it to be or what we would like it to be. We say diversity is important, but when pressed on why it is important there is often a selfish human need at the centre [e.g. 'this plant could become a suitable replacement for wheat' or 'these species have components that could help cure cancer'].

But nature doesn't care what was, has been or what we want. It is always evolving, moving forwards. It copes. It adapts. Summers are going to be warmer? We'll entice birds and animals from the continent [either because they like the warm; or because [somewhat depressingly] our warm is still cooler than elsewhere]. Vegetation which is more drought resistant will flourish, others will vanish. Some animal species will thrive, others will relocate. Migrate, if you will.

This is the natural order of things.

We just need to stop meddling and embrace the changes that are coming.

[Obviously we in the interim we need to strongly discourage actions that further global warming - but considering we've [on a global level] barely met any climate change goals, we need to wake up to the new reality in front of us].