Biodiversity: Integrating Conservation and Production: Case Studies from Australian Farms, Forests and Fisheries

The case studies arose from a meeting of 250 farmers, foresters and fishers from all Australian states, who met in Launc...

Author: Ted Lefroy | Kay Bailey | Greg Unwin | Tony Norton

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The case studies arose from a meeting of 250 farmers, foresters and fishers from all Australian states, who met in Launceston as guests of the community group Tamar Natural Resource Management to reflect on the question: ‘Is it possible to be good environmental managers and prosper in our businesses?’ As well as tales of environmental hope, there are also messages about the limits of duty of care, the need to share the costs of achieving society’s expectations, and the possibility of learning from unlikely places. Biodiversity: Integrating Conservation and Production includes the seven ‘Tamar Principles’, distilled by the delegates from the meeting for those on the front line. Ted Lefroy trained as an agronomist, working in Queensland, Papua New Guinea and Western Australia before starting a research career focused on the environmental consequences of agriculture. In 2003 he was awarded a Eureka Prize and in 2005 he moved to the University of Tasmania as Director of the Centre for Environment. Kay Bailey trained as a geographer and spent 25 years working in the environmental field for the Australian and Northern Territory governments in Canberra, Kakadu, Darwin and Alice Springs. In 2004 she took up her current position of Executive Officer with Tamar NRM in Launceston.

Tony Norton is Foundation Professor of Agricultural Ecology at the University of Tasmania and Tasmanian Institute of Agricultural Research. He is a landscape ecologist and has published over 260 scientific articles including five books on spatial information science, NRM, biodiversity conservation and environmental policy.

BIODIVERSITY: INTEGRATING CONSERVATION AND PRODUCTION CASE STUDIES FROM AUSTRALIAN FARMS, FORESTS AND FISHERIES

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LEFROY • BAILEY • UNWIN • NORTON

Greg Unwin is a forest ecologist and Senior Lecturer in Forest Ecosystems and Agroforestry in the School of Geography and Environmental Studies, University of Tasmania. His research interests centre on the dynamics of tropical and temperate forest ecosystems and the ecophysiological processes which sustain forest diversity and productivity.

BIODIVERSITY: INTEGRATING CONSERVATION AND PRODUCTION

AUSTRALIA’S EXPERIENCE in community-based environmental repair is unique in the world, with no shortage of analysis by bureaucrats, academics and environmentalists. This collection of 17 case studies gives a view from ground level. It includes heroic accounts of families who changed their way of farming and their relationship to the land so significantly that they found they could stop handfeeding stock during a drought and see the bush coming back. It describes the experience with ‘bush tenders’, which were oversubscribed, as farmers competed with each other for stewardship payments to manage their grazing lands for endangered ground-nesting birds as well as beef and wool. And it tells of a group of wheat growers who plant patches of grassland for beneficial insects that save them tens of thousands of dollars a year in pesticide bills.

Editors: Ted Lefroy, Kay Bailey, Greg Unwin & Tony Norton

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© CSIRO 2008 All rights reserved. Except under the conditions described in the Australian Copyright Act 1968 and subsequent amendments, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, duplicating or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner. Contact CSIRO PUBLISHING for all permission requests. National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry Biodiversity : integrating conservation and production : case studies from Australian farms, forests and fisheries / editor, Ted Lefroy ... [et al.]. 9780643094581 (pbk.) Bibliography. Biodiversity – Australia – Case studies Biodiversity conservation – Australia – Case studies. Vegetation management – Australia – Case studies. Plant diversity conservation – Australia – Case studies. Lefroy, Edward C. (Ted C.) 333.950994 Published by CSIRO Publishing 150 Oxford St (PO Box 1139) Collingwood VIC 3066 Australia Telephone: Local call: Fax: Email: Website:

+61 3 9662 7666 1300 788 000 (Australia only) +61 3 9662 7555 [email protected] www.publish.csiro.au

Front cover Aerial photo of ‘Elverton’, Blessington, Tas, courtesy of Michael Castley from Private Forests Tasmania. Photo of people by Jennifer Hemer. Edited by Adrienne de Kretser Cover and text design by James Kelly Original cover concept by Julia Dineen Set in 10/12.5 Adobe Minion and ITC Stone Sans Typeset by Desktop Concepts Pty Ltd, Melbourne Printed in Australia by BPA Print Group Supported by Australia and New Zealand Banking Group Limited

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Contents Preface Contributors Acknowledgements

vii viii x

Conservation and production 1

Science, ethics and emotion in the politics of biodiversity Pete Hay

2

Finding opportunity in the challenge Severn Cullis-Suzuki

3

Reflections on landscape integration: lessons from the past and principles for the future David Lindenmayer

4

Consuming the Earth Barney Foran

3 13

21 31

Personal case studies 5

Balancing the three-legged stool: a case study of forest conversion and conservation Ian Dickenson, AO

45

6

Farming from first principles David Marsh

55

7

Environmental restoration as a precursor to production gains John and Robyn Ive

63

8

Regenerative agriculture: the case for dialogue with nature Graham Strong

75

9

People and their sense of place Cynthia and Tom Dunbabin

89

Groups, communities and catchments 10 Managing floodplains in northern Australia Tony Searle

101

11 The value of biodiversity to integrated pest management Cam Nicholson

109

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12 Using production improvements to interest farmers in nature conservation David Walker and Rob Frend

119

13 Testing market-based instruments for conservation in northern Victoria Carla Miles

133

14 Working with farmers to improve habitat for ground-nesting birds Alexandra Knight and Stuart Whitten 15 Achieving regional conservation targets through market-based instruments in southern Queensland Kate Steel 16 The Australian rice industry’s Environmental Champions program Janelle McGufficke, Louise Adcock, Les Gordon and Leigh Vial 17 Profitable and biodiverse wool production: the Land, Water & Wool program Jann Williams and Mary Goodacre

147

155 167

177

Research guiding conservation 18 How research influences management: a case study of barramundi in northern Australia Janet Ley

189

19 Tailoring forest management to the habitat needs of the giant velvet worm Simon Grove, Marie Yee and Laura Borrer Closs

205

20 New approaches to tackling fisheries bycatch in tropical prawn trawling David Maynard

217

21 Measuring the biodiversity values of a small-scale farm forestry enterprise in northern Tasmania Greg Unwin, John Lord and Arthur Lyons

225

Conclusions 22 The Tamar Principles Bernard Lloyd, Ted Lefroy and Kay Bailey

237

23 Closing the adaptive management loop: why practical experience is necessary but not sufficient and science is essential but not always right Ted Lefroy

249

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Preface In June 2007, 250 people met in Launceston, northern Tasmania, at the conference Biodiversity: balancing conservation and production. The idea for the conference came from the community organisation Tamar NRM. Like other conservation groups that emerged from Australia’s Landcare movement of the 1980s, this group was challenged by the expectation that farmers, foresters and fishers could take on the job of repairing and rehabilitating their environment while maintaining the viability of their businesses. Like others in the Landcare movement, they realised that education and awareness, although essential, are not sufficient. People need practical guidance to learn how others have invested time and money in environmental projects and remained in business. There has been no shortage of advice and encouragement from governments, scientists and environmental advocates but there remains a thirst for real-life examples of what people have been doing, what has worked and what hasn’t. Hence the subtitle of the conference – Case studies from the real world – and the subtitle of this book – Case studies from Australian farms, forests and fisheries. The conference was held 20 years after then Prime Minister Bob Hawke announced the Decade of Landcare and ushered in an era of large public programs directed at environmental repair. The programs depended on community participation and have relied heavily on the assumption that we can have our cake and eat it – that we can make gains in the state of the environment that involve little or no cost to production yet improve our landscape and our livelihoods. We now know it is not that simple and we were keen to learn from first-hand experience. Conference delegates fell roughly into three groups. Farmers, foresters and fishers presented first-hand accounts of what they had been doing in their own businesses and heard about the experience of others. There were also extension workers, advisers and community co-ordinators working for government agencies, regional catchment management organisations and farmer groups who offered case studies of community projects and large-scale conservation programs. Finally, there were scientists who had been trying to find ways to improve environmental management, in many cases working closely with farmers, foresters and fishers. This book is structured around those three groups with 17 case studies from the 55 presented at the conference. Preceding those are keynote addresses from four prominent voices in the fields of ethics, advocacy, science and the future. The book concludes with the Tamar Principles, the collective wisdom of 100 delegates who spent a day synthesising what they had heard over the previous three days into seven steps for the future. The editors wish to thank Amanda Bruce, Julia Dineen and Chris Davies for their help in editing and illustrating these case studies; Ian Sauer for the original concept; Christopher Strong for securing financial support for the conference; the conference sponsors (see Acknowledgements); the four keynote speakers who provided an inspiring introduction to the issues; and finally the delegates who so freely shared their experience, wisdom and enthusiasm. Ted Lefroy, Kay Bailey, Greg Unwin and Tony Norton June 2008

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Contributors Louise Adcock

Rice Growers Association, PO Box 706, Leeton NSW 2705.

Kay Bailey Tamar NRM, PO Box 396, Launceston TAS 7250. [email protected]. Laura Borrer Closs Severn Cullis-Suzuki

Forest Research, Alice Holt Lodge, Farnham, Surrey GU10 4LH, UK. University of British Columbia, Vancouver, BC, Canada.

Ian Dickenson, AO Elverton Pastoral Pty Ltd, Blessington TAS 7212. [email protected]. Cynthia and Tom Dunbabin ‘Bangor’, Dunalley TAS 7177. [email protected]. Barney Foran Fenner School of Environment and Society, Australian National University, Canberra ACT 0200. [email protected]. Rob Frend

‘Dimberoy’, Milroy Rd, Milroy NSW 2380.

Mary Goodacre

‘Goimbla’, Canowindra NSW 2804. [email protected].

Les Gordon Rice Growers Association, PO Box 706, Leeton NSW 2705. Simon Grove Forestry Tasmania, GPO Box 207, Hobart TAS 7001. Pete Hay Geography and Environmental Studies, University of Tasmania, Private Bag 78, Hobart TAS 7001. [email protected]. John and Robyn Ive ‘Talaheni’, Yass NSW, PO Box 337, Hall ACT 2618. [email protected]. Alexandra Knight Murray Catchment Management Authority, PO Box 797, Albury NSW 2640. [email protected]. Ted Lefroy Centre for Environment, University of Tasmania, Hobart TAS 7001. Ted. [email protected]. Janet Ley Florida Fish and Wildlife Research Institute, St Petersburg Florida 33701, USA. [email protected]. David Lindenmayer Fenner School of Environment and Society, Australian National University, Canberra ACT 0200. [email protected]. Bernard Lloyd

GPO Box 1737, Hobart TAS 7001. [email protected].

John Lord ‘Springmount’, Blackwood Creek TAS 7301. Arthur Lyons

Private Forests Tasmania, Kings Meadows TAS 7249.

Janelle McGufficke Rice Growers Association, PO Box 706, Leeton NSW 2705. [email protected]. David Marsh

‘Allendale’, Boorowa NSW 2586. [email protected].

David Maynard Australian Maritime College, University of Tasmania, PO Box 986, Launceston TAS 7250. [email protected]. Carla Miles Goulburn Broken Catchment Management Authority, Shepparton VIC 3630. [email protected]. Cam Nicholson Southern Farming Systems, PO Box 8047, Newtown VIC 3220. [email protected]. Tony Searle ‘Melaleuca Station’, Point Stuart, PO Box 3268, Darwin NT 0801. [email protected].

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Contributors

Kate Steel Regional Biodiversity Officer, Queensland Murray–Darling Committee, PO Box 1078, Roma QLD 4455. [email protected]. Graham Strong

‘Arcadia’, Narrandera NSW 2700. [email protected].

Greg Unwin School of Geography and Environmental Studies, University of Tasmania, Launceston TAS 7250. Leigh Vial Rice Growers Association, PO Box 706, Leeton NSW 2705. David Walker Liverpool Plains Land Management Committee, PO Box 546, Gunnedah NSW 2380. [email protected]. Stuart Whitten CSIRO Sustainable Ecosystems, GPO Box 284, Canberra ACT 2601. [email protected]. Jann Williams NRM Insights Pty Ltd, PO Box 3263, UMDC, Ulverstone TAS 7315. [email protected]. Marie Yee Forestry Tasmania, GPO Box 207, Hobart TAS 7001.

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Acknowledgements The editors would like to thank the following organisations for their sponsorship and support of the conference Biodiversity: balancing conservation and production, held on 26–28 June 2007 in Launceston, Tasmania.

s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s s

ANZ AT&M Integrated Marketing – Rethink Australian Maritime College/National Centre for Marine and Coastal Conservation Becks Home Hardware Bureau of Rural Sciences, Partners in Vegetation Management Group CB&M Design CSIRO Sustainable Ecosystems Delamere Vineyards Department of Primary Industries & Water Europcar Greenhaus Greening Australia, Joint Venture Agroforestry Program Hydro Tasmania Impact Fertilizers Kyeema Seafoods Land & Water Australia National Vegetation Knowledge Force NRM North Old Launceston Seaport Origin Energy Private Forests Tasmania Tasmanian Alkaloids Tasmanian Farmers & Graziers Association

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CONSERVATION AND PRODUCTION

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1 Science, ethics and emotion in the politics of biodiversity Pete Hay

W

e are living, right now, through the sixth mass extermination of species in the history of planet Earth. From the perspective of deep time, this is the clear and unmistakably most salient fact about the times in which we live. And yet, in the league table of issues as measured by what preoccupies the organs of mass media, or what exercises politicians and voters at elections, it is clear that the fact of mass species extinction is somewhere in the middle of the pack. This chapter sets forth reasons why so many do not see mass extinction as the defining – the very signature – fact and issue of our times. It also discusses why the issue merits an overwhelming policy priority from governments. This will take us on a Cook’s Tour of recent philosophical reconsiderations of humankind’s relationship to other life forms, and of the tension between a science-driven emphasis on biodiversity and the emotional bias of ‘ordinary’ people towards the fate of ‘charismatic’ species. The evidence suggests that even as species disappear at a possible rate of 17 per hour, a revolutionary reconstruction of our obligations towards non-human forms of life is gathering pace. There used to be a car sticker popular in Hobart, one of a plethora of motorised slogans countering what many Tasmanians consider to be the menace of the green ‘contagion’. Most stickers reveal more about the minds that devised them than anything else, but the sticker I have in mind hit the nail right on the head. It read something like this: ‘Everything you own, wear, use and eat has been cut down or dug from the ground’. This is absolutely true. Nothing in the artefactual world is spun from thin air – all our clothing, all our toys and tools, all our food, the very walls that shelter us from the elements, began as something alive that had its life terminated, or something inert and (usually) underground that has been dug up, refined and adapted to human use. Nothing can change this. If we are not going to interfere in the processes

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Biodiversity: Integrating Conservation and Production

of nature – if we do not cut down and dig up – we are destined to return to a short and brutal life in the caves, a life of browsing subsistence, a life devoid of art, thought, security and anything other than the most rudimentary of society. For the very great majority of us, ditching culture and civilisation is emphatically not an option. So we must harvest, we must mine, we must process, we must deploy technologies of distribution and exchange. Here is another reality. There are some ideologically driven sceptics (such as Julian Simon of the University of Maryland), but those who actually do the science estimate that extinctions are occurring in the range of 17 000 species per year (Edward Wilson’s mathematically derived 1988 estimate; Wilson 1988) to a mind-boggling estimate of an annual loss of 150 000 species (Diamond 1992). Richard Leakey (with Roger Lewin) argues that even if we take a lower figure in this range, e.g. 30 000 species per year, that is an extinction rate 120 000 times higher than the ‘normal’ or ‘background’ extinction rate, which the fossil record establishes at ‘an average of one every four years’ (Leakey & Lewin 1996). The problem is largely one of habitat loss. By the mid-1990s, 80 000 square miles of forest were falling each year (40–50% higher than a mere decade previously), with the result that only about 10% of the original tropical forest cover is still in place. By 2050 that will be reduced to a ‘tiny remnant’ (Leakey & Lewin 1996). If these trends continue, they conclude, the world stands to lose something like 50% of all species. Does this matter? Conservation biologists have always assumed that it does, and much of the burgeoning corpus of scientific literature in this area begins from this starting-point, assuming it to be self-evident and beyond a need for defending. The literature of popular science is another matter; here, spirited explanations of the need to maintain biodiversity are much more easily located. For example, in his widely read 2005 book, Collapse: how societies choose to fail or survive, Jared Diamond notes that it is one thing to argue for the future of embattled species that are large and charismatic but much more difficult to generate a critical mass of support for the defence of species that fall below the radar of public regard. He articulates an archetypal response: ‘Who cares? Do you really care less for humans than for some lousy useless little fish or weed, like the snail darter or Furbish lousewort?’ He answers the rhetorical question thus: This response misses the point that the entire natural world is made up of wild species providing for us free with services that can be very expensive, and in some cases impossible, for us to supply ourselves. Elimination of lots of lousy little species regularly causes big harmful consequences for humans, just as does randomly knocking out many of the lousy little rivets holding together an airplane. Here is the same argument, put by Edward O. Wilson in his popular 1998 book, Consilience: Why do we need so many species anyway … especially since the majority are bugs, weeds and fungi? It is easy to dismiss the creepy-crawlies of the world, forgetting that less than a century ago … native birds and mammals around the world were treated with the same callous indifference. Now the value of the little things in the natural world has become compellingly clear. Recent experimental studies on whole ecosystems support what ecologists have long suspected: The more species that live in an ecosystem, the higher its productivity and the greater its ability to withstand drought and other kinds of environmental stress. Since we depend on functioning ecosystems to cleanse our water, enrich our soil, and create the very air we breathe, biodiversity is clearly not something to discard carelessly. 4

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Wilson then argues, more prosaically, that the medicinal properties of wild species remain largely untapped, with ‘probably fewer than 1%’ having been investigated for their medical potential. What folly to thoughtlessly consign to extinction species that might yield a future boon to humankind. He then observes that the only way to protect species is to maintain the integrity of the ecosystems that house them. These passages from two of the world’s best-known science popularisers give the argument of environmental services, in Wilson’s case with an add-on. The argument runs that we know so little about how the components of the web of life fit together that we risk system-destabilising perturbations if we keep eliminating web-of-life components. It states that there is a point, somewhere along the line of biological impoverishment, at which such system-destabilising perturbation becomes a certainty, with Homo sapiens itself a possible and even likely casualty. The case from science has a poetic or quasi-spiritual counterpart – the observation that when a butterfly flaps its wings in the Amazon it sets in motion a chain of interconnection that can bring on an avalanche in central Asia. This is the first law of ecology, as formulated by Barry Commoner in 1972: ‘Everything is connected to everything else’. But it is not as straightforward as this. Even within conservation biology’s scientific literature there is an undercurrent of apostasy – a contention that not all species within an ecosystem are essential to that ecosystem’s healthy functioning, that some could be dispensed with without any prospect of systemic perturbation whatever, that it is simply fatuous to maintain that when a butterfly flaps its wings in the Amazon an avalanche might result in central Asia. These dissenting positions have recently been pulled together by a PhD student, Ben Ridder (Ridder 2007). He presents the case that, by installing the preservation of biodiversity as the touchstone of conservation policy and natural area management, scientists, managers and bureaucrats are not protecting what people value most about the natural world. The argument from ecosystem services is particularly suspect, Ridder argues, and he flirts at the rim of the claim that scientists may deliberately overstate the provision-of-ecosystem-services case for biodiversity in order to obscure more personal agendas. The ‘scientisation’ of conservation reduces the marvellous cacophony of nature to a managerial paradigm in which the autonomy of natural process is denied, yet, Ridder maintains, it is precisely that untamable inhuman independence, existing as a counterpoint to the humanly contrived cultural world in which we are immersed, that is the quality we most value in the natural world and the source of the impulse to defend it (see also Hettinger 2005). Such an acknowledgement can lead to a dramatic shift in management philosophies to antimanagement, in which notions prevail of allowing the untrammelled wild to unfold as it will, free from well-intentioned managerial engineering of biological processes in the name of ensuring the continued existence of threatened species. I anticipate that, at this conference, the appropriateness of management for biodiversity imperatives will be taken as given, not subject to critical scrutiny. In an angry book entitled The abstract wild (1996), philosopher-adventurer Jack Turner lampoons the papers presented at a conference not dissimilar to this. For Turner, we are the enemy, the people who manipulate nature in such a way that the wild principle he seeks to defend becomes irreparably compromised. He thumps the table and demands that there be: no conservation strategies, no designer wilderness, no roads, no trails, no satellite surveillance, no overflights with helicopters, no radio collars, no measuring devices, no photographs, no GPS data, no databases stuffed with the location of every draba of the summit of Mt Moran, no guidebooks, no topographical maps. Let whatever habitat we can preserve go back to its own self-order as much as possible. 5

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Not everyone takes such an uncompromising position but, as Ridder shows, there is now a substantial debate in some quarters over the question of intervention (as mandated by the biodiversity paradigm) or non-interventionism (as mandated by the rewilding paradigm). Ridder provides the best overview of this debate that has reached my attention (Ridder 2007), and I recommend it to all who work for biodiversity imperatives. Ridder’s sympathies reside firmly within the anti-management or ‘wild principle’ camp (for other examples of the antimanagement perspective see Chew & Laubichler 2003; Glover 2000; Gobster 2000; Katz 1997; Sagoff 2005; Taylor 2005; Willers 1999). I think my former student’s attack on the priority accorded biodiversity in conservation science and natural area management is misconceived in several key respects, but I do agree that the scientific case for biodiversity as embodied in the ‘ecosystem services’ argument does miss the core reason for humankind’s attraction to the natural world and concern for the fate of its component parts, and that this accordingly contributes to a lack of fulfilled potential when it comes to the mobilisation of public sentiment in the cause of nature conservation. I have noted that we are living through the sixth mass extermination of species in the history of planet Earth, and that this is the most salient fact about the times in which we live. And yet the fact of mass species extinction is somewhere in the middle of the pack in the public perception of importance. Here, I think, Ridder is right – the concept ‘biodiversity’ is part of the problem. It is simply the case that most people will not be moved in their innermost being in response to an abstraction – and the concept ‘biodiversity’ is an abstraction. What does move people is contemplation of the fate of particular forms of life – usually large, often endearing to human aesthetic taste, or perhaps attracting human sympathy because they are humanesque in some significant respect. Such a response is philosophically dubious, for reasons that I do not have time to go into here, and as we have seen it is scientifically ill-informed as well. Though this may chagrin Diamond and Wilson, it is a fact that creepies and crawlies don’t inspire a desire in John and Janet Citizen to engage in public action to secure their future. Not that this should matter too much in practice, because the action necessary to preserve large charismatic species – the preservation of habitat – will also serve the interests of micro-life. I am not speaking personally here. Personally I can find all the activist motivation I need from cogitation upon threats to ‘biodiversity’ in the abstract. That is the point of the dramatic claim that the current deluge of species extinction constitutes ‘the clear and unmistakably most salient fact about the times in which we live’. I emphatically do not want ‘biodiversity’ displaced as the touchstone in conservation biology and the management regimes that attend upon its findings. But I argue that it is necessary to acknowledge the emotional deficit that this involves when it comes to engaging the public, and it seems to me that there is no inevitable contradiction. Indeed, in the popular science literature it is possible to find adjunct reasons for valuing biodiversity presented alongside the case of ecosystem services. Leakey and Lewin (1996) append an ‘aesthetic’ case for the maintenance of biodiversity: If a rich diversity of species succors the human psyche in important ways, then the loss of species reduces us in some ineffable way … Humans evolved within a world of nature, and an appreciation of, and need for, nature are real and ineradicable components of the human psyche. We risk eroding the human soul if we allow the erosion of the richness of the world of nature around us. An aesthetic appreciation of nature is not precisely the same as a valuation of nature for its independence from human will and agency, as argued by Ridder. I am not greatly concerned 6

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Science, ethics and emotion in the politics of biodiversity

about this. In both instances – and there will be more – the wellspring for the strongly positive evaluation is emotional rather than rational. For most policy-makers and for many scientists (Leakey and Lewin are clearly not among them) emotional response is not a valid ground for legitimacy or for informing policy. I view such a prejudice as utter folly, especially when it comes to the crucial matter of securing desirable biodiversity outcomes. Most of the opinions we hold, including opinions on policy options and decisions taken at crucial points during the scientific process, do not stem from the reasoning brain but from the affective ‘feeling’ brain. Only then do we set about finding scientific evidence or a reasoned case in logic for the position that an instantaneous snap of what we wrongly call ‘intuition’ has already assured us is right or valid.1 Charles Birch, a most eminent scientist, argues that the human brain spends far more time and energy on processing feelings than on analytical activities, and maintains that ‘our feelings are the most important aspect of our life.2 When there is no feeling life has lost its value’ (Birch 1995). Quite right. There needs to be room for the emotional response alongside the science of biodiversity, for the potentially powerful policy informant of the fellow-feeling that humans often have for the rest of life – what Wilson has called ‘biophilia’ (Wilson 1984) and what I have elsewhere described as the ‘ecological impulse’ (Hay 2002). I stress that this needs to take place alongside the case from science. I emphatically do not want to displace science from the debate. I merely want it enriched with other perspectives, even though this will involve some thoroughly unscientific argument, for example in defence of the preservation of particular species rather than species in general, or of particular individual animals (and trees) and not even necessarily the individual animals (and trees) that scientists would wish to maintain. An example of the last came in the form of a press interview with an eminent sociologist (who is also something of a media celebrity), in which the interviewee expressed strong opposition to the eradication of feral animals in the name of environmentalist imperatives (Paine 2007). The media interview occurred in the context of an upcoming conference on the theme of animals and society. I think this is quite salutary. I do not expect the same axiomatic belief in the validity of a biodiversity imperatives-sourced interventionist paradigm of conservation management that is likely to pervade this conference to be much in evidence at the Animals and Society conference. Possibly the most intractable policy faultline opened up by the management-for-biodiversity versus antimanagement for rewilding schism concerns questions of animal welfare, in which the categorisations of ‘feral’ and ‘native’ are challenged, with the rewilding camp favouring the welfare of individual animals currently alive and able to experience pain (and having clear interests that can go well or badly and that thereby merit respect) whatever their status when measured by the imperatives of preserving biodiversity.3 There will be some slippage between the imperatives of science and the less predictable claims from values-based contributions, and this slippage might be fractious and of no small import. But my sympathies are clear. We are currently witnessing a biological impoverishment not seen since ‘the end of the Mesozoic Era 65 million years ago’ (Wilson 1998), and the knowledge that we are causing this to be so, and that we know we are causing it to be so, simply should not be borne. Science? The value-laden realm of the emotions? The policy slippage notwithstanding, I do not believe it much matters: whatever is needed to put an end to the treadmill of extinction warrants deployment. Not everyone feels this same emotional wrench when presented with the fact that we are living through the planet’s sixth great extinction and that, for the first time, we are its cause. Why is this so? Why is the ecological or biophiliac impulse so unevenly felt? I will provide three reasons, which are not exhaustive. 7

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One reason is the radical separation from nature that characterises much of life today. Most of us live in large amorphous cities where our only contact with other forms of life might be to pass a dog on the street, to acknowledge the occasional bird on a tree in the park or to view nature vicariously through the medium of a wildlife doco on television. We experience the tragedy of the sixth great age of species extinction only in the abstract, as statistics buried in a small and apparently unimportant article on page 7 of the daily paper. With such a profound loss of intimate contact with the living world, it is hard to see how we can expect widespread concern for its fate. We should add our species’ utter infatuation with the unfolding marvels of human ingenuity in the shape of present and emergent technologies. I think (but cannot prove) that our infatuation with tools and gadgets exists in a zero-sum relationship with concern for the fate of other life. I do not mean the contribution those technologies are materially making to species extinction, though this is considerable in many cases. I mean the construction of life-empathising or life-disregarding psychologies. But I hold the point I am making entirely instinctively, and am interested to hear what others might make of this. My second factor is longer-lived and potentially more intractable. It is a truism that the maintenance of biodiversity requires that the integrity of ecosystems be preserved. Within humanised environments individual species may demonstrate a remarkable degree of adaptation, as Tim Low argued in The new nature (Low 2002), but there can be no doubt that the prime reason we are witnessing the sixth great age of extinction is the unprecedented scale of habitat destruction, without which many species are unable to survive. The trouble is that we westerners may actually be hard-wired for the clearance of non-humanised habitat. As I have written elsewhere: For pre-industrial peoples the prime question faced daily was that of survival. Wilderness was thought to be hostile, threatening, pervasive and it had to be fought and conquered … the history of civilisation can be seen as a history of escaping from wilderness, of establishing mastery over it to through fire, clearing, cropping, domestication of animals and so on … In folklore and nursery tales … ‘the woods’ is a fearful place. There lurk the trolls and the dark magicians to waylay the chivalrous knight and ensnare the fair maiden, and there is to be found Red Riding Hood’s wolf, and the blood drinkers of Beowulf. In such tales, most of which trace back as far as the Middle Ages, wilderness is portrayed in the worst possible light – dank, cold, unvisited, immensely threatening (Hay 2002). There may be an innate biophilia (or ecological impulse) within many of us that conduces to concern for the fate of embattled lifeforms, but there is a tenacious reason why such innate sympathy is not universally experienced or why it may not extend beyond a concern for the charismatic species shown in wildlife docos. To put it brutally, such concern flies in the face of the accumulated history of civilisation, a history in which humankind has been at war with the many realms of nature. As the historian Roderick Nash has written of the pervasive mindset on the American frontier: ‘Constant exposure to wilderness gave rise to fear and hatred on the part of those who had to fight it for survival and success. American frontiersmen rarely judged wilderness with criteria other than the utilitarian or spoke of their relation to it in other than a military metaphor’ (Nash 1982). A third factor, perhaps related to the second, can be sourced to the inherited and deeply ingrained suite of paradigmatic values that underscore European civilisation and that the

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literature loosely describes as the Judaeo-Christian tradition. In 1967, the theologian Lynn White Jr published an influential paper in which he argued that non-human life is not valued because the Christian creation story maintains that ‘man’ is made in God’s image and thus partakes of God’s radical separation from other forms of life. Only humans have immortal souls, only humans can enter heaven; the rest of living creation is placed at humanity’s disposal, mere resource to dispose of as ‘he’ sees fit. Having made the universe God withdrew from it. ‘He’ is not present in ‘His’ creation, the only import of which is its utility value as human resource. God is wholly other – He can neither be found in nor revealed through Nature. It may even be, as Bill Clinton’s spiritual advisor, Tony Campolo, insists, a sin to accord value in and of itself to the natural world or to other-than-human living entities (Campolo 1992). This being one of the foundation values of European civilisation, it will come as no surprise to find that western philosophical systems affirm the absence of value in the natural world except insofar as they can be deemed to possess the utility value of human resource. Only humans have interests that ‘count’, in principle, and ethical relations focus on establishing the moral precepts that ought to guide relationships between human beings. This began to change in the early 1970s, and for the first time in several centuries there was something new in that staid branch of philosophy, Ethics. A series of philosophical positions have been advanced that argue that moral oughts and ought nots do not stop at the human species boundary, but occur within the relationships of life. These philosophies base their ethical revolutions on a variety of rival, even mutually hostile, bedrock principles. These are sentience (a capacity to experience sensations, particularly pleasure and pain); having cellbased life; having a capacity for self-renewal and teleological actualisation towards which a living being continuously strives; and having a cosmically scoped commonality with all that exists, such that ‘one seeks … to allow all entities … the freedom to unfold in their own ways’ (Fox 1992). The first two of these rival criteria – sentience and having cell-based life – afford moral agency to individual units of life, in the first instance to higher animals and in the second to all living organisms. The relevance of these philosophical views to the maintenance of biodiversity is incidental and may even be antagonistic because, as we have seen, such views can also be deployed to defend the interests and well-being of a ‘feral’ animal whose existence threatens ‘native’ biodiversity. In contrast, the other two rival principles – having a capacity for renewal and having a cosmically scoped commonality with all that exists – can provide such a firstprinciples defence of biodiversity, because these criteria for according value can be used to endow ecological collectives, such as species or even the entire ecosphere, with moral standing. I do not intend to elaborate upon any of this. For a non-philosopher it is fiendishly convoluted, much more than I have made it sound here.4 I have to say that, in truth, I find much of this philosophical hair-splitting unsatisfactory, both procedurally and in terms of end results. There has been something of a backlash against the building of elaborate systems of ecological philosophy, and these days there is much more stress upon practical philosophy rather than a philosophy of first principles. So I am going to move on, but there is one remaining question that intrigues. What was it, in the 1970s, that induced this sudden explosion of interest in the development of philosophical principles that sought to bring non-human lifeforms and biological processes into the realm of ethics? What was the trigger? There is no easy answer, but it is plain that since the 1970s there has been an explosion of interest in and concern for the impact of our actions upon the well-being of other forms of life. Civilisations-long, entrenched antagonism to other-than-human life may not be as hard-wired

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as I have suggested – it may be, rather, a mere culturally specific prejudice that is approaching the end of its time. We have come a long way since the eminent 19th-century educational reformer and religious prig, Dr Thomas Arnold, could write, shuddering with revulsion, ‘The whole subject of the brute creation is to me one of such painful mystery, that I dare not approach it’(quoted in Strachey 1948); since TE Lawrence, explaining why he refused to ride a horse in the Arabian desert, could observe ‘something hurtful to my pride, disagreeable, rose at the sight of these lower forms of life. Their existence struck a servile reflection upon our human kind: the style in which a God would look on us; and … to lie under an avoidable obligation to them, seemed to me shameful’ (Lawrence 1997). We no longer look upon forests and shudder with apprehension, we no longer think it brave and noble to hunt a tiger. It is true that this revolution in perception is not universal, and it is true that it does not usually extend to the creepies and crawlies that are such a focus of scientific concern for declining biodiversity. It is true that the time-worn view persists, especially around the decision-making tables of industry and government, that non-human life has no status other than resource for human consumption and, if it cannot be rendered in terms of such value, it is thoroughly dispensable. But this is changing, and it is changing without regard for any revolution in first philosophical principles. Though it would not have been the case 10 years ago, I am willing to wager that there will not be much elaborate philosophising at that imminent conference on Animals and Society. I think this no bad thing, though I wish I could more definitively explain why and how this quiet revolution is taking place. But almost three decades ago, a great Canadian naturalist, John Livingston, analysed all the arguments customarily made for the conservation of wildlife and found all of them inadequate. He was not fazed by this. For Livingston it was emotional identification that connected him to the diversity of existence, what he called a deep complicity ‘in the beauty that is life process’ (Livingston 1981). And that will do for me, too. And so I have returned to a prominent theme from the earlier part of my talk. And earlier still I made the point that we must have production and we must, somehow, contrive to maintain here with us the species mix with which we have co-evolved. It will be clear that, in so contriving, it is production systems that must make the requisite adjustments. As I see it, there can be few more important matters than those we have come together to consider and it is time they were accorded a level of political priority that they do not yet enjoy.

ENDNOTES 1 I have not consulted the relevant literature in cognitive psychology and neuroscience and it may be that the following observation is naïve at best and profoundly erroneous at worst. It does seem to me, however, that what we call an ‘intuitive understanding’ is actually an instantly processed cognitive assessment of the situation that sums the totality of a brain’s experiences, predilections and previous analytical exercises. If I am right, it makes no sense to posit ‘reason’ and ‘intuition’ as opposites. 2 There is a vast literature on the status of emotions within neural processes generally and of the relationship between emotion and reason specifically. The literature that I have consulted tends to congruence with the claims made here and with the position expounded by Birch (Damasio 1994; Goldie 2002; Livesey 1986; Nussbaum 2001; Plutchik 2003). From the disciplinary perspective of a sociologist of linguistics, see also Goffman (1981). 3 Excellent overviews of this debate are found in Ridder (2007) and Taylor (2003).

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4 If you are intrigued enough to want more, try Chapter 2 in my monumental and functionally unreadable Main currents in western environmental thought (Hay 2002).

REFERENCES Birch C (1995). Feelings. UNSW Press: Sydney. Campolo T (1992). How to rescue the earth without worshipping nature: a Christian’s call to save creation. Word Publishing: Milton Keynes, England. Chew MK & Laubichler MD (2003). Natural enemies – metaphor or misconception? Science 301, 52–53. Commoner B (1972). The closing circle: confronting the environmental crisis. Jonathan Cape: London. Damasio AR (1994). Descartes’ error: emotion, reason and the human brain. Grosset/Putnam: New York. Diamond J (1992). Playing dice with megadeath. In The endangered earth: readings for writers (eds S Morgan & D Okerstrom), pp. 63–71. Allyn & Bacon: Boston. Diamond J (2005). Collapse: how societies choose to fail or survive. Penguin/Allen Lane: London. Fox W (1992). New philosophical directions in environmental decision-making. In Ecopolitical theory: essays from Australia (eds P Hay & R Eckersley). Occasional Paper 24, pp. 1–20. Centre for Environmental Studies, University of Tasmania: Hobart. Glover JM (2000). Soul of the wilderness: can we stop trying to control nature? International Journal of Wilderness 6, 4–8. Gobster PH (2000). Restoring nature: human actions, interactions, and reactions. In Restoring nature: perspectives from the social sciences and humanities (eds PH Gobster & RB Hull), pp. 1–19. Island Press: Washington DC. Goffman E (1981). Forms of talk. Basil Blackwell: Oxford. Goldie P (ed.) (2002). Understanding emotions: mind and morals. Ashgate: Aldershot, England. Hay P (2002). Main currents in western environmental thought. UNSW Press: Sydney. Hettinger N (2005). Respecting nature’s autonomy in relationship with humanity. In Recognizing the autonomy of nature: theory and practice (ed. T Heyd), pp. 86–98. Columbia University Press: New York. Katz E (1997). Nature as subject: human obligation and the natural community. Rowman & Littlefield: Lanham, MD. Lawrence TE (1997, first published 1935). Seven pillars of wisdom. Wordsworth: Ware, England. Leakey R & Lewin R (1996). The sixth extinction: biodiversity and its survival. Weidenfeld & Nicolson: London. Livesey PJ (1986). Learning and emotion: a biological synthesis. Lawrence Eribaum Associates: New Jersey. Livingston JA (1981). The fallacy of wildlife conservation. McClelland & Stewart: Toronto. Low T (2002). The new nature. Penguin/Viking: Melbourne. Nash R (1982). Wilderness and the American mind (3rd edn). Yale University Press: New Haven, CT. Nussbaum M (2001). Upheavals of thought: the intelligence of emotions. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge.

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Paine M (2007). Unleashing ideas on animals. The Hobart Mercury, Tasmania, 25 June. Plutchik R (2003). Emotions and life: perspectives from psychology, biology and evolution. American Psychological Association: Washington DC. Ridder B (2007). Biodiversity versus nature: values in conflict. Unpublished PhD thesis, School of Geography and Environmental Studies, University of Tasmania, Hobart. Sagoff M (2005). Do non-native species threaten the natural environment? Journal of Agricultural and Environmental Ethics 18, 215–236. Strachey L (1948, first published 1918). Eminent Victorians. Penguin: Harmondsworth. Taylor A (2003). Animals and ethics: an overview of the philosophical debate. Broadview: Ontario. Taylor P (2005). Beyond conservation: a wildland strategy. Earthscan: London. Turner J (1996). The abstract wild. University of Arizona Press: Tucson, Arizona. White L Jr (1967). The historical roots of our ecologic crisis. Science 155, 1203–1207. Willers B (ed.) (1999). Unmanaged landscapes: voices for untamed nature. Island Press: Washington DC. Wilson EO (1984). Biophilia. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge. Wilson EO (1988). The current state of biological diversity. In Biodiversity (ed. EO Wilson), pp. 3–18. National Academy Press: Washington DC. Wilson EO (1998). Consilience: the unity of knowledge. Little, Brown & Co.: London.

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2 Finding opportunity in the challenge Severn Cullis-Suzuki

B

alancing conservation and production is one of the most important conversations that we can have today. These two aspects of our environment have become polarised and often symbolise opposites, yet their harmony is absolutely key to our survival. In this chapter I want to address the gap in personal values that Peter Hay identified in the previous chapter, the issue of public engagement and the link between the scientific evidence and the popular movement. This chapter is in three parts. First, as someone who has been trying to effect environmental change for almost two decades, I want to explain a little bit about myself, why I believe what I believe and how I came to speak up. Then I’d like to reflect on what has transpired since the 1992 Earth Summit in Rio de Janeiro and the revolutions of which we are all a part today. Finally, I want to suggest how this time around, just as we are beginning to see a renewed interest in environmental issues and ecological conservation, we can ensure that we make just and lasting change. I want to begin with this word ‘environment’. I have an idea of what Canadians think when we talk about this word but I was curious to know what Australians think of when they hear the word ‘environment’. The responses I received from conference delegates were ‘the natural world’, ‘the forest’, ‘the bush’, ‘something out there that’s not a part of your everyday life’, ‘the beach’, ‘national parks’, ‘all of our surroundings, including cities, nature, animals, plants, the lot’. In my country, when most people think about the environment, I don’t think that they think of everything that surrounds us. I think they think of national parks, rainforest, maybe the Amazon, they might think of recycling, the Kyoto Protocol or maybe hippies chaining themselves to trees, or crazy old David Suzuki – things that are external, things that don’t immediately relate to them.

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The environment is simply everything that surrounds us, the matrix in which we live. We don’t think of it as that; we don’t think of our environment as the air that we breathe, the food that we eat, the biscuits that we had at tea, the water we flush down the toilet, the waste we throw away. We don’t think of it as our economic interactions, our interactions with our family and the community around us. In biological fact, the environment is simply the real world, the sum of all the ecosystems that directly support us and our interactions with everything around us. We are all human animals, acutely dependent on and affected by the air that we share, the food and water that we eat every day. We all have to be deeply preoccupied with and innately dependent on this environment. This disconnect between ourselves and that externalised thing, the environment, is really at the heart of the environmental mess we are in. I realise this more and more as I get into graduate studies in ethnoecology, learning about the traditional ways of looking at natural resources and biology. I realise that our very concept of environment or ecology, or even nature, is perhaps the biggest difference between our Western scientific view of the natural world and traditional world views and perspectives. In indigenous societies, which have existed in places for thousands of years, humans are not a separate species from their environment. In many languages there is no word for environment, there is no word for nature. This makes sense if you think about living in a world where the way that you treat the environment and the way that your neighbours treat the environment has direct repercussions on your survival. You are going to be thinking about the environment in a very different way. In our society, with mass production, a globalised economy and more and more people urbanised, it is suddenly possible to ignore the reality of our biological identities. The environment as a concept, as an externality, an outside factor that many of us don’t think affects us on a daily basis, is a big barrier against us dealing with our natural resources in a sustainable way. It inherently allows us to get out of our connection and our responsibilities to the natural world. So, making the connections and talking about this is absolutely essential. It is one of the most important things that needs to happen for us to become a sustainable society. In my own home of British Columbia on the west coast of Canada, the main industries have traditionally been forestry and fishing. Conservation and production have been commonly seen as mutually exclusive. You either take absolutely everything out of the land or the ocean or you set aside a park that humans aren’t allowed into. This has polarised our communities. The polarisation of the issues and the mentality of either conservation or jobs do not serve anyone two decades from now. We need a dialogue that unites these two aspects and that is what excited me most about coming to this conference. This dialogue is something I realise I’ve been seeking my whole life. When I recently started my Masters in ethnoecology, I realised that I’d been studying human relationships to nature and to the environment since I was very little. The reason I am so preoccupied with my environment is because of what I learned as a kid – brainwashing works. Food and the relationship between ecosystems and food production was my major in environmental education. We grew up with my grandparents and we ate locally. We ate the vegetables and fruits that grandad grew for us in the garden and, in our family, fishing is the closest thing to a religion we have. Every summer we set our smelt nets on the high tide, whatever time of night it is, hoping for a big catch that we could then fry up. The fish come to spawn in the harbours of Vancouver. My grandpa and my parents took my sister and I all over our province fishing and camping, and we spent time in villages of our First Nation’s people in Haida Gwaii, Alert Bay of the

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Kwakwaka’wakw nations and Bella Bella of the Heiltsuk. We went to potlatches – the feasts where people are honoured, names are given, rites are exchanged and the business of the society occurs, always around food. On Haida Gwaii there is an island archipelago, where I heard the phrase ‘our food is our medicine’. After I graduated from high school I spent time with a Haida woman, Diane Brown, who took me out on the reefs. She taught me about the connection between the Haida people and the food from their land. She taught me how to spear sea urchins, collect rock scallops, catch cod, salmon and halibut, and give thanks for the food that we caught. At the same time I was witnessing the major problems in British Columbia. If you drive up any highways you’ll see massive clearcuts and landslides and the rivers these contaminate. When I was only 12 years old we had to stop fishing for flounder in the city of Vancouver because the fish were full of tumours. I always thought I’d work on a commercial fishing boat at some point but that’s not a viable job these days because some fishing seasons have become so short – reduced to a couple of hours on one day a year! This sometimes happens now with sockeye salmon. This is shocking to anyone who has been in that industry. It has serious social impacts in the small communities we spent time in throughout my childhood and today it seems that everybody has sold their boat and nobody is making a living fishing. In small communities the decline in the fishing and logging industries hurts individuals and morale in serious ways. So, environmental issues for me growing up weren’t isolated issues of trees and fish – they were issues of food, identity, jobs and community morale. I was also taught that if you believe in something, if you care about something, you have to stand up and speak out. My Japanese-Canadian father was a victim of prejudice during World War II, and he and his family were imprisoned in camps in interior British Columbia. He was born in Canada and didn’t speak Japanese but at about eight years old was incarcerated with his family as an enemy alien. This drastically affected who he has become and ever since he has stood up against prejudice and social injustice. On the other side of my family, my English grandparents fought during World War II. They were younger than I am now and that experience has made them strong advocates for peace. My grandmother witnessed Hitler speaking in a square in Germany just before the outbreak of war and has always taught me to stand up and speak out about what you know to be wrong. I grew up hearing stories from First Nation friends about residential schools and the efforts of the Canadian government to destroy First Nation culture. The social problems today in our First Nation communities show the results of prejudice and misunderstanding. We have to speak up about this and talk about these issues to prevent current and future prejudice. When I was eight years old my parents became involved in the issue unfolding in the Brazilian Amazon and, while filming, my dad met an amazing man called Paiakan, a Kayapo leader trying to rally the people of the middle Amazon to protest against a series of hydroelectric dams. The dams were going to flood thousands of hectares of rainforest and dozens of villages. This was in the mid-to-late 1980s, when the environment was becoming more about social issues and people were starting to become aware of the Amazon rainforest and pay attention. Hollywood started showing interest, Sting went to the Amazon and started drawing attention to the issue; the efforts were successful. The World Bank withdrew its funding and the dams were stopped. It was amazing to me that Paiakan, a man from the Amazon, from the middle of the forest, was able to organise such an event.

