
It was with increasing horror that I read the latest offering from
Courier columnist Jim
Crumley. Clearly perturbed by the recent media approach to the news that an adult puffin in Shetland had been caught on
webcam inflicting
GBH on a wee fluffy baby one - and was thus at the very least deserving of having an
ASBO slapped on it - the paper's long serving nature/conservation writer excoriated the "
Senseless thuggery among puffins is latest horror story of reality TV"-
ness of it all.
Nature should neither be for the elite nor dumbed down excessively, so I can see both sides of the argument, but then Mr
Crumley seemed to get personal. "
Bloggers are going ballistic, the way
bloggers do," he said. Ouch.
But there was worse to come. He continued critically, "Puffins after all, are supposed to be cute, clownish, and safe for children to have as cuddly toys and adults to magnetise to their fridge doors."
I have
one such magnet, which has adorned my fridge door for so long - the best part of twenty years - that I never really think about it now. But I thought about it last week because, as the photo shows, my fridge magnet depicts the aforementioned puffin, self-evidently in a clownish and caricatured manner which would probably not find favour with Mr
Crumley!
Which is clearly an approach to wildlife anathema to him, and he equates "society's bizarre preoccupation with public mourning" to the "world of wildlife celebrity" and the
ASBO puffin, not to mention the "bout of frenzied
internet mourning" attaching to the
news earlier this summer that one of the Loch of the
Lowes ospreys looked like it had popped its clogs.
The comparison with the celebrity culture is certainly valid and interesting. Moreover, it's also a legitimate perspective from which to criticise our contemporary relationship with nature. But as someone who enjoys wildlife primarily from an armchair - a bit like my politics - I also take issue with some of the more specific points raised by Mr
Crumley.
Of course, there's the usual element of, ahem, blogger paranoia on my part: "
Bloggers are going ballistic, the way
bloggers do", indeed! But in view of his discriminating approach to the way we enjoy nature, it's perhaps surprising that Mr
Crumley needs the dangers of stereotyping pointed out to him. And what's this, where he sets out his stall, for example?
...the fad among sundry pillars of the conservation establishment for thrusting cameras into the nests of unsuspecting birds plumbs the depths of the lowest common denominator to be found among the gawping classes, and transports blameless creatures like ospreys, sea eagles, peregrine falcons and puffins into the flaky world of Big Brother.
Thus I wonder what Mr
Crumley thinks qualifies as "going ballistic"? And are the birds the victims that he seems to portray them as (gosh, isn't this
victimhood thing yet another of "society's bizarre preoccupations"?) assuming that the human intrusion does them no harm? What's worse, those with a casual interest in nature watching birds via a
webcam, ringers trapping birds for scientific research or even
twitchers harassing rare migrants?
Mr
Crumley clearly likes his nature "red in tooth and claw", and those engaging with it should also experience it in its rawest form as well: "Why do some of us watch
webcam footage of a puffin on a computer screen from dawn till dusk instead of walking a clifftop somewhere and watching real puffins be real puffins?"
Well perhaps for the same reason that the author
writes about subjects such as football and politics rather than kicking a ball round the park or standing for elected office. Indeed, it would be great to live in the middle of nowhere making a living out of writing about nature and experiencing it at first hand - as Mr
Crumley seems to do - but people like myself live in the middle of towns and cities and have to earn a living in a less agreeable occupation. Does that disqualify us from engaging with wildlife on a casual basis, or should we confine ourselves to the ubiquitous herring gulls and feral pigeons in central Dundee, and get excited with the occasional lesser black-backed gull or have a wander up the Law for the odd glimpse of more exotic species such as the willow warbler or jay?
He also belittles the "highly selective nature of our
webcam obsessions", but from someone who tends to write articles about more exciting birds such as eagles, ospreys and swans rather than the likes of the diminutive
dunnock or the boring blackbird, this seems a bit rich. And it surely ill behoves someone who writes such specialist books as "
Waters of the Wild Swan" and "
Badgers on the Highland Edge" to criticise others as obsessives.
All this, together with "the whole people-are-too-stupid-for-words approach of
Springwatch Syndrome", Mr
Crumley says is "symptomatic of a conservation industry that has lost touch with nature".
Or perhaps it's just a case of utilising modern technology to bring nature closer to people who would otherwise be unable or even unwilling to engage with it, and doing so on various levels that might not appeal to experts like Mr
Crumley.
Of course, if he wants to crawl around on his hands and knees on some freezing winter afternoon trying to glimpse wildfowl on a Highland loch, then if that cooks his goose it's fine by me. But surely that shouldn't stop others experiencing wildlife by way of other, less ascetic approaches, and with different levels of knowledge.
And I suspect that if his slightly elitist approach to appreciating nature was taken to its logical conclusion then Mr
Crumley would be selling significantly fewer books, and his
Courier column would certainly have to go!
As a political cynic I can certainly sympathise with his criticism of Scottish National Heritage as the "ponderous bureaucracy that professional conservation has become", but there's surely a certain irony in Mr
Crumley slamming the organisation for "breathtaking arrogance"? And while there's clearly an element of dumbing down in play here, there's presumably a difference between that and making nature widely accessible?
But the fridge magnet is staying. I can just be thankful that Jim
Crumley will never see the pictures of the mallards in my bathroom!