[Pollinator] text for Toronto Star article
Kimberly Winter
nappcoordinator at hotmail.com
Mon Aug 8 13:51:13 PDT 2005
Aug. 7, 2005. 01:00 AM
Rescuing the ghosts among us
Bees make our world possible, thanks to their vital role as pollinators.
Now entire species are going extinct and scientists are playing catch-up
PETER CALAMAI
NATIONAL SCIENCE REPORTER
In his retirement, Sherlock Holmes fussed over them. Poet William Butler
Yeats yearned for a island glade alive with their buzz. The powerful Medici
family, rulers of Florence, adopted their form as its golden emblem.
Throughout recorded time, bees have been humanity's universal symbol of
industry and a constant reminder that we depend on pollinating insects for
much of what we eat and is beautiful to the eye.
And also for things not as obvious as wildflowers or honey, such as
pollinating the berries that sustain songbirds, the grains that feed beef
cattle and the flax that goes into paper money.
"When you explain the importance of bees and the pollinators to people, it's
like you were telling them that ghosts lived among us, an unseen army of
workers on which we're very reliant," says Laurie Adams, executive director
of the Washington, D.C.-based North American Pollinator Protection Campaign.
Many scientists are increasingly concerned that bees may really be turning
into ghosts; that extinction may be stalking not only commercial hive bees
but also thousands of species of wild bees that ensure that flowers bloom
and crops ripen.
Some troubling signs:
More than 400 species of wild bees in western Europe are listed as
threatened in the national Red Lists compiled for the International Union
for the Conservation of Nature.
Many species of bumblebees have declined sharply in recent years, and field
naturalists have found no evidence of several species in locales they once
frequented.
The number of commercially managed honeybee colonies in the U.S. has plunged
from almost 6 million in the 1940s to below 2 million in 1996.
Two once common species of bumblebees, one from the east coast of North
America and one from the west, are missing and presumed gone.
There's no shortage of likely culprits either. Habitat loss, misuse of
agricultural chemicals, infestations by parasitic mites, a glitch in
reproduction genetics and the introduction of aggressive foreign species
have all been blamed.
As well, there is no solid starting point from which to measure the rate of
decline of bee populations.
"It's much easier to show where something is present than where it is
absent," says Simon Potts, a leading bee biologist based at Britain's
Reading University.
Especially for bees. No one knows with any certainty how many different
kinds of bees call Earth home. The best guess is between 25,000 and 30,000
species, of which roughly 1,000 are found in Canada.
Then there's the problem of where to look. Many species are solitary,
meaning the bees live individually rather than in communal nests or hives.
If the pollen is more plentiful in another field, they'll buzz off.
Finally, there's the biggest challenge: What is that bee buzzing angrily in
my net? Not only is there no comprehensive printed guide to bee
identification, there aren't many experts who can identify all the species
in any one country, much less around the world.
"There are probably only one or two people who could actually ID all the bee
species in Canada," says Amro Zayed, a bee researcher in the biology
department at York University. "If we had extinctions in the past, we
wouldn't have noticed them."
Just weeks ago, Zayed published research that significantly upped the ante
in the bee survival debate. The PhD student and his supervisor, York
professor Laurence Packer, used computer simulations to calculate that
species of solitary bees are 10 times less able than other insects to
rebound from a random population crash.
The reasons are complex, most of them stemming from the peculiar genetic
mechanism that determines the sex of newborn bees, wasps and ants.
In small populations, this mechanism can sometimes turn female bees into
sterile males, greatly increasing their risk of extinction.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
`If we had extinctions in the past, we wouldn't have noticed them'
Amro Zayed
Bee researcher, York University
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This high proportion of dud males isn't a threat to apian survival as long
as there is a large enough gene pool, says Zayed.
"Above a thousand individuals you're usually safe, so long as that's the
breeding population," he says.
But many species of solitary bees live in isolated small populations, each
bee in its own burrow together forming a bee "city." If the city's
population is below a thousand, say the York researchers, the bees face
longer odds at recovering from any sort of natural population setback, such
as a killer cold snap.
"It's a surprise to me that the extinction risk is so high," says Packer,
who began studying bees in the mid-1970s and uses "bugsrus" as his email
name.
More such surprises are probable, now that the health of bees (and other
insect pollinators, like butterflies) is getting increased scientific
attention in Europe and North America.
As part of a five-year, $18-million diversity project funded by the European
Community, Simon Potts and scores of other researchers are attempting a
limited nose count of bees and other pollinating insects. Starting last
year, bee-counters have been fanning out to collecting spots, armed in some
cases with historical records from the Victorian era.
"In 18 to 24 months, we will have a lot of confidence in saying whether
decline in bee numbers is a real widespread problem or not," Potts says.
A similar bee census remains a distant dream in North America, although
there is some movement after years of stagnation. The U.S. National Academy
of Sciences recently appointed a panel of 14 experts to analyze all
published studies about pollinators. By the end of 2006, the panel is
supposed to declare whether there is a decline in bees and other
pollinators, the probable causes, the likely impact and potential remedies.
University of Guelph professor Peter Kevan, an entomologist, is the only
Canadian on the panel and a world-recognized bee researcher. He points out
that this country has already experienced some serious bee scares.
In the 1970s, for instance, sloppy aerial pesticide spraying against spruce
budworm in New Brunswick devastated the native honey bees that naturally
pollinated the province's blueberry crop.
"For several years there weren't enough blueberries to be worth harvesting
in central New Brunswick, and since then the growers have to pay to have
hives brought out to their fields," Kevan says.
A serious decline in bees and other pollinators can have serious
ramifications because the effects cascade through an ecosystem. The
disappearance of suitable bee habitat in Central America, for instance, has
been fingered as the likely reason that some trees there are no longer
reproducing sexually by setting seed but instead hive off clones.
"I don't think we want to find out if that will happen here by conducting
the experiment by mistake," Kevan says.
Nor need we, says pollinator campaign Laurie Adams.
A woman with the energy of an entire beehive, Adams rhymes off a dozen
measures possible right now to enhance the survival chances of bees and
other pollen-spreading creatures, including preserving some "scruffy"
patches of land in subdivisions and "environmentally protected" swaths on
golf courses.
Just as important is changing the view that bees are something you either
swat or run away from because of the sting, says Adams.
"We need to talk about the things that make bees charismatic how they care
for their children, how some communicate with a dance, how they navigate
with their own GPS and how some even sleep inside flowers at night," she
says.
And bees usually have more important things on their tiny but powerful minds
than stinging people.
Not one sting was reported during the four months last summer when a quarter
million people visited a bee garden the group erected below Capitol Hill in
Washington D.C.
Though Adams acknowledges that she was stung by a bee recently.
"It was hard for me not to say, Look, don't you know what I'm doing here
week after week for you guys?"
Additional articles by Peter Calamai
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