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Then Paiakan began receiving death threats, just after the rubber tapper Chico Mendes had been murdered for his environmental activism. The next thing was that this family from the Amazon came to live in our house. As we say in Vancouver, it was an absolute gong show. As they were leaving six weeks later, they wanted to return the favour and invited us to come and visit them. A year later we flew down to the Xingu Valley in the lower Amazon, to the tiny little village where Paiakan and his family lived. The Kayapo wear paint for clothing and live off the river, a small but unbelievably diverse river. They have different ways of fishing for each kind of fish; they know every river bend, every swamp, every place to get different food in different seasons. I saw real harmony between resource use and conservation. I tell this story because sometimes you can look back and see moments or events that change who you become and shape the next period of your life. This trip to the Amazon as a nine-year-old exposed me in a totally different way to biodiversity. It shaped my interest in biology and ecology which I am still pursuing today, as well as my perspectives on human interactions with ecology and the environment. After two weeks we had to leave. Our tiny plane flew over the Amazon but this time as we looked down we could see that the forest was on fire. The smoke was so thick it crept into our plane and we could stare straight at the sun without being blinded. This was a result of burning the forest to grow grass to feed cattle. At the time I had no idea what this was about. I didn’t know that the driving force was poverty – ranchers had no other option but to burn the forest to have cattle. The Amazon soil is so thin it can’t sustain grass for long and the ranchers have to burn more, so it’s inherently unsustainable. I didn’t know any of this, I didn’t know the political motives – I just could not believe that the amazing world I had discovered was being destroyed and I had to do something about it. When I got back to Canada, I talked to my Grade 5 friends about this amazing world of animals and plants that was being burned. They’d heard about problems with our environment but we didn’t really know very much so we decided to learn. We started a club called the Environmental Children’s Organisation. Our goal was to learn about the issues and we harassed our parents and teachers to tell us about the hole in the ozone and pollution (at that time nobody was talking about climate change). We started projects like beach clean-ups, we published a little newspaper for other kids our age with the help of a local NGO, we learnt a lot and we had a lot of fun. After a few years I heard about the Earth Summit, the UN Conference on Environment and Development, the largest gathering of heads of state ever held. This conference set the stage for our 21st-century relationship to the environment. We wanted to go. We thought it was going to be all these old men sitting around talking about our future and someone should be there to remind them who would really be affected by their decision. My parents said that we were crazy, there were going to be 30 000 people there, we were only 12 years old, what were we talking about? But we loved the idea and kept talking about it to anyone who would listen – lo and behold, people started donating money to the cause. With the help of a local youth organisation, the Environmental Youth Alliance, we learnt how to throw a fundraiser, rented our local planetarium, printed agendas and learnt how to make speeches. In the end we raised enough money from our community to send five kids and two chaperones to the Earth Summit. It was a sea of people, a huge conference. There were UN plenary sessions, the Global Forum with over 500 NGOs and the Earth Parliament for people – women, children, elders and indigenous people – who weren’t invited to the two official parts of the conference. We registered as

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an NGO even though we were far from having non-profit status, rented a booth at the Global Forum and talked to whoever we could. Because we were so young, people were interested in what we had to say. We began to get attention and invitations to speak at different venues. We were about to head home after two weeks of very hard work when we got a call to say that someone had dropped out of the plenary session and if we could get down to Rio Central in an hour, we could speak to the world leaders for five minutes. We jumped into a taxi, scribbling our speech on the way. We arrived at Rio Central and went through security, and I ran into the plenary session to give my speech. I asked them to remember that before their jobs as politicians, as delegates, as professionals, their first duty was as parents and that they had to remember their kids when they make decisions. I relate this story because it draws together the different influences on my life, the things that shaped my values and my personal involvement in global issues. That Earth Summit in Rio de Janeiro was held 15 years ago. It took place when we were seeing a real movement in environmental interest, when we paid attention to the Amazon, to air pollution, to water pollution. It was supposed to be a ‘turnaround’ conference. What has happened since? The UN’s Millennium Ecosystem Assessment has said that we’ve drastically undermined the ecological systems that directly sustain our own well-being. Each report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change is increasingly disturbing. Daniel Pauly studies have found that 90% of the large fish in the world’s oceans are depleted and the Boris Worms’ report last year predicted the collapse of entire marine ecosystems by 2050 if we continue the way that we are now. There are many studies showing that, since Rio, we’ve continued to decrease our biodiversity. We don’t need scientists to tell us this is happening; all you have to do is ask anyone who spends time on the land. Since Rio, I have witnessed ecological changes. Today my childhood fishing holes on Quadra Island, a long way from Vancouver, are empty and the fish species that my family used to depend on for dinner are on the endangered list. I was standing on the docks of Quadra Island last Christmas with some local teenagers and talking about fishing. They were sharing stories about the kinds and size of fish they used to catch when they were kids, and complaining how there’s no work on fishing boats anymore and they were going to have to leave their community to find work. Then the conversation shifted to reminiscing about winter and they talked about skating on ponds, about snow that used to cancel school, about things they hadn’t seen since their childhood. I was standing there listening to these 18-year-olds, thinking that they sounded like old-timers. The kinds of ecological changes we are now seeing happen so fast that young people are noticing massive shifts. But these shifting baselines are not noticed by people living in the city. This is the big problem because Canada is a vast natural place sparsely inhabited, with 80% of Canadians living in cities. All this is real. The ecological crises since Rio have become 10 times worse. The failure of the turnaround means that today the challenges are far greater. The work for my generation, for younger generations, for future generations, is far greater. We are living in revolutionary times and no matter which way you look at it we are the revolutionaries. The definition of revolution is a drastic change that usually occurs relatively quickly. The word ‘revolution’ means a turnaround, a change in social or political institutions over a relatively short period of time, or a major change in culture or economy. Some revolutions are led by the majority of the populus, others by a small band of revolutionaries. A revolution is simply a big fast change and one major revolution that we are living through is a massive reduction in diversity. Peter Hay

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outlined the revolution in biodiversity – the six major extinctions – but it’s not just animals and plants that are changing. There is a deep connection between biodiversity and cultural diversity. We are also seeing a general decline worldwide in culture, a decline in languages and a decline in the study of traditional knowledge of nature or ethnoecology. I recently learnt about a concept called the ethnosphere. It’s a beautiful, beautiful idea – a web of human stories, of cultures and knowledge. But as the planet shrinks through urbanisation and globalisation there are ramifications for resource management – as people move into cities and lose connection with the land, we lose whole volumes of understanding of ecology and local ecosystems. Who cares? Well, as well as being boring, living in a less diverse world has profound implications. Those of us who study ecology, evolution or genetics know that diversity is life’s strategy for dealing with unforeseeable challenges in the future. We are also experiencing a revolution in climate. These are revolutions in which each of us is complicit. Our ecological footprint as members of the developed world means that we personally contribute to these revolutions. Canadians, Americans and Australians are top of the list when it comes to production of pollution and consumption of resources. In Canada people don’t understand this because we still think of ourselves as the Great White Northern Land of beavers and polar bears. But Australia is first and Canada third out of the 29 OECD nations in greenhouse gas emissions. Canada and the US, which together form about 5% of the world’s population, consume more energy than India, the Middle East, South America, Africa, south-east Asia and Oceania combined, which is about 50% of the world’s population. By the age of six months, each Canadian has consumed as many resources as the average person in the developing world consumes in their lifetime. When people hear me ranting about these things, they sometimes smile and say ‘Oh, you’re one of those people that wants to change the world’. As you’ve heard, the consumption stats show that Canada, America and Australia are already changing the world. Since Rio the world has been changed, our ecological crises have intensified and in the last 12 months the landscape of our societies’ dialogue has shifted. In the last year we have seen climate change finally break into the public consciousness, and we can no longer ignore it. This awareness is a huge opportunity, a second chance for the environment to mature as a social concern and become the framework issue it truly is. Thomas Freedman wrote in the New York Times magazine in April 2008: I want to rename green, I want to rename it geo-strategic, geo-economic, capitalistic and patriotic. I want to do that because I think living, working, designing, manufacturing and projecting America in a green way can be the basis of a new unifying political movement in the 21st century. A re-defined broader and more muscular green ideology is not meant to trump the traditional republican and democratic agendas, but rather to bridge them when it comes to addressing the three major issues facing every American today, jobs, temperature, and terrorism. Freedman went on to say: But here’s the bad news. While green has hit Main Street, more Americans than ever now identify themselves as being green. Green has not gone very far down Main Street, it has certainly not gone anywhere near the distance required to preserve our lifestyle. The dirty little secret is that we are fooling ourselves. In America we

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talk like we are already the greenest generation, but here’s the really inconvenient truth – we’ve not even began to be serious about the cost, the effort and the scale of change that will be required to shift our country and eventually the world to a totally emission-free energy infrastructure over the next 50 years. Our task is to ensure the same thing doesn’t happen as in the 1990s in Rio. We must ensure that this time revolution and awareness are real and fundamental, and translate into action. Striking a balance between conservation and production needs to become personal. I’m heartened to see more and more scientists becoming advocates for ecosystems and species, activists in the public realm. Peter Hay mentioned EO Wilson. There is also James Lovelock who came up with the Gaia theory, Daniel Pauly and Boris Worm in Canada, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change made up of scientists trying to raise awareness about climate change, and the Union of Concerned Scientists. Biodiversity needs scientists to be its advocates. I speak about revolutions because each of us in our society needs to realise that we are the revolutionaries. No one is not involved in the outcome. Fifteen years after Rio I’m still asking the same thing: that everyone realise their personal responsibility in a very serious biological, sociological and economic situation. We need to internalise and personalise the biological revolutions of which we are part. Christopher Strong, the conference convenor, invited me to speak on the challenges facing the younger generation but I’d like to speak to all generations. Young people get it. You tell kids about what is happening with the environment, about pollution and climate change, and they get it instantly, a lot faster than adults. They become sad because extinction is an incredibly hard thing for a child to understand and it should be something that’s hard for adults to understand as well. They become angry, because it is something that we should be angry about. Youth are expected to be passionate about these issues and to feel strongly about things. As we become older we take on new responsibilities and new realities, and gradually learn that there are all kinds of grey between the black and white, and idealism often becomes a synonym for naiveté. As an adult it is much easier to be realistic and cynical than to be passionate and idealistic, except if you have kids. If we are to ensure that this time a real green revolution is achieved, I would like to submit that we need to leverage one of the most powerful human forces in existence – intergenerational love. What is more powerful that a parent’s love of their children? I believe it is being massively neglected and is something that must be brought up again and again. It cuts through all different factions, all different sides, all different parties, especially when the complexities begin to make things foggy and more and more grey. Intergenerational love is the reason that people listened to me when I was at Rio. Intergenerational love is the major point of human connection across time and across philosophies. Parents want stability, security, health and opportunity for their children. If this is true, parents must inherently be environmentalists, but they must be environmentalists who can balance production and conservation. Very often people come up to me after I’ve given a talk and sheepishly say, ‘The only reason I recycle or carpool is because my kid harasses me’. They are annoyed and really proud at the same time. This time around, intergenerational love needs to be leveraged; it needs to become a rationale for the decisions that affect resource use. It might sound shocking but I think that it has been one thing that has guided our human resource use throughout human history. And because of intergenerational love, we also need to be taking ourselves as role models very seriously. The

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more I’ve gone to meetings, the more speeches I’ve given, the more I realise that the one thing that I can affect and the only thing I have control of is my own actions. I might not be able to influence John Howard or George Bush to support the Kyoto Protocol at the G8 but I can refuse to participate in the systems and structures in which I do not believe. What we are actually talking about is habit-shifting and I suggest we each need to choose something small, a habit in our lifestyle that we are willing to change. I have four suggestions for the kind of things we might change. Number one is to fly less and if you do have to fly then go carbon-neutral like this conference. The second is to refuse to drink bottled water. I come from a country with the best water in the world yet its people are starting to drink water bottled in plastic. It’s an absolute scam and we should not participate. The third is to ask friends and family what they are doing about climate change, not in an aggressive or antagonistic way but to bring home the point that each of us is personally contributing to the problem and we need to integrate a response into our daily lives. The fourth occurred to me after hearing the author of the previous chapter, Peter Hay, and that is to ask you to join the ranks of the scientist advocates, to use your research and your study to inform others through personal dialogue, writing and teaching about the current ecological situation. As people in science and academia, as professionals in resource management, we are seen as the experts and we have a huge opportunity and responsibility to inform the public about what is happening, how they are directly implicated and what they can do. In conclusion, a word often seen in ecology but rarely in resource management today is ‘balance’. We need to use it to unite the two concepts of production and conservation. We need to put the world back together. We need to see the interconnections between ourselves and our environment. Through the discovery that everything is connected, the relatively new science of ecology is migrating towards a world view long expressed by indigenous cultures around the world. Indigenous people around the world speak of balance but modern science has not paid enough attention to the very real disciplines and formalised structures of resource management that have enabled human populations to prosper. I am very sorry that this conference won’t hear from Aboriginal Australia about the traditional balance of resource management and conservation. Understanding how people thrived in our ecosystems before us is something that Western science and ecology could benefit from. A few months ago I asked my Haida aunty, Diane, if there was a general resource management philosophy that Haida people used in the past. Several weeks passed before she responded to my question. She said, ‘You know I’ve been thinking about that question, I’ve been thinking about it and thinking about it, and it comes down to one word – respect. Respect for yourself, for your own body, respect for your food, respect for the land, respect for everyone else and for everything. It is so simple.’ I’ve been thinking about it too and while I know that sustainability is a very complex issue with many different facets, I also realise that respect is something we have failed to integrate into many aspects of mainstream society and how we treat our natural resources. As we get deeper into debates on sustainability and ecosystem management over the next few days and beyond, perhaps we need to make sure that we reintroduce this age-old human ethic into our dealings with each other and with the land. If we can begin to do that in our conversations here and in everything that we personally do, we will make a real contribution to ensure that this time the revolution that follows the current wave of interest in the environment is a revolution of which we can all be proud.

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3 Reflections on landscape integration: lessons from the past and principles for the future David Lindenmayer

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his chapter is a reflection on how far we’ve come in our attempt to integrate conservation and production in Australia. It is a personal reflection, not about ‘greens versus browns’ which has been the dominant kind of debate in environmental management over the last 15–20 years, but how we integrate conservation and production. I start by looking at six lessons from the past that I suggest we ignore at our peril (see Lindenmayer 2007). I then want to finish with a set of 10 principles for landscape management developed recently from a meeting of national and international landscape ecologists (Lindenmayer & Hobbs 2007; Lindenmayer et al. 2007a). The six lessons from environmental management are these. 1 2 3 4 5 6

‘Sustainability’ is a weasel word. Everyone talks about ‘adaptive management’ but few people do it. We repeat past mistakes. We overcommit landscapes. We are always doing crisis management. We ignore the human population question.

LESSON #1: ‘SUSTAINABILITY’ IS A WEASEL WORD The first lesson is that sustainability is a ‘weasel word’, a term borrowed from Don Watson, one-time speech writer for former Prime Minister Paul Keating (Watson 2004). As a weasel

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word, it has a similar pedigree to expressions such as ‘moving forward’, ‘at the end of the day’ and many others we hear thousands of times a day. Sustainability is used out of context repeatedly and in every sector. The concept of ecological sustainability is not the same as sustained production and we need to think carefully about what ecological sustainability means in the context of the particular sector we are dealing with. For example, trying to define ecologically sustainable forest management is not a straightforward task. We need to invoke the concept of ecosystem integrity, which could also be accused of being a weasel word if it’s not defined. In ecologically sustainable forest management, we are trying to maintain wood and non-wood values. To achieve that, we have to think in terms of species composition, ecological processes and natural disturbance regimes that might achieve this – our task very quickly becomes extremely difficult. The sustainability problem in the context of forest management is impossible to think about unless we have monitoring to gauge our progress towards our objectives. We need to employ adaptive management, working with and learning from that system (see below) to continuously improve what we are doing. People regularly claim they are doing adaptive management but, as my father would say, they’re almost all victims of ‘immaculate self-deception’. To overcome this, there needs to be an explicit recognition that we don’t know everything – this is very hard for governments and management agencies. This is why we need to monitor, why we need research and why we need to link monitoring and research to achieve true adaptive management. One measure of our atrocious record of environmental monitoring is the lack of formally funded and supported long-term ecological research (LTER) sites in Australia. The US has a long history of support for a major network of LTER sites. Brazil also has a true LTER system, as do many other nations including such impoverished ones as Malawi and the Philippines. But not Australia. Without LTER sites and without monitoring, we’ve got limited ability to track our progress on management and we can’t work out how well we are doing with management actions like fox baiting, weed control and many other well-intentioned activities. It means that we can’t gauge sustainability, whatever we define that to be, in terms of the sector that we are dealing with. Sir John Lawton, Fellow of the Royal Society, wrote 10 years ago that if you don’t have good science to underpin management it resembles alchemy and faith healing (Lawton 1997). Sometimes you get good results, often you don’t, but you have no idea what is going on. Little has changed since he penned that quote. A consequence is that we suffer from a policy surplus but an action deficit. We have experienced a major decline in our research and technical capability, and instead we have lots of weasel words woven throughout an ever-mounting pile of documents about how we are going to manage natural resources. LESSON #2: ADAPTIVE MANAGEMENT The idea of adaptive management is bandied about enormously in the literature. A check shows over 2000 references in the scientific literature to adaptive management in the last 10 years. Yet there are almost no true published examples of adaptive management anywhere in the world (Stankey et al. 2003). Many people assume that adaptive management is just ‘doing stuff’ and then, if we happen to find out something new, changing what we’re doing. However, adaptive management is actually a formal process of linking experiments with an understanding of a system to monitor change; management practices are updated in a formal iterative way as new information is

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obtained. This involves a strong partnership between managers and researchers. Some of the most beautifully designed experiments have failed the ‘test of management relevance’ (RussellSmith et al. 2003). Russell-Smith and his colleagues explain how the fire experiment they led in northern Australia failed the test of relevance because it wasn’t designed with fire managers. Scientists were remiss in not trying to forge that partnership; a key lesson is that it takes strong partnerships between managers and scientists to do true adaptive management. Some key attributes of true adaptive management are a willingness to embrace uncertainty, a serious long-term commitment to research, well-designed monitoring and a commitment to change when the results suggest change is necessary (Lindenmayer & Franklin 2002). LESSON #3: REPEATING PAST MISTAKES The third lesson is that we keep repeating the mistakes of the past. At the moment there are calls to develop agriculture in northern Australia. Without careful use of existing environmental knowledge, we run the risk of repeating the mistakes made in southern Australia. Indeed, it seems that we have conveniently forgotten the CSIRO land capability mapping that showed why there has not been extensive agricultural development in northern Australia to date. What do we need to do? I strongly believe that we need to use the knowledge we have now to avoid repeating those past mistakes. Northern Australia is a classic example. The lessons that we’ve learnt in the south are not to over-intensify our agriculture, not to over-irrigate, to make sure that we’ve got a sensible reserve system and not to overcommit the natural resources of our landscapes. LESSON #4: OVERCOMMITTING LANDSCAPES Lesson 4 is that we always overcommit landscapes. We invoke one of Norman Lindsay’s great book characters and treat landscapes like magic puddings. We take from them and somehow, magically, expect the (landscape) ‘pudding’ to grow back again. A consequence of magic pudding syndrome is that water resources are overcommitted, land is overcommitted and there’s insufficient margin for the other environmental services that we expect from those landscapes. LESSON #5: INEFFECTIVENESS OF CRISIS MANAGEMENT Lesson 5 is that we always do crisis management. Conservation biology is regarded as a crisis discipline that tries to deal with biodiversity loss, but the reality is that environmental management is also a crisis discipline. When we manage in crisis mode, whether it’s attempted control of weeds, preventing overfishing or attempted recovery of threatened or endangered species, it always costs a lot more than proactive management. In many cases crisis management is spectacularly unsuccessful. LESSON #6: THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM Lesson 6 is that we are really good at ignoring the big question, the elephant in the room – how many people do we want in Australia? Barney Foran and his colleagues have estimated that if we want 50 million people in Australia by 2050 we are going to need another 90 cities the size of Canberra, or two cities, Melbourne and Sydney, with populations of around about 10 million people each (Foran & Poldy 2002). When there are calls to increase the nation’s population size, we need to ask how that would affect the environment of this country which is already buckling under severe problems

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with ~20 million people. Australia leads the world in terms of resource consumption per capita. It takes about 200 t of resources per person per year to run the average Australian with our current standard of living, higher than the average person in the US. Severn Cullis-Suzuki pointed out in Chapter 2 that by the time the average Canadian is six months old, they’ve consumed the same quantity of resources as that used during an entire life in the Third World. In Australia, that baby might be three months old rather than six months. If you consider the resources produced in Australia, the amount of wheat, wool, iron ore, coal and energy exported to drive the economies of other countries, we have a phantom population of not 20 million but some 400 million. As extraordinary as it seems, it appears that we simply can’t discuss the issue of population size: it’s a taboo subject. In a recent Queensland election, some politicians said they would ‘solve’ the water supply crisis in southeastern Queensland by building a dam on the flood plain of the Mary River. No mention at any stage that the population in that region has been growing at ~1500 per week for many years now (Skinner et al. 1998). Nobody considered that unrestrained human population growth might be environmentally unsustainable. If we are to develop any long-term vision for this country, we have to confront the issues of the number of people, their standards of living and levels of resource consumption before we can begin to talk about ecological sustainability. We need a broad debate about these issues. WRAPPING UP To summarise, we first need to think more deeply about defining ecological sustainability in different contexts. Ecologically sustainable fire management, forest management, farming and fisheries each demand their own definition. Second, we need proper adaptive management based on well-designed monitoring and long-term research and we must use that knowledge to avoid repeating past environmental mistakes. If we do these things, we may avoid overcommitting our landscapes and avoid crisis management which is expensive and generally doesn’t work. Finally, we need to confront the elephant in the room – human population size.

GENERAL PRINCIPLES FOR LANDSCAPE MANAGEMENT What general ecological principles to guide landscape management can we apply to the task ahead of us? In March 2006, a group of 30 of the best minds in landscape ecology and landscape management were brought together to come up with general principles for landscape management. We started with six broad themes in landscape ecology: 1 2 3 4 5 6

landscape classification; habitat amount, amount of land cover, patch sizes and mosaics; vegetation structure and condition; connectivity; significance of edges; disturbance, resilience and recovery.

For each theme, three researchers each wrote an essay on their perspectives on key issues and possible general principles. From this, a set of guiding principles for landscape management were distilled (Lindenmayer & Hobbs 2007; Lindenmayer et al. 2007a). Ten of these are summarised in the box below and briefly discussed in the remainder of this section.

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One of the first insights was that the major themes in landscape ecology are far more connected than most people recognise. For example, the way we classify landscapes has many implications for management; it impacts on the way we interpret edge effects, define habitat quality, interpret landscape conditions and assess the condition of patches within a landscape. All the principles listed below are connected far more significantly to the way we chose to view and classify landscapes than any of the delegates at the workshop had comprehended before we started. Another realisation was the tension between the general and the specific, between motherhood statements and a principle that is so specific it applies only to, for example, the heathlands of south-west Tasmania but is largely irrelevant to anywhere else. A major challenge was to identify principles that sit between the very general and the very specific. Ten principles of landscape management 1 Set clear landscape management objectives and visions. 2 Manage the entire mosaic, not just the patches. 3 Realise the importance of the amount and configuration of native vegetation (avoid low levels of vegetation cover). 4 Identify disproportionately important species, processes and landscape elements. 5 Manage species and ecosystems and recognise their complementarity. 6 Better integrate the management of terrestrial and aquatic environments. 7 Be aware of the values reflected in landscape classification. 8 Maintain the ability to recover after disturbance. 9 Manage for change, as time lags are inevitable in most processes. 10 Manage through ‘landscape learning’, i.e. within an experimental framework.

PRINCIPLE #1: SETTING OBJECTIVES The first principle concerns setting objectives and visions for landscapes, something scientists and managers do poorly at the moment. Objectives are usually very generic, for example ‘maximise wood production and biodiversity conservation’ or ‘maximise agricultural production and biodiversity conservation’. Inherent conflicts mean these twin objectives are clearly impossible. Even within a conservation goal, our actions vary depending on the nature of the objectives. If we are managing for species richness, our actions are very different from those if we are concerned with threatened species, pests, ecological processes or ecosystem services. Take, for example, the objective of minimising fragmentation, an aim found in thousands of management documents. When you actually look at the concept of fragmentation, you discover that it has become a panchreston – it has come to mean all things to all people to fit all cases and all circumstances, and has subsequently lost its meaning (Lindenmayer & Fischer 2007). If we are going to set sensible objectives we have to be explicit about what we mean. A landscape that’s fragmented from a human perspective may not be fragmented from the perspective of another species. If we are managing for a single species, for example, that has very different implications for edge effects and management of native vegetation than if we are managing a landscape from a human perspective. What we are not doing at present is thinking deeply about how we set visions and objectives for landscapes. This affects everything we do. This first step, the one that’s often the hardest to make, is the one that we do most poorly when it comes to environmental management.

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PRINCIPLES #2 AND #3: MANAGE THE MOSAIC AND CONSIDER THE TOTAL AMOUNT OF NATIVE VEGETATION The second and third principles are about the importance of context. We commonly focus on patches without thinking about the context within which those patches sit. We often manage the pieces without thinking about the total amount of vegetation or the total amount of habitat at the landscape scale and how it’s distributed. We are losing context by not thinking about the scales at which we are managing and not thinking about the objectives relevant to each scale. PRINCIPLE #4: IDENTIFY CRITICAL PARTS OF LANDSCAPES The fourth principle concerns the fact that some parts of landscapes are created more equal than others. Cliff-lines, gullies, watercourses and riparian areas, in particular, tend to be disproportionately more important for biodiversity and ecosystem processes such as nutrient flows than are other parts of landscapes. This applies the world over. We should be giving more consideration to how we manage these areas. PRINCIPLES #5 AND #6: MANAGE SPECIES AND ECOSYSTEMS AND INTEGRATE TERRESTRIAL AND AQUATIC ENVIRONMENTS The fifth and sixth principles concern artificial barriers within the discipline of ecology. There is a long-running debate in the ecological literature about managing individual species versus managing for ecosystem processes; the literature on those two fundamental aspects of ecology is rarely brought together (Lindenmayer et al. 2007b). We also tend to separate terrestrial from aquatic environments, as if they are completely separate and have nothing to do with one another. PRINCIPLE #7: CONSIDER THE METHOD OF LANDSCAPE CLASSIFICATION The seventh principle concerns the classification of landscapes. This might sound very academic but it becomes important as soon as we start to work through the other principles. Landscape ecologists and managers classify landscapes, either explicitly or implicitly, based on their own mental models of landscapes. These models or conceptualisations enable us to make visual interpretations about the species, ecological processes or resources within a landscape, how they are distributed and how they should be managed. Understandably, we often fall back on a human perspective of how we think a landscape should look. But to expect all species to respond in the same way as a human perceives that landscape is misguided. How we classify landscapes fundamentally influences our objectives and visions. For example, it is common within conservation biology for people to think of landscapes as islands of habitat within a matrix of non-habitat, for instance as reserves within a production landscape. Reserves dominate the conservation biology literature, despite the fact that most biodiversity actually exists outside reserve systems. This doesn’t mean that reserves aren’t important; it just means that off-reserve areas are commonly undervalued. As a result we fail to integrate conservation and production – a reality which is, in part, a consequence of our conceptual model of a landscape. For example, on the left in Figure 3.1 is a partially cleared grazing landscape. That landscape can be classified in various ways. It can be viewed in terms of patches, corridors and the surrounding matrix, the classic model used in production landscapes (top). Using a variegated landscape model (McIntyre & Hobbs 1999) we can recognise the important role of scattered paddock trees, enabling animals, plants and processes to move through the landscape

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Patch corridor matrix

Variegated model

Contour or continuum model

Figure 3.1: Different perspectives of the same landscape using different landscape conceptual models Source: Redrawn from Lindenmayer et al. (2007a).

(middle). This model starts to blur the boundaries between reserve and off-reserve areas, and extends resource management over a larger area. A third way of perceiving this landscape is the habitat contour model, which reflects the habitat suitability of that landscape for particular species (bottom). Habitat contours are the spatial patterns that emerge from the interactions between processes such as food availability, shelter space, climate suitability, competition and predation (Fischer & Lindenmayer 2004). They indicate where concentrations of that species are most likely to be found. The key point is that we can look at the same landscape in different ways, using different models, with quite different implications for the way we manage that landscape. These differences matter, as they can significantly influence management planning and on-the-ground actions (Lindenmayer & Fischer 2006). PRINCIPLE #8: MAINTAIN THE ABILITY TO RECOVER AFTER DISTURBANCE It is important to maintain the potential for landscapes to recover from disturbance. This includes maintaining processes and flows and the ability of the biota in a landscape to cope with extreme events, such as floods and droughts. Managers need to better recognise that natural disturbances can be valuable for ecosystems. However, rather than allowing events to drive management responses, it may be better to anticipate extreme events and plan contingencies before they occur. For example, in Australia’s wet forests, where fires can be standreplacing events, sustained timber yield calculations need to factor in the effects of fires (rather

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than ignoring them) and thereby avoid overcommitting forest resources if some areas are burned in a wildfire. PRINCIPLE #9: MANAGE FOR CHANGE Management practices often fail to account for the fact that landscapes are dynamic and that changes can be non-linear and sometimes related to threshold phenomena. We need to plan management to accommodate successional dynamics, spatial and temporal mosaics, colonisation and extinction processes, and likely range-shifts associated with climate change. Thus, we need to evolve beyond traditional institutional tendencies to ignore potential problems until they become critical, only then instigating crisis management (Hobbs et al. 2003). PRINCIPLE #10: MANAGE IN AN EXPERIMENTAL FRAMEWORK The final principle reiterates the importance of adaptive management. The only way we are really going to learn about landscapes, to learn about how to integrate conservation and production, is through experiments that include a commitment to long-term research, welldesigned monitoring and recognition of our ignorance.

SUMMING UP The 10 general principles briefly outlined are strongly context-dependent and cannot be applied uncritically in all landscapes. The way they might be applied in the forest landscapes in northern Tasmania might be markedly different from the grazing landscapes of mainland Australia. They are best worked through not in a prescriptive way but as a checklist of things to think about, in particular via visions and objectives. Are we managing for patches or are we putting them into the context of a landscape mosaic? How much habitat and how much total vegetation cover do we have, and what is its habitat for? What are we managing the vegetation for – a particular species, ecosystem processes or both?

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The first part of this chapter is based on work that appears in more extended form in a book co-published by CSIRO Publishing and Penguin. The second part borrows heavily from work undertaken in collaboration with Professor Richard Hobbs and a bevy of other colleagues who attended a landscape management workshop in March 2006.

REFERENCES Hobbs RJ, Cramer VA & Kristjanson LJ (2003). What happens if we can’t fix it? Triage, palliative care and setting priorities in salinising landscapes. Australian Journal of Botany 51, 647–653. Fischer J & Lindenmayer DB (2004). Appreciating ecological complexity: habitat contours as a conceptual model. Conservation Biology 18, 1245–1253. Foran B & Poldy F (2002). Future dilemmas. Options to 2050 for Australia’s population, technology, resources and environment. Working paper 02/01. CSIRO Sustainable Ecosystems: Canberra. 28

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Lawton J (1997). The science and non-science of conservation biology. Oikos 79, 3–5. Lindenmayer DB (2007). On borrowed time: Australia’s biodiversity crisis. CSIRO Publishing/ Penguin: Melbourne. Lindenmayer DB & Franklin JF (2002). Conserving forest biodiversity: a comprehensive multi-scaled approach. Island Press: Washington DC. Lindenmayer DB & Fischer J (2006). Landscape change and habitat fragmentation. Island Press: Washington DC. Lindenmayer DB & Fischer J (2007). Tackling the habitat fragmentation panchreston. Trends in Ecology & Evolution 22, 127–132. Lindenmayer DB & Hobbs RJ (eds) (2007). Managing and designing landscapes for conservation: moving from perspectives to principles. Blackwell Publishing: Oxford. Lindenmayer DB, Hobbs R, Montague-Drake R, Alexandra J, Bennett A, Burgman M, Cale P, Calhoun A, Cramer V, Cullen P, Driscoll D, Fahrig L, Fischer J, Franklin J, Haila Y, Hunter M, Gibbons P, Lake S, Luck G, McIntyre S, MacNally R, Manning A, Miller J, Mooney H, Noss R, Possingham H, Saunders D, Schmiegelow F, Scott M, Simberloff D, Sisk T, Walker B, Wiens J, Woinarski J & Zavaleta E (2007a). Ecological management and design of landscapes for conservation: are there general principles? Ecology Letters 10, 1–14. Lindenmayer DB, Fischer J, Felton A, Montague-Drake R, Manning A, Simberloff D, Youngentob K, Saunders D, Blomberg S, Wilson D, Felton AM, Blackmore C, Lowe A & Elliott CP (2007b). The complementarity of single-species and ecosystem-oriented research in conservation research. Oikos 116, 1220–1226. McIntyre S & Hobbs R (1999). A framework for conceptualizing human effects on landscapes and its relevance to management and research models. Conservation Biology 13, 1282–1292. Russell-Smith J, Whitehead PJ, Cook GD & Hoare JL (2003). Response of Eucalyptus-dominated savanna to frequent fires: lessons from Munmarlary, 1973–1996. Ecological Monographs 73, 349–375. Skinner JL, Gilliam E & Rohlin C-J (1998). The demographic future of the Moreton region. In Moreton Bay and catchment (eds R Tibbetts, N Hall & WC Dennison), pp. 245–265. School of Marine Science, University of Queensland: Queensland. Stankey GH, Bormann BT, Ryan C, Shindler B, Sturtevant V, Clark RN & Philpot C (2003). Adaptive management and the Northwest Forest Plan: rhetoric and reality. Journal of Forestry 101, 40–46. Watson D (2004). Watson’s dictionary of weasel words, contemporary clichés, cant and management jargon. Random House: Sydney.

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4 Consuming the Earth Barney Foran

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his chapter examines three big issues facing Australia – population, resource use and how to construct pathways to a sustainable economy. To do this I will attempt to join the dots between five recent studies commissioned by governments and NGOs: Future dilemmas (Foran & Poldy 2002) on human population; Balancing act (Foran et al. 2005), that calculates the resource content of each dollar; the ACF environmental atlas (Dey et al. 2007), which maps our environmental footprint; Trade and biodiversity (Lenzen & Foran 2007), which looks at the implications of trade on threatened species; and Powerful choices (Foran & Crane 2006), examining alternative pathways for the Australian economy. Future dilemmas looked at the whole economy and asked ‘What would different population growth rates and population targets mean for Australia by 2050?’ It was based on a physical model of the economy with modules covering agriculture, forestry, mining, fisheries, labour, transport, infrastructure and consumables. It looked at three population scenarios: low (deep green), medium (policy) and high (business). Each was chosen to mimic different views in our society. The policy scenario in Figure 4.1 reflected our current settings then, which would see Australia reaching a population of about 25 million people by 2050, at a time when the world population is expected to reach 8–9 billion. Maintaining 2007 immigration settings will see population size somewhat larger than that by 2050, perhaps in the region of 29 million people. One of the findings of Future dilemmas was that we were going to vastly exceed our Kyoto target for emissions of greenhouse gases even at the lowest population growth rate, despite assumptions about quite aggressive changes to our generation and end-use technologies (Figure 4.2). The difference between the Kyoto line and the lowest population target was due to three factors: Australia’s trade with the rest of the world, its rising affluence and increasing inbound tourism which brings demands not allied to the local population.

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Millons

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2096

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Time of simulation Figure 4.1: Different scenarios for Australia’s population to 2100 Source: Reproduced with permission from Future dilemmas (Foran & Poldy 2002)

Million tonnes per year

Another wake-up call was the gap between our needs and the production of oil, and eventually natural gas. Figure 4.3 shows that we are somewhere around peak oil now and there will be a gradual slide over the next 20–30 years. We will still be pumping out a few barrels of oil in 25 years but the yawning gap between what we produce domestically and what we require,

Time of simulation Figure 4.2: Three scenarios for Australia’s total CO2 emissions to 2051 Source: Reproduced with permission from Future dilemmas (Foran & Poldy 2002)

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Million tonnes per year

(a)

Time of simulation

Million Milliontonnes tonnesper peryear year

(b)

Time of simulation Figure 4.3: Predicted Australian production of crude oil and condensate (a) and natural gas (b) to 2051 and demand under three scenarios Source: Reproduced with permission from Future dilemmas (Foran & Poldy 2002)

under all three population scenarios, is huge and worth billions of dollars in trade deficit oil prices. Of course we have a huge abundance of gas – which we are rapidly exporting to the world – and that big camel’s hump in Figure 4.3 could easily fill the deficit until about 2050 according to our modelling, but nowhere are we making the strategic changes to our car fleets and our factories to bring about that transition which is significant given that these changes take about 25 years.

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Figure 4.4: 2004 predictions of globally available oil and liquid natural gas to 2050 Source: Campbell (2003)

This is set within a global situation (Figure 4.4) where we are approaching peak production of all fossil fuels. Part of our problem will in some ways be solved when we’re on the downward slope as economies crash worldwide and excessive consumption declines. A wise government that is thinking in generational terms should be making big plans about what to do but policy concern is pretty low at the moment. One of the things to come out of Future dilemmas was a set of focused questions that we tackled in a subsequent study, Balancing act (Foran et al. 2005). If Future dilemmas was a bulldozer driving through our future, Balancing act was laser surgery, looking in detail at resource use patterns in the 135 sectors that make up the Australian economy. We combined input/output tables that tracked flows of money between different sectors with physical and social accounts to produce resource intensity per dollar of activity. One way to represent this is in the form of spider diagrams with three social indicators (taxation, employment and income), three monetary or financial indicators (exports, imports and profits) and four environmental indicators (land disturbance, water use, primary energy use and greenhouse gas emissions). The heavy line in Figure 4.5 is the resource intensity per unit cost of a product; the inner line is the economy-wide average, expressed as one to allow comparisons between vastly different things. The further outside that line, the greater the relative resource intensity per dollar of activity and the bigger the issue; the closer you map inside that line the closer you are to God. Figure 4.5a shows the results for wheat and other grains. They rate well on employment but we really pay farmers very little, which is how we get cheap bread. Land disturbance is high with a broadacre crop like wheat and water use is relatively high mainly because the ‘wheat and other grains’ sector includes rice. Primary energy use is lower than average as agriculture is fairly efficient in the use of diesel but greenhouse gas emissions are above average due to nitrogen fertilisers which volatilise to produce nitrous oxides. If we look at the resource intensity of soft drink, beer and wine (Figure 4.5b, c, d) we see a case for drinking more beer – it has the most waterless impact on the environment, largely because of the high water consumption involved in processing wine and soft drinks. 34

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Consuming the Earth

A. Wheat and other grains

B. Softdrinks, cordials and syrups

C. Beer and malt

D. Wine and spirits

Figure 4.5: Spider diagrams showing resource intensity per dollar of activity for (a) wheat and other grains, (b) soft drinks, (c) beer and (d) wine and spirits using social indicators (taxation, employment, income), financial indicators (exports, imports, profits) and environmental indicators (land disturbance, water use, primary energy use, greenhouse gas emissions) Source: Reproduced with permission from Balancing act (Foran et al. 2005)

This leads us to a third study. Combining the knowledge of the resources embodied in every dollar of consumption with household expenditure surveys enabled the Australian Conservation Foundation to map Australia’s resource footprint at fine scale (Dey et al. 2007). This produced a series of graphs showing greenhouse gas emissions, water and total ecological footprint of household expenditure per person by statistical local area or shire. Three things stand out: 1 2 3

the more money you spend the more greenhouse gas is embodied in the production chain; Tasmania has noticeably lower emissions due to its use of hydroelectricity; for any one income group, say $20 000+ per capita, there are structural differences in the production process, depending on state.

The range within any one income group shows that spending and consumption patterns can have vastly different effects on our greenhouse gas emissions depending on where we are. The same can be done for the water content of household expenditure, shown for NSW and Sydney in Figure 4.6. It shows that per capita water consumption is higher in Sydney than in the rest of NSW and higher in the inner suburbs where we see bumper stickers like ‘Save the 35

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Water use Mega-Litres per person < 0.60 0.60–0.65 0.65–0.70 0.70–0.75 0.75–0.80 0.80–0.85 0.85–0.90 > 0.90

Water use Mega-Litres per person < 0.60 0.60–0.65 0.65–0.70 0.70–0.75 0.75–0.80 0.80–0.85 0.85–0.90 > 0.90

Figure 4.6: Embodied water use by statistical local area (SLA) for Sydney (bottom) and NSW (top) Source: ACF (2008)

world’ and in the more affluent suburbs around the harbour and northern beaches. Residents of the eastern suburbs are responsible for 1.2 million L of water use each year in their household income. The point is, water use is not just the direct consumption of 100 000 L per person but is right through the production chain. Our greenhouse, water and total ecological footprints are many times greater than shown in our utility bills. Our consumption choices influence not only our water and carbon footprints but also biodiversity. In the fourth study, Trade and biodiversity (Lenzen & Foran 2007), we looked at the impacts of trade on threatened species by mapping global trade flows between 240 countries. Our information sources were the best of available world data from the CIA World Book, the World Bank and many others. These were married to the location of threatened and endangered species listed in the IUCN’s Red Book. The result is shown in Figure 4.7. It shows,

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Threatened plants

Threatened amphibians

Threatened fishes

Figure 4.7: Top 10 globalised trade flows of threatened species Source: Reproduced with permission from Lenzen and Foran (2007)

for example, 53 endangered plants embodied in trade between Malaysia and the US, 29 in trade between Malaysia and China, and (curiously) 15 endangered plant species embodied in trade between Yemen and China, apparently due to the charcoal trade. If we take the number of species threatened by territorial production (production within a country), add the countries that are effectively importing threatened species and subtract exports of threatened species, we arrive at a league table of the top 10 countries that are consuming the world’s biodiversity. It starts with the US at 1000 species then come China, Germany, Japan, the UK, France, the Netherlands, Spain, Italy and South Korea at about 150–200 species each. If you group the EU 15, their consumption is about equal to or greater than the US. So, the currently affluent along with rapidly industrialising countries are responsible for the huge pressure being put on biodiversity. These are countries driven by consumers who shop at the likes of Wal-Mart, Ikea and Harvey Norman. When we relate the flow of species embodied in trade to the map of the world’s energy use, there’s an obvious autocorrelation with high risk to biodiversity and affluent industrialised countries. The fifth and final study is Powerful choices (Foran & Crane 2006), which examined how we might make the transition to an economy driven on renewable energy with much lower carbon emissions. One transition path that works a treat is to generate huge volumes of wood across Australia that supplies bio-alcohol liquid fuels plus bioelectricity, with additional large contributions from solar photovoltaics, solar thermal and wind power. The study used two scenarios: the Base Case with an economy that grows at 2–3% a year for the next 30–40 years, and the Methanol+Renewable – Electricity scenario

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Figure 4.8: The effects of two energy scenarios (Base Case and Meth+Ren–Elec) on GDP, growth in GDP, personal consumption of embodied energy and CO2 emissions to 2051 Source: Reproduced with permission from Foran and Crane (2006)

(Meth+Ren–Elec), a combination of two aggressive scenarios based on generating liquid fuels and electricity from renewable sources. It requires growing 50 million ha of wood on our farmland occupying 10% of pastoral land, 10% of crop land and 10% of ‘rough land’, thus avoiding a wall-to-wall woody landscape. Under the Base Case our GDP and CO2 keep growing until we hit natural gas depletion in the mid-2040s (Figure 4.8). Along the way domestic oil runs out around 2020 and domestic gas around 2045 but coal hardly suffers a blip. Given the current nuclear power debate, it’s interesting to note that this model suggests that we will be just about out of high-quality uranium by 2050, which highlights the short-term political expediency of national politics and that we collectively do not really look to the future. The Meth+Ren–Elec scenario, in comparison, involves a cut in GDP growth from 3.5% to 1% until the depletion of domestic oil, almost down to nought for a whole human generation, climbing gradually back to 3% over the next 30 years. The good news is that CO2 emissions drop from the current 350 million t per annum to pre-1980 levels of 200 million t per annum, while under the Base Case they climb to over 900 million t per annum. In summary, we suffer a drop in GDP growth rate for one human generation but the index of national wealth almost returns to equal the Base Case by 2050 while CO2 is down by about 65%, at a rough cost to us personally of halving our physical affluence, the stuff we churn through our households. We can also look at it in terms of maintenance of our national wealth or the sum total of all the things we build and own. Our national wealth and infrastructure over the two human generations required for this transition doesn’t go down but does change significantly in composition. The point is that GDP is not the only way to see the world. There are different measures of the nature and resilience of our economy, and it’s important in analyses like this to be fluent in the language of economics and argue the case with those who challenge the necessity of radical change in our economy.

