Conservation group calls on government to ban insect-killing neonicotinoid pesticides outright
A national “butterfly emergency” has been declared by Butterfly Conservation after the lowest Big Butterfly Count since records began.
An average of just seven butterflies per 15-minute count were recorded by participants in this summer’s butterfly count, the lowest in the survey’s 14-year history.
For millennia, Indigenous knowledge holders have passed down lore to the next generation. Much lore describes the relationships between people and Country, including custodial responsibilities to care for other species as kin.
Each species carries a history of movement and change in its DNA. By quantifying how related one individual of a species is to another, evolutionary ecologists can infer how a species migrated in the deep past.
When we combine both types of knowledge – lore and genetics – we can make new discoveries. Our recent body of research uses genomic techniques and interviews with First Nations knowledge holders to investigate whether First Nations Peoples moved two culturally important food sources, bunya pines and black bean trees.
The bunya pine (Araucaria bidwillii) is an ancient native conifer of cultural and spiritual significance to several language groups in eastern Australia. It’s known as bonyi bonyi in Wakka Wakka and bunyi in Kabi Kabi.
For thousands of years, Indigenous groups gathered to share the edible nuts at bunya gatherings at locations such as Wakka Wakka Country in the Western Downs and Kabi Kabi Country in the Sunshine Coast hinterland. The last major known gathering took place in 1902, but they have restarted in recent years.
Bunya pines grow throughout Queensland’s southeast. They’re also found 1,400 km north, in the Wet Tropics near Cairns. In a recent study, co-author Patrick Cooke interviewed First Nations groups in both locations in southeast Queensland and the Wet Tropics to record Indigenous biocultural knowledge on the use of bunya.
In a companion study, Traditional Owners and this article’s lead author collected DNA samples from bunya pine leaves to retrace the conifer’s historical movement in its northern and southern locations. Genetic results were interpreted in the context of biocultural knowledge and archival evidence.
What did we find? In the Wet Tropics, we could not find traditional names or biocultural knowledge for bunya. DNA samples showed no evidence of its dispersal by people or animals. This suggests the species was not an important food source for First Nations groups in the region. In the absence of human-assisted dispersal, the remnant stands of bunya have become genetically isolated.
By contrast, groups in southeast Queensland had rich biocultural knowledge of bunya. DNA samples showed clear evidence of movement, consistent with people actively moving the species around. But when we analysed bunya patches pre-dating European colonisation, we found genetic patterns suggesting planting was sporadic and fairly localised.
Our Indigenous knowledge interviews and historical literature give crucial context. Knowledge holders told us only those with custodial rights to bunya were permitted to collect and share the edible cones, which likely restricted the movement of bunya out of existing Country.
This changed when First Nations people were displaced by European settlers. Wakka Wakka people planted bunya at Cherbourg mission in southeastern Queensland and Mulli Mulli mission on Githabul Country in northern New South Wales to maintain cultural connections.
Like bunya pines, black bean trees (Castanospermum australe) have been an important food source for thousands of years. While the large seeds are toxic, they can be made edible.
Here, we have found evidence this rainforest species was spread on purpose – and rapidly.
The tree does not need to have its toxic seeds eaten. Instead, it relies on its seed pods floating down rivers to new locations. Curiously, the tree can be found far from any waterways. How did it get there?
We found evidence Bundjalung groups spread black bean thousands of years ago, as they walked the ridgelines of the Nightcap, Border and McPherson ranges in northern New South Wales. This route follows the Nguthungulli Songline, a cultural pathway tracing the journeys of an ancestral spirit (likely to represent a real person) who left “bean tree” seeds as he journeyed inland from the east coast.
Samples taken adjacent to the Nguthungulli Songline showed higher levels of genetic diversity compared to other sample sites. This is what we would expect to see if seeds from different areas had been deliberately walked uphill along the songline and subsequently spread downstream through the waterways.
Ongoing genetic analyses suggest the black bean tree remained in small coastal pockets until Bundjalung groups walked its seeds northwards into southeast Queensland.
The Bundjalung story of Three Brothers tells of the arrival or return of key ancestors of Bundjalung peoples and related language groups Githabul and Yugambeh to coastal northern NSW. All three language groups use the name “bugam” for the black bean seed, which suggests a rapid transfer or shared ancestral connection to the species.
These stories raise interesting questions about why Indigenous groups carried and nurtured plants in some cases and not others.
In the Wet Tropics, for instance, the lack of evidence for movement of black bean and bunya could be linked to different dietary preferences and alternative edible nuts.
In northern NSW and southeast Queensland, bunya gatherings brought far-flung groups and kin together. We speculate these social and cultural reasons may have been seen as more important than simply increasing food production by planting the tree in new locations.
But the deliberate movement of black bean along the Nguthungulli Songline shows some groups took the tree with them to ensure access to its nuts.
Read more: Iconic boab trees trace journeys of ancient Aboriginal people
For years, researchers thought domesticating a plant for human use was relatively straightforward. But newer research suggests it was a lengthier and more complex process than we thought.
Unpicking the deeper past using First Nations lore and genetic analysis is a promising combination to shed light on domestication. We hope it will become more widely used.