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One important aspect of a transition like this is rebound. The federal treasurer typically tries to ramp up growth and give us plenty of widgets and flat screen TVs, while the governor of the Reserve Bank tries to rein it back, because in a funny way our monetary policy and environment policy both require constraint to stop the economy spinning off into the nevernever. For example, it’s ‘common knowledge’ that every baby boomer wants to move to Queensland. When you get there as an environmentally aware citizen, you buy the old Queenslander, put in new light bulbs, solar hot water and insulation – the rationale is that it saves you money so it’s got to be good. But what you do with that money is the key issue. You could actually produce more emissions if you change your spending patterns. It’s not just about efficiency; it’s about what you do with the savings. Even if it doesn’t generate more CO2 under a carbon tax regime, a dollar spent may be giving another environmental scab, eating up more biodiversity, causing more land degradation and using more water. What should we be doing as individuals? The transition to a lighter economy is going to be a very bumpy road, as my figures show, and we’re going to have to love each other and admire each other and respect each other a lot more because we’re going to have to rely on each other much more than we do now. The box below lists 10 useful things we can do at home and in our communities. The first thing is to think about spending less and saving more. But where do you put those savings? Under the mattress? We need bigger and wiser debates about that. Another is buying things locally to reduce embodied transport energy. The transport issue in general is difficult. At the very least we can start by offsetting vehicle emissions by investing in trees for the medium term. For 15 years I have owned about 4 ha of planted forest in North Queensland, which has kept me moderately carbon-neutral. I’ve sold that to buy a new place, and now I’m getting ready to plant 1–2 ha of new forest to get me carbon-neutral while I try to find out how to deal with the transport issue. Ten things we can do At home 1 Spend less and save, remember rebound, but where to invest? 2 Spend wisely and locally, consider second-hand clothing and furniture. 3 De-carbonise your household (grid-connected solar power, solar hot water, light bulbs). 4 Change content of diet but stay healthy (water trade-offs, vegie garden). 5 Transport is difficult – plant a forest/offset. In our communities 6 Save money, invest it in Australian companies, buy local. 7 Become an active shareholder. 8 Hassle your local/state/federal member about the ‘new economy’. 9 Transfer wealth directly to needy communities in nearby countries. 10 Invest time in local community.

To summarise: I have tried to outline some of the big issues we face in a making the transition to a sustainable economy. In Chapter 2, Severn Cullis-Suzuki suggests we are all revolutionaries. To bring about this revolution we have to start by understanding the complexities of our lifestyle and our economy, by understanding politics and getting some traction to stop our environmental footprint ramping up. We need to moderate our activities over the course of the

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next human generation, the next 25 years, to bring that footprint down. That challenge is up to us; we can’t rely on government to do it for us.

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Q: I read an article recently that said we need to replace fossil fuels with fuels like ethanol, yet you are talking about methanol. What is the difference? A: The methanol cycle is a far better industrial cycle with a much better conversion ratio than ethanol where sugarcane, wheat or corn provides feedstock for bugs to make alcohol, much like making beer or rum. Methanol is a second- or third-generation biofuel that uses trees or wood as a feedstock. The key thing is that we have to replace fossil carbon with biological carbon. However, ethanol and methanol are less economically efficient than concentrated fossil fuels in terms of getting a cheap litre of fuel into your car. In some ways that is the important change we have to make. We have to slow down the economy, make many things more expensive and change our expectations that we can have more and more. Q: Some 40% of natural gas consumption goes into making fertiliser, and I am wondering what would be the impact of increasingly using natural gas as a transport fuel? A: You are onto a key issue there. It’s been suggested that if it weren’t for the invention of the process to make nitrogen fertiliser from natural gas, the Earth’s population could only have reached 3 billion people because we would have to rely on the natural nitrogen cycle using legumes and compost. This is a big challenge, and governments should be showing some foresight by putting a limit on exports and retaining a strategic reserve for fertiliser manufacture and farm operations. Q: What plans do government have when natural gas runs out? A: I’ve been talking to them for 10 years about that and they’re still sitting back, but the penny will drop. The realisation that natural gas is a finite resource is starting to appear in the international energy literature. The thing about natural gas is that when a hole runs out it just stops overnight, whereas an oil hole keeps on pumping for years as it slowly declines. It’s a good point: we’ve got to reserve strategic supplies, and we should be building a nitrogen fertiliser factory on the North-west Shelf. Q: What about hydrogen as an energy source? A: Hydrogen is not an energy source, it’s a carrier. You have to make it from something. At the moment hydrogen is made from natural gas. Methanol is a hydrogen carrier, and each molecule of methanol has four hydrogen atoms so it’s a good hydrogen carrier. Hydrogen could be made from coal in the future but that would be more energy- and greenhouse-intensive than making it from natural gas.

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Q: This country has a habit of shipping off all the good stuff and us keeping the rubbish. We burn brown coal and export all the black coal. If we’ve got so much gas, why aren’t we using it to develop our own industries and generating wealth to invest into a renewable system? It just makes a lot of sense to be looking at that as a step. A: I think the problem is the idea that ‘we want it all and we want it now’, as Freddy Mercury used to say. At the moment, natural gas is being developed using overseas money. Those companies are not looking after Australia, they’re looking after Chevron and Shell and BP and so on. In Venezuela, Hugo Chavez is getting very aggressive about kicking out multinational companies. I think he may be going too far, but on the other hand a certain amount of economic nationalism is a good thing. As soon as we hit a serious crisis in Australia, I think that issue will come up again, and if we’ve got good plans like you suggest then that’s part of making a relatively smooth transition rather than a chaotic one.

REFERENCES ACF 2008. Consumption atlas. http://www.acfonline.org.au/consumptionatlas. Campbell C (2003). Oil depletion: the heart of the matter. Association for the Study of Peak Oil and Gas. Available online at http://www.oilcrisis.com/campbell. Dey C, Berger C, Foran B, Foran M, Joske R, Lenzen M & Wood R (2007). Household environmental pressure from consumption: an Australian environmental atlas. In Water wind art and debate: how environmental concerns impact on disciplinary research (ed. G Birch). University of Sydney Press, Sydney. Available online at http://ses.library.usyd.edu.au/bitstream/2123/2104/1/ WaterWindCh9Dey.pdf. Accessed 14 January 2008. Foran BD & Crane D (2006). Powerful choices: options for Australia’s transition to a low-carbon economy. In Advances in energy studies: perspectives on energy futures, 5th biennial international workshop, Porto Venere, 12–16 September 2006. Foran BD & Poldy F (2002). Future dilemmas: options to 2050 for Australia’s population, technology, resources and environment. Consultancy project report for Federal Dept of Immigration, Multicultural and Indigenous Affairs. Available online at http://www.cse.csiro.au/publications/2002/ fulldilemmasreport02–01.pdf. Accessed 14 January 2008. Foran B, Lenzen M & Dey C (2005). Balancing act: a triple bottom line analysis of the Australian economy. Consultancy project report for Federal Dept of Environment and Heritage. Available online at http://www.cse.csiro.au/research/futures/balancingact/index.htm. Accessed 14 January 2008. Lenzen M & Foran BD (2007). Threatened species and world trade. Draft ms submitted to PNAS, October 2007.

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5 Balancing the three-legged stool: a case study of forest conversion and conservation Ian Dickenson, AO

I

n an increasingly global market for agricultural products, the challenge of maintaining a viable farming business becomes increasingly difficult. The objective of maintaining a balance between social, environmental and economic factors requires careful long-term planning, commitment and compromise. This case study demonstrates the planning process adopted by our family to achieve such a balance on our property, ‘Elverton’, in northern Tasmania. Because the property is within the water catchment of Launceston, a city of 105 000 people, water quantity and quality are important considerations for management. Biodiversity issues in native forests are also of increasing significance. This case study centres on our decision to conserve or convert 205 ha of native forest to plantations. It examines the nature of the decisions and the impacts of converting native forest to plantation using the analogy of a three-legged stool to represent the balance of social, environmental and economic objectives. One outcome was to fence off watercourses running through the property, and this case study includes an independent evaluation of the environmental services resulting from riparian protection.

THE PROPERTY AND THE ISSUES I am proud to be a farmer. Providing food and fibre for the world to consume is a worthwhile occupation but at times challenging. The properties in this case study cover 2203 ha. The

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Table 5.1: Land use at Elverton by land management and enterprise type a) Land use and land management by area Land use

Land management

Agriculture

Dryland agriculture and grazing

Reserves

%

Irrigated land

300

Other native forest

160

7.3

Native forest in reserves

122

5.5

80

3.6

Stream-side reserves and eagle nests Forestry

ha

Native forest dedicated to timber Plantations P. radiata

60.8

359 59

2.6

10

0.5

E. nitens

53

2.4

22

Total

16.4 16.3

C. macrocarpa

Roads, shelterbelts and infrastructure

Total %

1038

5.5 1.0

2203

100

b) Livestock enterprises by class Enterprise

Class

Beef

Breeding herd

No./ha

Replacement heifers

200

Fattening stock

404

Bulls Fat lambs

23

Breeding flock

1963

Lambs @ average 125%

2450

Rams

23

Winter carrying capacity (dse) a Cropping

Total

750

1377

4436

15 Canning peas

90

Grass seed production

20

a: Dry sheep equivalent

enterprises are beef cattle breeding, prime lamb breeding, cropping including canning peas and grass seed production, native forests for conservation and wood fibre production, and softwood, hardwood and special species plantations covering 5.5% of the area (Table 5.1, Figure 5.1). Our property management plan is largely developed and we intend to use slightly over 60% of the land area for agriculture. In north-east Tasmania, the average annual rainfall (when we get an average year!) is 850 mm. Our land elevation ranges from 350 m to 700 m, with most of our agriculture and other enterprise located towards the lower elevation. Our environment can sometimes be challenging. Over the past 38 years, while we have been developing the properties, it would be fair to say that we have changed the apparent level of biodiversity. In a global marketplace, coupled with the Australian government’s competition policy, farmers are continually looking for ways to increase production and implement efficiencies and these changes often result in the loss of biodiversity. In 1995 I attended a whole-farm planning course, which resulted in the first formal development of a plan for our property. Forestry has, and hopefully will always remain, an important part of our business. During the 1970s and 1980s we harvested low-quality native forest,

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Figure 5.1: Elverton in March 2006, showing its mosaic of land uses including native vegetation, plantation, irrigated crops and pasture, dryland agriculture and riparian reserve (see front cover for detail). Photo courtesy of Private Forests Tasmania.

mainly producing pulpwood. In recent years, our forestry operation has been focused on selectively harvesting those native forests, keeping them in as natural a state as possible but with an eye to using those areas for timber production. The policy instruction to our bushmen is ‘leave the best and take the rest’. Hopefully, the long-term outcomes of this management strategy will be increased regeneration opportunities and a much higher yield of sawlog and veneer logs for the next generation. This is based on the underlying belief that the more valuable we make our forests, the more effort we can and will put into their care and management.

THE DECISION In 1995 we had to make a decision about the future of one of our native forest blocks. It was 299 ha in area, predominantly consisting of Eucalyptus viminalis and E. amygdalina. The previous owners sold all the trees that were suitable for sawlog, bearing in mind that I bought this property in 1969 before we had a woodchip export facility in Tasmania. Because all the sawlog had been taken, there was no remaining value placed on the forest from a commercial timber point of view. We agonised over what we were going to do with the block. We enjoyed hunting in it and walking in it, and it was a decision that the family thought very seriously about before we converted it to plantations. The first move was to write to the Tasmanian Private Forest Reserve Program, an organisation set up to assist landowners to place a covenant on their property and be paid compensation in recognition of the area lost to timber production. Accordingly, this area was assessed by

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Table 5.2: Management options for a 299 ha forest block on Elverton, north-east Tasmania, considered as part of the property management plan designed to meet environmental, landscape and agricultural objectives Option

Activity

1

Set 205 ha of native forest for protection under Private Forest Reserve Program (CAR) and receive a one-off negotiated paymenta

Area/value

2

Actively manage the native forest, with the following components (23 ha remained as non-forest)

2A

Harvest native forest and convert to plantations and pasture

205

2B

Establish and manage a 102 ha hardwood and softwood plantation

102

2C

Establish 103 ha of pasture

103

2D

Retain 71 ha of native forest

71

$61 500

a: $300/ha is the target price understood to be established by the Private Forest Reserve Program.

scientists for its conservation values. They did not put a high value on it, saying that there was a lot of this forest type in the state and because this particular block had broadacre agriculture bordering on three sides and a plantation area on the back (belonging to neighbours), they could get a better bang for their conservation buck somewhere else. The decision finally taken was to harvest 205 ha of the 299 ha native forest area (Figure 5.2). We have since established on that harvested area 102 ha of hardwood and softwood plantations and developed 103 ha for agriculture (Table 5.2, Option 2). Of the remaining 94 ha, 71 ha is cut-over native forest and 23 ha naturally open grassland. The 71 ha of remaining native forest has a wood stumpage value of approximately $260 000 and that return was simply lost (deducted) from the total which we would have received had it too been cleared for plantations. It is early days in terms of placing a dollar value on various environmental services, but it is a subject that is attracting much more attention and I am confident that a rigorous and transparent method will soon be available for determining such values. An independent assessment placed the environmental services value of the remaining 71 ha of native forest at about $2800 per year (Freeman & Dumsday 2003).

ANALYSIS Option 1 was to conserve the cut-over native forest. The average price being paid by the Private Forest Reserve program was about $300/ha; had we reserved all 205 ha instead of harvesting and clearing, we would have received a cheque for $61 500 as conservation compensation, and a covenant to ensure that that the area remained under conservation protection in perpetuity (Table 5.2). Option 2 was to harvest, which we eventually did. From the 205 ha we took 53 104 t of pulpwood and only 2392 t of sawlog. The stumpage value was $752 544, compared to the $61 500 available for conservation protection (Table 5.3). You could argue that if our family had retained this forested area for its conservation value, we would have been making a net contribution or net loss (depending on perspective) of about $700 000. The difficulty for an agricultural enterprise is that most financial goals have to be achieved, or someone will come and buy the property. In Tasmania there is a very strong market created by MIS (Managed Investment Scheme) companies for broad-scale plantation establishment by investment prospectus. To indicate a gross value of the processed timber, we valued the

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Figure 5.2: (a) Carting sawlogs from native forest harvest in 1998. (b) Native forest block after the harvest in 1999. (c) 2004 view of eucalypt plantation established on the native forest block following the harvest

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Table 5.3: Option 2A – Cost and returns for pulpwood and sawlogs harvested from 205 ha of native forest at Elverton, north-eastern Tasmania, in 2004 Timber sales

Volume

Costs ($)

Returns

Product price Roading, Processing Stumpage (wood chips $78/t compliance & Harvest (36/t & ($13/t & fob; sawn timber management feesa ($15/t & Transport ($7/t) 294/m3) $26/m3) $350/m3 green) $17/m3) $8.17/t Pulpwood (t)

53 104

371 728

796 560

433 860

1 913 040

690 352

Sawlog (m³)

2392

16 744

40 664

14 352

703 248

62 192

837 200

388 472

837 224

448 212

2 616 288

752 544

5 042 740

7.7%

16.6%

8.9%

51.9%

14.9%

100.0%

Total % Product price

4 142 112

Note: Native forest harvesting provides 10 man-years employment. a: Includes planning, roading, industry fees and levies, and supervision.

amounts that came off as pulpwood at the prices that our woodchip exporters receive when it is loaded on the boat, which at the time was $78/t. The 2392 m 3 of sawn material was valued at $350/m3 racked in Launceston, ready to build a fence or house. On this basis, the total market value of processed wood was $5 042 740, a fairly significant sum (Table 5.3). The harvest also provided 10 man-years of employment for our employees (salary and timesheet records, Elverton Pastoral). We recently had pruning contractors in the plantation and are about to do our third and final lift, pruned to 6.5 m height, as the objective is to produce maximum-value knot-free veneer and sawlog from this plantation, along with the balance of lower-grade sawlog and wood fibre. We are pleased with the growth rates and good form. This is a good site for growing wood fibre, and 102 ha of plantation is a viable alternative supplement to other forms of agriculture. We expect to harvest the plantation at age 35 years and use the computer program Farm Forestry Toolbox, developed at Private Forests Tasmania (Warner 2007) for projections on wood yield and other data. My children, hopefully, will realise the sort of benefit outlined in Tables 5.4, 5.5 and 5.6. The processed value previously indicated for our original harvest of 205 ha of silviculturally unmanaged native forest was just over $5 million. Next time, and every 35 years thereafter, the processed wood value from the plantation should be of similar or greater value from just 102 ha area (Table 5.7). The native forest harvesting costs and returns are one-off, but the plantation and grazing enterprises are expected to be ongoing. On these projections, every 35 years the plantation enterprise would provide stumpages of about $1 910 000, about 10 man-years employment and over $8 million worth of manufactured wood products. Benefit–cost analyses were completed for two scenarios, one where timber values were discounted at the low rate of 3% and a second where timber values were discounted at 6%. The value of carbon sequestration was included as a public benefit. The two scenarios provide a range of values within which we expect the actual net benefits for the farm forestry projects. A summary of results is presented in Table 5.8. The initial analysis used a low discount rate of 3% and is a pretty rough attempt at predicting the net value of the benefits. However, if we discount at 6%, which is much more realistic, the bottom line gets fairly savagely reversed. However, I wouldn’t want people to put too much store in these numbers because there is a significant amount of work to do to refine how these benefits are assessed.

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Table 5.4: Option 2B – Costs, returns and employment value of 102 ha of hardwood and softwood plantations a) Costs by species estimated using Farm Forestry Toolbox (Warner 2007) Species

Area (ha)

Establishmenta ($/ha)

Managementb ($/ha)

Stumpagec ($/ha)

E. nitens

50

1745

2100

16 800

P. radiata

42

1645

2100

20 200

C. macrocarpa

10

1845

2100

22 000

a: Variation in establishment costs is due to differences in plant costs. b: Average pruning costs are $600 @ 400 stems/ha and three pruning visits required. c: Assumes (1) $70/m3 royalty for E. nitens veneer logs and site productivity of 19 m3/ha/yr, (2) current royalties apply with a 10% premium for C. macrocarpa, (3) all species are thinned at 12 years and harvested at 35 years, (4) plantations are managed to maximise clear-wood log production.

b) Stumpage by species Stumpage ($) Species

Area (ha)

Clear-wood

Other wood

Total

E. nitens

50

605 500

234 500

840 000

P. radiata

42

565 000

283 000

848 000

C. macrocarpa

10

148 000

74 000

222 000

102

1 318 500

591 500

1 910 000

Total

c) Total costs, employment and product value of plantations Activity Plantation establishment Management (pruning)

Cost ($)

%

174 790

Employment (man-years)

2

1

252 000

3

1

Harvesting and transport

1 138 000

14

8

Stumpage

1 483 210

18

Export woodchips (fob)

2 515 201

31

?

Primary manufacturing

5 577 000

69

?

Gross product valuea

8 092 201

100

a: The average annual value of the gross product value is $231 200 per year over 35 years.

Table 5.5: Option 2C – Costs, returns and employment for establishment of 103 ha of pasture for beef or lamb enterprise Activity

Cost ($)

Pasture establishment (land preparation and sowing pasture)

82 400

Beef production value (farm gate) a Fat lamb enterprise (farm gate) b

Gross return ($/year)

Employment (man-years) 0.5

$60 000

0.25

$126 000

0.25

a: Beef and fat lamb enterprises are based on 32 year production. Beef production = 170 beef cows breeding 150 calves worth $400 each. b: Fat lamb production is based on 17 DSE/ha = 9.44 ewes × 130% lambing = 12/72 lambs/ha × $100 per lamb.

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Table 5.6: Option 2D – The value of environmental services from retaining 71 ha of native forest Services

Value range ($/ha/yr)

Biodiversity Salinity and water quality Watertable control Landscape Crop and livestock shelter Fodder Riparian zone

Assigned valuea ($/ha/yr)

22

3

10–85

10

9

0

8–23

8

14–21

14

3–10

3

2

2

Total

40

Total for plantation (102 ha)and retained native forest (7 ha)

$6920

Source: Bauer et al. (2003) a: Assigned values are preliminary estimates for this case study and require confirmation. Carbon sequestration is excluded pending introduction of trading mechanisms.

Table 5.7: Triple bottom line assessment of forest conversion and management over 35 years showing a net return to the grower of $1 910 000, 10 man-years employment, $13 071 000 worth of manufactured wood products and estimated environmental services valued at $245 000 Nominal year

Cost

1–3 (native forest harvest and transport)

$1 285 436

1–3 (native forest roading and management)

$388 472

3–5 (plantation establishment)

$174 790

5–9 (plantation management)

Stumpage (return to Community value Processed wood product grower after cost) (employment & ES) value (ex saw/pulpmill) $752 544

$252 000

10 man-years

$5 042 720 (export and domestic value)

1 man-year

N/A

1 man-year

N/A

35 (plantation harvests)

$1 138 000

$1 910 000

8 man-years

$8 092 201

Total (to nearest $1000)

$3 239 000

$2 663 000

20 man-years

$13 135 000

3–35 (beef production)

$1 920 000

8 man-years

3–35 (fat lamb production) a

$4 288 000

3–35 (environmental services) b

($245 000)

a: Could replace beef production. b: Environmental services are indicative and unrealised. The native forest harvesting costs and returns are one-off, but the plantation and grazing enterprises are expected to be ongoing. Timber products calculated by Farm Forestry Tool Box (Warner 2007), environmental values estimated from Freeman and Dumsday (2003).

Table 5.8: Summary of benefit–cost analyses of private and public benefits of a 6 ha case study expressed as net present value assuming two discount rates a) Timber values discounted at 3% Area (ha)

Net private benefits ($NPV)

6.0

Net public benefits ($NPV)

15 202

–1197

Total benefits ($NPV) 14 005

b) Timber value discounted at 6%, carbon sequestration included Area (ha)

Net private benefits ($NPV)

6.0

Net public benefits ($NPV)

–11 378

8803

Total benefits ($NPV) –2575

Source: Freeman and Dumsday (2003)

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Balancing the three-legged stool

THE THIRD LEG OF THE STOOL If you are wondering what this case study has to do with biodiversity, the purpose is to outline the decisions that our family business made in an attempt to achieve a balance in our ‘threelegged stool’, a balance of economic, social and environmental outcomes. Our decisions were largely driven by a desire to maintain a viable business and to do it sustainably from a social and environmental perspective. We also needed to determine what the environmental issues and values were on our farms. We could then attempt to prioritise the various issues and tasks, as it is most unlikely that resources would be available from within the business or from external sources to tackle them all at once. Our first attempt was in 1995 when we developed our first Whole Farm Plan, now called Property Management Plans. Because our farms are situated in the North Esk River catchment, water quality has always been top of the list. Many of Launceston’s city residents draw their water supply from this catchment and, as elsewhere, water supply is a key environmental service over which Tasmania is having a natural resources debate. Fencing-out watercourses is expensive and in our case was achieved largely because of the income generated from our forestry operations plus two Natural Heritage Trust grants. The Musselboro Creek riparian area has been fenced off for 95% of its length within our boundaries and about 5000 blackwood trees (Acacia melanoxylon) and other native species have been planted. These plantings have only been moderately successful because of browsing by wildlife already living in the riparian zone. Water quality is now, however, assured. A benefit–cost analysis was undertaken for a 6 ha sample of the Musselboro Creek stream-side protection area, in relation to fencing-off stream-side land for the exclusion of grazing and protection of riparian habitat (see Table 5.8). Dealing with biodiversity issues is not always easy. Keeping some wildlife species at manageable population levels is an ongoing challenge. The issue of using 1080 poison is a contentious one in our community and other methods of control such as fencing are used, with varying degrees of success. Fences require constant maintenance and are expensive. Although there is an electric wire close to the back of the fence, wombats continually come underneath and allow access for other problem animals. Some of our special species, e.g. Cuppressus macrocarpa, have been killed through destruction by deer. The fence along the back boundaries cost us $7000/km, so it is not always easy.

CASE STUDY SUMMARY Option 1 would have resulted in reservation of the native forest with the landowner receiving a $61 500 one-off payment. Table 5.6 shows the potential value per hectare for environmental services if they could be realised in the 205 ha of forest. Option 2 provides increased farm income, agricultural diversification, substantial financial transactions in the agricultural and forest industries, adding value and export opportunities, employment and unrealised environmental services. The estimated values flowing from the forest enterprise during the first 35 years are shown in Table 5.7. The native forest harvesting costs and returns are one-off, but the plantation and grazing enterprises are expected to be ongoing. Every 35 years the plantation enterprise would provide stumpages of about $1 910 000, about 10 man-years employment and over $8 million worth of

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Biodiversity: Integrating Conservation and Production

manufactured wood products (in addition to the one-off $5 million wood value of the initial native forest harvest).

THE FUTURE Farmers manage over 60% of Australia’s arable land. The average return on capital for agricultural enterprise is about 2%. Farmers who invested in the late 1990s or early 2000s collectively spent something like $3.3 billion of their own resources on natural resources management (ABARE 2005). I would argue that governments need to adopt policies that recognise this contribution. Stewardship agreements that develop trust and deliver a positive outcome over the long term need to be expanded. Simply locking up the land or forest and leaving it is not the solution. The goodwill of land managers needs to be nurtured through common-sense policies and we need to develop partnerships with scientists so that we can better manage our rural environments. The message is that we need new tools and truly effective and practical policies to help us carefully manage our environment at the same time as getting on with our farming businesses. The management tools and policies that we have been using haven’t been sufficient to continue the task in perpetuity. I wouldn’t say they haven’t been successful but, in terms of ecological and environmental sustainability, they haven’t been sufficient. Many rural landholders and farmers recognise this more than others in the community may realise. They want to be encouraged to do something positive and effective about it, as well as being able to succeed in their core business of making a reasonable livelihood and contributing substantially to the social fabric of rural communities and to rural and national economies.

REFERENCES ABARE (2005). Natural resource management on Australian farms 2004–05. Report 06.12, Canberra. Bauer M, Kirchner A, Humphreys J, van Bueren M & Gordon J (2003). Evaluation of the Agroforestry and Farm Forestry Program: an assessment of benefits – stage 2. Publication No. 03/042, Rural Industries Research & Development Corporation: Canberra. Freeman B & Dumsday R (2003). Evaluation of environmental services provided by farm forestry: a discussion paper. URS Australia: Sydney. Warner A (2007). Farm Forestry Toolbox Version 5.0. Helping Australian growers to manage their trees. Report for the RIRDC/L&WA/FWPRDC Joint Venture Agroforestry Program. RIRDC Publication No. 07/135. RIRDC: Canberra.

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6 Farming from first principles David Marsh

O

ur family is like many other farming families. We farm 800 ha at Boorowa in the south-west slopes of New South Wales. Our long-term average rainfall is 625 mm, but over the last five years of drought, we have received only 30–50% of that average. Since 1999, we’ve changed the way we manage land. We used to see ourselves as livestock and cropping farmers, but now we see ourselves as managing sunlight, plants and time. Our aim is to produce a profit from plants and animals in a way that gives us time for recreation and habitat for flora and fauna. We now see the landscape that we’re trying to manage in ecological terms as a complex grassy woodland and we monitor our management as we move towards a future landscape based on our understanding of a few basic principles.

FARMING SUNLIGHT NATURAL CAPITAL The first principle is that natural capital is really the only true form of wealth. Everything that almost every lifeform on earth does is linked to photosynthesis, and the natural inclination of all communities of organisms is to proliferate and diversify. This has been so for 3.5 billion years of life on Earth, and something we decided we needed to recognise and incorporate in our farming. The natural capital in the original vegetation has been converted into other forms of capital (fences, machinery, labour, roads, housing, schools, institutions); in other words, into all the benefits we enjoy as a complex society in the 21st century. However, we have mostly called the benefit of this conversion ‘income’ when it is, in fact, a capital liquidation. Reduction

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in capital in a business cannot be sustained without more investment or the business will cease to exist. Similarly, liquidating too much natural capital in the landscape cannot be sustained without injections of biological capital. It has been estimated that soil organic carbon stores have been depleted by as much as 75% in the last 200 years (Clarke et al. 1967; Dalal 1982; Dalal & Chan 2001; Geeves et al. 1995; Valzano et al. 2005). Current farming practice will not restore this important resource. Only a change in management will deliver the necessary change. HARVEST INTEREST, NOT CAPITAL The second principle is that natural ecosystems are self-organising and self-repairing entities expending about 30% of the energy they get from the sun just maintaining their structure and diversity. We have been incredibly successful at diverting the products of photosynthesis into our mouths and our pockets. This is what has enabled the human population to grow to its current size. But we’ve been harvesting the 30% of energy that the landscape and ecosystems need to maintain their structure and diversity to the point where the landscape has become simplified and can no longer support its structure, its diversity and some of its processes. MATCH DISTURBANCE TO CAPACITY The third principle is matching disturbance regimes to the capacity of the country. We can see the consequences of simplifying landscapes all around us. They are dominated by early successional plants, mainly annuals, replacing the perennial systems which dominated in the past. As the Australian landmass drifted north after breaking from Gondwana approximately 50 million years ago, the vegetation altered as the climate became drier. The native perennial grasses evolved with wild herbivores, some still present and some extinct. Much of the indigenous vegetation is fire-resistant and/or fire-dependent. Following the Robertson land acts in the 1860s fences began appearing in the landscape. The previous herding of animals was abandoned, with animals being generally set stocked. Perennial native grasses did not survive long under constant stocking and were quickly replaced with exotic annuals. Set stocking causes a simplification of the vegetative community until only early-successional species (taprooted forbs and annual grasses) remain. Plants that are constantly stocked and defoliated have small root systems. They have a diminished capacity to intercept available sunlight; over time the larger root mass of previous perennials is broken down biologically, leading to lower soil organic carbon and lower water-holding capacity. The simplified community itself will support a diminished biota. The soil-dwelling biota, up to 10 times the aboveground biomass, are opportunistic and respond to a food source when conditions are favourable. Keeping landscapes in the very early stages of succession costs a lot of money because the natural inclination of the living community is to proliferate and diversify. Cropping areas are kept in a very simplified state and provided with inputs of inorganic nutrients (and other services that more complex ecosystems supply for themselves) that enhance growth, and the product of the harvest of sunlight is diverted to the human species’ use. Running simplified systems can produce high yields. But the ongoing capital costs are high and will increase as fuel prices continue to rise. There is, however, a difference between yield and production. We hear people talking about how we’ve got to increase production. In fact what we are saying is we’re increasing the yield from the landscape, while the total production from the landscape, i.e. the respiration of everything living, is actually diminishing. A wheat crop or an oat crop is a highyielding landscape, but a low-productivity landscape in terms of ecology. 56

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The good news is that landscapes can bounce back very quickly if we change what we do – it’s changing ourselves that’s the problem. Natural processes take time to do their work and human timeframes are always far too short for many of the processes in the natural world. If we can just manage differently and allow the plant communities to do what they want to do – to grow – then we can have some very low-cost, low-risk and profitable results. They can also deliver some benefits to biodiversity. Approximately 85% of the agricultural land in Australia is grazed. The current run of dry years has shown what a bare landscape can be produced by conventional management. These landscape results are the product of thinking about the human/land relationship only in terms of economics. When we do this, we almost always ignore or defer the costs our actions impose on the functioning of the ecosystem. In contrast, people who are making holistic decisions are learning how to match their stocking rate to the carrying capacity of their farms. This delivers a landscape that, even in drought, has an appropriate number of animals for the conditions, a landscape that has groundcover intact and an economic result that has not plunged them further into debt by high feeding costs. Agricultural research has been very effective at increasing the size of the ‘pump’ with which to increase yield (more fertilisers, especially nitrogen, a large array of herbicides and insecticides, expensive seed supplies, more and more expensive machinery). However, the ‘well’ which supplies the pump diminishes in size through negative effects on biota, loss of organic carbon, lower water-holding capacity in our soils, eutrophication of waterways and perhaps groundwater, weed resistance etc. The difference is made up by high injections of capital each year, which increases the riskiness of these systems. The high-intensity agricultural industries (irrigation, intensive poultry, pigs and feedlots) cannot exist without huge subsidies of energy. They’re very high-yielding but they’re very energy-inefficient. Intensive animal production systems where large amounts of grain are fed to animals are very high-yielding – that’s why they exist – but they are very energy-inefficient.

HOW CAN WE DO BETTER? The approach we use for our decision-making is based on Savory’s holistic management framework (Savory & Butterfield 1999). This process of decision-making focuses on a future landscape goal towards which all our decisions are made. This goal has three dimensions: quality of life, forms of production and future resource base. We started by asking ourselves how we want to live, based on our values. What are the things that we need to produce to allow us to live like that, and what landscape will support those activities into the future without knocking it around? In other words, we describe how the landscape must look in the distant future. This mode of decision-making can deliver results that are simultaneously socially, environmentally and economically sound. We analysed our enterprises to see if they were delivering the landscape results we wanted for our landscape goal. Our cropping enterprise could not deliver our desire for 100% groundcover, so we looked at the financial performance of the crop enterprise. When compared with the livestock, the crop enterprise was covering a lower percentage of our overheads in relation to costs. We also found the crop enterprise quite stressful, with a lot of capital invested annually against an uncertain return due to variable weather and markets. So from a social, economic and environmental perspective our cropping enterprise was not matching what we said we wanted the landscape to be in the future. Using this process, we made the decision to phase out cropping. 57

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To provide the extra infrastructure for our grazing enterprise we diverted the capital from machinery and the annual fertiliser and chemical budgets, to water development and subdivision. In three years these once-annual expenditures paid for the fencing and water development which are once-only expenses that now give ongoing benefits for no annual cost. The farm now runs on solar energy with no purchased inputs. We buy electricity and diesel to move ourselves around and indirectly to bring in livestock and send stock and wool to market. We may use inorganic fertiliser again, but we don’t feel like we need to while we’re growing more pasture than we have animals for. You can change the yield by adding lots of purchased inputs, but often in grazing systems it is the amount of time that animals have access to plants, rather than the number of animals, that limits production of biomass. The French farmer and scientist, André Voisin (1959), showed that allowing grazed pasture plants adequate time to recover meant that the biomass produced in a season could be two to three times that produced by a constantly grazed pasture. Since 1999 we have developed an approach we call Planned Grazing. The four buildingblocks of sustainable ecosystems that we are trying to improve through this approach are the water cycle, the mineral cycle, the flow of energy and community dynamics. The approach favours perennial grasses and allows them to establish and to recover their energy stores after grazing by converting sunlight into large plant structures. It allows for the natural process of succession and delivers more diverse communities that can be self-sustaining, resilient and productive. Importantly, this can happen with very low capital inputs and little ongoing maintenance. Using this approach, paddocks on our farm are grazed for only 6–10 days per year. Grazing can involve up to three visits to a paddock, each followed by a recovery period of varying length to allow perennial grass plants to replenish their reserves and for seedlings to establish. In the growing season, the length of recovery is related to how long a plant needs to recover from grazing, depending on the seasonal growth rate at the time of grazing. The rule of thumb is that when growth is slow plants need longer to recover, and when growth is fast less time is needed for recovery. The principle is that perennials will be damaged if stock stay long enough to graze regrowth when growth is fast. Similarly, plants will be damaged if animals return too soon when growth is slow. In the dormant season, each paddock has a feed budget that is rationed out. We plan each year for a dormant season of 150–180 days then add a further two months in case the autumn break is late. So, we plan for a drought every year. We know at the beginning of the dormant season how many grazing days are available on the farm and, dividing this by the number of days we are planning for, can see how many stock we can carry through. This means that if we have too many stock we can reduce numbers months before anyone else, usually when prices are good. The earlier stock reductions are made, the longer time we get from the existing pasture. This mostly avoids the costs of land degradation and feeding (Figure 6.1). We have also learned about stress-free livestock handling, which has made handling our stock more of a pleasure, improved our health and safety and had production benefits. Our objectives with planned grazing are plant diversity and complete groundcover which in turn results in a more effective water cycle. As a consequence we have more soil organisms, the basis and energy of agriculture and ecosystems, and, by providing the time our plant communities need to grow and restore themselves, we’ll be able to harvest more sunlight which is a positive feedback for all the other systems. In any growing season, we plan all stock moves depending on pasture growth rates. This allows us to see at least four months ahead all the time. If the season is starting to tighten up or paddocks have less cover than we want, we start reducing numbers. For example, when a fire

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Farming from first principles

(a)

(b)

Figure 6.1: Available feed under set stocking with inorganic fertiliser (right) and planned grazing without inorganic fertiliser (left) on adjacent properties in (a) September 2005, 80 days after grazing and (b) November 2005, 140 days after grazing

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Biodiversity: Integrating Conservation and Production

Figure 6.2: Varying stock numbers in response to rainfall on Allendale in 2006

hit in January 2006 and destroyed a third of our grazing area, we had the equivalent of 8000 sheep. We immediately reduced this to just over 2000. By so doing we generated income – we shore sheep as we were selling them. We didn’t compromise the landscape and now our place has a lot of feed, we’ve been able to restock with animals purchased extremely cheaply due to

(a)

100

%

80 60

2002

40

2003

20

2004

0 Bare soil

Litter 1

Litter 2

Rock

Plant base

10 8 6 (cm)

(b)

Distance to perennial

Soil surface

4 2 0 1 2002

2 2003 Year

2004 3 Avg dist. to nearest cm

Figure 6.3: Monitoring of a pasture site at Allendale has shown (a) a reduction in bare soil and increased litter and (b) decreasing distance between perennial plants over time in response to planned grazing

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Farming from first principles

the drought and these stock have generated good profits. This approach gave us a lot of flexibility (Figure 6.2). Our aim is increasing perenniality, increasing age structure, stable riparian areas and flora and fauna habitat, all of which are fundamental to the way the landscape functions. Since 1999 our management has allowed the area of native grass pastures to increase from 1 ha to over 50 ha. The native pastures have conservative water use characteristics and require no inputs, and the range of species can take advantage of rainfall at any time of year. Although the area is modest so far, it is a 5000% increase from our starting-point only nine years ago. Results of monitoring show that bare ground reduced from 30% in 2002 to zero in 2003. This has been maintained, and the distance between perennial grass plants has decreased (Figure 6.3). Planned grazing using this holistic approach is resulting in landscapes with a balance of vegetation types. It has even been possible to allow trees to regenerate with very low capital inputs, with woody vegetation on Allendale increasing from approximately 3% to almost 20% over the last 30 years (Figure 6.4). We have identified over 118 species of birds, including many declining woodland species, and the list of new species keeps expanding. This increase in species richness is an indication that we are heading in the right direction. Another possible strategy to achieve this landscape is pasture cropping (Seis 2007). This involves sowing annual crops into native perennial pastures. Nothing has to die for this system to work. It’s a low-cost, low-risk, relatively low-yielding but profitable way of cropping.

Figure 6.4: The grazing regime on Allendale has enabled natural regeneration of eucalypt species

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Biodiversity: Integrating Conservation and Production

CONCLUSION While agriculture has been able to deliver some impressive increases in yield, the use of highenergy subsidies (oil, electricity, machinery, inorganic fertilisers) has led to more simplified communities of organisms in agro-ecosystems. We have agricultural systems that are totally reliant on a lot of purchased inputs. Low-tillage and no-till farming and cover cropping has the potential to stabilise the trend of carbon loss from Australian soils. Systems such as planned grazing and pasture cropping are low-cost, low-risk strategies that have the potential to provide a profit at low risk while increasing diversity in the grassland. Working out the management of these systems requires an open mind and a willingness to change. Different approaches to decision-making, so that the needs of the ecosystem are always considered in every decision, can support grazing businesses that are low-cost and low-risk and have the potential to match the stocking rate to the carrying capacity of the landscape at all times. Trying to run set numbers of animals per unit area in a very variable climate seems risky. Over the last five years of low annual rainfall, we have tried to implement this planned grazing process. Because we have been able to match stocking rate to carrying capacity we have not had to do any hand feeding of stock. This has meant our costs have been low, debt has not been increased and we have felt good about the way our landscape is looking. Striking a balance between conservation and production is an investment in the landscapes of which our grandchildren will be a part.

REFERENCES Clarke AL, Greenland DJ & Quirk JP (1967). Changes in some physical properties of the surface of an impoverished red-brown earth under pasture. Australian Journal of Soil Research 5, 59–68. Dalal RC (1982). Changes in soil properties under continuous cropping. In Queensland Wheat Research Institute biennial report 1980–82, pp. 58–60. Dalal RC & Chan KY (2001). Soil organic matter in rainfed cropping systems of the Australian cereal belt. Australian Journal of Soil Research 39, 435–464. Geeves GW, Cresswell HP, Murphy BW, Gessler PE, Chartres CJ, Little IP & Bowman GM (1995). The physical, chemical and morphological properties of soils in the wheat-belt of southern NSW and northern Victoria. CSIRO Division of Soils/Dept of Conservation and Land Management NSW: Canberra. Seis C (2007). Stipa conference, Mudgee. Stipa Conference Proceedings. Savory A & Butterfield J (1999). Holistic management. Island Press: Washington DC. Valzano F, Murphy B & Koen T (2005). The impact of tillage on changes in soil carbon density with special emphasis on Australian conditions. Technical report 43, National Carbon Accounting System. Australian Greenhouse Office/Dept of Infrastructure, Planning and Natural Resources NSW: Sydney. Voisin A (1959). Grass productivity. Island Press: Washington DC. Reprinted 1988.

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7 Environmental restoration as a precursor to production gains John and Robyn Ive

‘Talaheni’ is a 245 ha property located in the Yass Valley, NSW (34.96°S, 149.17°E, 644 m elevation). The property was heavily cleared in the late 1800s for grazing purposes, primarily for sheep. Currently, the main activity is ultra-fine wool production from a self-replacing Saxon merino flock, feedlot cattle from a commercial Angus herd and timber from a small farm forestry operation. The Yass Valley is one of the most saline-affected areas in NSW (Langtry 1999); 27 years ago, saline seeps occupied 23% of Talaheni and extensive soil erosion was common (Oliver 2006). Near-treeless hills with shallow skeletal soils provided high recharge, leading to dryland salinity on the more productive adjacent flats with their deeper soils. Soil acidity (down to pHCaCl2 3.6) further limited vegetation vigour and cover, and hampered remedial measures. Collectively, salinity and acidity posed a severe threat to the remaining native vegetation (Anon 1974, 2005) which consisted of moribund red stringybark (Eucalyptus macrorhyncha) and red box (E. polyanthemos) mainly as paddock isolates but including some woodland remnants which were also in decline. Native perennial pastures consisted mainly of Austrodanthonia spp. and Microlaena stipoides which had been augmented with introduced subterranean clover (Trifolium subterraneum). It was against this setting that significant targeted revegetation occurred using a number of approaches, from woodlots of selected commercial species to multispecies landcare plantings, shelterbelts and actively induced regeneration. Revegetation objectives are part of an integrated farm management package designed to address the environmental challenges that impeded production objectives. In addressing the environmental challenges, biodiversity gains have been achieved at species, community and landscape scales.

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Table 7.1: Planting intentions of landholders (% of respondents) undertaking tree planting WSZa (%)

HRZb (%)

Land rehabilitation or protection

29

12

21

Shelter and shade

55

81

68

Native vegetation and wildlife conservation

3

1

2

Sawlog production

0

1

1

Pulpwood production

1

0

1

Non-wood production

1

0

1

Planting intention

Australia (%)

Other/unknown wood production

0

0

0

Fodder production

3

0

2

Other purposes

7

3

5

a: Wheat-sheep zone b: High rainfall zone Source: Wilson et al. (1995)

REVEGETATION OBJECTIVES Extent and quality of native vegetation are recognised as central to increasing biodiversity. However, few landholders undertake revegetation activity with the prime intention of increasing biodiversity (Table 7.1). Fortunately, revegetation often has multiple benefits including some other than the prime objective. This was the case with revegetation on Talaheni. No revegetation or vegetation management was undertaken on the property primarily or solely for biodiversity purposes. Rather, the objective was to maximise the range and extent of environmental and production benefits by addressing strategic long-term environmental problems, including real benefits measured in terms of production gains and added biodiversity (Tables 7.2 and 7.3).

BIODIVERSITY Managed revegetation (Table 7.3) has greatly increased the diversity of vegetation in the landscape by creating a broad mosaic of vegetation types (Figure 7.1). Transects of each vegetation type were monitored to quantify the biodiversity benefits flowing from revegetation measures over the past 27 years, and the biodiversity benefits along with the concurrent production benefits. The discussion that follows focuses primarily on a hilltop eucalypt woodlot (Table 7.3, Type 3) and adjoining native pasture (Type 7), selected due to the monitoring detail in available records, with occasional reference to other vegetation types. HABITAT CONDITION Vegetation introduced and managed on Talaheni covers a wide range of habitat type and condition. The hardwood woodlot and adjoining grazed paddock (Types 3 and 7) were assessed using the Habitat Hectares method for evaluating habitat condition (Parkes et al. 2003). This method provides a relative score against an established benchmark defined for each relevant vegetation type and is derived from scores for different attributes (canopy, understorey, groundcover etc.). Maximum scores imply optimal habitat condition. For simplicity, only on-site components with a maximum possible aggregate score of 75 are included in Table 7.4, to highlight the effect of contrasting vegetation and land use on these 64

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Environmental restoration as a precursor to production gains

Table 7.2: Environmental and production values monitored on Talaheni to establish direct and indirect benefits from revegetation and vegetation management Value

Monitoring

Environmental values Habitat value

Habitat hectare assessment every 3–5 years (after Parkes et al. 2003)

Plant and animal diversity – plants

Plant identification and counts along established transects in spring

– birds

Periodic and routine identification of bird species in established quadrants in different vegetation types, usually spring

– reptiles

Identification by opportunistic observation

– mammals

Identification by opportunistic observation

– microorganisms

Periodic identification of functional group activity

Dryland salinity

Weekly measurement of water table level and monthly measurement of Ec from network of piezometers, yearly measurement of salinity level in farm dams

Carbon sequestration

Periodic calculation using web-based calculator

Shade and shelter

Microclimate measurement of temperature and windspeed at selected periods, e.g. lambing, in one-off studies repeated at indefinite intervals

Soil acidity

Measurement of soil acidity as part of standard soil tests in spring almost annually

Production values Carrying capacity

Dry sheep equivalents calculated throughout year as stock numbers change through natural increase and sales

Beef production

Weaning weight adjusted for sex, dam age, birth and weaning date, derived annually at weaning

Wool production

Clean fleece weight and mean fibre diameter after annual shearing

Timber

Cubic metres milled at each milling

Ec = electrical conductivity Source: Ive (2004)

two sites. Off-site attributes such as connectivity and extent of surrounding vegetation cover in the landscape are common to both assessed areas. The woodlot has the higher aggregate score for habitat condition and hence biodiversity potential though, not surprisingly, neither area approaches the maximum score possible (Table 7.4). The significant feature of the woodlot is the lack of weeds, translating to a high score compared to the grazed native pasture. The most telling component for the relatively low scores, even for the woodlot, is the lack of understorey, a feature inherent in woodlot design. In this two-species woodlot, no understorey species were planted and although there was some limited natural regeneration of a native acacia species (Acacia genistifolia) this pioneer species declined with canopy closure. A number of large trees were retained in the grazed paddock; in recent times there had been some recruitment but the woodlot area had been totally cleared. Subsequent woodlot plantings on other parts of the property have included a range of genera (Acacia, Allocasuarina, Eucalyptus) to ensure greater structural and floristic diversity. In time, this should result in higher scores for habitat condition. PLANTS Flora and fauna species are essential components of biodiversity and are readily assessed using a variety of standard field techniques. Native plant species were monitored on transects through woodlots, remnants, corridor and landcare plantings, and compared to adjoining grazed areas. A total of 85 native plant species comprising shrubs, forbs, grasses, rushes, sedges 65

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Table 7.3: Vegetation types on Talaheni showing age, area, stocking rate and management regime Type no. Period

Area (ha) DSE/haa Description and management

1

1982–2000

39.25

0

Remnant vegetation – progressively fenced to exclude domestic stock as part of a program to re-fence according to landform, major species and growth determinants (e.g. slope, aspect, soil type) for ease of management. Only one original fenceline remains, indicating the extent to which the chequerboard layout has given way to a mosaic based on natural features.

2

1985–2006

6.50

0

Corridor plantings of native species – a 6 km network linking fenced remnants comprising 40% upper storey (Allocasuarina, Eucalyptus spp.), 60% understorey (Acacia, Banksia, Callistemon, Hakea, Leptospermum, Melaleuca spp.) established from tubestock.

3

1989

3.88

0

Woodlot on hilltop recharge area – comprising E. polyanthemos (90%) and E. sideroxylon (10%) at 1200 stems/ha with 97% survival.

4

1982–2007

48.57

2

Managed regeneration of ridgetops – achieved by seed dispersal from remaining ageing trees promoted by heavy grazing during drought to reduce competition and spelling for long periods after the break of drought (Ive 2007).

5

1996–2004

1.13

0

Enhanced natural regeneration – establishing Acacia spp. in regenerated areas that frequently form a monoculture of eucalyptus species, particularly E. macrorhyncha, so that there is at least one Acacia spp. flowering at any one time.

6

2002–2005

1.12

2

Revegetated ridgetops – tubestock plantings of Acacia, Allocasuarina and Eucalyptus spp. selected for their high-quality timber characteristics on ridges devoid of trees and hence a seed source.

7

1980–2007

103.70

7

Native pastures – managed with limited application of sulphurenriched reactive rock phosphate fertiliser to provide slow protracted release of plant nutrients under conditions of high soil acidity.

8

2002–2005

39.60

16

Reclaimed saline land – sown to introduced perennial pastures (phalaris, fescue, cocksfoot, plantain, chicory and clovers) in the absence of a native perennial pasture seedbank to kick-start pasture re-establishment and further lower groundwater.

9

1985–2002

0.05

0

Protected paddock trees – vermin-proof fencing beyond the drip line of large individual paddock trees suffering from sheep-camp nutrient enrichment plus establishment of understorey species (Acacia, Grevillea spp.). Individual trees germinating in paddocks with little if any trees have been protected by barbed-wire enclosures to exclude grazing and browsing.

10

1999

0.75

0

Break-of-slope planting – using mixtures of Acacia, Eucalyptus and Hakea spp. designed to intercept subsurface groundwater moving downslope, provide shelterbelt protection to stock and act as corrridors.

11

c. 1975

0.45

0

Pine plantation – Pinus radiata inherited at purchase and, although not native, providing additional vegetation diversity in the landscape and unique biodiversity opportunities.

12

Unknown

0.53

0

Roadside vegetation – representing additional diversity, particularly of native forbs, that is neither grazed nor fertilised but is periodically burnt.

a: DSE/ha indicative stocking rate in dry sheep equivalents under average seasonal conditions.

and understorey were identified in transects across all vegetation types (Table 7.3). Comparative results for the woodlot and adjoining paddock (from which the woodlot was fenced in 1988) are shown in Table 7.5. A total of 46 plant species were recorded in the woodlot compared to 66

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N

Native perennial pasture and annual legume Native remnant Woodlot: mixed native hardwoods Corridor: native canopy and understorey Perennial grass pasture with legume Perennial grass clover & forbs pasture Tracks etc. Scale:

200M

Figure 7.1: Paddock plan of Talaheni showing some of the different vegetation types with fencelines based on soil and landscape characteristics to aid management of environmental and production values

only 36 in the grazed paddock. Of 29 shrubs and forbs (S/F) recorded in the two areas, 25 occurred only in the woodlot while all three rushes and sedges (R/S) and nine of the 12 grass (G) species were found only in the woodlot. In contrast, only one forb species was recorded in the grazed paddock but not in the woodlot. These results confirm that at the time of observation (November 1999) the woodlot was significantly adding to plant diversity by hosting several native species and some lifeforms that were not recorded in the grazed area. However, following canopy closure from 2001 to 2005, native plants are largely limited to the buffer area surrounding the woodlot. 67

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Table 7.4: Habitat condition scores using the on-site components of the Habitat Hectares assessment method in woodlot and adjoining grazed native pasture on Talaheni Maximum possible score

Woodlot (Table 7.3, Type 3)

Grazed paddock (Table 7.3, Type 7)

10

1

5

5

5

1

25

5

3

Weediness

15

12

5

Recruitment

10

2

5

Organic litter

5

5

1

Logs

5

0

2

75

30

22

Habitat attribute Large trees Canopy tree cover Understorey

Aggregate score

Of further comparative interest, a nearby ungrazed pine woodlot (Table 7.3, Type 11) yielded 27 plant species, three of which were unique to the area. A fenced remnant (Type 1) yielded 38 plant species, two of which were not recorded elsewhere. The nearby ungrazed but occasionally burnt road verge (Type 12) hosted 43 species, eight of which were not recorded elsewhere. Red box, whether in remnants (Type 1), woodlot (Type 3) or as paddock trees (Type 7), host box mistletoe (Amyema miquelii), particularly on sheltered slopes with a north-east aspect receiving the sun’s first warming rays in winter. Several bird species are attracted to trees hosting mistletoe during flowering, including mistletoebird (Dicaeum hirundinaceum). ANIMALS Standardised bird surveys showed differences in bird species using the woodlot (Type 3) and adjoining grazed native pasture (Type 7). Results of one 20 minute survey (November 2003) are presented in Table 7.6. Of the 14 species recorded across the two vegetation types only three were common to both sites, indicating that the woodlot had different habitat conditions from the adjoining grazed area, which includes some regrowth woody vegetation. The four species found only in the woodlot were brown thornbill (Acanthiza pusilla), yellow-rumped thornbill (Acanthiza chrysorrhoa), superb fairy-wren (Malurus cyaneus) and grey fantail (Rhipidura fuliginosa). Although not uncommon in the region (Taws 2007), these species are typical of Table 7.5: Native plant species by functional group recorded in woodlot and adjacent grazed native pasture on Talaheni Grazed paddock (Table 7.3, Type 7)

Functional group

Paddock

Species status

Present (36)

Woodlot (Table 7.3, Type 3)

Present (46)

S/F G R/S U

25 9 0 1

Absent (11) 4 3 3 1

Absent (1)

S/F G R/S U

1 0 0 0

N/A

S/F = shrubs and forbs; G = grasses; R/S = rushes and sedges; U = understorey

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Table 7.6: Number of bird species found during 20 minute bird surveys in spring 2003 in two adjoining paddocks with different vegetation types Grazed paddock (Type 7) Paddock

Species status

Present (10)

Woodlot (Type 3)

Present (7)

3

Absent (4) 4

Absent (7)

7

N/A

insectivorous woodland birds that declined after previous clearing but are early colonisers of revegetated areas. As they were not found on the adjoining grazed area, they complement the species in other areas, adding to the diversity of birds in the landscape. The dynamics of opportunistic refuge-seeking were experienced after the 2003 bushfires which devastated nearby pine plantations in the Australian Capital Territory (ACT). Sizeable flocks of gang-gang cockatoos (Callocephalon fimbriatum, the ACT bird emblem) and yellowtailed black cockatoos (Calyptorhynchus funereus) quickly took refuge in the cone-laden pine plantation (Type 11) at Talaheni, although neither species had previously been recorded there. Smaller flocks return regularly each year in late autumn. In essence, the exotic pine plantation immediately filled the void by being a stand-in refuge for at least some displaced native birds surviving the disastrous fires and in doing so added to the bird diversity at Talaheni. Over 120 different bird species have been observed at Talaheni over the years. Transects are maintained to monitor activity of major functional groups of microorganisms through microscope counts from a known volume of soil samples made after incubation (Table 7.7). The groups include plant feeders, saprophages, fungivores and predators, and parasitoids. Overall, the total level of micro-organism activity is low, possibly due to low surface pH (commonly 4.0–4.5) and dry conditions. The largest difference between the two vegetation types is the higher level of fungivore activity compared to predators and parasitoids in the pasture (Table 7.7). As species identification was not undertaken, it is not possible to establish whether the species profile of the micro-organisms differed between the two sites. No standard monitoring of reptiles has been undertaken, but opportunistic observation has noted an increase in the range and number of reptiles. Notable among these are the threatened olive legless lizard (Delma inornata) and locally top native predator and listed threatened species, Rosenberg’s monitor (Varanus rosenbergi), which was first sighted in 1988. A number of individuals are sighted regularly, confirmed by photography (using methods akin to whalespotting and identification). Intimidating confrontation between individual Rosenberg’s monitors and sulphur-crested cockatoos (Cacatua galerita), when monitors attempt to raid nesting hollows, are not uncommon and provide a spectacular contest of defensive and attacking combat behaviour. Table 7.7: Soil biological activity expressed as the mean number of soil micro-organisms found within four functional groups in 20 cm2 soil samples from woodlot and adjoining grazed native pasture Paddock

Plant feeders

Saprophages

Fungivores

Predators and parasitoids

Woodlot (Type 3)

0.0

3.0

1.0

1.0

Grazed paddock (Type 7)

0.5

2.5

46.5

4.5

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Sightings of larger reptiles include the bearded dragon (Pogona barbata), shingleback (Trachydosaurus rugosus), eastern blue-tongued lizard (Tiliqua scincoides), tiger snake (Notechis scutatus) and red-bellied black snake (Pseudechis porphyriacus). No standard monitoring of mammals has been undertaken, but opportunistic observation and scat identification have established the presence of sugar gliders (Petaurus breviceps) and brushtail possums (Trichosurus vulpecula) in addition to the ubiquitous eastern grey kangaroos (Macropus giganteus) and red-necked (Macropus rufogiseus) and swamp (Wallabia bicolor) wallabies. Echidnas (Tachyglossus aculeatus) and bats of unknown species are increasingly seen on Talaheni.

ECOSYSTEM FUNCTION Vegetation management at Talaheni (Table 7.3) has increased biodiversity at a number of levels. This is attributed to the additional complexity and diversity of habitat offered by the 12 different vegetation types. Their interactions offer a host of diverse habitat combinations that continue to suit and attract native species of plants, birds, mammals and reptiles. In the absence of any streams or natural water features on Talaheni, there are 38 dams, some of which have been stocked with native fish, for example golden perch (Macquaria ambigua) and silver perch (Bidyanus bidyanus). The dams also provide habitat for a number of frog species, yabbies (Cherax destructor) and long-necked tortoises (Chelodina longicollis). Limiting our attention to physically larger-sized examples of flora and fauna overlooks the vital role of the smaller but more numerous lifeforms including invertebrates (insects, spiders, scorpions etc.), fungi and non-vascular plants (lichens, mosses etc.). Large (up to 42 cm diameter) fruiting bodies of Phlebopus marginatus appear regularly from March in grazed native pasture paddocks (Type 7) and have been catalogued by the Australian Museum (Sydney). A study of the role of invertebrates and their dynamics in the health of vegetation remnants is underway at Talaheni (H. Gibb 2007, unpublished). Despite exceptionally dry conditions, the diversity of tree ants (Podomyrma spp.) exceeds expectations, a significant finding given ants are a recognised barometer of terrestrial landscape health (Majer 1983). The increasing presence of insectivorous woodland birds, particularly in remnants and woodlots, adds further evidence of the critical role these smaller organisms play in supporting the visually more obvious macrofauna and flora.

MANAGEMENT STRATEGIES Effective ongoing management is crucial to maintain and enhance the ecological and environmental benefits of the revegetation strategies undertaken (Table 7.3). Regular fox-baiting is undertaken prior to lambing as a precautionary measure. It also reduces predator pressure on small ground-dwelling mammals, reptiles and birds. Baiting is undertaken in woodland remnants, woodlots and corridor plantings on the perimeter of pastured lambing paddocks. These areas provide shelter for lambing but also conceal foxes. Post lamb-marking audits confirm that unidentified lambing losses are insignificant (indicating very low fox predation) and therefore, in all likelihood, low fox predation on wildlife. Talaheni participates in a regional

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Stocking rate (DSE/grazed ha)

kangaroo management plan supervised by National Parks and Wildlife Service (NSW) which permits 16% culling by registered qualified shooters who are funded by pelt and carcass returns from culled eastern grey kangaroos (Macropus giganteus). Regular rabbit control is undertaken by warren ripping, burrow fumigation, poison baiting and rabbit calicivirus baiting (Ive 2006), in addition to seasonal outbreaks of myxomatosis. Feral cats, although few, are trapped and confined bait stations are used to control rats and mice around sheds, grain silos and produce supplies. An interesting bonus of the farm forestry operation in red stringybark (E. macrorhyncha) was recent sightings of yellow-footed antechinus (Antechinus flavipes) in the numerous ‘bark tubes’, a byproduct of on-site debarking of thinnings for pole and railing production. This protective bonus contrasts with an unfortunate example where sugar gliders, bats and a range of birds have been caught on barbed wire in fences – ironically, barbed wire that was not purchased but was recycled from the original all-barbed wire fences. The realities of commercial agriculture are that more environmentally sensitive land use practices will only be undertaken on a broad scale if there are demonstrated production benefits or significant publicly supported stewardship payments, or both. In this case study, a major increase in production on a whole-farm scale has been recorded during active revegetation management (Figure 7.2). The vegetation management strategies described in Table 7.3 resulted in the withdrawal of 25% of the area of Talaheni from conventional agricultural production. Despite this, production expressed in terms of standardised carrying capacity (dry sheep equivalent, DSE) has continued to increase, although the severe 2006–07 drought necessitated a major reduction in

Year Figure 7.2: Increasing stock-carrying capacity for the grazed area of Talaheni since environmental restoration began in 1980, despite a 25% reduction of the grazed area due to revegetation, woodlots and other conservation activity

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stock. Similar positive trends have been recorded in the quality of the commodities produced, namely beef, wool and timber (Ive & Ive 2007). Specifically, not only has there been a steady rise in the total stock units carried on an ever-declining grazed proportion (Figure 7.2) but the quality of the commodities produced has improved, mainly due to addressing the productionlimiting environmental issues in this challenging and previously degraded landscape. The biggest threat to biodiversity values on Talaheni 27 years ago were the insidious impacts of increasing dryland salinity and soil acidity on native vegetation. Removal of native vegetation and reduction in biodiversity more than a century ago was the slow-burn catalyst for present dryland salinity and soil acidity. Without addressing these primary environmental issues, biodiversity would have continued to decline along with other environmental and production values. While the benefits illustrated in Tables 7.2–7.5 have certainly flowed from the revegetation program, it is not possible to partition or quantify production gains according to specific biodiversity benefits. Furthermore, the mounting evidence of increased climate variability and change (Anon 2006) poses additional and very different challenges for the future. Such challenges are likely to seriously affect our continuing achievement of production goals, further restoration of environmental values (Anon 2004) and the interactions between production and environmental values. All these are shown in this case study to be essential components of contemporary farm management.

DOING BETTER The history of Australian agriculture has been one of simplifying our landscapes, which has led to a number of processes that degrade the natural resource base upon which agriculture relies (Ive & Cocks 1988). As this study demonstrates, revegetation in its many forms (farm forestry, landcare strategies and corridor plantings etc.) offers an opportunity to increase the diversity in our agricultural landscapes while at the same time salvaging and enhancing production goals. Diversity at the gene, species, community and landscape scales is a significant contributor to increasing resilience and sustainability in agriculture. However, to deliver the proposed suite of benefits (e.g. Freeman & Dumsday 2003) we must consider revegetation in a different light. Classical economics decrees that revegetation efforts can be justified only when benefits deliver on-farm production gains, whether directly or indirectly, for the landholder and/or attract public assistance for off-farm benefits (Ive 2005a). However, there remains a general absence of time-proven response functions for investment in natural resource management strategies in agriculture (e.g. quantitative production responses to increased biodiversity). Landholders therefore remain reluctant to invest scarce resources in such strategies and issues where economic uncertainty remains, particularly in relation to the timing and magnitude of any proposed benefit stream (e.g. compare with expenditure on fertiliser use, pest management, shade and shelter). The lack of scientific endeavour to quantify fundamental response functions remains a serious impediment to broader private investment in natural resource management, particularly for improved biodiversity. Without demonstrated production response functions for biodiversity enhancement, the motivation for landholders to implement suitable revegetation programs directly for biodiversity purposes, or indeed as a principal strategy for improved land resource management, is unlikely to increase significantly above the current low levels (nationally only 2%, see Table 7.1).

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CONCLUSION Twenty-seven years ago, Talaheni, a 245 ha mixed grazing property in the Yass Valley in NSW, was suffering environmental degradation including severe ongoing loss of native vegetation and associated biodiversity, due primarily to long-standing chronic dryland salinity. A rolling multi-dimensional farm plan was developed to implement an integrated management approach to address environmental degradation as a necessary precursor to maintaining production benefits. Domestic stock were progressively excluded from 25% of the property as the refencing program proceeded, with new management boundaries based on land quality and landscape variation. An estimated 200 000 trees of local native species were established in an active regeneration program. Six kilometres of multi-purpose corridors were established with tubestock planting of a further 25 000 mixed-species native trees, in order to link remnant vegetation patches. As a result, measured habitat and diversity values at landscape and community levels have increased, as has the presence of native birds, mammals, reptiles and plants. Despite the removal of conventional agricultural enterprise from nearly a third of its area (including infrastructure), production at Talaheni has increased in both quantity and quality. Increasing biodiversity values concurrently with improved production benefits is a direct consequence of addressing the primary environmental issues in an integrated manner. The success of Talaheni has been recognised with many awards, including the UN World Environment Day Triple Bottom Line Award (2004), and has attracted hundreds of local, national and international visitors.

THE MESSAGE The key messages from this case study are as follows. 1 2

3

4

5

6

Numerous biodiversity gains have been demonstrated over the past 27 years on Talaheni. Biodiversity has been enhanced, even under adverse environmental conditions, as part of ongoing farming operations, e.g. triggering natural regeneration by taking advantage of drought conditions. Production quantum has been increased concurrently with quality of production and with increased biodiversity. Improving biodiversity and production need not be incompatible. Production gains cannot be attributed directly to specific biodiversity gains – rather, both production and biodiversity gains are a byproduct of overcoming the fundamental causes of environmental decline, particularly dryland salinity and soil acidity. The lack of well-established scientific explanations of the causal links between biodiversity and production remains an impediment to landholder acceptance of biodiversity enhancements as a primary objective. Without such links, widespread biodiversity enhancement will require significant incentives such as publicly funded and supported stewardship payments to encourage landholders to commit to such strategies. In the absence of such payments or demonstrated production linkages, or both, biodiversity benefits will remain an uncertain consequence of tackling other environmental issues and priorities (in this case salinity and acidity) which are more clearly shown to be holding back immediate production.

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This case study is presented in the hope that it might prompt some genuine self-appraisal and rethinking of entrenched attitudes. The defensive responses of some landholders and rural industries to private on-farm investment in natural resource management in general, and biodiversity in particular, should be revisited in the light of this and other examples (Ive 2005a, b).

REFERENCES Anon (1974). Yass District technical manual. Soil Conservation Service NSW: Sydney. Anon (2004). The landcare network: landcare profile – John Ive & family. Landcare Pulse. Anon (2005). A brief guide to flora of the Murrumbateman area. Murrumbateman Landcare Group. Anon (2006). Climate change in the Murrumbidgee Catchment. NSW Government/CSIRO. Available online at http://www.greenhouse.nsw.gov.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/4558/061108_ Murrumbidgee_Detailed_Final.pdf. Accessed 23 April 2007. Freeman B & Dumsday R (2003). Evaluation of environmental services provided by farm forestry. Discussion paper. URS Australia Pty Ltd. Ive JR (2004). Measuring environmental benefits so they’re more than just a good idea. Australian Forest Grower Winter, 22–24. Ive JR (2005a). Grounds for a DIY approach to NRM. Australian Forest Grower Spring, 31–32. Ive JR (2005b). Truce needed in green war. Weekly Times, 9 February 2005, p. 16. Ive JR (2006). Murrumbateman Landcare Group: rabbit control campaign. Landcare newsletter, Yass Area Network and Murrumbidgee Catchment Management Authority November–December. Ive JR (2007). Can drought really help your revegetation effort? Agribusiness Chain 7, 16–17. Ive JR & Cocks KD (1988). Rural land degradation in Australia: the role of trees in ecological solutions. In Proceedings of International Forestry conference, vol 1, pp. 1–11. Albury-Wodonga. Ive JR & Ive RL (2007). Achieving production and environmental benefits in a challenging landscape. In Proceedings of Grasslands NSW conference. Pasture systems: managing for a variable climate, pp. 26–32. Queanbeyan, 18–19 July 2007. Langtry JO (1999) (ed). Rising water tables and salinity in Yass River Valley. Murrumbidgee Landcare Association: Wagga Wagga. Majer J (1983). Ants: bio-indicators of mine site rehabilitation, land use and land conservation. Environmental Management 7, 375–383. Oliver S (2006). Persistence and a cool hand heal salinity hotspot. Natural passion – inspiring stories of practical sustainability. Land & Water Australia, 21. Parkes D, Newell G & Cheal D (2003). Assessing the quality of native vegetation: the Habitat Hectares approach. Ecological Management and Restoration 4–S29–38. Taws N (2007). Bringing birds back: a glovebox guide for bird identification and habitat restoration in ACT & SE NSW. Greening Australia: Canberra. Wilson SM, Whitman JAH, Bhati UN, Horvath D & Tran YD (1995). Trees on farms: survey of trees on Australian farms 1993–94. Research report 95.7. Australian Bureau of Agricultural and Resource Economics: Canberra.

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8 Regenerative agriculture: the case for dialogue with nature Graham Strong

I

f we are to successfully combine productivity and profitability with healthy biodiversity, we must first challenge the dominant paradigm. For the vast bulk of agriculture in Australia, ‘productivity’ means maintaining the flow of large quantities of product for a distant market with no connection or interest to place or history (Main 2005). ‘Profitability’ is the model’s measure of efficiency. It is a market model which demands we deliver at the cheapest possible price, a system which physically separates and emotionally isolates people from that most intimate of relationships with the earth – the act of growing food. My family has watched this system over five generations on the land. We have watched people gradually leave, buildings become redundant and once-vibrant communities vanish. ‘Get big or get out’ has been the mantra. It is my hope that this collection of case studies will help us challenge the ubiquitous, disempowering, wholly uninspiring yet frighteningly dominant definition of productivity. I hope that some learn to laugh at how they once thought they could force a model to be in perfect union with biodiversity, a concept that embodies freedom, dynamism and expression. I hope that the convictions of converts are reinforced and their confidence boosted, and that my story is supporting evidence for the validity of their arguments. We heard time and again at the conference that stories of change began with a fundamental philosophical shift, and that has certainly been my experience. The words ‘productivity’ and ‘profitability’ fell so easily onto the eco-friendly recycled conference brochure that brought us together. I hope that since then we have made them mean something to get excited about and not merely a reference to the grind, an inescapable imperative. I hope we can encourage people to question a system which results in overproduction of

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cheap generic food with no connection to place. I hope we continue to question the wisdom of applying global economic rationalist theory to food production, emptying rural landscapes of people in the process, further driving the disconnect between food and life. I hope we continue to question the assumption that greater and greater levels of efficiency alone will enable us to deliver environmental responsibility. That we are leading the way forward, beyond politics, to look for as many ways as possible to go around the back door of the monopoly-driven production agenda to get closer to our customers, to ourselves, to our neighbours and to the planet. That way we will discover that biodiversity, production, prosperity and human emotion are one and the same thing, and therefore the job of ‘balancing production and biodiversity’ will be a whole lot easier.

PEOPLE, TRADITION AND TECHNOLOGY My family has been on the land in this country for five generations. The farm is made up of six original properties that were closer settlement blocks balloted to settlers in the early 1900s. My parents live on ‘Arcadia’, the original block settled by my great-grandfather in 1904. I live on the adjoining property, ‘Oakvale’. The remaining properties are ‘Hillside’, ‘Currajong’, ‘Clydebank’ and ‘Larell’. I have two sisters, one who lives in Gothenburg in Sweden with her family and a younger sister who lives in Melbourne. While my sisters do not have much to do with the day-today running of the farm, they hold deep attachments and still call it home. They are very proud of my parents, of me and of the work we do on the farm, and visit us as often as they can. The friends of my Melbourne-based sister frequently visit too, and we always have a job for them. It might surprise some that we consider ourselves ‘conservative’ farmers. We breed merino sheep for wool as we have done for at least three generations. Living on the edge of the Hay Plains, the cradle of Australia’s wool industry, I value the history and hard work that has gone into producing such an amazing natural fibre. Like many farms in the district we produce wheat, barley, oats and sometimes lupins and canola if we get a good autumn break, but there are other things happening as well. What is different about our farm? The difference starts with people and decision-making. Wise decision-making, starting with my grandparents, means our family business has no inherited debt and nor does it carry any debt. There have never been large injections of ‘old money’, and we’ve resisted any urges to borrow money. We have modern machinery, but not necessarily the latest and greatest. We have held onto most of the traditional enterprises, but the way we manage and market those enterprises is changing. New enterprises are added to complement the old ones. Our family is certainly not anti-technology, but we don’t leap onto the latest high-tech gadget as soon as our neighbours have one. We spend money but we spend it carefully. We live comfortably but not extravagantly. We have well-maintained infrastructure and our soils are becoming healthier. Biodiversity is flourishing and people are returning to the landscape. The future looks extremely positive for our family farm even as many farmers face unprecedented pressure from looming droughts and market forces. Why?

DIALOGUE AND CHANGE Real, lasting, long-term conservation and production outcomes in rural landscapes require long-term commitment from people who live there. From people who know the land, who love 76

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the land, who have joyous memories of growing up in that country. Putting clinical terms and definitions on country such as ‘natural resource management’ discourages a personal relationship with the land. Even though many of these examples have been invented by well-meaning people, they contain an unconscious colonial tradition of command and control, monologue and mastery (Main 2005). Such terms reinforce a monologue rather than a dialogue with the land which will always place production above all other values, however hard we talk about balance. A pretence that biodiversity and production are a dichotomy is reinforced, which leads us to think in terms of compromise. This severely limits our ability to think creatively about the future, so we naively and eagerly accept ideas and propaganda which further reinforce the monologue and the erosion of local knowledge and creativity. Often language is ‘spun’ or packaged to suggest otherwise. For example, not so long ago agrichemical companies called their sprays ‘pesticides’. By the late 1990s many had rebranded themselves as ‘life science’ organisations and produced ‘crop protection products’. One of the world’s largest agrichemical companies, in a marketing campaign for patented GM crops, even had the audacity to use a slogan with almost religious connotations: ‘Food, health, hope’. The power of language should not be underestimated and nor should our vulnerability to swallow it (Scott & Watson 2006). In 1994, I returned to the farm after travelling around the US for 10 months working on farms and with a contract harvest team. I had seen a lot of farming across several mid-west states in a country that, to me as a naïve 20-year-old, was supposed to be progressive. The things that impressed me were the big flashy machines and technology that we would not see in Australia for another 10 years. Only a year after returning home did I recall the images of the many US farmers in their 50s and 60s, shovelling grain from flat-bottom silos, the relative absence of younger farming generations, the large soulless industrial fields. I recalled the disparity between the few large high-tech farms I had worked on or visited and most of the farms that I worked on with the contract harvest team. Something was wrong, something was missing. Despite all their subsidies and their richer soil, I realised that US farmers were no better off than Australian farmers. Their landscape was rapidly industrialising, with culture, people and biodiversity being compromised or pushed out of the way altogether. It took me a year home on the farm to process all this and realise that the same patterns were happening here. I sensed that my parents shared similar concerns and anxieties about the future. In 1994–95 there was a particularly severe drought, a taste of things to come. A farmerowned water scheme that my father had been involved in developing after the 1982–83 drought was a lifesaver for our farm that year. We found ourselves looking for new directions and ideas. The returning images of dust storms, soil erosion, dying vegetation and trees invoked personal sadness, the same as a dying family member, and this jolted us into a sudden realisation. The answer lay right in front of us, in the spirit of the country itself. The revolution began in 1996. The first thing we did on our property was make an effort to engage in dialogue with our country and, most importantly, start acting on that dialogue. We rejected language which suggested a monologue rather than a dialogue with land and a dichotomy between biodiversity and production (Scott & Watson 2006). We talked about dialogue and regeneration. We thought about our land as a living being with personality, history and a life in its own right, not merely as a ‘natural resource’ to be ‘mined’. We deeply questioned the assumption that loss of biodiversity was a necessary albeit unfortunate compromise in the quest for increased production and efficiency. By the late 1990s, our family had taken a keen interest in local plants on roadsides, the natural personality of this land. We became members of the local Field Naturalists club and 77

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learnt a great deal about local reptiles, birds, fungi and plants. Town-based members greatly appreciated having a new farm to visit. We looked for anything that distinguished our land from being referred to as a ‘production unit’. Whatever a difference was, we nurtured it. If we found people who liked visiting the farm, we encouraged them to come again. We got into tree planting, changed our farming practices and looked for social opportunities that brought land and people closer together. Since 1996 we have implemented several key developments. We have:

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planted and direct-seeded over 250 000 trees; planted 120 ha of old man saltbush (Atriplex nummularia) plantations which provide year-round green feed for livestock; increased tree and shrub cover from 2% to 12%; maintained wool production and improved wool quality and animal health; improved management of remnant vegetation and overall perenniality and groundcover; retained stubble when cropping (we haven’t burnt crop residues since 1995); cut costs by eliminating insecticide and fungicide use on crops; developed pasture cropping (sowing crops into perennial native pastures); purchased and restored the Birrego Church; encouraged people to return to the landscape through WWOOF (Willing Workers on Organic Farms), farm stays, tree-planting weekends and parties, hosting regular visits from university students and academics, farmer groups, arts and media people, and field days; added carbon credits, bush foods and native seed sales as sources of income; direct-marketed our lamb ‘paddock to plate’ through personal engagement with our customers.

I must stress that dialogue with land and lots of on-ground action happened first. The following talk about models is only a way to describe what has happened in the past and what is happening now. By 2004 we discovered that something truly exciting was happening on the farm. A new model was evolving that was previously considered only an academic theory – the triple bottom line. This was a nice idea but it always seemed to be a bit forced, as if it was a necessary burden in the name of ethical responsibility, perhaps a useful corporate sales pitch. We found ourselves practising something similar by coincidence not by design, and gained new insights. ‘Holism’ (Smuts 1926), the idea that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts, was beginning to materialise. A model which places ‘biodiversity’ on one side and ‘production’ on the other and attempts to find ‘balance’ is problematic. There are too many assumptions and missing components, as outlined in my introduction. A new model is needed. The way we look at our farm and how decisions are made today could be described in the Venn diagram in Figure 8.1. There are four key areas where decisions are made and processes occur. Some of these are physical, some are emotional or psychological; some decisions are made by us, some are made by our environment. There is conversation going on between all four areas. ‘Production’ has been broken down into four different forms of production. This clarifies exactly what we are producing when we talk about production. When we overlap the circles, we immediately see that biodiversity becomes a type of production, eliminating the commonly perceived problem of antagonism or compromise that results if they are placed in separate boxes. 78

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Ways of making $ to pay for inescapable costs, maintenance of land and infrastructure, cash-flow and lifestyle for now and for the future

Personal happiness and fulfillment for each person involved in the farm/family

Activities which engage and nurture creative senses Activities which nurture relationships between land and people

Physiological and mental health

The combined diversity and mass of all living organisms on the farm

Figure 8.1: Four components of ‘production’

As each of the four areas is strengthened the whole becomes more robust. More attention may sometimes be needed to one area, as weak links are identified in the chain. But over time, a positive feedback loop develops and the system becomes self-sustaining. At the centre of the model is ‘prosperity’, the sum of all areas working symbiotically together. Not only is the centre or prosperity strengthened, but each outside area becomes stronger and more dynamic. There is no compromise, only greater stability of the whole. This is not just an academic theory. It has been our experience. In the early phases of applying this model on a farm and with a family, there may be perceived antagonisms or compromises. But our experience has been that these are only short term readjustment issues. For example, in 1997 we decided to phase out insecticide use on pastures and crops, and stopped spraying out annual grass ‘weeds’ from our clover and lucerne pastures. There was severe red-legged earth mite damage initially but we found that, because we weren’t spraying out the grasses, the pasture had a greater variety of plant species which in turn encouraged a greater variety of insects including mite predators. Because we weren’t spraying insecticides, we weren’t killing these beneficial insects. After a couple of years the mites were no longer a problem. Soon after, we began time-controlled grazing of our sheep. This essentially means high densities of livestock for short times on any given area of land followed by long rest periods for plants to fully recover. This further improved conditions for a diverse range and volume of insect and arachnid species due to the long rest times between grazing. We have not used insecticides on crops or pastures since 1997; this has saved costs and caused no problems or compromise to financial production. We have boosted biodiversity in the paddocks. Any elimination of chemical use has to be good for our well-being. With regards to the cultural area, these days I’m likely to be out walking across my paddocks, perhaps putting up an electric fence for time-controlled grazing, with the help of a WWOOFer from Germany. 79

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SEARCHING FOR KNOWLEDGE The insects and spraying was one of a few early discoveries we made, quite by accident, about the interplay between people, culture, financial production and biodiversity. We set about looking for new knowledge, inspiration and experience to add to our own. One of my most memorable lessons was visiting the McFarland family at ‘Oxley Station’, north-west of Hay on the saltbush plains. Mr McFarland took us on a tour around the family property, and showed us a rabbit-control method he had learnt from work done in Africa by Allan Savory and Dick Richardson (Savory 1995). It involved simply erecting a pole with a T-piece at the entrance to a rabbit warren. Birds of prey would see the perch above the flat plain and roost there, quickly discovering the source of tasty food below. Rabbits that weren’t taken by birds literally starved to death if they stayed in the burrow. A key McFarland philosophical approach was to take a problem and turn it into an opportunity. An example was hunters and feral pigs. Both used to be a problem. The pigs destroyed vegetation and the hunters had a reputation for leaving rubbish and shooting signs. In 1972, Bob responded by leaving a permit book for would-be hunters to sign on entering the property. He soon found that 99.9% of hunters complied and were responsible people, and that only 0.1% were troublemakers. Prior to the facts being made available via the information in the permit book, all hunters copped the blame for the irresponsible behaviour of a few. The McFarlands realised they had a case of supply and demand, and an identified market. Mr McFarland introduced a small fee for shooting and camping rights on his property and developed personal relationships with hunters. They would visit, mostly from Melbourne, and get rid of the pigs and – legally, of course – the ratbag hunters who were trespassing. Many have become good friends. Mr McFarland was walking down a busy street in Melbourne one day when a hunter recognised him and shouted from a taxi, ‘Bob McFarland!’ Mr McFarland was also made an honorary member of the Macedonian Club in Richmond – many of the visiting hunters were of European descent. The nominator explained, ‘Bob was the only Australian he’d ever met who had welcomed him properly, allowed him onto his property, let him play his mandolin and freely share his culture’. Since 1972, the McFarlands have had around 4500 paying guests who have camped on their property. Many are now regular visitors. Feral pig numbers are down so far that they have almost disappeared, but at least the natural vegetation the pigs used to destroy is returning. The McFarlands also founded the company which makes ‘Charlie Carp’. This natural fertiliser made from European carp harvested from our waterways turns a pest into a profit and something good for the land. These lessons of observation, unexpected opportunities, creative thinking, respecting natural processes and keeping things as simple and low-cost as possible were an inspiration which gave me confidence in my own creativity and intuition. The story of a feral pig problem turning into one of breaking down cultural barriers and racism, helping biodiversity, making new friends and making money at the same time is production at its finest!

TREES Tree planting became popular in the early 1990s with the rise of the Landcare movement. As members of the newly formed Strontian Road Landcare Group, we set about carefully planting our first 50 trees along the farm track that leads to the homestead at Arcadia. We

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Figure 8.2: Early days of Landcare in the 1990s. From top left, clockwise: Students learn how to take piezometer readings to measure water table height; local farmers at a ‘no-till’ field day hosted by the Strontian Road Landcare Group; an early tree planting (note the ancient fire truck being used to water seedlings and the narrow width of the planting strip); field trip to Hay to look at cultivated old man saltbush plantations planted to lower water tables

were enthusiastic, but the problem is that generally the novelty starts to wear thin for many farmers after four or five years and 500 or so trees. People become tired of replacing failed seedlings that were not indigenous, but were often grown from seed native to an area hundreds of kilometres away. The paradigm of conservation and production being antagonistic was alive and well, along with memories of high interest rates and forced farm sales. Tree planting was a nice thing to do, but production was still paramount and separated. There had to be a better way. Not only a better way to get trees and shrubs and biodiversity back into the landscape, but to disprove that biodiversity and production were at odds, or were even separate things. In 1997 I started experimenting with direct-seeding, though not with the typical ‘trail behind a ute’ single-row approach. I decided to use our broadacre cropping equipment. After a few trials and errors, the first corridor of trees was sown in late winter 1998. In 1999, I sowed a 1 km long × 40 m wide (6 ha) corridor with five species of understorey in about 10 minutes using a container of seed collected from local roadside reserves. With the help of a friend visiting from Sweden, I planted about 1200 eucalypts (E. microcarpa, E. meliodora), hooked needlewood (Hakea tephrosperma) and other assorted rarer plants we had cultivated in the farm nursery, all from local seed. We didn’t bother watering or guarding. The

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Figure 8.3: Late 1990s to early 2000s. From top left, clockwise: Student WWoofer (Willing Workers on Organic Farms) from Germany helping collect seed for broad-scale direct-seeding on Arcadia; Jan Strong planting quandong (Santalum acuminatum) seeds in tree belts and other fenced revegetation areas; seedlings growing in the farm nursery at Oakvale; drying acacia, senna and hopbush seed after scarification in boiling water

results were astounding. A transect of the corridor two years later showed an estimated 50 000 trees, 49 000 of them established without us raising a sweat. The planting part of this method was relatively simple and a lot easier than in the early days, but it still involves work and time. In 2000, I initiated a community project called ‘DancePlant’, involving my personal interest in electronic music and some enthusiastic friends from Wagga Wagga. The idea was to take a group of idealistic young people with excess energy, put them to work planting trees and have a big party afterwards. My sister had been to a similar party near Melbourne and told me about the idea. Not only did we hold several events on my property and plant thousands of seedlings, we went to other properties in the Wagga Wagga region and planted trees on public and private land. DancePlant brought me into contact with new friends and gave me experiences which I still benefit from today. One of those I met was George Main, who was writing his thesis at the time (Main 2005). DancePlant is no longer operating, but it taught us how to plant trees and put on great parties. In 2004 we hosted some visiting Canadian WWOOFers who were rock stars in their own country. As a way of thanking us for our hospitality, they returned to the farm with full band en route from Adelaide to Sydney. We organised a party, invited lots of people and did some tree planting. There were guitars, drums and exchanges of human experience. This is the

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Figure 8.4: Late 1990s to early 2000s. Using social events to get trees planted and make life fun at the same time. From top left, clockwise: Volunteers take a break from planting; Party after an afternoon of planting using an old truck cabin as the DJ booth; Rosie Smith, George Main (holding shovel) and Graham Strong at a property in Cootamundra; volunteers in 2002 planting a site on Arcadia that came under a carbon trading title in 2007, enabling us to market our wool in a carbon neutral pool

sort of stuff that makes farming at Arcadia dynamic and enriching and, in terms of holism, a further strengthening of the cultural sphere. So far we have established around 250 000 trees on the property. Insects are returning, small birds are returning. Grey crowned babblers (Pomatostomus temporalis) scratch through the litter in the new corridors and nest in our managed old growth remnants and wonderful roadside trees. Another threatened species, the superb parrot (Polytelis swainsonii), regularly stops in our tree corridors to feed on senna (Senna artemisioides) seeds, before continuing their migration perhaps to an old red gum (Eucalyptus camaldulensis) on a distant river floodplain. We collect native seed from these areas and have planted seedbanks for use in further revegetation projects. We also sell or contract the seed for local catchment management authority seedbanks. My mother has sown hundreds of quandong seeds in the tree corridors by hand. Many of these seeds have become young trees that already bear masses of wonderful fruit, which she sells to restaurants that also buy our lamb. On most of the revegetated areas we use simple and inexpensive two- or three-wire electric fencing to manage livestock. In the first year, we use the livestock to intensively trample the sites to manage weeds and encourage tree growth. Following that we limit stock movement into the tree corridors, but do not place complete control over the livestock. The light fencing

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is designed to be semi-permeable. If the stock really want to get into the tree belts they can and will slip through the fence. The fence is to discourage, not completely control. If sheep start pushing through the fence, it means they need or want something in there. It could be shade or nutrients in the tree foliage that’s not available in the pasture, or maybe they just want to be out of that paddock. This is a classic example of dialogue with natural systems. If animals are telling us they are not happy where they are and would like to be moved somewhere else, we listen and act!

SALTBUSH The establishment of old man saltbush (Atriplex nummularia) for grazing on our property has been a fantastic example of integrating the areas of financial production, improving biodiversity and expanding our cultural experience. We have saved thousands of dollars in feed costs, while maintaining wool production and quality. Grazing management has improved over the whole property due to the consolidation of mobs for grazing the saltbush. This has led to increases in rest time for other pastures, which in turn has encouraged greater species diversity. A new enterprise, ‘Arcadia Saltbush Lamb’, was launched in 2006. We now have personal relationships with our butchers and customers and have learnt that our whole-farm management is an appealing selling point. Not only do customers enjoy the mineral-rich, moist, lean and tasty attributes of saltbush lamb, they also enjoy and value the personal story we convey, the traceability and the way we treat our animals. This feedback is a positive emotional and psychological boost, which inspires confidence in the direction we are moving, leading to positive actions. The cycle continues. Our paddock-to-plate lamb enterprise has taught us to be food-focused rather than commodity-focused, a lesson we can apply to our cropping enterprise. Sowing less area to crop and more types of crops than we did a decade ago gives us more flexibility and spreads our risk. Because we aren’t relying on large quantities of grain that must be sold quickly to generate cash flow in order to pay leases on expensive technology or bank loans, we can choose our price and time to sell with less worry and stress. We don’t have a huge area of crop that owes us thousands of dollars in input costs. It’s a simple case of not having all our eggs in one basket. Smaller tonnages of grain at harvest may create future opportunities for direct marketing as quality food, as we do with our lamb. Oats can be grazed as well as harvested and the grain can be sold or fed back to our sheep. The saltbush lambs require a small energy ration of oats to help them put on fat, as the saltbush is high in protein and minerals but low in energy.

THE BIRREGO CHURCH The first community building in the Boree Creek area was the Union Church, built circa 1896 on the property then known as ‘Clyde’. Following the extension of rail to Boree Creek, separate denominational churches were built in the new township and the Union Church was sold to the Methodists in 1912. The building was then moved to Birrego, a site about 800 m from where I now live at Oakvale. In 2004 the owners (the Uniting Church) put the building up for tender, following gradual decline in the congregation over the years. The building holds personal historical value for my father, as his grandparents were the first couple to be married

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Figure 8.5: The present. From top left, clockwise: Arcadia Saltbush Lamb, a value-adding enterprise which uses our extensive revegetation (saltbush and grass pastures) to provide a complex, balanced shrub-based diet with a good proportion of saltbush to yield a very tasty, tender meat; lambs in a paddock of saltbush are not very scared of people, as they are moved around frequently; from paddock to plate – Arcadia Saltbush Lamb in a restaurant in high-country north-east Victoria; Michael Frederick of Morrison St Butchers, Wodonga, making continental sausages from Arcadia Saltbush Lamb for savvy crowds in Federation Square, Melbourne

in the church. My parents put in a offer; we won, and moved the building to the present site in my parents’ back garden. They spent two and a half years renovating the building and giving it new life. The Birrego Church B&B will open soon, when the finishing touches are completed.