As we continue, we are likely to find examples of where Indigenous movement of plants worked to domesticate landscapes. That is, social and cultural preferences of ancestral groups drove ecological transformations which seem, at first glance, to be natural.
Read more: Farmers or foragers? Pre-colonial Aboriginal food production was hardly that simple
Monica Fahey works for the Research Centre for Ecosystem Resilience, Botanic Gardens of Sydney. She received funding from the Australian Research Council. She is also affiliated with Macquarie University.
Emilie Ens receives funding from the Australian Research Council, The Nature Conservancy, NSW DCCEEW and the Origin Energy Foundation.
Oliver Costello is a Bundjalung Custodian and Executive Director at Jagun Alliance Aboriginal Corporation. He receives funding from The University of Melbourne; Bush Heritage Australia; the University of Queensland; the Ian Potter Foundation; the Hermon Slade Foundation; CSIRO; the Victorian Government Department of Environment, Land, Water and Planning (DELWP); Natural Resource Management (NRM) Regions Australia, The Nature Conservancy and The Australian Conservation Foundation.
Patrick Cooke is a Gangalidda Custodian and affiliated with Macquarie University.
Maurizio Rossetto does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
The recent proposal by Vanuatu, Fiji and Samoa to recognise ecocide as a crime against humanity is timely and could provide a global framework of accountability for environmental damage.
Ecocide is defined as acts of “unlawful or wanton” environmental destruction, committed in the knowledge of their likely severe, widespread or long-term effects.
Last week, the Pacific Island nations formally requested an amendment to the principal treaty of the International Criminal Court (ICC) to add ecocide alongside genocide, war crimes and aggression to the international community’s list of most serious crimes.
There is a long way to go before ecocide is recognised by the ICC, if it ever happens. Discussions of the proposal will likely take several years and much will depend on the level of support the proposal gains from the 124 countries party to the ICC.
But for Aotearoa New Zealand, this is a chance to champion a progressive legal response and show leadership in the region.
It is no surprise the ecocide proposal is being driven by several small island developing states, given they are exposed to some of the most severe consequences of climate change.
In the Pacific, it is vitally important to equip the region with the necessary tools to mitigate and adapt to grave ecological change. This includes legal tools. An offence of ecocide could be used to significant effect, particularly if given an international dimension.
Alleged offenders are unlikely to live in the Pacific Islands. Domestic climate litigation in Pacific nations would have little impact. This is why the proposal for ecocide to be made an international crime is so critical.
New Zealand is a founding member of the Rome Statute, which established the ICC. It continues to advocate for the importance of the court’s role as a last resort to try the most serious crimes against humanity.
Few states will want to publicly oppose a proposal aimed at countering the most serious acts of ecological damage at a time of growing awareness of the state of nature.
For New Zealand’s government, early and vocal support for acknowledging the crime of ecocide would line up with public attitudes. Nearly two thirds of New Zealanders support more ambitious emissions targets in response to climate change, while more than 80% consider improving water quality as important.
For M?ori in particular, climate and environment have always been important. While climate change affects everyone, M?ori are disproportionately affected and particularly vulnerable.
Supporting this initiative, brought by Pacific neighbours, would also further cement Aotearoa’s reputation and role as a regional leader.
Since it became operational in 2002, the jurisdiction of the ICC is limited by the principle of complementarity. In other words, the ICC exists to complement national judicial systems, not to replace them.
This means the ICC can only proceed with an investigation or case where a state party is unable or unwilling to do so. Legislation exists in New Zealand to ensure genocide, crimes against humanity and water crimes can be dealt with in domestic criminal law, with the consent of the Attorney-General.
However, it is important to note that crimes listed in the Rome Statute are not automatically incorporated into domestic law. For instance, the crime of aggression is not currently included in New Zealand criminal law.
In time, ecocide could find its way into domestic legislation. This could offer a more appropriate legal response to acts causing severe environmental damage than those currently available, for example in the Resource Management Act or as currently under consideration in tort law.
A recognition of ecocide could open the possibility for more effective environmental protection through robust deterrent.
Should ecocide eventually be included as an international crime (and even a domestic one), it would doubtless raise many substantive and procedural legal questions.
For example, current ICC procedures include reparation for victims and allow them to participate in proceedings. For crimes with widespread environmental damage and potentially millions of victims, this may not be practical.
But such considerations should not stand in the way of an innovative and important new criminal offence.
The crime of genocide was adopted in 1948 as a result of the horrors of the second world war, and much work was necessary to define and delimit it. Faced with an array of existential threats from ecological crises, it is timely that an ecological crime has been proposed.
Aotearoa was the first country in the world to give a river the legal status of a person. It should now follow that we support this proposal to criminalise ecocide, for the sake of our own environment and that of our neighbours.
The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Productivity Commission chair Danielle Wood says she welcomes concessions made by the Albanese government to put clearer scrutiny of proposals for industry assistance into its Future Made in Australia legislation.
The notoriously shy yellow-eyed bird edged out other New Zealand birds to win the annual competition designed to raise awareness of threatened species.