THE FUTURE An exciting new idea is being trialled on Arcadia. Colin Seis from Gulgong in NSW has been evolving a pasture-cropping system over the last 15 years, successfully sowing and harvesting annual grain crops in living native grass pastures. I attended one of his workshops in April 2007, where I learnt that soil organic carbon levels on Colin’s property ‘Winona’ have risen from 2% to 4% after successive years of pasture cropping. Pasture-cropping has very low input costs other than seed, sowing and harvest costs. It is ideally suited to farmers seeking to market grain on environmental credentials because the process naturally encourages recruitment of perennial native grasses and uses low amounts of, or no, chemicals and artificial fertilisers.

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Our lamb enterprise is going from strength to strength. The product sells itself and our only problem is supply. More saltbush is being planted and our move towards pasture-cropping and grazing will complement this expanding enterprise. As we continue to direct seed and plant more trees around the farm, I plan to create a series of walks for farm-stay guests with stiles over fences, and perhaps interpretive signs along the way with bird hides. Other exciting developments on the farm include working with a national arts organisation called BighART. This group involves disadvantaged young people in arts projects which reconnect them with the community. By focusing on others they gain confidence in themselves. A group of young people is filming and editing documentary-style footage about us and the farm. There are five other farming families in NSW involved in this project, and it is hoped we can pull something together such as a big theatre production on one of the properties, involving the whole local community.

CONCLUSIONS The successful approach to biodiversity, conservation and production first involved recognising four different types of production – financial, cultural, biodiversity and emotional/psychological. The new model emphasises that each area interact with the others to strengthen the whole. We call the whole ‘prosperity’. When we make decisions in any one of the four areas, we test the decision to see how it will affect the remaining three. We act on the decision if the test indicates a likely positive response in all areas. The result is that all areas respond positively with a win-win-win-win outcome. Over time, this decision-making process becomes largely instinctive. We use technology to serve our own goals and no one else’s. I see many farmers who have become slaves to expensive technology. They may have become more ‘efficient’ at what they do, but they tend to get constrained into certain kinds of production systems or blinded to the big picture. I’ve seen $200 000 seeding rigs sitting idle for three days, because the GPS guidance system was malfunctioning! Often there is little attention on actually marketing produce, only a disproportionate focus on producing volume. Science and technology are important in farming, but our experience has shown that they are only two of many tools that are the result of creative thought. They are a means to an end. Make sure you know what that end is. If we rely too heavily on any one tool, other valuable tools can be neglected and insights lost. Human intuition should not be underestimated. All the tree planting we’ve done and the way we’ve done it has been because it ‘felt right’ to do. The lamb enterprise was not a result of hours and hours of laborious market research. We just went out and did it because we knew it would work! I’m not saying ‘Don’t do market research’, because we certainly would have done some if we had any doubts. What I am saying is to value your own convictions, have faith in your intuitive feelings and turn that into passion. My message to farmers is to seek and surround yourselves with positive, creative and supportive people from as many walks of life as possible. Locating these people might be a good creativity exercise in itself. If you can’t see through a problem, seek help. Don’t waste your time on cynics or people who tell you ‘It can’t be done’. They are often mediocre or failed business people. Have a healthy stubbornness – find a way to disprove them. Finally, remember that everything starts with biodiversity, trees make soil, and nurturing a personal relationship with country is what keeps us here.

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REFERENCES Main G (2005). Heartland: the regeneration of rural place. UNSW Press: Sydney. Savory A (1995). Holistic resource management. Island Press: Washington DC. Scott P & Watson G (2006). An exploration of language for biodiversity and regeneration in Australian agriculture. AFBM Journal Farm Business and Farming Systems Management 3(2), 86–91. Smuts JC (1926). Holism and evolution. Macmillan: New York.

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9 People and their sense of place Cynthia and Tom Dunbabin

Yet intimacy, knowledge, love and the attributing of value are the foundation of all real conservation … The attributing of value always require[s] close familiarity (Seddon 1997).

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onservation is more than just biology. It’s about people and people’s sense of place. Private landholders own and manage 60% of the Australian continent and their inclusion and active participation in the formulation of ecological and productive landscape visions is essential if Australia’s natural biodiversity is to be retained into the future. This case study describes our thoughts about landscapes and conservation, and how we have been practising conservation on two grazing properties, ‘Bangor’ near Dunalley in south-east Tasmania and ‘The Quoin’ near Ross in the east midlands.

CARING FOR THE LAND The management of Australia’s natural resources during the 200+ years since European settlement has led to irreversible environmental changes, which have reduced the inherent biological productivity of the land and had detrimental effects on our natural biota. Linn (1999) suggests that this has resulted not just from our inability to comprehend the uniqueness, complexity and uncertainty of our environment and our failure to respect the knowledge and understanding of people on the land, but also because of poorly considered and constructed government policy and inappropriate responses to social pressures and needs. If Australia is to retain the biota that remain we must do more than simply change land management practices. We must redesign the very basis on which these practices are formulated

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and enacted. Solutions involve people taking action. Innovative solutions arise when people share knowledge and aspirations, and action occurs when people have developed common goals and participated in planning. The Malpai agenda for grazing in the Sonoran and Chihuahuan Bioregions (the borderlands of New Mexico and Arizona in the US and Mexico) summed up the need when it proposed that ‘a concerted effort be made to identify the conservational common ground that unites all of us who love the land, then to create programs in which we can work together to implement the values we share’ (Sayre 2005). Federal and state governments, the architects of natural resource management policy in Australia, have developed a range of programs and strategies (funded through the Natural Heritage Trust) which rely on private landowners for enactment. In most cases, however, these programs have been developed and implemented without a co-operatively formulated and clearly articulated vision and plan for the ecological, social and economic future. The strong Landcare movement that emerged during the 1980s was a solid foundation on which to develop such a vision. Unfortunately, this socially powerful and effective movement has been marginalised with the implementation of the second round of the Natural Heritage Trust (NHT2). We now have a regional model that in theory is decentralised but in practice centralises decisionmaking through a federally controlled and funded arrangement (Crowley 2001) that is disempowering for landowners. It fits what van der Ploeg (2003) describes as a ‘virtual macroproject’ lacking the capability to interest and involve others, or to realise action beyond the planning stage. If landowners are to be empowered to actively manage for the biodiversity conservation outcomes NHT2 purports to have, participatory processes must be implemented to develop landscape visions that acknowledge the relationships of farmers and the land and the meanings they associate with their environment – their sense of place. Science, anecdotal information, history, culture, social structures and economics all need to be considered when creating our future landscapes. The task is far greater than any one individual or group can grasp and undertake, and ongoing knowledge, valuing and sharing, planning and co-operative action will be required to create and live the shared vision.

SENSE OF PLACE, MEANINGS AND RELATIONSHIPS An individual is not distinct from his place – he is that place (Marcel, in Relph 1976). Relph (1976) describes place as the basis of human existence. People create places from spaces as they experience, plan and act within environments, both human-made and natural, and people are tied to place by emotional bonds. People’s care for places is based on past experiences and future expectations. Relph refers to this care as a real responsibility and respect for places for themselves, and what they mean to the individual and to others. He speaks of people’s relationship to place as a complete commitment ‘that is as profound as any that a person can make, for caretaking is indeed the basis of man’s relation to the world’ (Relph 1976). When talking of people’s creation of place, Relph acknowledges the contribution of the environment itself by suggesting that the character of the space in part determines the place that is made.

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Malpas (1999) further develops the ideas about place and its importance. He describes landscape as both something to which we all, as people, belong, and as something which belongs to us. Places make us just as much as we make places; places and people are mutually constituted in each other. Malpas proposes that we are nothing but the relationships between places, ourselves and other people within place, and that our sense of who we are cannot be separated from these relationships. He says that to live, or dwell, means to take care of and preserve our relationships and environments, and that caring necessitates more than just appreciating or liking. It is an active process, and it is through our actions that we articulate who we are. Thus places are never static backdrops within which we act; people and places are continually evolving together and are dependent upon each other. The longer we are associated with a place, the longer the people of significance in our lives have been associated with that place, the greater is its meaning for us and the increasing likelihood of our attachment to it and our care for it. Changes in place, or changes in the management of place, affect our sense of place and we can react strongly if they are uninvited or imposed. We all have our own personal sense of place. Any one environment will be sensed and interpreted differently by different people, and each person will attribute different meaning to it. No one will sense all aspects of any given place. There is no right or wrong about a personal sense of place, just difference from another’s sense. To approach and appreciate another’s sense of place we must be willing to communicate with them, take time to listen, be willing to enter into their world and set aside our value-laden preconceptions. For those working in the many and varied fields associated with natural resource management, their attachment to the natural environment can be strong. Sense of place is particularly strong for farmers, and their identity and belongings can be so interwoven in place as to be inseparable from it (Dunbabin 2006). For others, identity and belonging may be much more defined by profession, human-made places or events other than those of nature. For farmers, the natural environment is a large part of who they are. They depend upon the land for a livelihood – it’s where they work. They relax there, family relationships are there and they spend time with friends there. Their hopes and aspirations revolve around the farm and their place in society is increasingly judged by what they do on the farm. Asking farmers to change the way they manage their farm is asking them to change their place, to change themselves (Pretty 2006). It is our belief that because farmers have a strong connection with place, they feel passionate about it and have a high degree of responsibility towards it. Responsibility and passion are the forces that drive on-ground actions (Figure 9.1). A strong sense of place motivates farmers to undertake land-caring activities. Their passion and feelings of responsibility for the land drive their actions. NRM programs can be supportive by sharing their knowledge and by respecting farmers’ intimate understanding of their land, as well as providing recognition and financial incentives. To encourage biodiversity protection we all, from all professions and fields, need to respect and understand each other’s senses of place, motivations for action and desired outcomes; and value each other’s knowledge. Only then can we find common ground upon which to build effective natural resource plans and management practices. People manage Australia’s land; if we are to achieve landscape and biodiversity protection in farming landscapes then relationships that include mutual respect for visions, values and meanings – the foundations of sense of place – are critical.

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Sense of place

Responsibility Knowledge shared Recognition respect incentives Farmers intimate understanding

Actions

Passion

Figure 9.1: Sense of place as a fundamental driver of responsible action

SENSE OF PLACE AND BIODIVERSITY CONSERVATION The persistent and increasing public debate in Australia over the environment suggests that biodiversity, natural resource use and land- and seascapes are important parts of people’s identity and their sense of place. Strong feelings are evoked as the significance of the current and escalating threat to environment and place in Australia, and globally, is being realised and people are expressing their concerns. Some concerns are shared (biodiversity conservation, greenhouse gas abatement, landscape preservation) while others, although not commonly shared, are very important to individuals or communities. In response to community concerns, governments have conserved landscapes in national parks, but these areas are limited in size and are not representative of all of the nation’s flora and fauna. Comprehensive environmental protection in Australia cannot be achieved without the active engagement of private landowners. People do things for their own reasons, not for the reasons of others. If governments want farmers to carry out their plans they have to ensure that they have taken into account the meanings, values and concerns of those upon whom they rely for agency and the conversion of plans to outcomes. This can only happen with active inclusion and participation in goal-setting and planning processes, where mutual trust and respect is fostered and all knowledge is valued, without the privileging of science over experiential or intimate knowledge or rationalism over values and attachments (Kruger 1996). Plans and strategies developed and imposed from political and professional spheres will not be enacted on privately owned farming land unless farmers themselves are dedicated to the achievement of the proposed outcomes. Landowners are unlikely to be dedicated unless strategies include processes and outcomes that are meaningful to them. Within farmed landscapes, biodiversity conservation means developing biodiversity plans and strategies with farmers and finding consensus pathways to achieving conservation outcomes. This involves taking time to build relationships and understanding, and recognising farmers’ strong senses of place. The physical assessment of flora and fauna and the formulation of plans for the management of the environment are important steps but are neither the first nor the most important. They will not be useful for the achievement of environmental outcomes without the inclusion of the people who will be doing the on-ground works. Inclusive and respectful conservation negotiation and planning processes require commitment and honesty. Meanings, values and emotions are important components of conservation planning and enactment (Adams 2006) and are often not articulated. They are not easily expressed and, when they are, are often deemed to be private – even idiosyncratic – and hence 92

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unimportant (Tuan 1977). In Australia, when governments have developed strategies and legislation people’s belongings and spiritual attachment to place have not usually been considered. Programs such as Meat & Livestock Australia’s Sustainable Grazing Systems (SGS 2002) and Australian Wool Innovation’s Land Water & Wool (LWW 2007) have successfully followed a participatory, negotiated outcome model. They have acted with landowners, not for them. Solutions have been shared and powerful, and there has been significant uptake of the management tools and products they have developed. If the Australian government is serious about community involvement and participatory processes it is important that NRM personnel be employed, and valued, by government agencies, not only for their skills in the biophysical sciences or in management but also for their expertise in listening to and communicating and empathising with others; their ability to work with others to build consensus and shared outcomes. The current system, with short-term employment contracts, devalues people and prevents the building of relationships, knowledge and expertise (Hess & Adams 2002). It limits the ability of staff to facilitate and or be involved in truly participatory processes, or indeed any processes that have long-term vision.

CONSERVATION IN PRODUCTIVE LANDSCAPES Considering all the spatial and temporal aspects of landscapes in a conservation and production planning framework is not only a complex and daunting task, but an impossible one. We can never know and understand all the interactions and processes operating in the environment, and comprehensive protection of biodiversity is only possible at landscape scales. Small isolated areas may be representative of our biota but they will not ensure its survival. To reduce the long-term risk to biodiversity, areas of significant size will require protection over long timeframes (Adams 2006). Sayre (2005) said, ‘We can never be sure about the numbers of species nor the interaction between them, and determining all the conditions and processes that allow them to exist is impossible’. Adams (2006) warns that concentrating efforts on individual species and communities currently considered endangered may well not only put at risk the rest of the ecosystem in which they exist, but will not prevent the decline of biodiversity in other ecosystems. Species within ecosystems are closely connected and interdependent and the idea that we can save any species by concentrating on that species alone has no basis in science (Adams 2006). Soule et al. (2004) suggest that the long-term protection of our biodiversity will require the protection of entire landscapes, with management primarily focused on conservation rather than production. They do not say that all production activities are incompatible with conservation and neither do they say that production cannot occur within the landscape. They say only that a landscape should be managed with biodiversity conservation as the primary goal. Some farmers are prepared to manage their land with conservation as a primary goal, but to remain viable they need appropriate remuneration for their work and managerial skills, and a return on capital investment in the land.

OUR PLACE Our 6000 ha property, Bangor, is on the northern end of Forestier Peninsula in south-east Tasmania. Its landscape holds many natural heritage and cultural values that contribute to our sense of place. The area was extensively used by Tasmanian Aborigines for winter hunting 93

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BRISBANE

ADELAIDE

SYDNEY

CANBERRA MELBOURNE

HOBART

LAUNCESTON THE QUOIN

HOBART

BANGOR

Figure 9.2: Locations of Bangor and The Quoin

and gathering, and extensive shell middens and artefacts testify to their occupation. It was the landing site of Abel Tasman in 1642, the leader of the first European expedition to set foot on Tasmanian soil. The first, and ill-fated, contact between Europeans and Tasmania’s first inhabitants took place on Two Mile Beach when Marion Dufresne landed in 1773. The area was settled in the 1820s by the Imlay brothers who cleared and drained areas for cattle grazing to provide meat for the Port Arthur penal settlement. They also hunted whales from shorebased stations. The Dunbabin family first purchased land in the area in 1890, and successive generations added to the holding over the next 100 years until Bangor was consolidated into what it is today. Our hope is that future generations of our family will have the privilege of continuing the close relationship with nature here. The name of the property was chosen because the original Dunbabin immigrant came from Bangor-is-y-coed in Wales. Over six generations, a fine-wool sheep and beef cattle grazing operation has been developed which relies on Bangor’s extensive native grasslands. The long family custodianship of, and dependency on, the land has given us an invaluable inherited knowledge of our environment and how its components interact to form a unique functioning landscape. Today, family members have science degrees and our inherited knowledge is constantly assessed and proved valuable. We are privileged to have field naturalists, research personnel and students investigate and document our natural and cultural heritage, adding to our shared knowledge. Unlike many farms, Bangor does not consist of pockets of remnant vegetation interspersed among introduced pasture, but of pasture areas surrounded by intact native vegetation. It is an incredibly beautiful place, with 35 km of coastline comprising tidal estuarine flats, rocky

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outcrops, sandy beaches and protected lagoon systems. The varied geomorphology with its corresponding diversity of vegetation communities, and the interfaces between them, provide habitat for many bird species including the threatened wedge-tail eagle (Aquila audax fleayi) and the endangered swift parrot (Lathamus discolor). Most of Tasmania’s native mammal species can also be found on Bangor, including the Tasmanian devil (Sarcophilus harrisii), Tasmanian bettong (Bettongia gaimardi), spotted-tailed quoll (Dasyurus maculatus maculatus) and the eastern barred bandicoot (Perameles gunnii). Visitors invariably comment on the scenic beauty and historical significance of the area and often say that we probably ‘take it for granted’. Nothing could be further from the truth. It is our home, the place where we earn our living, where we relax, where we walk and enjoy time with friends and family, where we reflect and where we are forever immersed in nature. It is a place for which we have the utmost respect, a place for which we feel a great deal of responsibility, a place we feel passionately about. While sense of place is certainly strengthened through time and involvement in one place it can extend beyond a particular place, and attachment can manifest very quickly. We purchased The Quoin, a property near Ross, in 2001 not only to extend our grazing business but because it is in the Tasmanian midlands, an area under severe biological threat from landscape changes. The Quoin is an area of considerable beauty and atmosphere. Its 2000 ha of steep landscape encompass a variety of vegetation communities, different from those found at Bangor. The range of fauna is similar, but The Quoin also supports the endemic Forester Kangaroo (Macropus giganteus tasmaniensis). Our knowledge and understanding of this new environment grew quickly as we immersed ourselves in it and undertook a planning program to determine fence location, access tracks and stock water requirements soon after purchase. Our knowledge was fostered by a close association with University of Tasmania staff and students working on the Land Water & Wool project, who have provided data on flora and fauna for much of the property. Research carried out on properties in the Tasmanian midlands including The Quoin has shown that grazing need not be incompatible with biodiversity conservation, and in fact can be beneficial. Many of Tasmania’s native pastures have been grazed for almost 200 years yet retain their rich species diversity. As burning frequency decreases, grazing will become even more important in maintaining these grassy ecosystems (Kirkpatrick & Bridle 2007). Our sense of place is strong not only in relation to natural environments but also in relation to our family, our cultural history, our business and livestock, our inherited wisdom, and our ethics. Bangor is what it is today because of the strength with which past generations have protected and conserved their place and the meanings associated with it. Our sense of place, like the sense of place of many farmers, is the foundation on which all our decisions and actions regarding our place are made.

LANDSCAPE CONSERVATION ON FARM The size, biophysical diversity and context within the surrounding wider landscapes of both Bangor and The Quoin make them important areas for biodiversity conservation. Maintaining the two properties as integral landscapes is a very important management goal, one that is reflected in our whole-of-farm plans. Our management decisions are made with consideration of their effect upon the whole landscape, as well as our business. In striving for biodiversity

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conservation within productive landscapes there are inevitable conflicts between management objectives, and we have chosen the following examples to illustrate some of the issues and in some cases the compromises that have been made. PERPETUAL COVENANTS We have over 2000 ha of perpetual conservation covenants and are keen to increase this area, but at present it is not an economically competitive way of retaining landscape integrity. In addition, the prescriptive approaches to management insisted upon by government programs are inflexible and restrictive, making them incompatible with the assessment, monitoring and action plans we use to adaptively manage our natural resources and our grazing business. The current government covenanting and stewardship programs tend to target threatened or vulnerable communities rather than biodiversity as a whole, and have yet to evolve beyond relatively small isolated areas to reach landscape-scale protection. If programs are to succeed in protecting biodiversity they must encompass whole landscapes, be outcome-focused rather than prescriptive, and not undermine landowners’ economic viability and their ability to manage responsively for changing conditions. MANAGING MACROPODS Browsing macropods have a significant economic impact on our farming enterprise. Trials indicate that up to 40% of sown and native pasture is consumed by wallabies. Our strategy to reduce wallaby impact includes a fencing program which excludes the majority of wallabies from sown pasture areas and has the long-term aim of returning their breeding capacity to near natural levels. Fence construction and maintenance is expensive and, for the strategy to be cost-effective, we must aim to minimise the length of fence required. Fencing divides the landscape and restricts movement, not just for wallabies but also for other animals such as echidnas (Tachyglossus aculeatus setosus), potoroos, spotted-tailed and eastern quolls (Dasyurus viverrinus) and to some extent common wombats (Vombatus ursinus tasmaniensis) and Tasmanian devils. The challenge is to gain benefit from the fence while at the same time allowing other animals to move freely. PLANTATION FORESTRY We have a long tradition of commercial utilisation of native forest through the selective harvesting of trees for sawlogs and, more recently, pulpwood. In Tasmania this sustainable form of forest utilisation is being replaced by monoculture plantations as a result of public pressure for cessation of native forest harvesting, a market demand for timber products sourced from plantations and the taxation advantages to outside investors in plantations through managed investment schemes. At Bangor, 350 ha of pasture and native forest have been leased for conversion to plantation production. VIABLE HABITAT FOR TASMANIAN DEVILS Tasmanian devils occur in high numbers on Bangor and to a lesser extent in the neighbouring state forest, with an area of 160 km2 supporting around 200 animals. Data collected on Forestier Peninsula by the Department of Primary Industries and Water’s Devil Disease Task Force, set up to investigate facial tumour disease with the aim of controlling its spread, indicates that individual devils travel large distances through the landscape (C. Pukk, pers. comm.). Their major movement pathways follow made roads which connect the diverse areas of the property. Devils live mostly in open dry eucalypt landscapes but visit more densely forested areas on 96

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occasion. The mosaic of pasture, intact natural bush and plantations provide excellent habitat, and devils benefit from the high macropod numbers promoted by our introduced grasses. They also frequent our lambing paddocks. The future impact of devil facial tumour disease is uncertain, but the devils’ requirement for extensive areas of dry forest habitat adjacent to wetter denser forest is not. The maintenance of the landscape and our farming activities at Bangor, and the future of devils there, are integrally linked. COASTAL SUBDIVISION The long-term maintenance of our landscapes depends on our ability to earn sufficient income to cover the costs of owning and managing the land while maintaining our livelihood. Proximity to Hobart, scenic coastline and easy access ensures the real estate values of Bangor will increase, as will council rates. The long-term challenge is to evolve land uses that are economically viable into the future yet retain the integrity of the landscape. Subdivision will become increasingly attractive as land prices increase. Entering into perpetual covenanting agreements provides some financial remuneration, but not sufficient to cover the cost of forgoing subdivision nor the ongoing costs of land management and ownership.

CONCLUSION Landowner sense of place is an important driver for land management activities, including biodiversity conservation. For this reason sense of place is of underlying importance to effective landscape-scale biodiversity protection on farms and an essential consideration when planning and enacting biodiversity conservation programs. Farmers’ senses of place must be respected, understood and incorporated into NRM strategies for them to be successful in dealing with the environmental issues in rural Australia. This cannot be achieved without participatory planning and strategy development processes. At Bangor and The Quoin our farm management practices, nationally recognised for achieving positive biodiversity outcomes at a whole-of-landscape scale, are constantly challenged by our need to remain economically viable, not only to earn a livelihood but to be able to invest in and protect our environment. Soule et al. (2004), speaking of land in general, said that, ‘Conservation planners must assume attempts will be made to exploit for private benefit virtually every landscape or natural resource on or near the continent using technologies that cannot even be imagined today’. It seems inevitable that sometime all land may face this threat unless the benefits from biodiversity conservation become equivalent to, or greater than, the benefits of exploitation. The answer to protection will be partly economic – ensuring the value of the land for biodiversity protection is higher than that for other resource uses, including subdivision. Effective biodiversity conservation, however, is much more than economics alone. The natural environment already forms an integral part of many farmers’ sense of place and is included whenever farm plans are made. With willingness, honesty, patience and the skills of human relationships we can protect place and biodiversity in Australia into the future.

REFERENCES Adams JS (2006). The future of the wild: radical conservation for a crowded world. Beacon Press: Boston. 97

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Crowley K (2001). Effective environmental federalism? Australia’s Natural Heritage Trust. Journal of Environmental Policy and Planning 3, 255–272. Dunbabin C (2006). RipRap. Land & Water Australia: Canberra. Hess M & Adams D (2002). Knowing and skilling in contemporary public administration. Journal of Public Administration 61, 68–79. Kirkpatrick J & Bridle K (2007). People, sheep and nature conservation: the Tasmanian experience. CSIRO Publishing: Melbourne. Kruger LE (1996). Understanding place as a cultural system: implications for theory and method. PhD thesis, University of Washington: Washington. Linn R (1999). Battling the land: 200 years of rural Australia. Allen & Unwin: Sydney. LWW (2007). Land Water and Wool final report. Land & Water Australia: Canberra. Malpas JE (1999). Place and experience: a philosophical topography. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge. Pretty G (2006). Woolgrowers’ psychological engagement with their properties and implications for the management of biodiversity and sustainability. Technical report. University of Southern Queensland/Queensland Murray–Darling Committee/Traprock Wool Association: Toowoomba, Australia. Relph E (1976). Place and placelessness. Pion: London. Sayre NF (2005). Working wilderness: the Malpai Borderlands Group and the future of the Western Range. Rio Nuevo: Tucson, Arizona. Seddon G (1997). Landprints: reflections on place and landscape. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge. Soule ME, Mackey BG, Recher HF, Williams J, Woinarski Z, Driscoll D, Denison WC & Jones ME (2004). The role of connectivity in Australian conservation. Pacific Conservation Biology 10, 266–279. SGS (2002). Sustainable Grazing Systems final report. Meat & Livestock Australia. Tuan Y-F (1977). Space and place: the perspective of experience. University of Minnesota Press: Minneapolis. van der Ploeg JW (2003). The virtual farmer. Royal Van Gorcum: Assen, Netherlands.

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10 Managing floodplains in northern Australia Tony Searle

T

he Mary River floodplain in the Northern Territory is part of a large network of over 10 000 km2 of coastal freshwater wetlands. The geomorphology of the Mary River floodplain system has resulted in the formation of a vast and comparatively long-lasting shallow wetland. This special habitat results in a biodiverse and ecologically valuable environment. The Mary River region supports tourism, recreational fishing and pastoral industries; the extended retention of fresh water throughout the driest part of the year is of particular value to grazing in the region. ‘Melaleuca Station’ is a 300 km2 property (30 000 ha) situated 200 km east of Darwin owned and managed by the Paspaley Pearls Company. Sixty per cent of the station is made up of seasonally inundated floodplain which is influenced by both fresh and saltwater river systems. Much of the remaining country is tropical savannah woodland. The average annual rainfall is 1800 mm, usually spread over a four-month summer period.

MIMOSA PIGRA Mimosa pigra is regarded as one of the worst weeds in Australia and was declared a weed of national significance by the Australian government in 1999 (Natural Resource Management Ministerial Council 2006). Mimosa aggressively outcompetes native plant species, rapidly forming impenetrable and unpalatable thickets, and can spread quickly and colonise wetland areas. Mimosa can block access to stock watering points, hamper mustering and destroy productive native floodplain grasslands. It affects production, cultural and conservation values

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Melaleuca

Timor Sea

Figure 10.1: The location of stations involved in co-ordinated weed management. Melaleuca is the property to the west of the Mary River (top right)

of wetlands – pastoralists are among the worst affected. Fifteen catchments in the Northern Territory are currently affected by mimosa, the greatest impact being felt on the landscape and ecology of the Mary, Daly, Finniss, Reynolds and Adelaide River systems. As mimosa has now spread extensively across multiple catchments, land tenures and properties, it is imperative that landowners work together to co-ordinate a systematic management approach across catchments. Melaleuca Station has been a major player in a three-year project which has resulted in 17 pastoral properties in the Mary, Daly, Finniss, Reynolds and Adelaide River catchments joining forces to create a united front against mimosa. The area involved exceeds 10 000 km2. Melaleuca Station was originally part of Point Stuart Station, used predominantly for buffalo grazing. In 1980 the mimosa infestation was small, but by 1995 one-third of the property (more than 10 000 ha) was infested. The property’s carrying capacity was limited to 200 head of cattle as all the productive country had been rendered useless by the aggressive weed. The mimosa had rapidly formed dense and impenetrable monospecific stands. Its rapid expansion could be attributed to buffalo numbers and the inaction of the previous owner.

THE MIMOSA PIGRA CONTROL PROGRAM In order to regain the valuable floodplain country, Melaleuca Station developed a Mimosa pigra control program. The plan aims to clear the mimosa strategically and systematically, and thereby regain productive land for both cattle production and environmental purposes. In this

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type of program, the achievement of management objectives will only become evident in the long term and this has to be acknowledged from the outset. Patience is required after initial clearing of mimosa, and continuing maintenance, monitoring and management is imperative. Once a control program is initiated, ‘commitment’ is the key word. Reinfestation, if untreated, is only one wet season away. CONTROL METHOD s The mimosa infestation is tackled one plot at a time (plots are 500–1000 ha). The plot to be cleared is selected one year in advance. In the early wet season (December) the plot boundary is sprayed to create a 100 m perimeter of dead mimosa (Figures 10.2, a, b and c). s In the late dry season (October) of the following year the plot perimeter is chained and sprayed again (chaining is a common method of clearing land by dragging a heavy chain between two tractors, to uproot plants). The woody debris is then stickraked up against the green mimosa plants within the plot (Figure 10.2d). s The plot is then burnt, using an accelerant. Using a helicopter, the middle of the plot is set alight first then the boundaries are lit to draw the fire inward. The effectiveness of the fire depends greatly on the climatic conditions. Ideal conditions involve winds in excess of 30 km/h, a temperature of 35°C or greater and relative humidity less than 25%. If the fire burns very hot, there will be little regrowth as the fire will have destroyed the majority of the seeds. A cool burn will result in more regrowth from fire-induced seed germination. s Flooding usually commences in the early wet season (December–February) and inundates the new seedlings, killing the majority. s In mid–late dry season (July–August) the following year, when the floodplain is dry again, the entire plot is chained. s In the following December, the young mimosa plants are sprayed. Large areas are systematically sprayed using helicopters, using a meticulous ‘run-by-run’ approach. It is important that no plants are missed. s At this stage (early in the wet season on the first storms) some revegetation of floodplain grasses can begin, but it is not the optimum time. Often grasses cannot adequately establish as the floodplains become inundated. s Once the country is opened up to sunlight, natural revegetation can begin with the establishment of sedges, reeds, annuals and perennials. s After the floodwaters have receded and the plain dries out, the large amount of woody material remaining on the clean plot is stick-raked into piles and burnt. s The next year (almost two years after the initial fire) assisted revegetation commences. This involves the dispersal of seeds or planting of runners as floodwaters are receding (July–August). Adequate groundcover will limit the re-establishment of mimosa. It is important that grasses have the opportunity to establish, particularly in floodplain channels, before the next wet season. s The establishment of diverse and palatable vegetation results in the re-establishment of faunal populations. Some species, including feral pigs and geese, can negatively affect floodplain water quality which, in turn, affects production. s Once native and introduced pasture species have been established (two to three years), light grazing can take place to encourage further spread of the grasses.

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Figure 10.2: Mimosa pigra control on Melaleuca Station using a combination of mechanical and chemical methods. From top left, clockwise: foliage; thickets after spraying; after burning and raking

s s s

Plots are then maintained by spraying with herbicides. Spraying is predominantly carried out by helicopters until mimosa plants are sparse and spot-spraying can be used. Eventually, a conscious economic decision may be made to leave some areas of mimosa and treat only every two years. This is contrary to past practices which aimed to kill all mimosa plants in the control program areas. Full production is normally achieved by year 5, with continuing maintenance.

INTEGRATED AND COLLABORATIVE MANAGEMENT The federal National Landcare Program (NLP) has contributed more than $400 000 to this project. The pastoral industry spends $1.2 million each year at a ratio of 10:1 private:public funding on pastoral lands, with a further $1.7 million spent on all other lands. The cost of controlling mimosa varies with density, soil type and location (floodplain or timbered country costs $20–500 per ha). Success of the project to date has relied on the development of integrated

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Figure 10.3: Floodplain on Melaleuca Station showing rehabilitated area (top right)

property management plans for each of the properties involved. The plans, developed with the assistance of the Northern Territory Department of Natural Resources, Environment and the Arts, aim to first control mimosa high in the catchments in order to limit reinfestation in valuable floodplain areas. Restorative work then continues to reclaim crucial grazing areas. This has involved partnership between pastoralists, Aboriginal land managers, local government, the Northern Land Council, the Indigenous Land Corporation and the Northern Territory Cattlemen’s Association. The result is a more cost-effective and efficient weed control strategy which will increase biodiversity protection and productive capacity. The project recognises that a holistic approach is necessary for effective natural resource management. Weed management cannot be viewed in isolation from other land management practices which influence productivity and profitability on the floodplain country. Landowners must manage feral animals, erosion and fire on their properties – pastures which are compromised or stressed by these factors are more susceptible to weed invasion. Mimosa control on Melaleuca Station complements the use of multiple biological control agents, particularly in the remaining areas of high infestation. Twelve potentially damaging insect species and two fungal pathogens are currently being trialled as control methods by the Department of Natural Resources, Environment and the Arts. The addition of biological

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control vectors, if successful, will prove invaluable in supporting existing regrowth control measures and controlling satellite infestations.

SALTWATER INTRUSION The Mary River system does not have a large single outflow to the sea. It has been suggested that prior to 1940 the Mary had practically no outlet, as a series of low sandy ridges (cheniers) formed a physical barrier along the coast. The cheniers, in conjunction with mangrove fringes, effectively separated the freshwater wetlands and coastal waters (Woodroffe et al. 1990). Saltwater intrusion into the wetlands began in the 1940s and accelerated in the 1980s, progressively inundating approximately 240 km2 of the wetland system. The problem is believed to have resulted from crocodile hunters and buffalo shooters explosively breaching the natural rock bars to allow boats to transport goods in and product out of the floodplains. Buffalos have also been implicated in the destruction of ancient chenier ridges at the coast. The Mary River floodplains are now significantly affected by saline intrusion. This kills salt-sensitive vegetation and replaces it with saline mudflat habitat, which in turn is gradually colonised by a salt-tolerant mangrove ecosystem. The dramatically changed environment cannot support cattle grazing or native floodplain fauna. Works to mitigate saline intrusions, including the construction of a network of earthen barrages, have been applied in the Mary River system since the 1980s. The floodplain is notably low-lying, with most of the 50 km wide plain lower than the chenier ridges. Preventing further saltwater intrusion is therefore challenging from both engineering and labour perspectives. Satellite monitoring indicates that these mitigation actions have been effective in many areas but they need constant monitoring and maintenance. Riverbank erosion and propeller damage to earthen barrages continue to risk the passage of salt water into these freshwater systems.

PRODUCTION Melaleuca Staion’s main enterprise is backgrounding (growing livestock to a weight suitable for live export) cattle stock for the live export trade from Darwin to south-east Asia. The floodplain country is the most productive on the property, consisting mainly of heavy black selfmulching soil at or below sea level. In the past these plains were severely degraded by the large numbers of feral buffalo that grazed the area. The subdivision of the original Point Stuart Station improved management of feral animals and the national Brucellosis and Tuberculosis Eradication Campaign (BTEC) assisted in reducing buffalo numbers. The country is now more productive and ecologically intact. However, the continuing management of fire, weeds, saltwater intrusion and feral pigs is vital in maintaining these environmental and productive gains on a sustainable basis. The cattle production system revolves around the wet/dry seasons with the carrying capacity greatly reduced due to flooding. There is normally a feed drought every wet season and during the dry season; production is based on a 26-week period to introduce stock either by trading or on agistment. Trading and agistment stock must be removed from the property prior to wet season flooding. An average weight gain of 4 kg per week is desired. Stock are purchased at an approximate weight of 220–250 kg and turned off the property at 320–350 kg. 106

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Managing floodplains in northern Australia

After 11 years of implementing the Mimosa pigra control program there are now approximately 6000 ha of mimosa under various forms of treatment. The carrying capacity is 4000–5000 head of stock, depending on seasonal conditions, which equates to one beast per 1–4 ha.

CROCODILES Another challenge is stock loss from crocodile predation. Crocodile numbers have increased dramatically since their protection by legislation in 1971 and the implementation of a comprehensive management program. Reduced mimosa infestations on Melaleuca Station have resulted in crocodiles being able to repopulate floodplain areas. To counteract this potential cost, Melaleuca Station is undertaking strictly regulated harvesting of crocodile eggs, which are then provided to crocodile farms for incubation and production. A system to reticulate water to the high fringe areas of the floodplain is also being developed. If successful, stock will be able to drink from troughs rather than have to drink from channels and billabongs where crocodiles may live. This redirection of water should improve cattle growth rates (as stock will not have to drink bird-fouled water), reduce damage to natural watering-points and reduce bogging of and by stock.

BIODIVERSITY Tropical freshwater wetlands are highly productive ecosystems. The geomorphology of the Mary River floodplain has resulted in the formation of an expansive and seasonally long-lasting shallow wetland. This special habitat results in a biodiverse and ecologically valuable natural environment. The high plant productivity and water availability support large and diverse populations of bird, fish and reptile species. Notably, Melaleuca Station has a recorded bird register of 111 identified species, with many still to be recorded. Diversity and abundance of animal populations contribute directly to successful tourism and recreational fishing industries. Cattle numbers in the Mary River district on the floodplains probably exceeds 40 000 head during the dry season. It is therefore imperative that land managers account for the multiple land uses across the catchment. In many instances the balance between production and biodiversity conservation go hand in hand. For example, without a core production base of domestic stock the floodplain would be at risk of hot bushfires from lightning strikes – grazing greatly reduces the fuel load. Hot fires can severely degrade the country, making it unproductive to both stock and native fauna. Similarly, well-managed grazing can stimulate new vegetative growth which is used for feeding and nesting by native animals and birds as well as stock. Second, without the productive and economic capacity to invest in a well-planned mimosa control program, substantial whole-of-ecosystem losses would continue unchecked.

CONCLUSION Successful long-term natural resource management requires continued effort and tenacity to achieve results. Confidence, experience and financial backing are also necessary to achieve visions and goals. Melaleuca Station’s investment in the Mimosa pigra control program and its support for new approaches has taught us several lessons: 107

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s s s s s

don’t be afraid of failure, as valuable lessons are learned from experimenting and trialling new methods and ideas; get involved with neighbours, industry groups and as many partners as possible to exchange ideas and learn about new technology; aim to be benchmarked or set benchmarks in your areas of expertise in order to track progress; landscape restoration by primary producers is an investment for the whole community as it contributes to the ecological integrity and security of the land as well as to productivity; landscape restoration can be very rewarding for the land manager on many levels, in addition to productivity gains.

REFERENCES Natural Resource Management Ministerial Council (2006). Australian Weeds Strategy: a national strategy for weed management in Australia. Dept of Environment and Water Resources: Canberra. Woodroffe CD, Mills K & Knighton AD (1990). Geomorphology of the Mary River plains, Northern Territory. Report to the Conservation Commission of Northern Territory. Geography Dept, University of Wollongong: Wollongong.

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11 The value of biodiversity to integrated pest management Cam Nicholson

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he idea of integrated pest management (IPM) is not new. In the last 50 years, advances in chemistry have created a range of products that vary in cost, efficacy and spectrum of insects killed. This has provided a relatively simple approach to pest management. However, before the development of these synthetic pesticides, reliance on predatory insects and novel farming practices were the most common approach to controlling pests. IPM involves integrating three types of control measures: using naturally occurring invertebrate predators, parasites and pathogens; farm management practices that encourage beneficial species and/or suppress pests; and the strategic use of selective or targeted insecticides (Horne & Page 2008). IPM is not widely practised in broadacre cropping and grazing in south-west Victoria, where the control of pests usually involves broad-spectrum insecticides or baits, generally in response to visual plant damage or to safeguard a crop or pasture against possible attack. This usually provides immediate control of a pest problem but often kills beneficial insects or mites that could provide long-term and ongoing biological control within an IPM program. Insecticide spraying is the common practice, but there is growing interest by farmers and advisors in IPM. Feedback from IPM workshops run by Southern Farming Systems indicates several reasons for this:

s s s s

increasing consumer demand for products grown with minimal or no insecticide use; avoiding insect resistance to current products (most farmers are familiar with herbicide-resistant weeds and don’t want to see this happen with insect pests); reducing the potential hazard to farmers (most hate using pesticides); creating new insect problems when targeting a particular pest (secondary insect flares);

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s

reducing costs (the reduction in chemicals and application costs can be weighed against the additional time required for monitoring).

For IPM to work, farmers require knowledge about the life stages, timing and population dynamics of pests and beneficial species. Based on this knowledge and regular monitoring, strategies can be developed to favour the beneficial species and suppress the pests. This case study describes research carried out in south-west Victoria by Southern Farming Systems, a farmer-managed non-profit research and extension organisation, in partnership with 650 farmers and consultant entomologists (IPM Technologies Pty Ltd). The aim was to find out more about local populations of pests and beneficials as a basis for developing an IPM strategy.

ASPECTS OF DIVERSITY THAT SUPPORT AN IPM APPROACH All crops and pastures have a range of invertebrate species living in them at any time. Most do not cause significant economic damage to the crop or pasture. However, some insects are capable of damaging crops and pastures and become pests by:

s s s s

dramatically increasing in numbers, e.g. lucerne flea (Sminthurus viridis) or red-legged earthmite (Halotydeus destructor); being present when plants are at a vulnerable stage in their lifecycle such as germination or flowering, e.g. slugs; changing feeding habits during their lifecycle, e.g. black-headed cockchafer (Acrossidius tasmaniae); transmitting viral diseases, e.g. barley yellow dwarf virus (BYDV) transmitted by aphids.

IPM is not about eradication of a pest. It is about ensuring there are sufficient beneficial insects to reduce pest populations so they do not cause significant damage to the crop or pasture. Many predators feed on more than one species of prey and so do not depend on just one pest to survive. A low-level population of pests is often required to provide food for some predators and parasitic wasps. There is a range of beneficial species that feed on pests, and one of the first things we needed to do was learn which beneficial insects feed on which pests. It was also important for us to appreciate there are two types of beneficial insects and pests – resident insects and transient insects. Consultant entomologists told us that resident insects such as slugs, earwigs and red-legged earth mites live in the crop or pasture from one year to the next. They are incapable of moving large distances, usually because they are flightless, and successful breeding is the primary reason for an increase in a resident pest population. The same is true for resident beneficial species. Their population is determined by their success in breeding. In contrast, transient pests (and beneficial predators) fly in and infest a paddock. Population increases are usually dramatic, as is their later decline. It is common to see rapid rises in pest populations followed by similarly large increases in beneficial predators a short time later. Some of the common beneficial insects identified as preying on major pests of crop and pasture in our region are listed in Table 11.1. We needed to learn the difference in function and habit of similar-looking insects. For example, we have several species of slugs. Two look very similar and both cause damage in 110

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Table 11.1: Common pests of crops and pastures in south-west Victoria and beneficial species associated with their control Common pest of crops and pasture

Residency

Beneficial species

Aphid (F. aphididae)

Transient

Brown lacewing (Micromus tasmaniae) Ladybird beetles (Harmonia, Coccinella, Hippodamia) Parasitic wasps (Aphidius spp.)

Black-headed cockchafer (Acrossidius tasmaniae)

Resident

Carabid beetle (F. carabidae)

Blue oat mite (Penthalaeus major)

Resident

Predatory mites (Bdellidae and other species) Native earwig (Labidura truncata) Possibly predatory beetles (Carabidae) and true bugs (various Hemiptera)

Diamondback moth (Plutella xylostella)

Transient

Damsel bug (Nabis kinbergii) Parasitic wasps (many species) Harmonia, Coccinella, Hippodamia)

European earwig (Forficula auricularia)

Resident

Carabid beetle (Geoscaptus)

Heliothis caterpillars (Helicoverpa armigera, Helicoverpa punctigera)

Transient

Damsel bug (Nabis kinbergii) Shield bug (Oechaelia schellenbergii) Parasitic wasps (many species)

Lucerne flea (Sminthurus viridis)

Resident

Predatory mites (Bdellidae and other species) Native earwig (Labidura truncata)

Red-legged earth mite (Halotydeus destructor)

Resident

Predatory mites (Bdellidae and other species) Native earwig (Labidura truncata)

Rutherglen bug (Nysius vinitor)

Transient

No known beneficial predators

Slugs (Deroceras reticulatum, Milax gagates) Resident

Carabid beetles (Rhytisternus, Notonomus)

Wireworm, false wireworm (Elateridae and Tenebrionidae spp.)

Carabid beetle (F. carabidae)

Resident

crops, but one can cause 20 times more damage than the other (Milax gagates compared with Decroceras panormitanum). So, instead of thinking, ‘We’ve got slugs and we have got to do something about it’, farmers need to know the type of slug, its lifecycle stage and the stage of the crop before taking action. Similarly, we found out there are different types of earwigs: the European earwig (Forficula auricularia) does a lot of damage to crops, particularly canola; a native earwig (Labidura truncata) controls a lot of pests; and an unnamed earwig locally known as the ‘fatbum earwig’ plays no role in the crop production cycle (Figure 11.1). As a result of our surveys, farmers are reacting differently when they see earwigs. They are now asking whether they are Europeans, natives or fatbums. This is a huge shift. Farmers who typically say ‘I’m not a greenie’ are now down on their hands and knees checking their pitfall traps and working out the ratios of the different species.

QUANTIFYING THE DIVERSITY AND DISTRIBUTION OF BENEFICIAL SPECIES IN CROPS AND PASTURES The distribution and proportion of beneficial species in crop and pasture land in south-west Victoria is poorly understood, yet for IPM to work those species had to be present in sufficient populations for adequate pest control. 111

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Figure 11.1: Entomologist Paul Horne showing farmers specimens of pest and beneficial insects found in crop, pasture and native grassland habitats of south-west Victoria

In 2005 and 2006 IPM Technologies and Agvise Services undertook a survey in an area approximately 50 km west and north-west of Geelong to give some indication of the distribution of some beneficial species in different ecosystems across the region. Four different grassy ecosystems were surveyed: winter crops such as wheat, barley and canola; improved exotic pasture; ‘native pasture’ as identified by the participating farmers; and remnant native grassland on roadsides which had experienced minimal disturbance from cultivation or grazing. Details of the experimental method, site locations, sampling period and detailed findings are described in Nicholson and Horne (2007). A selection of five carabid beetles and one native earwig were chosen for analysis. These are regarded as key species that prey on many common agricultural pests such as caterpillars, aphids, earwigs, slugs and possibly mites. The five carabid species (Rhytisternus liopleurus, Notonomus gravis, Geoscaptus spp., Sarticus spp. and Promocoderus spp.) were chosen due to their presence in an earlier survey (Horne 2007). Two earwig species were observed, the predatory native earwig (Labidura truncate) and the European earwig (Forficula auricularia), a known pest in canola. Carabid beetles and native earwigs captured over 12 months were used to compare sites based on previous research (Horne, pers. comm.) which indicated that ‘year catch’ (total insects captured in 12 months) is a good measure of carabid beetle and earwig populations.

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In 37% of the crop and pasture sites, few or no carabid species or native earwigs were recorded. In the remaining 63% of sites where beneficial species were captured, the relative proportion of each carabid subspecies depended on the ecosystem type. The remnant native grassland contained four of the five carabid subspecies (Figure 11.2). Promecoderus spp. was recorded at each site in reasonable proportions (30–60% of the total catch). However, the total number of species was low in contrast to collections from the pasture and crop paddocks. The remnant native grassland sites had a fraction of the total of any key species found in crop or pasture habitats. For example, one remnant grassland site at Shelford had a total catch of 35 carabid beetles and earwigs compared to a total catch of 364 in the adjacent cropping paddock. The cropping paddocks were dominated by one subspecies of carabid (Rhytisternus) and the beneficial native earwig (Labidura truncate) (Figure 11.2). All sites had significant populations of these two species and they were the significant subspecies present. In contrast, the improved pasture paddocks were dominated by a different subspecies of carabid beetle (Promecoderus). This beetle was found at all sites and ranged between 17% and 92% of the total beneficial carabid and earwig populations (Figure 11.2). Similar to the cropping sites, the abundance of beneficial species in one pasture site (Ballan) was approximately 10 times higher than a nearby native remnant grassland. The fourth ecosystem type was identified by participating farmers. This was an unimproved grassland paddock (referred to as a ‘native’ paddock). The abundance of each beneficial species was measured and compared to the remnant native grassland, crop and pasture profiles. Four of the five profiles more closely matched the numbers and proportions found on improved perennial pastures, not the roadside native vegetation sites. A fifth native grassland site at Warrambeen contained the common pasture carabid beetles Promecoderus and Geoscaptus but in numbers 20 times lower than the average of the other native grassland sites. It more closely matched the remnant native grassland profile. A botanical analysis was conducted on the farmer-selected native paddocks. Most of these nominal native paddocks were found to actually be dominated by exotic annual grasses and broadleaf plants. In contrast, at Warrambeeen the plant composition was 66% native species including wallaby-grass (Austrodanthonia spp.), kangaroo grass (Themeda australis), pink bindweed (Convolvulus spp.), sheep’s burr (Acaena ovina), bluebell (Wahlenbergia spp.), snowgrass (Poa spp.) and small scurf-pea (Cullen parvum). Collections during the study clearly showed that crops, pasture and remnant native vegetation contain different types and abundance of carabid beetle and native earwigs, enabling a population profile to be established. The reasons for the difference are speculative, but they may include insecticide use, herbicide use, crop rotation or changing habitat structure. Altered habitat structure such as changing from tussocks to crop stubble or to heavily grazed pasture will modify habitat complexity. While this change in habitat structure is obvious and may be the dominant factor, the additional reasons are also likely to contribute to the resulting invertebrate composition. The relative influence of these factors is yet to be determined. Remnant native grasslands contained a greater diversity of carabid beetles but in much lower numbers than the cropping or pasture paddocks sampled. This finding has four important implications. The first is that the number of beneficial individuals is unlikely to be sufficient for direct biological control in adjacent paddocks; they are likely to be outnumbered by the pests residing in the crop or pasture.

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Abundance (%)

(a)

RHYTISTERNUS

NOTONOMUS

GEOSCAPTUS

SARTICUS

PROMECODERUS

LABIDURA

RHYTISTERNUS

NOTONOMUS

GEOSCAPTUS

SARTICUS

PROMECODERUS

LABIDURA

RHYTISTERNUS

NOTONOMUS

GEOSCAPTUS

SARTICUS

PROMECODERUS

LABIDURA

Abundance (%)

(b)

Abundance (%)

(c)

Figure 11.2: The relative abundance of five beneficial carabid beetles and the earwig Labidura. (a) At three roadside remnant native grassland sites. (b) At seven cropping sites. (c) At seven pasture sites

The second is that at least one species of resident carabid beetle and earwig found in remnant native grassland is favoured by the environment created by cropping or pasture. These individual species are likely to move out of the native vegetation areas and breed successfully in the crop or pasture (assuming other actions are also taken to avoid killing them in the crop or pasture). This will eventually increase numbers in the crop or pasture to a level sufficient for some natural pest control. Third, maintenance of remnant native grasslands and establishment of new areas of native grasslands is important to provide a reservoir of beneficial insects to repopulate crop and pasture areas.

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Figure 11.3: Farmers examining plots of native grassland pasture established as refuges for beneficial insects on cropping farms in western Victoria

Finally, it appears unwise to conclude that every location referred to locally as native pasture will necessarily have the same characteristics as remnant native grassland in good condition and therefore be a good source of native biodiversity, especially of the key beneficial species discussed here.

TURNING FARMERS ON TO BIODIVERSITY THROUGH IPM The farmers involved in this study became interested in IPM but as their farming system involves rotations (changing paddocks from crops to pastures) they needed some way of repopulating those pasture and crop paddocks. They came to realise that remnant native grassland or newly established stands of native grassland can act as pools or reservoirs for repopulation. As a consultant, the exciting bit for me was having farmers ask, ‘How do I re-establish these native grasslands around my farm? I’ve only got a small patch left. How do I get it somewhere else on the farm?’ This is a very different approach from the purely conservation view, which is to protect the little bits left for their own sake. This view recognises the role of native grasslands as a refuge and source of beneficial insects; farmers are now trying to re-establish this once-dominant ecosystem strategically around their farms. This is a significant change in thinking for a large number of farmers, certainly in south-west Victoria. Some of these farmers are now practising full IPM on more than 2000 acres on their farms, with both crops and pastures.

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To assess the response of farmers in south-west Victoria, the Grain & Graze program (Grain & Graze 2007) invited six farmers who pioneered the application of IPM to broadacre farming in that region to explain their interest in the approach. These selected quotes provide some insight into the future of IPM and the opportunity to turn biodiversity and native vegetation into an accepted part of mainstream farming. Full transcripts can be found in Nicholson (2006). I have been concerned for some time about the amount of chemicals we use in our cropping program. So when Agvise approached me with a proposal to start using IPM, and having the outline of the methods used in IPM explained to me, I thought that this is a very positive step in the right direction and we should be involved. The main reasons for implementing the IPM program have been insects becoming resistant to chemicals, the damage insecticides do to the environment, the financial benefit of not having to spray insects, by encouraging natural predators to deal with the problems pests, and improving the farm environment (James Richardson, ‘Terrinallum’, Darlington). We became interested in an IPM approach due to our ongoing effort to continually become more environmentally friendly. We were worried that over time ‘spraying the s*** out of everything’ probably wasn’t the best thing to do. We were concerned about a pest, in this case aphids, building up a resistance to the chemical and the chemical residue levels that may be passed on to the consumer of the grain, in this case the pigs. We didn’t think that we could continue farming using these practices and also liked the idea of less work, and letting mother nature do some of the work for me so that I could have the weekends off (Stephen Menze, cropping manager for Charles IFE Piggeries near Ballarat). I am not a Greenie. My previous approach has been ‘The only good bug is a dead bug’. After observing the amount of herbicide resistance happening in farming I decided a new approach was necessary. Frequent applications of insecticides would lead to similar situation in our pests. Weeds don’t have predators but insects do, so it seemed a natural progression to try and harness these whereever possible. IPM has become a fundamental part of our farming practice and it is our intention to expand its application across our entire cropping operation as our knowledge and confidence grows (John Hamilton, ‘Leighview’ Inverleigh). I have slowly come to realise that, in the main, killing bugs with a boom spray doesn’t work. When you start to think that some insects are eating other insects and not your crop you have a whole different outlook! Balance is the key and you will not achieve it with a boom spray (Robert Meek, ‘Strathleigh’, Shelford).

CONCLUSION This chapter shows that the IPM approach is an enormous opportunity to engage mainstream farmers in biodiversity in a way that means something to them and their farm business. There are direct benefits to profitability, with gross margins improving at $10–20 per hectare at paddock-scale up to a gain of $30 000 a year over a farm that has moved to full IPM. But it is

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more than just the economic benefits. Managing and improving diversity is now a passion for these farmers and many more are following. This work has led to an IPM course being offered in south-west Victoria (www.rist.com.au) which is giving farmers, consultants and advisors the skills and confidence they need to try IPM.

REFERENCES Grain & Graze (2007). http://grainandgraze.com.au/. Accessed 24 November 2007. Horne PA (2007). Carabids as potential indicators of sustainable farming. Australian Journal of Experimental Agriculture 47, 455–459. Horne PA & Page J (2008). Integrated pest management for crops and pastures. Landlinks Press: Melbourne. Nicholson C (2006). Integrated pest management in cropping and pastures: the principles of IPM and grower stories. Southern Farming Systems: Newtown, Victoria. Nicholson C & Horne P (2007). The abundance and distribution of beneficial predators to achieve integrated pest management (IPM) in crops and pasture. In Southern Farming Systems trial results 2006 (ed. C Hacking), pp. 216–224. Newtown, Victoria.

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12 Using production improvements to interest farmers in nature conservation David Walker and Rob Frend

T

his chapter describes how the Liverpool Plains Land Management Committee has tried to encourage a balance between production and conservation. After a brief description of where we come from and who we are, we describe how land management tenders were developed as an incentive to better management, what they have delivered from a participant’s perspective and what we have learnt so far. The Liverpool Plains in north-east New South Wales (Figure 12.1) are dominated by black basalt alluvial soils and sedimentary soils. The basalt soils are some of the most productive and fertile agricultural soils in the world and the floodplain is underlain by extensive freshwater alluvial aquifers. The Liverpool Plains is renowned as the centre of sorghum production in Australia, and is a significant producer of durum or hard wheat along with bread wheat, cotton, barley and beef cattle. The Liverpool Plains covers an area of 1.2 million ha and has about 2000 landholders. The Liverpool Plains Land Management Committee (LPLMC) is a community organisation started by farmers in 1992 and run by farmers. It was set up in response to problems that became impossible to ignore after a series of wet years – flooding, waterlogging and erosion. Once established, LPLMC convened a number of community meetings and consultations which resulted in the identification of six natural resource issues – water quality and quantity, salinity, flood plain management, biodiversity, riparian zone management and soil conservation. The emphasis is on developing actions to address these issues. We were fortunate that during the early 1990s we were a focal catchment for the National Dryland Salinity Program (NDSP 2005) which saw the Plains become the focus of a significant research effort by CSIRO, state government agencies and universities, particularly on

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Figure 12.1: Location of the Liverpool Plains

hydrogeology and groundwater, soil survey and mapping, using crops and pastures to manage rising water tables, farming impacts on water quality, agroforestry and landscape processes. The outcomes of the various research projects were promoted to the Liverpool Plains community through a number of community meetings and forums (LPLMC 1995, 1996, 1998; Acworth & Jankowski 1997; Moore & Acworth 1997; Timms 1997; Cresswell et al. 1998; Young et al. 1998a, b; Kalaitzis et al. 2000; Laffan 2001; Merrick 2003; Acworth & Kelly 2005; Andersen & Acworth 2006; Timms & Acworth 2006). The research advocated a set of relatively simple solutions to complex problems: improved crop management and rotations, improved groundcover including an increased proportion of perennial plants in the landscape, waterway restoration, and tree planting and management. These actions are all pretty straightforward and logical. We have learnt through this process that good natural resource management isn’t necessarily complex. The issues, and the actions required to address them, were incorporated into the comprehensive catchment investment strategy which is the basis for all LPLMC activities.

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Table 12.1: Natural resource issues and actions for the Liverpool Plains Dryland salinity and groundwater

Flooding

Soil erosion

Water quality and quantity

Biodiversity

Managing Riparian terrestrial zone carbon

Employ response cropping systems

Optimum tree cover and/or farm forestry

Maintain groundcover

Restore natural floodways

Manage crop rotations and use minimum till

Table 12.1 shows the original six natural resource management issues and the five actions designed to address them, with the more recent addition of climate change (carbon sequestration) as a seventh issue. We were pretty happy with this approach, particularly in that the five actions addressed multiple issues. For example, it was suggested that response (or opportunity) cropping would influence dryland salinity and deep drainage, flooding, soil erosion and water quality and be beneficial for biodiversity (healthy, non-saline soils are biodiverse soils). Response cropping refers to the practice of planting a crop when soil moisture content reaches a trigger level, compared to the previous practice of set periods of fallow moisture conservation (Abbs & Littleboy 1998; Ringrose-Voase et al. 2003). It looked like this approach would give the results we were looking for, as long as we could get the changes carried out on the ground. For biodiversity, the aim was to achieve nature conservation goals as part of productive agriculture. We weren’t looking to set aside degraded farmland but to make our land productive while maintaining the conservation attributes. We needed to integrate farming systems with landscape-scale nature conservation. Research efforts focused on combining conservation and productive agriculture, and application of the focal species approach (Lambeck 1997; Lindenmayer et al. 2002) has identified the attributes of areas of remnant vegetation likely to be most conducive to habitat restoration (Ekert 2005).

LAND MANAGEMENT TENDERS Land management tenders are a system of auctions that enables the LPLMC to purchase services from landholders resulting in multiple outcomes that are beneficial to the environment. For instance, we were looking to purchase activities that would improve biodiversity and water quality as well as reduce the risk of salinity on individual farms. First, the LPLMC provided information to landholders, through workshops and field days, about the target issues and how the auction process works. We provided information on landscape function such as the causes of salinity in the landscape, why groundcover is important and why biodiversity is important – not only to individual landholders in terms of having a diverse and resilient system, but also to the wider community looking for nature conservation outcomes. We then helped landholders to develop on-farm projects to address the issues affecting their own

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farms. When the projects are submitted farmers nominate a price – this is the ‘bid’ they make for the ‘ecosystem services’ they are providing. LPLMC looked at the projects that landholders submitted, estimated the magnitude of the change (and environmental benefit) that the project would deliver and ranked them in order of greatest community benefit and best value for taxpayer dollars, using the Environmental Benefits Index (EBI) described below. After contracts are signed we ensure that the projects are properly implemented and well-managed. The EBI is a site-based index that scores each environmental issue addressed by a project (salinity, biodiversity, water quality) using multiple attributes for each issue. For example, the assessment of the biodiversity benefits of a project includes scores for the quality and size of vegetation remnants involved, the connectivity and distance to other remnants, the conservation status of flora and fauna, the time period of the agreement, the technical merit of the project and the extent of management change proposed. The EBI incorporates the best available scientific knowledge and provides transparency for our decision-making process. The index is evidence of our objectivity in deciding which projects to fund. Our experience is that landholders have been happy with this approach. The EBI is calculated by summing the index for each issue as shown below. EBI =

salinity + biodiversity + water quality $bid

The EBI was developed for the Liverpool Plains with considerable input from the experience of the Bush Tender scheme in Victoria (Stoneham et al. 2000), which in turn was partly based on elements of the Conservation Reserve Program in the US (USDA 1997). Management agreements with the successful landholders were developed and signed. Milestones were set with associated payments – landholders aren’t paid all the funding upfront. The aim is to have a contract of 10 years with a minimum of at least five years, with payment at milestones over three to five years. To date, three rounds of land management tenders have been run (2001, 2003 and 2005) with $1 441 000 of direct funding from the Australian government’s Natural Heritage Trust, matched at a rate of 3:1 by landholders who have contributed a total of $4.5 million (Table 12.2). As the tenders have rolled out there has been an increasing emphasis from landholders on nature conservation. In Round 1, 29% of the projects incorporated nature conservation. This rose to 35% in Round 2 and over 65% in Round 3. The area of land involved in nature conservation projects also increased markedly, from 176 ha in Round 1 to 371 ha in Round 2 and 1380 ha in Round 3. We largely attribute this to landholders becoming more familiar and comfortable with the process. In Round 3 there were 37 projects approved: 24 involved management of native pasture on 4621 ha, 21 included planting of trees and shrubs on 125 ha and 24 involved protecting or regenerating native vegetation on 1255 ha. Table 12.2: Land management tenders and what they have delivered Applicants

Successful

Tender $

Estimated landholder $

Round 1

25

17

300 000

1 110 000

Round 2

26

17

430 000

1 943 000

Round 3 Total

59

37

711 000

1 535 000

109

71

1 441 000

4 588 000

Ratio: $1 from taxpayer to $3+ from landholder.

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LESSONS LEARNT The most significant lessons are that it is vital to provide clear and simple information to landholders, and to do it in groups. Our farmers are specialists in producing beef, sheep and grain. Producing biodiversity and environmental outcomes is not their core business. In order to get them involved in programs such as the land management tenders we have to help them understand what the wider community wants (and is prepared to pay for) and also to understand the landscape processes involved in their productivity and sustainability issues. Our motto is: ‘We are buying any management change and on-ground action that reduces the risk of salinity, improves biodiversity and water quality on your farm and in the catchment’. Field days are very important in providing understanding of landscape processes, for example, ‘What is the biodiversity of this region? How does salt move in the landscape?’ A common thread running through the case studies is the power of group learning and the benefit of getting people together to share knowledge. During the land management tender process, information was provided at introductory meetings, in written material and at field days. In our experience, people who are waverers or uncommitted often decided to have a go after participating in a field day. We consider that it is a mistake in the process of regionalising natural resource management, certainly in New South Wales, to put too much focus on dealing one-on-one with farmers. We believe the regions are neglecting the power that comes from group learning. Property planning workshops are one example of how the LPLMC has used group learning so that farmers can see how the issues being talked about affect their properties and how they can address them. These workshops are also used to help farmers develop their bids for land management tenders. Another lesson is that changes are often relatively simple and frequently benefit the environment and the farmer. For example, we have seen many instances of farmers locked into cropping on light, low-fertility soils. The cropping enterprise is unprofitable and the landscape suffers from increased run-off, sedimentation and salt mobilisation. They are locked in because the infrastructure costs and the income forgone in changing to native perennial pastures are more than they can afford. The tender funding contributes to these costs, for example enabling a landholder to install the fencing and watering points and easing the cash flow ‘drought’ while pastures establish. The landholder is thereby helped to make the change to a more sustainable, profitable and stress-free enterprise, and the wider community benefits from a healthier landscape with reduced erosion and salinity, and improved water quality and biodiversity. A similar win–win can result when a landholder is helped to implement changes to grazing management. Additional fencing and watering points facilitate longer rest periods in the lead-up to increased groundcover, plant diversity, better use of rainfall, improved water quality and reduced erosion. Further, research has shown that in the higher rainfall areas of the catchment, even with response cropping, deep drainage on the heavy alluvial soils is still significant and salt mobilisation unavoidable (Cresswell et al. 1998). Tender funding has enabled a number of landholders to establish deep-rooted perennial pastures that can intercept and use the rainfall. A number of such projects have involved moving livestock watering points away from streams so that vegetation is able to regenerate in riparian zones, thereby providing significant biodiversity benefits. In other cases, funding for changed management to enhance productivity and sustainability has been balanced by the setting aside of areas of remnant vegetation to be used under

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habitat-friendly grazing management, giving specific nature conservation outcomes. Examples include fencing rivers and creeks with subdivision resulting in alternative watering points, better management (less livestock escapes), better pasture use and hence increased productivity, with community benefits from water quality and biodiversity improvements. Farmers who get assistance with pasture improvement have shown that they are prepared to set aside lessproductive land. The LPLMC has also learnt to incorporate a number of measurements into the EBI, including biodiversity benefits, to assess and rank projects such as those outlined above. Finding the balance between detailed measurements for scientific rigour and practicality is one of the muchdebated issues when setting up an EBI. Improvements in biodiversity can have many faces, from better groundcover gradually allowing for improved soil health and increased soil biota, to riparian zones having good bank cover of native multi-storey vegetation, to grazing paddocks having good stands of rare native perennial grasses such as the tall oat grass (Themeda avenaceae). Having sufficient staff to run the program is essential, as are establishing clear project assessment criteria before talking to farmers and having simple but robust measurements for monitoring projects. Regular visits are also important, to provide support and staging projects for ease of management and payment. We have learnt that landholders really appreciate accountability. There is a lot of talk about government funds going out and never being seen again. Farmers are embarrassed by that talk and appreciate being able to demonstrate that they are accountable, that there are expectations and they are meeting their milestones.

CASE STUDY: ROB FREND, ‘DIMBEROY’ I love a sunburnt country, a land of sweeping plains … But hey, I would love to restore it To the way John Oxley saw it Its former biodiversity as far as the eye can see With tendered bucks from the LPLMC Tall oat grass swards in abundance interspersed with native legumes. The current custodian, a crazy white fella. (With apologies to Dorothea Mackellar) My wife and I were successful land management tenderers from Round 2, 2003. At the end of the 1990s and into the new century I was becoming increasingly disillusioned with grain production and wanted to specialise in grass and beef production. The nature of our tender was to convert 780 ha of cropping country to predominantly native pasture and to redesign grazing management on a further 130 ha, making a total project area of 910 ha. These changes were in harmony with the remainder of our 2090 ha property. The project could best be described as extensive rather than intensive with changes mainly in management together with capital expenses for stock watering, fencing and fertiliser. Why native pastures? We have been practitioners of cell grazing and holistic management since 1993 and believe our local provenance of grasses and legumes are good for ruminants and truly sustainable (Parsons 1993; Savory 1999). After 14 years, we can see changes in species

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Figure 12.2: Using cattle to restore grassland biodiversity

composition from our practice of allowing pastures adequate time to recover after grazing. Introduced species are expensive, commonly $200/ha to establish, and often have significant maintenance expenses. Not many people consider the other social, economic and environmental costs of introducing exotic species. You’ve only got to think of Coolatai grass (Hyparrhenia hirta) in our area, where it has virtually become a monoculture. This grass was originally introduced for soil stabilisation but is now invading pasture areas, where it is avoided by stock due to its unpalatability. Our goal is to achieve a complex community of native plants that will respond to rain any time of the year. The broad aims of our land management tender project were to address the real causes of erosion, improve water quality and restore some grassland biodiversity. We proposed to achieve the last aim by first converting all the cropping country to predominantly native pasture. Second, to dramatically improve the way the animals graze these pastures, which is significant for managing species diversity and groundcover. Third, to strategically place watering points to minimise the ill-effects of cattle tracks and campsites in fragile areas. To achieve this we used cattle as the main tool to translocate seed via hides, hooves and dung to former cropping paddocks from adjacent remnant native grass areas. We achieved this by simultaneously grazing small areas of both native pasture and ex-cropping paddocks to achieve a homogenous pasture mix. Short graze periods followed by long recovery periods were foremost in our planning. Remnant tall oat grass (Themeda avenacea) stands were fenced off to allow maximum seed regeneration. This seed was then harvested, initially with a brush harvester then for the last three years with our old header, then spread.

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Figure 12.2 encapsulates everything we are trying to do with cattle as the primary tool. In the floor of the valley, there is native pasture. There was water on the right-hand side and, when we were set stocking, the cattle used to graze up and down that paddock as it was then. We have removed the fence – the ground in the foreground is former cropping country. We now have an electric fence running down the left-hand side and the cattle move through daily, making a new selection then walking back to water. In the right foreground is the previous day’s grazing. There is a lot of plant base left but the cattle prefer to eat fresh grass. The ‘before’ and ‘after’ photographs in Figure 12.3 show what we have achieved. The first was taken when we were tendering and shows a former trough location. It was fine – in 1912 under set stocking when there was little farming further up the valley. Then farming intensified to include about 1000 ha immediately upslope of this scene, and a lot of water now moves overland (in the middle ground). It was a disaster waiting to happen. Our idea was to move the trough up the slope. The ‘after’ photograph shows the area now with good groundcover. The gully shown in Figure 12.4 has been a major problem. It was not there prior to 1980. After 1980 land further upslope was cleared for cropping, increasing overland flow and erosion. To sum up progress: we have completed the capital works with new watering points and pipelines installed, permanent and temporary electric fences completed and a highly eroded gully stabilised. Another area of progress is the proliferation of native pastures. In general, the red soils have been colonised by native species more quickly than the black soils, which we think is a function of the hydrology of the two soil types, particularly field capacity and wilting points. Queensland bluegrass (Dicanthium sericeum) and danthonia (Austrodanthonia linkii) are readily visible as pioneer species. My special interest is tall oat grass (Themeda avenacea), which is nearly extinct. It is rare on farms in the district, but remnant clumps can be found along roadsides. It is a well-adapted local provenance and therefore does not require fertiliser. The only inputs are water and planned grazing. Cattle just love it, green or dry. With set stocking it is easy to see why it has been grazed nearly to extinction. We harvested about 1 m3 of seed material with a brush harvester in 2003, about 6 m3 with our old header in 2004 and about 2 m3 in 2005 (we lost a lot of seed due to wind between Christmas and New Year) and another 6 m3 in 2006. Learning how to spread the seed has involved a steep learning curve. We found it best to take the seed from the header, place it into a tractor frontendloader then dribble the seed over the leading edge to dry in the paddock. It is very hard seed and only comes out of dormancy after two years. Patience is an absolute necessity. With native pasture establishment, it is vital to overcome the European habit of expecting immediacy – we were very excited in 2007 to find several stands in a 5 ha area sown during 2003. Other exciting species are the native legumes abundant in remnant native pastures, but yet to proliferate in the former cropping country. These include emu-foot (Cullen tenax), a couple of glycines (Glycine clandestine and Glycine tabacina) and Rhyncosia minima. Consider the possibilities for carbon accumulation in the future. Our vision for biodiversity and increased production sees the entire property as a patchwork of tall oat grass interspersed with native legumes. If tall oat grass were more widespread we could easily double our stock numbers. Tall oat grass may not represent maximum possible production, but because it comes freely as a local provenance it represents optimum, achievable, sustainable and regenerative production. I must emphasise we do not want a monoculture; we want a complex community of native plants that will respond to rain any time of the year. If tall oat grass returns in prolific numbers

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Figure 12.3: Improving groundcover through relocation of stock watering points

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Figure 12.4: Controlling erosion by manipulating stock access

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Figure 12.5: Rob Frend in 2007 in a stand of endemic tall oat grass (Themeda avenacea), which has been harvested for seed since 2003

so will other species. That will be the best indicator that the habitat closely approximates what John Oxley saw in 1818 (Whitehead 2004). If incentive programs are a mechanism to effect environmental change, then I recommend the land management tender approach adopted by the LPLMC as an excellent model. The process has accommodated the needs and limitations of each individual farm entity, earned the respect, confidence and trust of landholders and is enabling outcomes of mutual benefit. We have received assistance to change our enterprise mix and address our immediate environmental problems. In return we are providing cleaner water and cleaner air, reducing damage to public infrastructure such as roads, and enhancing native biodiversity.

CONCLUSION LPLMC experience has shown that we need to understand how our landscape operates, work out the major issues and how we can address them, and engage with landholders on the basis of mutual respect. We also need to make sure landholders understand what they are being asked to provide. Biodiversity is not necessarily their core business and, in achieving community goals, they are often being asked to effectively introduce a new enterprise. Second, funding bodies have an obligation to ensure that landholders achieve as much as they can with limited public funds. Money for the environment is in short supply and with the ageing population is probably going to be even harder to find, so leveraging $3 of landholder investment for every taxpayer dollar is an outstanding achievement.

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Finally, farmers must be profitable and productive before we can ask them to think about contributing to nature conservation.

REFERENCES Abbs K & Littleboy M (1998). Recharge estimation for the Liverpool Plains. Australian Journal of Soil Reserach 36, 335–357. Acworth RI & Jankowski J (1997). The relationship between bulk electrical conductivity and dryland salinity in the Narrabri Formation at Breeza, Liverpool Plains, New South Wales, Australia. Hydrogeology Journal 5, 109–123. Acworth RI & Kelly BFJ (2005). Time lapse electrical resistivity imaging to detect water movement beneath irrigated crops. In Where waters meet: proceedings of the NZHS-IAH-NZSSS conference (eds RI Acworth, G Macky & N Merrick), Auckland, 29 November–1 December 2005. New Zealand Hydrological Society: Wellington. Andersen MS & Acworth RI (2006). Preliminary investigations of surface-water groundwater interactions in the Maules Creek catchment, Namoi Valley, NSW, Australia. In Proceedings of the Joint Congress of 9th Australasian Environmental Isotope Conference and 2nd Australasian Hydrogeology Research Conference. Adelaide, 13–15 December 2006. Cresswell H, Young R, Bernardi A, Keating B, Ringrose-Voase A, Huth N, Paydar Z & Holland J (1998). Alternative cropping systems to reduce deep drainage on an Australian vertisol. Agronomy Abstracts, 275. Ekert PA (2005). Supplementary bird surveys and focal species analysis for the Liverpool Plains. Liverpool Plains Land Management Committee: Gunnedah, NSW. Kalaitzis P, Banks R, Banks V & Merrick N (2000). Optimising groundwater usage to mitigate native vegetation decline in the Namoi Valley, NSW. Report 2, LWWRDC Project NDW23. Laffan SW (2001). Use water where it falls – leave salt where it is. NSW Dept of Agriculture: Tocal. Lambeck RJ (1997). Focal species: a multi-species umbrella for nature conservation. Conservation Biology 11, 849–856. Lindenmayer DB, Manning AD, Smith PL, Possingham HP, Fischer J, Oliver I & McCarthy MA (2002). The focal-species approach and landscape restoration: a critique. Conservation Biology 16, 338–345. LPLMC (1995). Making catchment management happen. In Proceedings of the conference held at Gunnedah, May 1995. LPLMC (1996). Progress in catchment management. In Proceedings of the conference held at Gunnedah, September 1996. LPLMC (1998). Water balance and agriculture research forum. In Proceedings of the conference held at Gunnedah, September 1998. LPLMC (2001). Liverpool Plains Catchment Investment Strategy. Merrick N (2003). Optimising groundwater usage to mitigate native vegetation decline in the Namoi Valley, NSW. Report 3, LWWRDC Project NDW23. Moore M & Acworth I (1997). Liverpool Plains salinity mapping: progress report. In Proceedings of international workshop on radar image processing and applications. University of New South Wales, Sydney, 6–8 November 1995. CSIRO Office of Space Science and Applications. NDSP (2005). http://www.ndsp.gov.au/. Accessed 24 November 2007.

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Parsons SD (1993). Putting profit into grazing. Ranch Management Consultants: Fairfield, California. Ringrose-Voase A, Young R, Paydar Z, Huth N, Bernardi A, Cresswell H, Keating B, Scott J, Stauffacher M, Banks R, Holland J, Johnston R, Green T, Gregory L, Daniels I, Farquharson R, Drinkwater R, Heidenreich S & Donaldson S (2003). Deep drainage under different land uses in the Liverpool Plains catchment: recharge estimation for the Liverpool Plains. Report 3, Agricultural Resource Management Report Series, Dept ofAgriculture NSW: Sydney. Savory A (1999). Holistic management: a new framework for decision making. Island Press: Washington DC. Stoneham G, Crowe M, Platt S, Chaudhri V, Soligo J & Strappazzon L (2000). Mechanisms for biodiversity conservation on private land. Dept of Primary Industry Victoria: Melbourne. Timms W (1997). Managing the total groundwater system on the Liverpool Plain, NSW: the relationship between shallow saline groundwaters and confined alluvial aquifers. Murray–Darling Basin Commission workshop, Toowoomba, 26–28 August 1997. Timms W & Acworth I (2006). Aquifers and aquitards below the Liverpool Plains. In Coal mining and the Liverpool Plains, Plains Talk 33, 6–7. USDA (1997). Conservation reserve program. US Dept of Agriculture. Farm Services Agency PA–1603. Whitehead J (2004). Tracking and mapping the explorers. Vol. 2, pp. 220–243: Oxley and Evans 1818. Young R, Bernardi A, Holland J, Daniells I, Cresswell H, Ringrose-Voase A & Paydar Z (1998a). Cropping and pasture systems to manage groundwater on the Liverpool Plains 1. Soil and water storage under long and short fallow cropping systems and perennial pastures. In Proceedings of the productive use and rehabilitation of saline land conference, 9–13 March, Tamworth, NSW. Young R, Bernardi A, Holland J, Daniels I, Paydar Z, Ringrose-Voase A & Cresswell H (1998b). Water use efficiency of cropping and pasture systems on the Hudson site. In Proceedings of water balance and agriculture in the Liverpool Plains catchment, 22–23 September, Gunnedah, NSW.

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13 Testing market-based instruments for conservation in northern Victoria Carla Miles

L

arge-scale changes to the landscape are required to address escalating natural resource management problems in many parts of rural Australia. Ongoing biodiversity decline, exacerbated by climate change, has forced us to consider how we achieve large-scale protection and restoration of native vegetation. Rapidly changing demographics and land use in many parts of rural Australia present further risks and opportunities. Catchment management authorities in Victoria have set resource condition targets (RCTs) to improve the condition (extent and quality) of native vegetation. While we are in our infancy in understanding how to set precise targets for native vegetation, the targets are a useful reference point for understanding progress. We at least know that the scale of on-ground native vegetation works needed to arrest biodiversity decline is much larger than has been achieved historically. This demands we consider a wide range of policy and on-ground options. With funding support from the Australian government’s National Action Plan for Salinity and Water Quality, the Bush Returns project was developed and began implementation in the Goulburn Broken Catchment of Victoria in 2005. The aim was to test a new approach to achieving large-scale increases in the extent of native vegetation on private land. This ongoing project involves paying landholders to actively manage their land for 10 years, with the intent of naturally regenerating native vegetation across large areas.

BACKGROUND Thirty per cent of native vegetation remains in the Goulburn Broken Catchment. The majority is restricted to the mountainous public land regions in the south of the catchment. In the

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Figure 13.1: Location of the Goulburn Broken Catchment in northern Victoria

central and north of the catchment, large areas of the landscape have been extensively cleared (Victorian Riverina bioregion 97% cleared; northern inland slopes bioregion 89% cleared) and support relictual, senescing remnant vegetation and areas of degraded native pasture. Much of the potential to achieve landscape change lies with improved private land management, where that is the predominant land tenure. In landscapes that retain some level of natural resilience (i.e. sufficient and viable seed sources across landscapes with a history of low phosphorus application, cultivation and livestock grazing) a potentially cheap and effective method of revegetation may well be natural regeneration. One of the major factors inhibiting natural regeneration of native vegetation, however, is grazing pressure. Typically, grazing land within the Goulburn Broken Catchment is characterised by large old scattered trees. Research by Dorrough and Moxham (2005) across select farms in central Victoria suggested that under current patterns of tree cover (2.7%), 40% of the total area had a high probability of supporting natural regeneration in the absence of livestock grazing. However, due to paddock tree decline through natural senescence, this could be reduced to 18% of total farm area if no management action is taken in the next 30 years. The Goulburn Broken Catchment Management Authority (GBCMA) and its partner organisations (e.g. Department of Primary Industries) currently provide financial incentives to landholders to change the management of parts of their land, in the form of grants for fencing and revegetation. The incentives provide a cost-sharing arrangement between the landholder and government to fence patches of remnant vegetation, enhance the condition of remnants and revegetate previously cleared areas with indigenous vegetation. Financial incentives for installing off-stream watering points are also provided, as part of the GBCMA’s Waterways grant program. These incentives aim to address biodiversity decline, river health and salinity.

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While the GBCMA’s annual reports (e.g. GBCMA 2006) have recognised since the mid 1990s that the incentives have resulted in on-ground changes to vegetation condition and been instrumental in raising community awareness and capacity, it is necessary to more than triple current annual levels of on-ground works to reach the GBCMA’s 2030 target for vegetation extent. An investigation by the Australian National Audit Office (2001) of similar on-ground activities funded by the Natural Heritage Trust nationwide found that, although achieving attitudinal shift, the activities had little potential to lead to broad-scale, long-term landscape outcomes. At the beginning of this decade a number of research projects in the Goulburn Broken Catchment identified that alternative approaches were needed to achieve significant landscape change. Lockwood et al. (2001) identified that the range of opportunities and policy instruments at the time failed to achieve sufficient revegetation or adequate adoption of best management practices. Alexandra (2002, 2003) concluded that rates of positive land use change were insufficient to stop the decline in catchment health and that new approaches were needed. Lockwood et al. (2001) emphasised that the decline in dominant enterprises such as sheep and cattle grazing, and hence destocking trends, could give rise to opportunities for achieving substantial land use change through natural regeneration and land purchase. Even with changed management of these areas (e.g. strategic grazing) there may be an opportunity to cost-effectively achieve large-scale changes in vegetation condition. Based on a number of Alexandra’s (2002) recommendations to the GBCMA, the concept of a landscape restoration trial (later called Bush Returns) was developed. It incorporated the notion of paying landholders to manage large areas of land to increase the quantity and quality of native vegetation across the Goulburn Broken landscape, primarily through natural regeneration.

SCOPE OF BUSH RETURNS The primary ecosystem services purchased through Bush Returns are biodiversity conservation and salinity mitigation. The focus was to facilitate large-scale natural regeneration of native vegetation by using periodic management payments linked to management agreements to encourage landscape change. The on-ground activities of the trial focused on assisting natural regeneration processes in altered landscapes. Bush Returns has not yet targeted revegetation (tubestock planting or direct seeding) or the direct protection and management of large remnant patches of vegetation. Other grants are in place for those activities. Bush Returns recognises that protecting existing habitat is not enough to adequately conserve biodiversity across the catchment. We need to also build on the existing ecological infrastructure to provide viable habitat and avoid exponential species loss. An underlying assumption of Bush Returns is that restoration of ‘unimproved’ land will achieve greater biodiversity outcomes than reconstruction or revegetation of ‘improved’ and totally modified landscapes. For this reason the areas suited to Bush Returns are generally large and unimproved (low soil fertility and disturbance) and have scattered trees to provide a seed source for future regeneration. A minimum area was not set, but a preferred size was inferred to be ‘paddock-scale plus’ (e.g. at least 10 ha). Paddock-scale management was encouraged, to aid large-scale change and to minimise high costs associated with capital items such as fences.

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OBJECTIVE The objective of Bush Returns was to trial a new incentive mechanism for achieving large-scale increases in native vegetation extent on private land. Less measurable and achievable outcomes in the trial timeframe included:

s s s s s

increased knowledge of how large-scale landscape change can be achieved from the perspective of policy development, program delivery and implementation; increased understanding of the viability of natural regeneration as an effective option to achieve large-scale increases in native vegetation extent; increased provision and viability of habitat; increased extent of priority vegetation types; reduced recharge to groundwater.

METHODOLOGY SELECTION AND PRICING MECHANISM Three different approaches for delivering management payments to landholders were considered: 1

2 3

a sliding scale of fixed rates, set by the GBCMA and partner organisations, based on estimated costs associated with on-ground management and forgone income from land use changes (opportunity costs); negotiated rates of payment based on the value of the site and proposal; an open competitive tendering process (conservation auction), whereby landholders tender a bid based on their own cost calculations of how much they require to change their management.

The third option was chosen, largely to address hidden information such as the cost to landholders of managing natural regeneration, attitudes towards cost-sharing, land use, conservation status and regeneration potential of a given site. The auction approach was seen as a way to capture the inherent variability of these factors, and was based on the BushTender program that had been trialled in north-east Victoria (Stoneham et al. 2003). It was also seen as an opportunity to focus on the assessment of values at the site and the learning experience for the landholder, rather than a debate on a government-dictated incentive rate. The idea of negotiating with landholders was considered problematic in terms of ensuring objectivity and equity, especially in a model that involved multiple field officers (negotiators). When designing the Bush Returns approach, social research was undertaken in the target region to better understand potential drivers and barriers to landholders adopting large-scale restoration practices and participating in the program (Wakenshaw & Linehan 2004). The aim was to systematically understand farmer decision-making and predict the likelihood of adoption of a new form of commercial land use. The research concluded that there was potential for the concepts underlying Bush Returns to work but that a number of issues had to be addressed. These included conditions of agreements, particularly the length of agreement in terms of security of funding and achieving environmental outcomes, and restrictions placed upon landholders at the end of the contract if not renewed. Also of concern were impacts on enterprise viability, clarity and equity in the process for determining successful landholders

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(especially where payments vary according to site value and proposed management). The research helped to tailor the incentive program and address potential issues before they arose. ASSESSING PROPOSALS As part of the tender process used to select value for money proposals, a restoration benefits index (RBI) was developed to assess conservation significance, regeneration potential, landholder commitments and cost (revealed by landholder). conservation significance # regeneration potential # landholder management commitments RBI = cost required by landholder A field officer visited a landholder and the proposed site to discuss applicability for the Bush Returns program and assess:

s s s s

conservation significance against regional priorities (status of ecological vegetation classes and spatial context based on existing mapping); regeneration potential on the basis of seed source (health of parent seed-bearing trees, diversity of understorey according to benchmarks, area of potential regeneration based on distance from existing vegetation); regeneration potential on the basis of seedbed condition (weediness, extent of native groundcover and evidence of recruitment); landholder management commitments on the basis of the total area to be managed for conservation and the term of the management agreement.

The basis of a management plan was discussed at the site, based on assets and present threats and the actions required to facilitate natural regeneration. Typical actions included changing grazing regimes (not necessarily total livestock exclusion) and reducing the extent of weeds, but some plans included the use of fire or other forms of disturbance known to stimulate regeneration. The draft management plan was further developed by the field officer and sent to the landholder for approval. Landholders used the agreed management plan to determine their costs and benefits and ultimately the price they submitted under the bidding process. Once all landholder bids were received, the RBI was used to rank proposals. High-ranking proposals tended to be larger in size and with a high level of regional conservation significance, a high probability of regenerating and a relatively low cost. The winning bids were those that fell within the cumulative sum of available funding. AWARDING CONTRACTS Successful and unsuccessful bidders were notified when the bid assessment process was completed. Successful bidders were invited to enter into an agreement registered on the property title for 10 years (five-year contracts were offered but were unpopular, representing only two of 22 agreements). The contract included the agreed management plan and other schedules relating to contact details, site map, restrictions, incentive payments and an annual reporting template, as well as legal issues such as obligations, variations, prospective purchasers, default, indemnity and interpretation. Once agreements were signed by the GBCMA and the landholder, they were sent for formal registration on the land title. As the GBCMA is not legally able to enter into binding agreements with landholders on title, the agreements necessarily involved the Secretary of the Department of

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Sustainability and Environment (DSE), who had that authority under the Conservations Forests and Lands Act 1987. Some landholders chose to place a Trust for Nature covenant over their Bush Returns site in perpetuity under the Victorian Conservation Trust Act 1972. The major driver for registering agreements on the land title was to ensure continuity of actions and outcomes, by binding future landholders to the agreed management for the site. This may become more important as land ownership turnover increases in the Goulburn Broken Catchment. Nevertheless, there have been high transaction costs associated with preparing contracts and relying on a third party (DSE) to sign and complete the on-title registrations. This is an issue that needs to be overcome in any future application of Bush Returns or similar approaches. REPORTING AND PAYMENTS Once management agreements are signed, successful landholders are remunerated according to a payment schedule. In most cases an upfront payment (20% of total) is made. Landholders receive annual payments subject to satisfactory completion of agreed milestones. Payments are subject to annual inspections and the landholder’s report verifying the actions undertaken in the preceding 12 months, including observational records and photographs taken from established monitoring points.

RESULTS Two auctions were run under the Bush Returns trial. In October 2004, the first round of Bush Returns was launched in the mid-section of the catchment (Figure 13.2). As the trial was a new concept, the number of initial inquiries (48) and formal expressions of interest (19) fell to 15 property visits and nine management plans prepared. The landholders who did not receive a property visit were either outside the initial trial area, did not have a suitable site for regeneration (e.g. lack of seed source or an already intact remnant) or were seeking something different, e.g. a grant for revegetation. Out of five landholder bids, four were successful, covering 168 ha and totalling $126 700 of future payments. One landholder withdrew from the program for personal reasons, thereby reducing the area to 158 ha and the total payments to $119 700. Participation in the first auction was lower than expected, but the RBI proved successful in comparing proposals and awarding contracts. Round 2 began in April 2005 with approximately $650 000 extended to the entire Goulburn Broken Catchment. Because of the increased target area, budget and program awareness, landholder interest and participation was significantly higher than in Round 1. There were 150 inquiries, 95 expressions of interest, 56 management plans prepared and 32 valid bids. Twentyone landholders who received management plans did not submit bids and three bids were invalid (late). Some of the non-bidding landholders in Rounds 1 and 2 gave feedback that the management plan was enough for them to take action without receiving incentive payments, while others did not want to be locked into a binding agreement. Based on funding, a total of 17 bids covering 517 ha were successful. With two contract offers declined, the final result was 15 landholders covering 502 ha and totalling $648 400. Four of the landholders opted to enter into a Trust for Nature Conservation covenant in perpetuity, providing even further security and commitment to long-term management under Bush Returns. An additional 25% of the Round 2 bids were regarded as representing value for money and could have been approved if the funding pool was larger (about $1 million). In 2007 the 138

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Shepparton

To Murchison

Euroa Shepparton Road

Go ulb urn Va lley Hig hw ay

N

Midla

nd H

ighw ay

To Wangaratta

Murchison Violet Town

ay ew Fre me Hu

Rd

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Violet Town

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To Melbourne To Seymour

Figure 13.2: The target area for the first round of the Bush Returns project – the triangle between the towns of Shepparton, Benalla and Seymour

GBCMA funded four of the value-for-money projects that had missed out in Round 2. Without a third auction and with just over $100 000, an extra 40 ha were secured under 10-year agreements with the four landholders, all of whom accepted this second-chance offer. Results from the two auctions indicate that Bush Returns is filling a niche not met by existing incentive programs in the catchment. The approach is securing active management of large sites (average size for contracted landholders was 53 ha in Round 1 and 33 ha in Round 2) and restoration is being achieved in line with state and regional priorities. Preliminary results and observations suggest that most participants in Bush Returns have already undertaken native vegetation management activities on their property and are now taking a more advanced step by committing larger areas for conservation. For many, the ongoing incentive payments have allowed them to take this next step. While a range of land uses was captured in the trial, in most cases landholders regarded Bush Returns sites as the least agriculturally productive parts of their properties. During the developmental stages of Bush Returns there were many knowledge gaps identified in relation to achieving large-scale increases in native vegetation extent. The trial has helped to improve our understanding of how such approaches could be rolled out at a broader scale. Some of the knowledge gaps addressed include:

s s s

drivers and barriers to adoption of practices that encourage regeneration of native vegetation (social research commissioned prior to implementing trial); costs associated with land use change, including the level of financial incentives required for landholders to implement management practices that encourage natural regeneration; effectiveness of market-based approaches to allocate funding; 139

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s s s

effectiveness of management/stewardship payments to encourage active ongoing management of native vegetation; methods for assessing relative merits between different areas and proposals to achieve natural regeneration; measures for securing land use change and government/community investment (agreements registered on-title).

ECOLOGICAL OUTCOMES There were a number of major ecological knowledge gaps identified during the trial’s development. These included questions such as the site conditions required for regeneration, ecological responses to land use change and what can be expected from undertaking certain activities in different parts of the landscape, e.g. altering grazing regimes. While the timeframe of the trial period (less than a year for each auction) was too short to answer many of these questions, research is underway to collect data. In 2005, the University of Melbourne and the Arthur Rylah Institute were commissioned to prepare a monitoring protocol for Bush Returns sites and to start data collection to assess the influence of climate variability and site and management factors on seed availability, germination and survival and growth of regenerating plants. The first year of research began in May 2005; the third year of data collection has just been completed. In the infancy of the 10-year Bush Returns agreements and with drought conditions in Victoria, the expectations of any major ecological change including any regeneration events have been low. This was confirmed with the major findings of the first year as follows (from Vesk et al. 2006):

s s s s

there was little evidence of regeneration of new seedlings; seedlings were present to varying degrees across the sites. However, most were old seedlings resulting from regeneration in previous years which have remained suppressed, presumably by grazing; the small number of new naturally regenerating seedlings outside experimental areas suffered high mortality through summer, with few remaining by March; germination in the field is not assured, with only six seedlings found to have germinated in 48 plots sown. Seed may have washed away, been removed by ants or failed to germinate.

In addition, the experimental transplantation of seedlings showed that:

s s s s

high mortality occurs during summer; sites differ widely in mortality, with site attributes such as landscape position, pasture composition and structure being more important than soil disturbance or watering treatments; greater mortality of seedlings occurred at locations higher in the landscape with gravelly soils than in sites lower in the landscape with clay soils and higher soil moisture; removing competition from grass and other groundcover by scalping improved seedling survival;

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s s

additional watering improved seedling survival, but less than scalping; seedling survival improved by creating gaps in pasture of more than 20 cm radius.

Three preliminary conclusions were significant in the design and operation of tenders (Vesk et al. 2006). First, site selection is crucial, and perhaps more important than getting the management right. This makes the site assessment process critical to the success of Bush Returns. The preliminary results of monitoring and experimental work suggested that clumps of seed trees, soil moisture availability, evidence of previous regeneration and a ground layer with gaps are indicators of favourable sites. Second, management to reduce competition from both native and exotic grasses appeared to benefit regeneration but may have limited value if not co-ordinated with seed availability. Seedfall at a different time from seedbed preparation can result in negligible germination. We still need to know the timing of seedfall and the conditions for germination. Management should aim to maximise the survival of any observed seedlings rather than expect that future seedlings are a given. Third, increased soil moisture through summer aids survival of seedlings, but high variability in summer rainfall means high variability in seedling survival from year to year, which supports long-term contracts and regular monitoring. Continued monitoring in the second year of research confirmed many of the findings from Year 1, including mortality of seedlings in summer, which suggests the first summer is a bottleneck on tree recruitment. Nevertheless, seedlings were found at about 25% of all sampled points (within 60 m of tree canopies) in Year 2. Small seedlings (<10 cm tall), though much less common, were observed despite the drought. Much seed fell during the project year, at least for E. microcarpa. Responses to the autumn 2007 rains will be of great interest, especially to Year 3 of the monitoring program. (Apted et al. 2007). Year 3 of monitoring has continued to investigate variation between sites that are regenerating. More seedlings were found in areas of low soil phosphorus and potassium, with high cover of bare ground, moss and lichen on south-facing and southerly locations (Vesk et al. 2008). Mortality of about half of all transplanted seedlings in summer confirmed the previous two years’ findings suggesting that the first summer is a bottleneck on tree recruitment. Two-year-old seedlings, by contrast, suffered little mortality. There are two scales for which models need improvement: models that predict the probability of regeneration based on landscape-scale variables (position in the landscape, soils etc.), and models that use fine-scale information relating to resource competition (grass cover, moss, lichen etc.) to determine probability of successful recruitment (Apted et al. 2007). Further monitoring on seedfall and seedling survival has continued in Year 3, as well as data collection on soil fertility and understorey composition. This will help to identify not only the influences on successful regeneration, but also the broader picture of ecological change (beyond woody plants) occurring at Bush Returns sites. The data collected so far is being used to review the original site assessment methodology of Bush Returns. This will provide a scientific basis for adjusting the RBI where necessary, and improving decision-making and investment in landscape restoration. Preliminary results suggest that the method developed in Bush Returns to assess regeneration potential was found to predict the rank order of seedlings densities across the 22 Bush Returns sites with some success. However, Vesk et al. (2008) recommended that these imprecise predictions should be used as a guide only in the selection process. Suggested improvements to the assessment method include assessing moss and lichen cover, counting existing seedlings and using continuous estimates of variables rather than broad classes.

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Figure 13.3: Natural regeneration of white box (Eucalyptus albens) at a Bush Returns site on private property near Violet Town, Victoria, showing recruitment since set stocking was replaced by occasional crash grazing to reduce biomass and manage competition

Importantly, participants in the Bush Returns program help keep track of changes over time. Landholders who signed up under Round 2 submitted their first annual reports between February and April 2007. These included a record of activities against agreed milestones. Compliance has been very encouraging, as has the enthusiasm of landholders in the trying times of drought. Landholders provided a map of their site indicating permanent photo points, and photographs for the first year. Increases in native groundcover were already visible where landholders have ‘before and after’ photographs of a site or of adjacent paddocks with different management such as regular grazing. Seventy per cent of landholders stated that they had witnessed germination or recruitment of native vegetation, albeit sparse. Just over half was reported to be regrowth, not new seedlings. New growth was generally identified by landholders in spring or autumn. Common issues were the impact of drought on native vegetation germination and survival, grazing pressure from kangaroos, goats and deer, and unfavourable conditions for attempting ecological burning trials.

LANDHOLDER PERSPECTIVES Follow-up surveying of landholders (participants and non-participants) would allow further insights into the success of the Bush Returns trial and its application for the future, but several perspectives are being captured along the way. A landholder perspective from April 2007 is quoted below.

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Figure 13.4: Regeneration of grey box (Eucalyptus microcarpa) and understorey grasses, herbs and forbs on a 112 ha Bush Returns site at Upotipotpon, Victoria, following removal of sheep in 2000

We have a property in north-east Victoria where we mainly concentrate on dryland cropping and run sheep. On this property there are a few granitic hilly outcrops that are very picturesque but fairly unproductive, surrounded by grassy woodland. One such area is 50–60 hectares (Bush Returns area) and remains in a fairly natural state. On other ‘greenie’ type expeditions we have discovered endangered birds and rare native grasses and shrubs on this plot. Consequently, when we heard about the pilot project of Bush Returns we explored it further. After a site assessment we worked towards the tender process. Chris and I thought this was a fantastic way to better manage and protect our native vegetation and worked through the costs associated with weed and pest management, time involved, cost of fencing, loss of production from both grazing and a small area we could have cropped, also remembering a covenant would be placed over this land for any future development. Without the incentive of the periodic payments and management plans it would have been easy to leave the area alone, graze as desired and forget about conservation and regeneration and just put a few tree guards around regenerating areas. Both Chris and I feel it is a fairly significant site and enjoy comparing the photos of the annual changes. During the drought the groundcover has been fairly good, with no erosion and the only grazing that has been done is by a large number of kangaroos that are doing damage to the native trees that are regenerating. We believe the advantages of Bush Returns to be the tendering approach, coupled with an agreement on goals between both parties and a clear contract so that we know exactly what we would receive and what our expectations are in managing the site. As a family we hope to learn from our experience and from the input of GBCMA

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staff and researchers that monitor the site, as they discover things like purple coral pea, rock fern, rock isotome, kangaroo apple, wedge-tailed eagle nests, and an array of birdlife among other things. Our view is that the Bush Returns process ensures that native vegetation on private land is managed cost-effectively and the property owners are satisfactorily reimbursed (Libby Kellock, Lake Rowan, Victoria). Another landholder offered a similar view, also in April 2007: The Bush Returns program offered us a way of achieving our aim of substantially revegetating our property, without reducing its capacity to generate income. Having seen the effects of overgrazing in the district, the property had, in recent years, been lightly stocked and run essentially as a hobby farm. We had planted thousands of trees and shrubs as windbreaks, erosion control areas, a woodlot and more recently a seed production area. But, being bird enthusiasts, we were keen to try other techniques for establishing more natural habitat for wildlife, and Bush Returns provided that opportunity through natural regeneration on what is about one-third of the property. Like most people, we were largely stabbing in the dark when preparing our bid. However, we tried to make a realistic assessment of the loss of grazing land, loss of firewood availability, weed control costs, inflation effects and management workload. The site was already fully fenced so that was not a consideration. We were happy to commit to a 10-year period, and fortunately the assessment of site potential and conservation value was very positive. These two factors obviously contributed greatly to our bid being successful. We are pleased that the agreement is registered on the property title and intend to eventually covenant the area with Trust for Nature. Since starting the program, the management plan we committed to has not proved too onerous. In fact, we have, with the encouragement of Bush Returns management, been experimenting with various methods of weed control, including low rates of grass-specific herbicide to control sweet vernal grass, and application of sugar solution to reduce soil nitrate levels for control of capeweed and annual grasses. The sugar trial plots also involved comparison of biomass removal, burning and herbicide against a control plot of sugar only. The University of Melbourne is also conducting trials on the Bush Returns site to assess the germination of grey box seeds under various conditions. Despite the lack of any obvious regeneration this year due to the drought, we are pleased to see the growth of existing seedlings and saplings without damage from grazing cattle. We look forward to a better season and more successful regeneration in the future (Laurie Macmillan and David Wakefield, Strath Creek, Victoria).

IMPLICATIONS OF THE BUSH RETURNS TRIAL Although modelled on the BushTender program run by Victoria’s Department of Sustainability and Environment, Bush Returns was developed to specifically focus on natural regeneration as a means of achieving landscape change. It has used payments tied to a fixed-term management

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agreement registered on the property title. Participating landholders are rewarded with alternative income for providing environmental services, and there are ongoing site visits and guidance from the GBCMA. Site management plans are now being incorporated into other incentive programs in the catchment and stewardship payments seem to be gathering momentum nationwide. To improve the way it invests in private land management to achieve biodiversity goals, the GBCMA commissioned two reviews of vegetation incentive programs (Kenway & Roberts 2006; Stothers et al. 2008). These suggested that Bush Returns has been one of the more successful approaches in terms of its ability to improve the security of outcomes and encourage active management of sites and landholder learning through self monitoring and regular inspections by the GBCMA. The clarity and logic behind the selection process and the detail contained in management plans were also a strength. It is envisaged that the concepts developed through Bush Returns will continue and be extended to other environmental programs within the Goulburn Broken Catchment.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Rod McLennan provided comment on an earlier draft of this chapter.

REFERENCES Alexandra & Associates (2002). Landscape change in the Goulburn Broken catchment: final report. Unpublished report to the Goulburn Broken Catchment Management Authority. Alexandra J (2003). Accelerating landscape change on the slopes and grazing country. In Proceedings of the conference on rural land use change. Dept of Sustainability and Environment Victoria. Apted R, Vesk P & Dorrough J (2007). Eucalypt regeneration within the Bush Returns program: final report Year 2, 2006–07. Report prepared for the Goulburn Broken Catchment Management Authority. University of Melbourne. Australian National Audit Office (2001). Performance information Commonwealth financial assistance under the NHT audit. Report No. 43. Commonwealth Govt of Australia: Canberra. Dorrough J & Moxham C (2005). Eucalypt establishment in agricultural landscapes and implications for landscape-scale restoration. Biological Conservation 123, 55–66. Goulburn Broken Catchment Management Authority (2006). 2005–06 Goulburn Broken Catchment Management Authority annual report. GBCMA: Shepparton. Kenway J & Roberts K (2006). Identifying the appropriate mix of methods to accelerate progress towards the biodiversity targets of the Goulburn Broken Catchment. Report to GBCMA and Dept of Primary Industries Victoria. Roberts Evaluation Pty Ltd. Lockwood M, Hawke M & Curtis A (2001). Viability of revegetation incentives for meeting biodiversity and salinity objectives in the Goulburn-Broken Dryland. Johnstone Centre Report 153, Charles Sturt University: Albury. Stoneham G, Chaudri V, Ha A & Strappazzon L (2003). Auctions for conservation contracts: an empirical examination of Victoria’s BushTender trial. Australian Journal of Agricultural and Resource Economics 47, 477–500.

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Stothers K, Miles C & Robinson D (2008). Vegetation incentive analysis for the Goulburn Broken Dryland stage 2. Report and recommendations to the Dryland Landscape Strategy Steering Committee of the Goulburn Broken Catchment Management Authority. May 2008. Vesk P, Apted R & Dorrough J (2006). Eucalypt regeneration within the Bush Returns program: phase 1 final report 2005–06. Report commissioned by the GBCMA under the Bush Returns trial. University of Melbourne. Vesk P, McCallum W & Morris W (2008). Eucalypt regeneration within the Bush Returns program: Final Report Year 3 (2007–08). Draft Report commissioned by the GBCMA under the Bush Returns trial. University of Melbourne. Wakenshaw S & Linehan C (2004). Understanding the drivers and barriers for landholders adopting landscape change that will lead to large-scale restoration in the Goulburn Broken Catchment. Dept of Primary Industries: Tatura, Victoria.

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14 Working with farmers to improve habitat for ground-nesting birds Alexandra Knight and Stuart Whitten

On the blue plains in wintry days These stately birds move in the dance. Keen eyes have they, and quaint old ways On the blue plains in wintry days. The Wind, their unseen Piper, plays, They strut, salute, retreat, advance; On the blue plains, in wintry days, These stately birds move in the dance. ‘Native companions dancing’, John Shaw Neilson (1872–1942) In Chapter 1, Peter Hay talks about the importance of emotional connection with the natural world as a motivator for conservation. This connection is what drove me (Alexandra) to work in the environmental field. As a result Stuart and I have prefaced this chapter with the John Shaw Neilson poem about the brolga (Grus rubicunda), a bird once referred to as a ‘native companion’. To me, the poem captures the majesty and beauty of the bird and the vast semiarid regions of inland Australia. We still have these beautiful birds in the Murray Catchment in the Riverina area of southern New South Wales. A big bird, standing 1.3 m high with a 2.5 m wingspan, the brolga is quite common in northern Australia – Queensland and the Northern Territory. In southern Australia, their populations have been seriously depleted and we estimate that within the Murray Catchment there are only about 250 birds left, making this area very important for their conservation (Herring 2007).

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Figure 14.1: The three ground-nesting birds that are the focus of the Nest Egg project. (a) Brolga (photo Peter Merritt). (b) Plains-wanderer, this one male, at Terrick Terrick National Park (photo Nicky Bruce). (c) Bush stone-curlew (photo Ian Montgomery)

Brolgas’ breeding success is very limited. Of the two eggs laid each year, commonly one will hatch and the hatchling be taken by a fox. Brolgas are dependent on cane grass (Eragrostis autralasica) and spike rush (Eleocharis spp.) habitat found in ephemeral native wetlands. This chapter describes our efforts to preserve their wetland habitat and the habitat of two other ground-nesting birds, through the Nest Egg project. Another bird targeted in the Murray Catchment is the plains-wanderer (Pedionomus torquatus), only about 10 cm high, that lives in the Riverina grasslands. Its life story is linked to the grasslands, much of which has been lost to intensive agriculture. This little bird is in trouble not only because of changes in land use but partly because of the conservation approach in the past. The relationship between landholders and government departments over the management of native habitat has at times been less than friendly since the introduction of legislation covering native vegetation and threatened species. When such conflict occurs, it is the threatened and endangered species such as the plains-wanderer that tend to suffer. However, the plains wanderer is very responsive to good conditions and is capable of raising two to four young that disperse quite rapidly through the landscape. The third ground-nesting bird we are trying to bring back in the Murray Catchment is the bush stone-curlew (Burhinus grallarius). In the Murray Catchment the bush stone-curlew is dependent on grassy box woodland (including Eucalyptus microcarpa, E. largiflorens and E. melliodora) but is also found in red gum (E. camaldulensis) areas within remnants of native vegetation (Tack 2007). It is also quite commonly found on golf courses and seems to prefer areas with low groundcover and some remnant tree cover. The bush stone-curlew is in decline. Little is known about populations in the Murray Catchment but estimates range from as few as 30 to 300 individuals remaining (Rosie Smith, pers. comm.). It is a long-lived species, with a lifespan of up to 40 years, and it is suspected that the population is ageing. This bird has trouble with recruitment as predation by foxes is a major concern.

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NEST EGG Nest Egg is funded through the Australian government’s National Market-based Instruments Pilot Program (Round 2) and was designed with the assistance of CSIRO environmental economists. It provides a market-based incentive mechanism for farmers to protect the habitat of these three ground-nesting species. The Murray Catchment is diverse, stretching from the western slopes of Mt Kosciuszko in the east to the confluence of the Murray and Murrumbidgee Rivers in the west. The habitat types range from alpine and wet eucalypt forest across the open woodlands and fertile farming land of the south-west slopes of the Great Dividing Range to the semi-arid plains of the Murray River. It is a region of strong contrasts with lots of challenges for biodiversity and landholders willing to work on those challenges. The primary goal of Nest Egg is to improve the breeding success of the three species, to have the birds breed and their young fledge successfully. We know that all three species co-exist with farming. The plains-wanderer is found in grazed grassland areas, the bush stone-curlew in remnant woodland and the brolga in cane grass swamps that are occasionally crash grazed. We also know that some level of disturbance is necessary for the habitats to be suitable for the species, for example, the bush stone-curlew favours a low level of groundcover. In creating suitable habitat, we are relying on landholders’ knowledge of grazing to achieve a disturbance regime that suits ground-nesting birds, while at the same time having minimal impact on animal production. We are also relying on landholders’ business acumen to tell us what levels of production they are willing to forgo for managing produc-

Figure 14.2: The Murray Catchment

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tion and conservation. The use of auctions enable landholders to communicate those costs in a way that simply is not possible under the traditional and less flexible grant-based approach to conservation. Over the last few years the Murray Catchment Management Authority has invested several million dollars in grants for fencing, weed and pest control, and planted hundreds of thousands of tubestock seedlings. While we hope that this effort has been effective in improving the quality of habitat for a whole range of species, there are still many questions and a fair degree of community scepticism. Nest Egg describes a set of actions specifically designed to encourage suitable habitat for these ground-nesting birds, such as intensively managing predators (all three), retaining fallen timber (bush stone-curlew), providing seasonal water (brolga) and actively managing grasslands for grass height and total cover (plains-wanderer). Each landholder makes a bid based on their estimated cost of achieving the specified habitat conditions on their farm. This approach has been used for a range of different environmental outcomes in Australia (see Stoneham et al. 2003). The first stage of Nest Egg involved a series of workshops with landholders to explain the environmental outcomes the Murray Catchment Management Authority wishes to purchase, the management activities we believe will achieve those outcomes, the auction process and the payment and contract options. Together with expert advice, this approach helped to shape the new land management regimes that the auctioned funds would encourage, and ensured that the auction was held among an informed community. Some landholders were extremely knowledgeable about the birds and knew just what they wanted to do. Others were interested but needed more prescriptive guidance. Nest Egg offers an upfront payment to successful bidders and bonus payments on an annual basis when the habitat reaches benchmark conditions, and a second bonus if the particular bird species is observed on the property in the breeding season. The upfront payment is intended to aid in changing management, for example through the construction of fences or earthworks. The bonuses are aimed at stimulating ongoing management in order to achieve the desired outcomes. The opportunity cost of managing grazing land for ground-nesting birds is likely to be $10–30/ha per year, depending on habitat type and condition and the nature of the farm business. These figures are reflected in the contracted annual payment. The bonus for birds observed at the site during the breeding season is $1500 per site with a maximum of $10 000 combined bonuses per year per property (depending on site size and habitat condition). One of the reasons for the bird bonus is to encourage landholders to manage pests, particularly foxes. The method of management is left to individual landholders: some undertake intensive baiting in partnership with neighbours, others prefer shooting. Once the auction was advertised, landholders expressed interest in Nest Egg through the workshops or via telephone. A project officer then made a site visit to evaluate the site’s condition and suitability. At this time, the landholder and project officer discussed possible actions to bring the site up to the habitat benchmark. A draft contract for the site was then prepared for the landholder. Because Nest Egg was a pilot project, two contract options were offered. One was prescriptive and the other more open, and landholders could bid for either. Bids were received through a standard tender system. The tender evaluation team then assessed and ranked the bids against set criteria based on NSW BioMetric, specifically modified for Nest Egg (DECC 2008). Ranking the bids allowed the tender evaluation panel to determine which bids offered the best value for money and should be accepted. The number of landholders participating in Nest Egg exceeded our engagement targets. 150

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There were a number of technical challenges that presented some difficulties. An issue that became clear very early is the difference between areas of native vegetation in good condition and the actual habitat in which the birds are found. This was exemplified in the use of golf courses by bush stone-curlews, where some aspects of vegetation structure seem more important than the composition of native species. A commonly adopted benchmark in natural resource management in eastern Australia is to restore or maintain native vegetation in pre-1750 condition but, in this case, the best conditions for the birds are different from conventional benchmarks. Our aim was to provide landholders with a specific set of conditions for successful breeding of each species so, after much discussion, we developed benchmarks that, while focusing on native vegetation, allow for variation based on expert opinion and experiments in the Murray Catchment. The benchmarks for each species include the structure and composition of the native vegetation community; diversity of native plant species; percentage cover of grass, leaf litter and fallen timber; percentage cover of mid-storey and canopy; understorey height; and depth of water bodies (for brolgas). These are described in habitat management guides for each species and include photographs of habitat in good condition (Herring 2007; Tack 2007; NPWS 2002). The most rewarding aspect of Nest Egg has been the interest generated among landholders. In the past, although some landholders had been very supportive of conservation efforts there had also been a significant degree of antagonism. Landholders commonly express the fear that the presence of threatened species on their properties would put their financial future in jeopardy because of perceived restrictions on their land management and businesses. A lesson we’ve learnt is to construct our scheme to offer benefits for the bird, the habitat, the native grassland and the people who manage it. We have also learnt to explain the project clearly, to be flexible and to give landowners the opportunity to be involved early in the process. We are now evaluating the success of Nest Egg. We have information on the outcomes of the bid evaluation, but it will take the three years of the contract period to determine if more of the endangered ground-nesting birds breed successfully. That time is also necessary to evaluate the success of landholders’ actions and their satisfaction with the program. Twenty of the bids offered through Nest Egg were successful and landholders were offered contracts to manage their sites to meet the habitat benchmark for each of the three species. Only one contract was for the plains-wanderer, two were for the brolga and the remaining 17 were for bush stone-curlew sites. A total of 1336 ha is being managed through Nest Egg contracts with sites varying from 7 ha to 207 ha; the median is 24 ha and the average is 67 ha. A total of $302 000 has been committed to the project over the three-year contract period. However, this allocation will only be spent if all landholders successfully meet their habitat benchmarks and successfully claim their bird bonus. The first habitat bonus payment was due in autumn 2008 and the first bird bonus payment in spring 2008. Why was there so much interest in the bush stone-curlew and less in the other species? One answer is that there are more properties in the catchment with suitable habitat for bush stonecurlews and potentially more breeding pairs. The bush stone curlew has also been the focus of community interest in the Murray Catchment for several years. Both the Nature Conservation Working Group and the Murray Catchment Management Authority have employed bush stonecurlew project officers who worked with the community to raise awareness of that species. As a result, the curlew already has an established profile in the catchment and knowledge of its habitat requirements are perhaps more widely known. Fortunately for Nest Egg, the CMA’s bush 151

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(a)

(b)

(c)

(d)

Figure 14.3: Habitat for target species in Nest Egg, showing benchmark condition states. (a) Wetland breeding habitat for brolgas near Wanganella, with birds in left and centre middle distance (photo Michael Mullins). (b) Plains-wanderer habitat in good condition (photo Damon Oliver). (c) Bush stone-curlew habitat (photo Eliza Tack). (d) Bush stone-curlews in disguise (photo Rosie Smith)

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stone-curlew officer could work alongside the Nest Egg team and generate interest in the project through established contacts. There may also have been other complicating factors leading to the discrepancy, such as the lack of water for brolga breeding sites and previous conflict between landholders and government over conservation of the plains-wanderer. However, it seems very clear that success of threatened species projects on private land relies on extension activities over a long time and on financial incentives that can play an important role once the broader level of community interest and knowledge is attained.

REFERENCES DECC (2008). BioMetric: terrestrial biodiversity tool for the NSW property vegetation plan developer. Dept of Environment and Climate Change. Available online at http://www.environment. nsw.gov.au/projects/BiometricTool.htm. Accessed 13 February 2008. Herring M (2007). Brolga breeding habitat: managing wetlands on your farm. Murray Catchment Management Authority: Albury. NPWS (2002). Plains-wanderer habitat management guide: a photographic guide for visually assessing the grassland structure of plains-wanderer habitat. NPWS Western Directorate Threatened Species Unit. Stoneham G, Chaudri V, Ha A & Strappazon L (2003). Auctions for conservation contracts: an empirical examination of Victoria’s Bush Tender trial. Australian Journal of Agricultural and Resource Economics 47, 477–500. Tack E (2007). Bush stone-curlew habitat management guide: a guide for managing vegetation of bush stone-curlew habitat. Murray Catchment Management Authority: Albury.

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15 Achieving regional conservation targets through market-based instruments in southern Queensland Kate Steel

T

he Queensland Murray–Darling Committee (QMDC) is a non-statutory regional body charged with delivering improvements to the management of landscapes in the Queensland Border Rivers and Maranoa-Balonne catchments of the Murray–Darling Basin. Improvements to the extent and condition of native vegetation communities are major biodiversity targets for the natural resources management plan area. A number of incentive programs are being used, however, achieving effective biodiversity outcomes is a challenge through direct grants. Voluntary conservation programs like Land for Wildlife Plus and QMDC Bush Tenders are proving to be efficient and cost-effective ways to achieve biodiversity targets. So far the QMDC has trialled two competitive tenders aimed at increasing the amount of native vegetation retained in the landscape through retention of regrowth. This approach is being modified to improve the management of priority remnant vegetation communities in the southern Brigalow Belt of Queensland (EPA 2007), a woodland vegetation type named after the dominant species, brigalow (Acacia harpophylla). Lessons from trials of the competitive tender approach include the need for a transparent and straightforward application process, clearer definition of target landscapes, improved extension and assessment tools and appropriate metrics to select successful tenders based on best biodiversity outcome per dollar spent. The on-ground results of the QMDC Bush Tenders have been limited (e.g. numbers of hectares offered) but the approach is proving valuable in less tangible ways. A process is being developed that can be applied to future market-based

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instruments projects and that may target natural resource management outcomes in addition to biodiversity. There has also been considerable community learning from the tender approach, including anecdotal evidence of production benefits from conservation efforts. This chapter provides an overview of QMDC’s venture into market-based instruments as a means of achieving biodiversity targets from the perspective of the organisation and participating landholders.

ORGANISATION AND REGIONAL OVERVIEW The QMDC began in 1992 as a community-based forum to develop strategies to improve natural resource management in the Queensland Murray–Darling Basin (QMDB). It has planning relationships with other natural resource management organisations in the region including the South-west Natural Resource Management group and the Condamine Alliance. Accreditation of the QMDC’s regional investment strategy by the Australian and Queensland governments led to the QMDC being the designated body in the Border Rivers and MaranoaBalonne Catchments for delivering major publicly funded programs such as the National Action Plan for Salinity and Water Quality, the Natural Heritage Trust and the national Landcare program. In 2004, QMDC’s regional natural resource management plan and investment strategy stated its aim as ‘the equitable, efficient and sustainable use of water, land and other environmental resources of the Queensland Murray–Darling Basin’. The Queensland Border Rivers and Maranoa-Balonne Catchments form the headwaters of the Darling River system, covering an area approximately 102 000 km2 from west of the Great Divide to the Carnarvon Ranges in the north and the New South Wales border in the south (Figure 15.1). The region contains significant biodiversity and production values. Over 30% of the labour force in the QMDB is engaged in agriculture and forestry industries, accounting for 18% of the region’s annual gross regional product. Consequently, sustainable natural resources management is of major importance in the region’s economic and social fabric. The dominant land uses are mixed grazing and dryland farming, irrigated crops including cotton and intensive livestock production in the eastern tablelands and the floodplains of the Macintyre River and the Lower Balonne. The Maranoa-Balonne Catchments support grazing, some dryland agriculture and large areas of forestry, with the western lands predominately used for extensive grazing on native pastures. National parks, conservation areas, state forest and other reserves cover 5% of the region. Natural vegetation communities provide the basis for the agricultural wealth of the regions with more than 90% of grazing based on native and naturalised pastures, and a timber industry based on native forest worth an estimated $30 million annually (QMDC NRM plan 2005). The region contains some of the most highly cleared agricultural landscapes in Queensland as well as supporting expansive areas of natural vegetation (Figure 15.2). More than 45% of all clearing in Queensland since 1997 has occurred in the QMDB area. It now faces considerable threat from loss of habitat, contraction of species distributions, loss of genetic diversity, loss of riparian vegetation, continuing degradation and loss of ecosystems and increased vulnerability of species and ecosystems to external changes.

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Achieving regional conservation targets through market-based instruments in southern Queensland

Figure 15.1: Location of the Queensland Murray–Darling Basin

The most extensive vegetation clearing has occurred in the Brigalow Belt, the New England Tablelands and Eastern Mulgalands bioregions (Figure 15.2). As a result of high levels of endemism coupled with high levels of threat from broad-scale clearing, the Brigalow Belt is recognised as one of 15 national biodiversity hotspots.

ADDRESSING THE CHALLENGES The QMDC offers a range of incentive programs to landholders to meet the needs of sustainable natural resource management in the region. Its flagship program is subcatchment planning, a community engagement process that is the vehicle for the majority of the region’s management objectives. Half the funds in the QMDC regional investment strategy are allocated through the program. Since its inception in 2003 the subcatchment program has proved very popular, involving more than 30% of the landholders in the region. Neighbouring landholders are taken through an integrated planning process to build their capacity in resource planning and achieve on-ground improvements. Initial group interests tended to focus on production-oriented on-ground outcomes (pastures, soil conservation, fencing to land type, grazing pressures) with less interest in vegetation and biodiversity. Only 10% of funds have involved biodiversity actions. Within the vegetation program, the challenge has been to achieve recognition of the values and services that healthy biodiversity offers. The past three years have seen a phase of community capacity-building through field days, fact sheets and local presentations. This capacity and trust-building phase is expected to continue for a number of years with on-ground works

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Town Highway Regional ecosystem Bioregion Qld Murray Darling Basin

Figure 15.2: Extent of remnant vegetation in the bioregions of the Queensland Murray–Darling Basin

slowly building on the increased interests and abilities of landholders to manage land for biodiversity outcomes. Within the vegetation and biodiversity theme, native farm forestry is also targeted with awareness-raising and capacity-building projects. There is a voluntary conservation agreement program that aims to extend the regional Land for Wildlife network, based on covenanting land for nature conservation, and support the network with technical extension activities. More recently, the QMDC has experimented with market-based instruments because it was not achieving its regional biodiversity objectives. It has initiated three commercial tender projects (one Soil Tender and two Bush Tenders) and plans to continue developing these approaches to attract landholders to biodiversity management. This shift in approach is motivated by the low outputs from the subcatchment planning program, and first-hand conversations with landholders involved in various natural resource management programs. Social research in the region confirms the potential acceptance of alternative price-driven incentives. A study of values, knowledge and attitudes underpinning catchment planning activities indicated that 76% of respondents agreed that landholders should be paid for environmental services that benefit the wider community (Byron et al. 2004). Other research suggests market-based instruments can address social inequities in the community when paying for conservation. A study in the Moree Plains Shire in western NSW revealed that controls on clearing native grasslands and woodlands under the Native Vegetation Conservation Act 1998 meant that landholders were experiencing a loss in land values (up to 21%) and an inequitable loss of income – 10% compared with 0.55% for urban households (Sinden 2003). Brosnan (1999) estimated that a similar loss of income (10–14%) would occur in pastoral enterprises in southern inland Queensland. Given that Queensland has introduced significant clearing restrictions under the Vegetation Management Act 1999, it is expected that these levels of forgone income are being experienced as farmers bear most of the costs of biodiversity conservation on behalf of the community. These examples highlight the need to under158

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Achieving regional conservation targets through market-based instruments in southern Queensland

stand the real costs of conservation in production landscapes, and to seek equitable payments for biodiversity conservation as a legitimate alternative land use.

ENTERING THE REALM OF MARKET-BASED INSTRUMENTS Market-based instruments are a means of providing publicly sponsored conservation outcomes through competition among landholders who are prepared to supply conservation services beyond their duty of care. By harnessing competition, market-based instruments may allow more conservation for a given public outlay (for detailed reviews of benefits and pitfalls see, for example, Coggan & Whitten 2005; Whitten & Young 2004). An early development of price-based instruments in Australia was the Victorian Bush Tender scheme (Stoneham et al. 2003). The Victorian Department of Sustainability and Environment pioneered an auction mechanism to set contract prices, which ensures competition in supply. Through an equitable and transparent assessment process, this auction mechanism enables the selection of bids that offer the best value for money, typically expressed as greatest biodiversity value for least cost per hectare (Cutbush 2006). In 2005, the social and economic unit of the Queensland Department of Natural Resources and Water was funded under the National Action Plan for Salinity and Water Quality to assist Queensland’s regional bodies design incentive programs. They developed a range of products to assist specific incentive design issues. Through this scheme, the QMDC received funds to implement and evaluate two activities. In the first, competitive tenders were called for soil conservation works in areas of highly productive soils where conservation tillage has not been fully implemented. The other competitive tender project, Bush Tender 2005, aimed to encourage retention of high-quality regrowth vegetation in catchments with less than 10% remnant vegetation and high salinity hazard. In the first round of Bush Tender 2005, the QMDC delivered management agreements covering 530 ha with bids averaging $19/ha/yr over 10 years. Building on the fledgling knowledge of the 2005 trial, QMDC ran another Bush Tender in 2006 through which management agreements were offered for 287 ha at an average bid value of $23/ha/yr over 10 years. These values are the outcome costs of the projects and do not include project set-up costs, which were initially large. However, the Bush Tenders are proving to be more cost-effective than other funding programs administered by the QMDC (QMDC 2007). In comparison, direct grants over the same period (2005/06), offered through other funding programs, established contracts with landholders to fence off and manage 460 ha of remnant vegetation areas at a cost of $50/ ha/year over 10 years. The outcome value of the Bush Tenders compared to direct funding projects is considerable, given that both employ similar management agreement standards (e.g. on-ground works, monitoring, reporting). The remainder of this chapter discusses what we at the QMDC learnt from the tender programs, landholder views on biodiversity and production benefits of the commercial tenders, and our future directions using market-based instruments.

LESSONS FROM MARKET-BASED INSTRUMENTS Bush Tender 2005 aimed to increase the amount of retained vegetation in landscapes with less than 10% remnant retention. Program logic suggested that a market exists for regrowth 159

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vegetation retention and enhancement in the Brigalow Belt, however, the 2005 pilot was testing the market and thus initial targets of hectares on-ground were not set. Seven bids were received, resulting in three vegetation management contracts covering 530 ha. The poor response was probably due to a range of factors, especially the novelty of the process. Limited eligibility may have also contributed to low response rates, as there is very little suitable vegetation left in the target landscapes. However, this also meant a lower risk for QMDC, and a good learning opportunity for QMDC and landholders. There was a tendency for landholders to bid lower-than-expected values due to the novelty of the process. Bids tended to include infrastructure costs and some ongoing management costs (e.g. monitoring, weed control) but opportunity costs and biodiversity ‘rent’ values were poorly considered. This issue was subsequently addressed by providing introductory information packages to landholders, with clearer explanations of what a bid may entail, the implications of management contracts and the longer-term outcomes for the sites (e.g. increased biodiversity values may be tradable at the end of a contract). A refined communications plan was developed and we now use a case study to clarify the implications for landholders. An unintended outcome of Bush Tender 2005 was one landholder concurrently negotiating an alternative conservation scheme, the nature refuge program run by the Queensland Environmental Protection Agency. The declaration of a nature refuge over a property which is binding on title has reduced the risk to QMDC that management actions will lapse after sale. A co-operative monitoring program was negotiated to eliminate overlap. Figure 15.3 illustrates the ‘Warrowa’ case study site, where state-mapped regional ecosystems (protected from clearing under Queensland legislation) are supplemented by the retention of corridors and patches of previously unprotected vegetation. ‘WARROWA’ CASE STUDY We think conservation is essential to what we do. Conservation should be inseparable from farming due to its importance to long-term sustainability and the protection of our natural heritage. However, implementing conservation work and making ends meet at the same time is not always easy. We are here for the long term and know that by managing sustainably we will keep our resources in good shape, but it seems to be getting financially harder to do that (Lynelle and Warren Urquhart). The Urquharts consider they have benefited from the project by receiving much-needed funds to implement actions that would otherwise have taken many years to fund through the farm business. Like many farmers, they understand the value of protecting natural resources and intend to manage their grazing by fencing the brigalow (Acacia harpophylla) shade lines that were left during original clearing, so they can continue to act as wildlife corridors for many years.

METRICS FOR ASSESSING BIDS In 2006, the target areas were expanded to include three large catchments, with approximately four to five times as many landholders as for Bush Tender 2005. Although the size of the target area was increased dramatically the response was similar, with only 287 ha funded for Bush Tender 2006. The limited area of good-quality regrowth vegetation in these landscapes again

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Figure 15.3: Map of Warrowa submitted for Bush Tender 2005

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restricted the number of bids. However, a more stringent process of assessment was used with a metric designed to determine the relative environmental value of each bid. The metric allocated environmental significance (ES) scores to each site based on:

s s s s

the stage and potential of the regrowth vegetation (type score); the size of the area (area score); the status of the vegetation based on pre-clearing regional ecosystem maps (conservation significance); results from on-ground assessments of habitat complexity, condition and context (biodiversity score).

The bid ES averaged the environmental significance scores for each assessment site included in each tender bid. A management score was assessed by a panel which considered potential biodiversity outcomes of the proposed management actions. These included:

s s s s

the level of protection being established for a bid site (e.g. fencing, firebreaks, covenant); range, appropriateness and effectiveness of management actions to be undertaken on a bid site (e.g. grazing strategy); range, appropriateness and effectiveness of biodiversity enhancement activities within a bid site (e.g. ecological thinning); landscape biodiversity outcome at the property scale.

An environmental benefit per bid was calculated thus: EB = bid ES # area value (type score # area score) # management score The metric made it possible to select the best bids in terms of value for money, but the low response rates made it difficult to establish relative values and a well-populated cost/benefit curve for the project. The limited data available to aid the decision-making for successful bids is shown in Figure 15.4. This shows that the cut-off for ‘best value per environmental benefit’ occurred between $2.50 and $4.70, where only small environmental benefits were gained for a large increase in price. Bids at $4.70 and above were rejected in Bush Tender 2006.

TARGETING LANDHOLDERS AND LANDSCAPES The next refinement was to make the target area and target vegetation type more closely related to the expected outcomes by appealing to Land for Wildlife participants in the region. The Land for Wildlife community are already ‘turned on’ to biodiversity conservation and aware of areas of high nature conservation value on their properties. They expressed interest in financial incentives and extension programs. In 2007, an incentive was developed called Land for Wildlife Plus. The process was not an auction, but was designed mainly to test a metric aimed at high nature conservation value sites for rare and threatened species. It resulted in 13 expressions of interest and an opportunity to include properties with management covenants through the nature reserves program. A total of 660 ha of high-value remnant and regrowth vegetation was identified for increased conservation management with agreements in the order of $50/ha.

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$/env benefit

Value per EB

Cumulative Environmental Benefit

Figure 15.4: Environmental benefit curve generated from Bush Tender 2006 environmental metrics data and bid values

IMPROVING PROBITY An application to deliver funding under the Commonwealth Department of Environment Water, Heritage and the Arts program known as ‘Maintaining Australia’s Biodiversity Hotspots’ required a review of probity issues in the tender process (PSI Consulting 2002). QMDC staff are trained in managing conflict of interest, confidentiality, security, gifting, record-keeping, protocols for interaction with prospective applicants, in-field site selection and separation of existing relationships with clients from the project business. A probity plan details the actions to be taken throughout the tender process to ensure that all potential applicants and tenderers are treated objectively and are subject to a valid and consistent evaluation and assessment process. It ensures that:

s s s s s

there is integrity in all evaluation and assessment processes; the procedures and processes are actually followed; public and tenderer confidence is preserved in accountable administration processes and procedures and in project record-keeping; all confidential information is secured; all actual, potential or perceived conflicts of interest are addressed.

BUILDING CAPACITY A significant gap in using commercial tenders is that they assume equal knowledge and ability among landholders submitting tender bids. As a function of probity, the formal tender process does not provide an opportunity to build capacity in landholders. The result was a low response rate and misunderstanding by applicants of the tender process and desired outcomes. This highlights the need to provide capacity-building so that landholders understand the public

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goods and ecological services they are supplying, and aligning their payment expectations to reflect those environmental values. Natural resource management bodies are in a prime position to provide capacity-building programs to landholders but this role needs to be separated from the business of Bush Tenders or other market-based instruments.

STRENGTHS OF MARKET-BASED INSTRUMENTS Market-based instruments allow for producer-driven solutions. Landholders interested in the auction process appreciate an incentive to manage areas of vegetation for biodiversity value. This was significant when many landholders in Queensland were clearing land, before the 1999 halt on broad-scale clearing. Supporting people who retained native vegetation is a major strength of this approach. Landholders also appreciate the face-to-face contact with QMDC staff and the project’s flexibility, in that producers are asked to provide their own solutions to the problems they encounter. Landholders admit to some confusion regarding development of a bid. We expect that, with further use of market-based instruments, bids will better reflect a combination of the cost of the management actions and the values of individuals. Even though initial programs have attracted low responses, the auction process is an investment in better understanding the economic aspects of managing biodiversity. When coupled with increased community acceptance of this style of funding, this is likely to mean more realistic and equitable payments to landholders engaged in balancing production and biodiversity conservation. It will help to balance the socioeconomic inequity involved in managing for biodiversity.

ACCOUNTING FOR STEWARDSHIP Stewardship payments are payments made to a landholder for carrying out actions that maintain natural values on their property. The payment creates a market value for the environmental service and provides income diversification for the landholder. Therefore, stewardship payments are not a one-off payment for works undertaken, but an alternative form of income paid over a fixed timeframe. The cost of lost production resulting from the management actions can be included in the stewardship payment. In this way, landholders can be paid to ‘farm’ biodiversity (Comerford & Clouston 2005). The challenge of applying a stewardship value to parts of the landscape requires a clear and equitable process of determining the cost of buying biodiversity outcomes from landholders, i.e. the real cost per month or year of maintaining X ha of ecosystem Y in good ecological condition (or at a certain percentage of full functionality). The QMDC bases its calculations on current land valuations and council rates plus production potential ($/ha/yr), plus the cost of installing relevant infrastructure or undertaking one-off management actions (e.g. weed control), but does all this actually equate to the real ongoing cost of biodiversity conservation? This remains unknown, for most of the landscape.

MARKET-BASED INSTRUMENTS IN THE FUTURE As a body seeking holistic and cost-effective outcomes to often difficult problems, we need a range of incentive mechanisms strategically integrated with each other. The QMDC considers 164

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Achieving regional conservation targets through market-based instruments in southern Queensland

that market-based instruments are important tools in accessing the diverse markets of environmental management. The auction process is a way of explicitly acknowledging the costs that providing social benefits of biodiversity conservation can impose upon a landholder, by using market forces to pay for those services. The future of market-based instruments as a tool in natural resources management in regional bodies seems assured. Even so, there are quite a few policy, institutional and cultural challenges, as well as capacity issues, for resource management bodies to develop and deliver effective instruments. A capacity-building process is being undertaken through the national market-based instruments pilot program, to address some of the challenges facing natural resource management bodies integrating market-based instruments into mainstream incentive funding (Mackenzie & Davies 2007).

CONCLUSION The Queensland Murray–Darling Committee appreciates the complexities and shortfalls of purchasing biodiversity outcomes in a market that is fraught with intangible values, unknowns and failures. We respect the need to take a cautious approach to using market-based instruments in efforts to increase conservation activities on private land, and are continually learning from our own and others’ experiences in the field. There is appreciable assistance and information available to improve the regional delivery of these programs and we recognise the need to continue to build our own capacity, to streamline processes within the organisation and to provide an open and equitable service to clients. The purpose of these or any other incentives is to improve the community’s capacity to manage the landscape, manage change and manage risk.

REFERENCES Brosnan RM (1999). Effect of tree clearing and grassland ploughing restrictions on a property on Queensland’s western Darling Downs: a case study. BAgEc dissertation, University of New England: Armidale. Byron I, Curtis A & MacKay J (2004). Providing social data to underpin catchment planning in the Queensland Murray–Darling region. BRS: Canberra. Coggan AJ & Whitten SM (2005). Market-based instruments (MBIs) in Australia: what are they, important issues to consider and some applications to date. Background paper presented at the Desert Knowledge CRC Workshop Alice Springs, 8–10 June 2005. Comerford E & Clouston B (2005). Stewardship payments for natural resource management: a practical guide for regional NRM bodies. Dept of Natural Resources, Mines & Water: Brisbane. Cutbush G (2006). Incentives for natural and cultural heritage conservation. Paper for the 2006 Australian State of the Environment Committee, Dept of Environment and Heritage: Canberra. Available online at http://www.deh.gov.au/soe/2006/emerging/incentives/index.html. EPA (2007). Regional ecosystems database, Qld Environmental Protection Agency. Available online at www.epa.qld.gov.au/nature_conservation/biodiversity/regional_ecosystems/introduction_ and_status/. Accessed 13 February 2007. Mackenzie J & Davies D (2007). Building capacity for market-based instruments: scoping study project. Market-based Instruments Capacity Building Program, Market-based Instruments 165

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Pilot Program and National Action Plan for Salinity and Water Quality. Dept of Natural Resources & Water: Brisbane. PSI Consulting (2002). Probity report: Bush Tender trial. Report for Dept of Natural Resources & Environment Victoria. QMDC (2007). Bush Tender 2007. Queensland Murray–Darling Committee. Available online at www.qmdc.org.au/get-involved/bush-tender-2007.html. Sinden JA (2003). Who pays to protect native vegetation? Costs to farmers in Moree Plains Shire, NSW. Working paper series in agriculture and resource economics, University of New England: Armidale. Stoneham G, Chaudhri V, Ha A & Strappazzon L (2003). Auctions for conservation contracts: an empirical examination of Victoria’s Bush Tender trial. Australian Journal of Agricultural and Resource Economics 47, 477–500. Whitten S & Young M (2004). Market-based tools for environmental management: where do they fit and where to next? 6th Annual National AARES Symposium, Canberra. Young MD, Gunningham N, Elix J, Lambert J, Howard B, Grabosky P & McCrone E (1996). Reimbursing the future: an evaluation of motivational, voluntary, price-based, property-right, and regulatory incentives for the conservation of biodiversity. Paper No. 9. Environment Australia: Canberra.

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16 The Australian rice industry’s Environmental Champions program Janelle McGufficke, Louise Adcock, Les Gordon and Leigh Vial

T

he Environmental Champions program is the result of a grassroots desire in the Australian rice industry to achieve long-term sustainability and demonstrate its environmental achievements to the wider community. It emerged from an inclusive process involving farmers, environmental groups, government authorities and regional catchment bodies, and focuses on engaging people in change through a holistic approach to managing agricultural landscapes.

THE AUSTRALIAN RICE INDUSTRY The Australian rice industry is located in the Murray and Murrumbidgee valleys of New South Wales and northern Victoria (Figure 16.1). Rice is grown on approximately 2500 farms by approximately 2000 family-operated businesses. On average 1.2 million tonnes is produced annually, generating $800 million in export and value-added products. The industry supports some 63 regional towns and generates 21% of total regional income and 18% of employment in the Riverina Plains. In Australia, unlike other rice-growing regions of the world, rice is grown in rotation with other crops and under strict conditions. The industry has a high level of self-regulation to ensure high growing standards with minimal impact on the environment.

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MURRUMBIDGEE IRRIGATION AREA LEETON

MURRUMBIDGEE RIVER

AUSTRALIA’S RICE GROWING REGIONS RICE MILLS

COLEAMBALLY IRRIGATION AREA

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MURRAY VALLEY IRRIGATION DISTRICT DENILIQUIN M UR R

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Figure 16.1: Australia’s rice-growing region

WHY ENVIRONMENTAL CHAMPIONS? In the late 1990s rice growers, like many farmers in Australia, were feeling increasing pressure at several levels. Legislation across all areas, including the environment, was creating a maze of requirements which had to be met, yet very little straightforward information was available to assist farmers in meeting the requirements. Many environmentally based programs existed, regionally and locally, with little co-ordination between them. This created confusion for those trying to get involved and understand how programs related to one another. Many farmers were undertaking environmental works such as revegetation, enhancing existing remnant vegetation, increasing water use efficiency and tackling salinity but felt their efforts were not being recognised. Of great concern was the increasing pressure from the broader community and particularly from irrigation farmers. Individual farmers and the rice industry as a whole had no credible way of demonstrating their efforts. Most importantly, growers wanted to leave a healthy legacy and needed guidance to achieve it (Linnegar & Woodside 2003). The Environmental Champions program was the result of a grower-driven movement to address all these issues in a positive way, drawing together environmental and production aspects of farming to drive and demonstrate continual improvement.

HOW THE PROGRAM EVOLVED The first step was to develop an environmental policy for the Australian rice industry. This process was guided by strategic advice commissioned by the industry (Woodside 2004). The recommended approach was not to write the policy for the industry but to assist the industry to write its own policy, to ensure ownership. Policy development included consultation with all relevant environmental regional organisations as well as prominent green groups and the industry as a whole, at farmer level. Through this process, several key areas became flagship programs – greenhouse, biodiversity, industry improvement and the concept of an Environmental Champions program (Figure

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The Australian rice industry’s Environmental Champions program

RICE ENVIRONMENT POLICY

KEY RESULTS AREAS Flagship initiatives

Regional programs

Greenhouse challenge

Biodiversity

Industry improvement

ENVIRONMENTAL CHAMPIONS PROGRAM

Existing practices

Monitoring and assessment

Figure 16.2: Relationships between environmental programs and the Australian rice industry’s environmental policy

16.2). While each flagship program had its own raft of actions, the Environmental Champions program was developed as the delivery mechanism to bring these activities to farmers in a streamlined way and to simplify the ever-increasing levels of information. The Environmental Champions program focuses on investing in people and building on their capacity to make change both on-farm and in their region (Linnegar & Woodside 2003).

PRINCIPLES The following key principles underpin the Environmental Champions program and take it from being a program about the environment to a program about people and their farm businesses.

STRUCTURE The program has nine management pathways (Figure 16.3), each with five levels of achievement. The nine pathways cover all aspects of the farm business and have been agreed to by a cross-section of industry and regional committees. The pathways are soil health, air quality, water, biodiversity, farm planning, product quality, environmental risk, environmental services and chemical management. Each pathway has five levels of benchmarks allowing farmers to build knowledge and skills, improve performance and be recognised for their achievements. Underlying the delivery of all these pathways is capacity-building, community leadership and development. The five levels provide the opportunity for farmers to improve their knowledge and skills at their own pace (Figure 16.4). Using the biodiversity pathway as an example, the levels are as follows:

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Table 16.1: Principles of the Environmental Champions program Outcome-driven Proactive not reactive Based on change management principles Beyond compliance to demonstrate leadership Developed from the ground up to ensure ownership Assists rice growers to achieve their number one priority, a healthy legacy Adaptable to all cropping and livestock enterprises within a rice-based farming system Supported by strategies and plans based on sound evidence Provides a pathway for environmental improvement that links regional and catchment targets Demonstrates credible environmental performance that is supported by evidence and external parties Co-ordinated through strong partnerships with farmers, regional organisations and relevant authorities

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Level 1 – recognising what constitutes habitat at the farm scale; Level 2 – developing plans to protect and enhance biodiversity; Level 3 – implementing plans; Levels 4 and 5 – contributing on a regional scale through involvement in subcatchment- and catchment-scale projects.

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The Australian rice industry’s Environmental Champions program

The structure Level 1 (what we need to do) Meet basic requirements through streamlining information. 50%' %)#/-0./-!(*1%)#"!-. --%!-.2*-&%)#/*#!/$!-.

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Figure 16.4: The five levels of achievement in the Environmental Champions program

THE IMPORTANCE OF PARTNERSHIPS The development of the Environmental Champions program involved a high degree of co-operation. From the very early stages all relevant organisations were invited to be involved, including irrigation bodies in the rice-growing regions, government agencies, the Rice Co-operative Research Centre, catchment management authorities, non-government organisations and, most importantly, growers (Linnegar & Woodside 2003). This level of co-operation has been important in ensuring the program is holistic and credible. Taking time to ensure all partners take ownership and have confidence in the delivery of the program is essential (Adcock 2007).

PROGRAM DELIVERY The program is delivered through self-selected cluster groups consisting of 5 to 10 farmers established by an interested farmer who acts as the group co-ordinator. These groups play an important role in the program’s success. They provide a forum for discussing topics, an environment of trust and motivation and an enjoyable experience with important social benefits. The combination allows the program to draw all aspects of farm management together

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through discussions and problem-solving. It also creates a broader network across the industry to share information and be involved in all types of activities, including research. A key role is simplifying information into a readily usable and easily accessible form for participants. The program synthesises complex information into checklists and information sheets so that farmers can concentrate on meeting the requirements rather than spending time trying to establish what is required. As the need arises, additional technical expertise is brought into the groups to assist with specific issues or expand on topics in which groups are interested. Streamlining information in this way benefits participants by saving time, money and often frustration. Providing support to farmers is an important aspect, particularly in combining the many aspects of the program. Support is offered on several levels. Groups are supported by regional co-ordinators who work with them to create momentum and motivation and provide information as needed. The combination of the network of cluster groups, regional co-ordinators and industry leadership creates a supporting environment enabling farmers to tackle the broad range of compliance and management issues they face.

PROVIDING RECOGNITION Farmers are generally proud of their achievements and, in a society where criticism of agriculture is increasing, recognising farmers’ achievements is an important facet of the program. Once a participant has met all the benchmarks within a level they can apply to be recognised by the program. This involves providing evidence of their achievements and submitting the information for assessment by an independent body, currently NSW Technical and Further Education (TAFE), selected by a competitive tender process. In keeping with the program’s philosophy of linking production and environmental management, benchmarks within all pathways must be met for each level before gaining recognition.

RESTORING THE BALANCE FOR BIODIVERSITY The rice industry’s biodiversity flagship program is integrated into the Environmental Champions program and from its inception has striven to look at the farming landscape as a whole rather than as islands of habitat in a sea of production. The program sought to learn more about biodiversity in the rice-farming landscape including how production and biodiversity interacted and how biodiversity could be protected and enhanced in the system. Although there was a good level of information on biodiversity in the Riverina bioregion, diversity within rice-farming systems had not been quantified (Doody et al. 2006). The University of Canberra began to research it, via a study of vertebrate diversity. The study, conducted from 2000–2003 on 10 rice farms (Figure 16.1), identified 149 birds, 23 reptiles, 19 mammals, seven frogs and three fish species. It concluded that in the rice-based farming landscape the key landscape elements are productive rice bays and remnant vegetation (Doody et al. 2006). The results showed that seasonal flooding of rice bays led to an increase in average species richness of birds and number of individuals, an influx of turtles which fed in the bays and annual production of hundreds of millions of frogs. The remnant vegetation patches were important for supporting a diversity of lizards and woodland birds.

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The study concluded that rice bays have a significant influence on species abundance while remnant vegetation contributed to species richness, suggesting that the mixture of rice bays and remnant vegetation contributed to overall biodiversity on rice farms (Doody et al. 2006). The results of this study, and the biodiversity strategy developed for the industry by Freudenberger and Stohl (2002), focused the industry’s attention on the need to manage biodiversity across the whole farming landscape. It recognised that remnant vegetation is vitally important but other areas of the farm also provide important habitat. The strategy developed by Freudenberger and Stohl (2002) identified seven major processes threatening biodiversity – rising water tables, poor water quality, livestock stress due to lack of shelter, increased weeds, outbreaks of crop pests and diseases, tree dieback and loss of lifestyle values such as the dawn chorus of woodland birds. It had three broad aims directed at promoting the compositional, structural and functional aspects of biodiversity. These were:

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retain populations of native species that regularly live in the rice-growing region and actively reduce the populations of non-native (feral) species (‘composition’); retain or reconstruct a varied landscape by linking native habitat patches within agricultural lands (‘structure’); maintain the goods and services produced within rice-growing landscapes including agricultural production, clean water, healthy soils and regenerating habitat (‘function’).

A number of specific activities were identified, including:

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planning the farm as a whole unit, doing different things at different times in different parts; reducing the isolation of patches of habitat, aiming for 500–1000 m between patches; aiming for a habitat patch size of 10 ha; using channel banks for revegetation and habitat; ensuring black box and red gum woodland depressions are flooded occasionally to rejuvenate wetland species; minimising pesticide and herbicide use; minimising water loss to the water table and striving to improve water use efficiency; minimising channel-cleaning to avoid overdisturbance of native plants and animals; minimising ditch-grading to avoid overdisturbance of native plants and animals; keeping livestock out of woodland areas at the critical times when trees, shrubs and grasses are germinating and becoming established; renewing ageing paddock trees by fencing and planting more of that species nearby; establishing native seed orchards; using controlled rather than continuous grazing for grasslands and shrublands; revegetating in wide bands of trees (at least five rows wide), linking existing patches of vegetation; if expanding rice production, converting an equivalent land area into high-quality conservation habitat; supporting or initiating improvements to vegetation beside roadsides or stock routes; participating in or initiating co-ordinated neighbourhood control programs for feral animals and weeds; monitoring the results of actions with a camera and notebook for future reference; participating in negotiating new markets and sources of funding.

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Collaboration between researchers and industry is important in building a knowledge base about adaptive management on-farm, which leads to a greater understanding of integrating biodiversity and farming. A second study by the University of Canberra is now looking at the relationship between habitat enhancement and vertebrate diversity and establishing links between vertebrate biodiversity and the production system. In this way, the industry’s biodiversity strategy is seeking to bridge the gap between biodiversity and production by identifying practical ways that biodiversity can be protected and enhanced in a modified farming landscape. The strategy also highlights that participation by a large number of growers is needed for landscape change. The recommendations from the research projects and the industry strategy are being extended to landholders through field walks, vegetation planning incorporated into the land and water management plans of the three regional irrigation companies, and a rewards system that recognises participants’ actions and outcomes. Participation in the program increases knowledge as well as motivation. Some groups have undertaken group vegetation planning to link their individual farm vegetation plans and consider habitat at a larger scale. This has resulted in increased activity in protecting and enhancing habitat through group motivation. Anecdotal examples are gathered and shared between groups. For example, during a mouse plague one farmer noticed that he did not need to control mice in a particular paddock next to remnant vegetation, as owls lived there and preyed on the mice. Another observation was that rice paddocks adjacent to native vegetation suffered much less damage from low temperatures at flowering in January 2005 than those in more exposed areas. Recording incidents such as these build collective knowledge and identify questions for future research that can test the observations.

LOOKING AT THE FARM AS A WHOLE Many conservation programs focus on issues in isolation. The Environmental Champions program was designed to bring a range of existing industry initiatives, such as land and water management plans, together with biodiversity planning into a holistic approach. To do this, the program focused on technical knowledge in Level 1 while Level 2 and above encouraged more holistic thinking. Through an established network of farmers and a strategic pathway, the program facilitates discussion across a range of topics drawing on knowledge and experience from research, other regional programs and organisations, external experts and the farmers themselves. Such discussions help identify knowledge gaps, which feed into future project planning and research strategies. A SWOT analysis (Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities and Threats) is introduced in Level 2 as a tool to look at the farm business as a whole. Through this process, one farming business changed its management of salinity by drawing on group knowledge. Irrigation layouts and crops were changed, saltbush planted, and remnant vegetation protected and revegetated with local native species. The saltbush plantation provided valuable drought fodder in a previously unproductive paddock, and increased habitat. Cropping between wide rows of saltbush is planned when groundwater levels and salt concentrations are managed. Working on a range of topics simultaneously in a group can lead to gains in several areas. For example,

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one grower found that changing his irrigation bays from old-style contoured layout to laserlevelled bays resulted in up to 30% reduction in water use, depending on the crop. The modified layouts and precision agriculture also reduced overlapping in tractor passes, which led to a 20–50% reduction in fuel use and significant time savings (Rob Houghton, pers. comm.).

SUCCESS SO FAR The main benefits from the Environmental Champions program have been high participation rates among farmers and increased co-operation across the region, with 25% of farm businesses participating in the three years since implementation. This has been achieved through the strong sense of program ownership and the cluster group approach, where farmers are inviting other farmers to get involved. Increased co-operation has occurred in the form of knowledge-sharing between organisations including irrigation companies, government agencies, local conservation groups, research institutions and farmers, with 19 different organisations involved to date. At the outset there was a range of programs and plans relating to the Riverina bioregion but communication between them was poor (Woodside 2004). Development of the strategy brought various organisations together to work on biodiversity in the Riverina region, including the citrus, wine grape, horticulture and cotton industries. The Environmental Champions program also resulted in individual farm vegetation plans being combined into more integrated subcatchment activities. The Gogeldrie cluster group, for example, consisting of 10 farms near Leeton in New South Wales, developed a combined vegetation plan linking remnant vegetation and riparian corridors. Over the 2005 and 2006 planting seasons, 42 ha of remnant vegetation was enhanced and 35 ha of new habitat established. Prior to involvement in the group each farm had an individual vegetation plan but little implementation had been undertaken. Through group planning, nearly every individual plan was revised and the total level of activity increased. A key benefit of the program is the social value of cluster groups. Group meetings have given neighbours an opportunity to interact socially, which has had the flow-on effect of helping with farming issues in general, particularly during the tough times of drought.

CHALLENGES FOR THE FUTURE A major challenge is to more clearly establish links between environmental benefits and productivity. Being able to demonstrate production benefits through improved landscape health will further encourage farmers to undertake environmental management. One research strategy of the Environmental Champions program focuses on several key areas to enhance the program’s delivery and achievements, including the links between enhanced biodiversity, management of greenhouse gas emissions and productivity. Another strategy is to find mechanisms to reward farmers for positive public-good environmental outcomes; this is being developed in Levels 4 and 5 of the program, incorporating market-based instruments. A major challenge is to clearly document and demonstrate the program’s achievements in terms of improved environmental condition.

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REFERENCES Adcock L (2007). Pathways to industry EMS program: final report. Ricegrowers Association of Australia: Leeton, NSW. Doody JS, Osborne W, Bourne D, Rennie B & Sims RA (2006). Vertebrate biodiversity on Australian rice farms. University of Canberra: ACT. Freudenberger D & Stohl J (2002). A biodiversity strategy and plan for the Australian rice industry. CSIRO Sustainable Ecosystems: Canberra. Linnegar M & Woodside D (2003). Australian rice takes the lead in environmental change. In Proceedings of 3rd international temperate rice conference. Punta del Este, Uruguay. Woodside D (2004). Biodiversity and irrigated agriculture: a model strategy in rice growing regions. Corporate & Community Sustainability International: Sydney.

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17 Profitable and biodiverse wool production: the Land, Water & Wool program Jann Williams and Mary Goodacre

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n 2002, Australian Wool Innovation Ltd, a research corporation partly funded by woolgrower levies, and the Australian government research and development corporation Land & Water Australia formed the joint venture Land, Water & Wool to improve environmental management in the wool industry. Over the next five years, $19.5 million was invested by the wool industry and a similar amount contributed by other organisations. This chapter begins by reviewing the biodiversity component of that program (the Native Vegetation and Biodiversity subprogram) and concludes with a first-hand account by a participating woolgrower. The goal of the native vegetation and biodiversity subprogram was to develop options for integrating the protection, management and restoration of native vegetation (pastures and bushland) and biodiversity with profitable wool production. Woolgrowers manage a significant area of Australia’s native vegetation and its associated biodiversity including native pastures, native bushland, wetlands and waterways. Many ecological communities and species in southern and eastern Australia are now very restricted in extent and often highly dependent on private land managers such as woolgrowers for their existence. The overall biodiversity and conservation goal was to maintain and enhance biodiversity in the context of commercial woolgrowing properties. The native vegetation and biodiversity subprogram had a budget of just under $2.5 million in cash with a further $2.6 million in funds leveraged as co-investment (Coutts 2006). The majority of the funding was used to support five regionally based projects in the high-rainfall and sheep-wheat zones of Australia. The projects were located in South Australia, Tasmania,

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Victoria, New South Wales and south-east Queensland. Selected regions were those where researchers and woolgrowers wanted to work together. In addition to the regional projects, a monitoring manual called Quickchecks was developed to be nationally relevant and locally applicable (Land & Water Australia 2007). The team approach involved a part-time co-ordinator and an advisory group (Sustainable Wool Advisory Group) who helped tailor messages from the research and identify advocates, who helped deliver those messages to woolgrowers, natural resource management bodies, government agencies and the media. Across the five regional projects there was a wide range of variation in landscapes, property sizes, stocking rates, fertiliser use and amount of native vegetation present. For instance, near Clare in South Australia there was only 2% native vegetation remaining while in Tasmania and south-east Queensland some properties had up to 98% native vegetation. A participatory research model was adopted in which woolgrowers played an essential part by identifying research issues, participating in steering committees, collecting data from their own properties and having a say in how project findings were communicated. About 70 woolgrowers were intimately involved throughout the five years and many more were involved through field days and other events. The research teams involved in the regional projects were multi-disciplinary and used a diversity of approaches to address the overall question of how to integrate native vegetation into commercial woolgrowing operations. The range of techniques included plant and animal surveys, grazing trials, case studies, environmental modelling, whole-farm economic modelling, interviews, surveys and Photovoice, a social science technique which examines sense of place (Pretty 2006). An important aspect involved ecologists in farming systems research which introduced a different type of expertise from that generally found in more production-focused research. In order to integrate biodiversity and production, it was important to find out what was on the properties. Biological surveys on farms across the five regions documented the native plant and animal species found on woolgrowing properties. The lowest number of native mammals and birds was found in the northern midlands of South Australia, the region with the highest rate of tree clearance and lowest percentage of native pastures. Results from surveys of participating commercial woolgrowing properties showed that:

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ground-feeding birds co-exist with sheep grazing in south-east Queensland, as do several threatened Macrozamia species; threatened large-eared pied bats occur on woolgrowing properties on the northern tablelands of New South Wales; koalas and woodland-dependent bird species have returned to revegetated patches in the same area; farm dams and artificial wetlands provide important habitat for frogs; many threatened native plant species rely on sheep grazing to maintain their habitat in the Tasmanian Midlands.

In addition to describing the elements of biodiversity on farms, the projects examined options for integrating biodiversity into production systems. Five main components of a healthy grazing system were consistently identified across all regions as conducive to achieving both production and conservation outcomes. These were livestock grazing, soil health and groundcover, woody vegetation, pastures and herbs, and farm waterways. The way these different components are managed depends on the local context. Soils and groundcover, for example,

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were important management issues for all woolgrowers, with many aiming for 100% groundcover to minimise soil erosion. However, it was found that this level of groundcover may be problematic for the regeneration of some native forbs and herbs that require gaps between plants to germinate. Mary Goodacre’s personal experience, described below, demonstrates some of the challenges of managing groundcover.

MANAGING WOODY VEGETATION Woody vegetation is one of the easier areas to talk about in terms of multiple benefits. Both native and introduced woody vegetation played a range of roles in providing habitat for mammals, birds and bats but were also important for shade and shelter for sheep and pastures. Bird surveys on 24 wool properties between Walcha and Glen Innes in northern New South Wales recorded 109 bird species, with species numbers lowest in pasture areas with no trees and highest in wooded riparian zones (Reid 2006a). Areas with scattered trees and windbreaks in pasture fell between these two habitat types. Similarly, work in south-east Queensland found that the presence of trees on grazing properties allowed a rich and abundant bird fauna to coexist with moderate levels of grazing. Whole-farm economic modelling suggested that the cost of revegetation could be covered by production benefits from shade and shelter through higher lambing percentages (up by 10%), fewer deaths (down by 50%) and increased sales of surplus ewes and hoggets (Thompson 2006). On average, gross margins improved by $11/ha. The study also showed that over a 20-year period a farm with shelterbelts planted on contour banks had a greater net farm income than the same farm without planted contours. On some properties, timber harvesting may be a viable option to provide additional income.

GRAZING MANAGEMENT A finding from the New South Wales regional project was that, irrespective of the type of production system, any wool property can make a worthwhile contribution to nature conservation (Reid 2006b). To achieve this, the managers need to be informed about the natural values of their property and willing to manage parts of it for conservation or in a conservation-compatible way (Reid 2006b). The many options available to woolgrowers identified in Reid (2006b) demonstrated that NRM and ‘this environmental stuff’ is doable on-farm and not necessarily an expense to production. Similarly, in Victoria the project identified four management options involving manipulating grazing regimes, fertiliser use and natural regeneration of tree cover that could satisfy conservation and production goals (Land & Water Australia 2006). Sheep grazing is the main tool of graziers for managing native pastures and wool production. The subprogram found that sheep grazing can have positive and negative impacts on biodiversity, and can be compatible with the conservation of most native plant species. Research in Tasmania found that threatened native plant species in the Midlands region such as Leucochrysum albicans (grassland paper daisy) and Colobanthus curtisiaerelies (grassland cupflower) were commonly found in well-managed sheep grazing habitats (Kirkpatrick et al. 2005). The authors concluded that, in native pasture systems with relatively low stocking rates

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and low fertiliser use, sheep grazing was compatible with high native plant species diversity including threatened and declining species. It is important to drill down in terms of what we mean by grazing, because grazing is a term that people will throw around. For example, people say that grazing and biodiversity are incompatible, when they are really talking about over-grazing. It needs to be appreciated that grazing management has many elements. We propose the replacement of grazing with the term grazing ‘regime’, which better reflects the range of factors that managers can manipulate. It is important to consider specific aspects of a grazing regime such as intensity, season and frequency when considering multiple goals. There is increasing interest within livestock industries in a range of related grazing systems such as rotational grazing, cell grazing and planned grazing. A common principle is that large mobs of sheep are grazed for short periods in any one paddock and moved according to the growth stage of plants. In the South Australian part of the subprogram, a planned grazing trial that ran for six years increased stocking rates and financial returns as well as maintaining ecosystem function (Kahn et al. 2005). However, planned grazing is not a panacea. People use a wide range of different grazing systems to suit their needs. In the Tasmanian context there is ongoing research into the links between planned grazing and conservation outcomes. Another finding from the New South Wales project is that woolgrowers found that the highest level of wool production came from pastures with high species diversity including a mix of exotic and native species. These pastures also have conservation benefits, not only through the presence of native species but through indirect impacts on water quality and soil management. This reinforces the need for flexible attitudes to the presence of exotic and endemic species in these landscapes. Victorian Land, Water & Wool research found that high levels of phosphorus reduced the number of plant species in native pastures (Dorrough et al. 2006). This information has been useful as it enables growers to predict the likely outcome of their management decisions. It indicated that above certain thresholds of soil phosphorus, native pastures could be tipped towards pastures dominated by introduced annual grasses and clovers (Mokany et al. 2006). In the interests of more informed decision-making, this information was presented not as what should be done but as what is likely to occur under different circumstances.

DIVERSITY FROM PADDOCK TO LANDSCAPE SCALES One of the roles of this national overview was to look at messages that came across a range of the projects. One important finding across all projects was that having a diversity of management practices and vegetation types at farm and landscape level helps maintain biodiversity over time (Kirkpatrick & Bridle 2007; LeBroque et al. 2005; Reid et al. 2006). This makes sense, because such diversity supports a range of habitats for many species. The survey work supported this finding by showing that different species used different structures and parts of the landscape. Fire is also really important in creating diversity as well, but has been removed from many grazing systems. Another finding was the importance of considering biodiversity in the context of the whole farming system. A formal whole-farm plan allows people to see how biodiversity fits within their range of goals. A system approach combined with good management skills was a feature of woolgrowing properties that supported high levels of biodiversity. Recognition needs to be given that people are running a business and biodiversity is a part of that. 180

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SENSE OF PLACE So far this chapter has focused on sheep and pastures. It has referred to the importance of good management skills but hasn’t touched on the strong connections that woolgrowers have with place. This strong connection was a common theme across the subprogram, as well as Land, Water & Wool more generally. A technique called Photovoice (Pretty 2006) was used in southeast Queensland to investigate how woolgrowers related to their landscapes. The project found that if a change in the landscape threatens a landholder’s sense of place, it will be a barrier to attitude change and natural resource management practice (Cockfield 2006). The book People, sheep and nature (Kirkpatrick & Bridle 2007), produced as part of the Tasmanian project, describes the history of sheep grazing in Tasmania from 1803 to the present and emphasises the importance of people in grazing landscapes. An important finding for natural resource management programs and policies coming from this work is that conservation advice should be delivered in the context of the farm/business as well as recognising the importance of a landowner’s sense of place. Dunbabin and Dunbabin (Chapter 9, this volume) argue that biodiversity and natural values are a driving force behind sense of place, and that partnerships between governments, the wider community and landowners concerned with our future landscapes, their goals and practices need to be based on trust and respect for this strong sense of place.

‘GOIMBLA’ CASE STUDY One of the tools developed by the Land, Water & Wool program that we’ve been using on our farm is a tool called Quickchecks (Land & Water Australia 2007). This was developed by a very clever fellow in Dubbo in New South Wales with a group of woolgrowers to help woolgrowers determine what they need to monitor to achieve their goals. It is based on the principle that you only want to track things that mean something to you. Quickchecks helped us develop a vision for our place and select the monitoring tools to get us there. The importance of clear goals and good management skills cannot be overemphasised, particularly when it comes to management of sheep grazing. A clear goal was important for us because when we bought our property five years ago it was very rundown. In the long term we want to improve groundcover and pasture species diversity while increasing productivity. One of our strong motivators is avoiding soil erosion. It was obvious that the neighbouring property had been receiving soil from our farm for the last 50 years – we didn’t want to give them more. That meant groundcover became important to us. A farmer we met through Land, Water & Wool observed, ‘Bare ground is directly proportional to depression during a drought’. After a good spring we managed to get about 95% groundcover in the paddock shown in Figure 17.1 but that dropped to about 85% the following year. It sounds good, but is not good enough for us. The interesting thing we noticed was that bare ground let different species creep in. We were faced with a dilemma about managing diversity and groundcover, and are still thinking about how to do that. I am really happy with the areas where the summer-active native grasses are appearing. Last year we had native red grass (Bothriochloa macra) come up during summer, following a storm. This created an enormous amount of habitat for quails (Coturnix spp.) and ground larks (Anthus novaeseelandiae), which scare the daylights out of us when we walk through the paddock by flying up virtually under our feet! The great thing is, we’re now getting feed and 181

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Figure 17.1: Groundcover on Goimbla

entertainment. Walking through the paddock helps us get a feel for the amount of cover and the diversity of species. The other things we monitor are distance between perennial plants, number of perennial species and weed density. We only have two years of data (Figure 17.2) and are looking forward to 25, 30 or 50 years of data to give us a feel for the best management strategies to repair what we have inherited. Our other tools include fences, chainsaws (when trees occasionally cause havoc with fences) and, of course, sheep. Sheep are the main tool we use to get us to where we want to be. When tools are in the hands of good and careful owners who have a vision for their place, they will manage to achieve their vision. When tools are in the hands of people who are not clear about where they want to be and are not particularly careful about the way they use them, they become quite dangerous. So, we think about our management practices in terms of both our goals and the careful use of the tools at our disposal. Whether your tool is a chainsaw or a mob of sheep, an inexperienced or careless user can sever an artery – a human one or an ecological one. Our farm is not just a place of business; it means a lot more to us. There is a place on a hillside to which we often take visitors. Anybody else would probably think it’s a rubbish piece of land, of no value at all, but has the most glorious view. It’s one of those places that reminds us that a farm is more than a business, it is more than a place to live. Goimbla is actually a record of the things that we have done in our lives over the last few years. Land, Water & Wool

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Figure 17.2: Percentage of plant species recorded in 2006 and 2007 in ‘Unlikely Paddock’ at Goimbla using the Quickchecks monitoring tool Source: Land & Water Australia (2007)

has helped people think about where they want to be, and how research and extension people can engage with woolgrowers. Another useful process we’ve learnt about is the five Ps – profit, proof, people, place and promise (Lovett & Price 2007). It’s another way to help researchers and extension people think about how to connect with farmers, because I think we often underestimate how much people feel for their place.

SUMMARY The native vegetation and biodiversity subprogram of Land, Water & Wool identified a number of options that generate conservation and production benefits and, importantly, a number of different entry points depending on a particular landholder’s interests, the nature of their farm and the nature of their landscape (Reid 2006b). One of the primary tools for achieving production and conservation goals is strategic grazing management, based on the biology of pasture and stock. A significant finding was that in the modified and fragmented systems of south-east Australia, where other disturbance regimes such as fire and grazing by native herbivores have been modified, sheep may now be essential for the conservation of some plants. Rules of thumb have been developed for fertiliser use, managing grazing-sensitive plants and the impacts of grazing strategies on natural resources. Having a diversity of management practices and vegetation types is beneficial for native plant and animal species, with woody vegetation providing important habitat for a range of birds, mammals and bats. Managing all these different elements on a farm demonstrates the importance of whole-property planning, managing to land capability and having clear goals and good management skills. Another very important lesson is that, with the understandable emphasis on profit, the importance of sense of place is often overlooked (Wagg et al. 2007). Agencies and people who

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work with producers need to be aware of and recognise the significance of sense of place and consider their advice in that context as well as that of the business. Since Land, Water & Wool officially ended in early 2007, Australian Wool Innovation has invested in additional activities such as the advocates program which employs a person in each south-east state whose job is to communicate the findings of Land, Water & Wool. The program has put considerable effort into translating research findings to reach a wide range of target audiences, which is considered critical to its long-term success. Making products easily accessible is also important, with most available on the Land, Water & Wool website: www.landwaterwool.gov.au.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Jann and Mary would like to thank the many people involved in the native vegetation and biodiversity subprogram and Land, Water & Wool more generally. There are too many to mention by name, but they know who they are! There is one person we would particularly like to mention, as he has a lasting place in our hearts. Kim Mitchell was the lynchpin in the communications team that supported Land, Water & Wool. Unfortunately, Kim passed away just before this conference, at the age of 35. He did a fantastic job with Land, Water & Wool and was a wonderful person, so we would specially like to acknowledge his contribution.

REFERENCES Cockfield G (2006). USQ5: integrating paddock and catchment planning: a woolgrower driven approach to sustainable landscape management. Milestone no. 4 and final report. University of Southern Queensland: Toowoomba. Coutts J (2006). Native vegetation and biodiversity subprogram evaluation report. Coutts J&R: Toowoomba. Dorrough J, Moxham C, Turner V & Sutter G (2006). Soil phosphorus and tree cover modify the effects of livestock grazing on plant species richness in Australian grassy woodland. Biological Conservation 130, 394–405. Kahn L, Earl J & Nicholls M (2005). Planning as a tool to improve production and function of grasslands in the mid-north of South Australia. In Grassland conservation and production: both sides of the fence. Proceedings of 4th Stipa conference on management of native grasses and pastures (eds C O’Dwyer & S Hamilton), pp. 24–30. FLFR University of Melbourne: Dookie Campus. Kirkpatrick JB & Bridle K (2007). People, sheep and nature conservation: the Tasmanian experience. CSIRO Publishing: Melbourne. Kirkpatrick JB, Gilfedder L, Bridle K & Zacharek A (2005). The positive and negative conservation impacts of sheep grazing and other disturbances on the vascular plant species and vegetation of lowland subhumid Tasmania. Ecological Management and Restoration 6, 51–60. Land & Water Australia (2006). Extension note 1: farm businesses, wool production and biodiversity. Land & Water Australia: Canberra. Land & Water Australia (2007). Quickchecks: healthy land, healthy woolgrowing businesses. Natural resource management tools for woolgrowers. Land & Water Australia: Canberra.

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Le Broque AF, Goodhew K & Cockfield G (2005). Effect of vegetation management in woodland communities in the Traprock region. Technical report. University of Southern Queensland, Queensland Murray–Darling Committee, Traprock Wool Association: Toowoomba. Lovett S & Price P (2007). Managing rivers and streams in Tasmania: a woolgrower’s guide. Land & Water Australia: Canberra. Mokany K, Friend D, Kirkpatrick J & Gilfedder L (2006). Managing Tasmanian native pastures: a technical guide for graziers. Tasmanian Institute of Agricultural Research: Hobart. Pretty G (2006). Woolgrowers’ psychological engagement with their properties and implications for the management of biodiversity and sustainability. Technical report. University of Southern Queensland, Queensland Murray–Darling Committee, Traprock Wool Association: Toowoomba. Reid N (2006a). Birds on New England wool properties: a woolgrowers’ guide. Land, Water & Wool Northern Tablelands project fact sheet 10. Southern New England Land Care: Armidale. Available online at www.landwaterwool.gov.au. Reid N (2006b). How to lift wool profits and improve biodiversity: a woolgrower guide. Land, Water & Wool Northern Tablelands project fact sheet 1. Southern New England Land Care: Armidale. Reid N, Green S & MacGregor S (2006). Fauna on case study farms. Land, Water & Wool Northern Tablelands project fact sheet 6. Land, Water & Wool: Canberra. Available online at www. landwaterwool.gov.au. Thompson D (2006). Economics and the environment: not mutually exclusive. A technical guide. Land, Water & Wool Northern Tablelands project fact sheet 8. Southern New England Land Care: Armidale. Available online at www.landwaterwool.gov.au. Wagg M, Lawson A & Pattinson P (2007). Land, Water & Wool: program management report. Land & Water Australia: Canberra.

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18 How research influences management: a case study of barramundi in northern Australia Janet Ley

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anagement of oceans and estuaries, like all natural resources, needs to be underpinned by scientific knowledge. Achieving this requires communication between scientists, natural resource managers and the wider community. This case study examines how some research on barramundi (Lates calcarifer) has influenced the management of that fishery in north-east Australia and other research has not. This case study is presented in three parts. First, there is an outline of the fisheries assessment process carried out by the Department of Environment Water Heritage and the Arts (DEWHA, formerly Department of Environment and Heritage or DEH) under the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999. This is followed by an account of how the assessment process was applied to the barramundi fishery, and how research on bycatch was incorporated into the assessment process while research on more complex implications of commercial fishing was not. Finally, we present ideas that might improve communication between scientists, policy-makers and managers to enable more complex ecological research to be incorporated into the assessment process.

THE FISHERY ASSESSMENT PROCESS The Australian government’s fishery assessment process forms part of the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999. In 2001, guidelines for implementing this assessment process were issued by DEH (DEH 2001). There is a strong incentive to comply

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North Mid South

Figure 18.1: The study area, showing pairs of open and closed riverine estuaries. North: Russell/ Mulgrave (closed) and Hull (open). Mid: Haughton (closed) and Barrattas (open). South: Yellow Gin (closed) and Nobbies Inlet (open).

with the program as permits for the export of seafood products are only granted to fisheries that successfully complete the assessment process. The guidelines provide a straightforward framework for developing fishery management plans and associated monitoring procedures. For Commonwealth-managed fisheries, technical submissions addressing the guidelines are prepared by the Australian Fisheries Management Authority. For state- and territory-managed fisheries, relevant authorities accredited by DEWHA undertake the preparation of technical submissions. These technical submissions are evaluated by DEWHA staff then forwarded to the Minister for the Environment Water Heritage and the Arts. In assessing a fishery under the guidelines, DEWHA staff consider the technical submissions plus other supporting material, including input from the public. A document is prepared which describes the fishery, highlights factors relevant to the guidelines and lists recommendations (DEWHA fishery assessment). Up to December 2006, all mandated fisheries had been assessed and approved and each fishery given an export permit on behalf of the responsible minister (DEH 2006a). Most of the approvals had caveats; DEWHA is conducting five-year reassessments of these fisheries to see how many caveats have been met. The guidelines require a fishery to follow two principles:

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a fishery must be conducted in a manner that does not lead to overfishing; fishing operations should minimise their impact on the ecosystem through bycatch, by disturbing protected and threatened species, and by degrading the ecosystem generally.

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This case study focuses on how these principles were applied to the East Coast Inshore Finfish Fishery in north Queensland, specifically the tropical east coast barramundi fishery between Cairns and Bowen (Figure 18.1).

ASSESSMENT OF THE EAST COAST INSHORE FINFISH FISHERY Barramundi is a highly prized fish and a preferred target species of both commercial and recreational fisheries, mainly in the northern sector of the region. The commercial catch is 320 t (2004) and the fishery is allowed to fish in over 110 estuaries and nearshore waters, with closed seasons for the estuaries in the barramundi spawning season (1 November to 1 February) (DEH 2006b). In the riverine estuaries, licensed commercial fishers may set gill nets if stretched-mesh sizes are 150–215 mm. As part of the regulatory program, nine estuaries in the region have been closed to the commercial fishery. These closures took place at the incentive of the recreational fishing sector to reduce conflict between the commercial and recreational fisheries. There are several conflicting objectives. The first is that the region is part of the Great Barrier Reef World Heritage Area, with very high tourism and biodiversity values. Tourism alone is valued at $5 billion per year for the Barrier Reef. There is also the need to balance tourism and conservation with commercial fishing interests ($39 million per year from East Coast Fishery) and recreational fishing (DEH 2006b). A large number of people fish and are passionate about their rights to continue fishing, with 750 000 recreational fishers in Queensland (DEH 2006b). The status of this fishery is that barramundi catch has been steadily increasing since data were first collected in 1988. There are four main taxonomic groups that make up the fishery catch: barramundi, sharks, blue threadfin (Eleutheronema tetradactylum) and king threadfin (Polydactylus macrochir) (Figure 18.2). Barramundi yield is greatest in the mid region, with overall catch increasing sharply in 2000. Blue and king threadfin yield, an important component of the fishery, has fallen since 2003, while shark yield increased sharply from 1998 to 2001, exceeding barramundi catch. The available data (DPI&F 2007a) does not allow identification of species composition of the shark catch or location of nets (i.e. within the estuary or elsewhere). Furthermore, while the catch weight reported in fishers’ logbooks indicates the body weight of whole sharks landed, no information is provided on the number of sharks and other related species killed for fins and discarded at sea (Gribble et al. 2005). Two types of research on the fishery were available at the time of the DEH fishery assessment: research concerned with bycatch and other direct impacts of the fishery (Halliday et al. 2001) and research examining broader impacts of fishing operations (e.g. recruitment, population viability, trophic changes) based on a study of paired estuaries closed and open to commercial fishing. The research on the broader ecosystem impacts is available in a report (Halliday et al. 2001), three peer-reviewed publications available at the time of assessment (Ley et al. 2002; Ley & Halliday 2003, 2004) and three more recent peer-reviewed publications (Ley 2005, 2007; Ley & Halliday 2007). The research on direct impacts included a survey of bycatch in 1999 and 2000 using observers on fishing boats plus voluntary logbook data. Data from 222 net sets showed that 87% of the catch was target or byproduct species, primarily sold locally (Figure 18.3). In other words, almost everything caught was sold at local restaurants and fish markets, representing a high

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A. BARRAMUNDI YIELD 60

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Figure 18.2: Yield (tonnes) of the four top taxonomic groups of species landed in the northern sector of the East Coast Fishery, between Bowen and Cairns Source: DPI&F (2007a)

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Figure 18.3: Species composition (% of numbers caught) of the catch and byproduct components of the fishery, as recorded in observer surveys during 1999 and 2000 Source: Adapted from Halliday et al. (2001)

level of byproduct and a valuable asset to the area. Only 13% of the fishery was discarded bycatch. The bycatch comprised mostly undersized barramundi, soapy jewfish (Nibea soldado) and sea catfish (Ariidae). Of the discarded components, observers found that undersized threadfin suffered high levels of mortality due to capture in the fishing operations (overnight sets). In contrast, undersized barramundi had high post-capture survival rates. Bull sharks (Carcharhinus leucas) retained as byproduct comprised 4% of the total number of fish caught while 2% were other species of sharks (e.g. scalloped hammerhead, (Sphyrna lewini), all of which were discarded. The DEH fishery assessment was approved in December 2006 with 18 recommendations. Fourteen of the recommendations related to Principle 1 (overfishing), and dealt with the need for stock assessments of species and risk analysis. Five related specifically to shark. The remaining four recommendations related to Principle 2 (broader impacts of the fishery), with one on bycatch and three relating to protected species (dugong, marine turtles, crocodiles, sea snakes, sawfish and cetaceans). None of the recommendations addressed the general ecosystem effects of the fishery such as impacts on ecological communities (e.g. diversity of species), species interactions (e.g. predator–prey relationships) or the food chain. The reason given in the report for not including recommendations related to those aspects was ‘lack of available research’. Significantly, there was no reference to the studies cited above on the broader effects of net fishing. The studies overlooked by the assessment report examined the effects of closing estuaries to commercial fishing on the diversity and abundances of target, non-target and prey species. This research received most of a $2.5 million grant over three years from the Fisheries Research and Development Corporation and was a joint project between the Queensland Department of Primary Industries and the Australian Institute of Marine Science. Why was the research overlooked? The fishery managers who prepared the submission stated that the research was not incorporated into the assessment because of the complexity of the issues and controversy surrounding the use of spatial fishery closures as fisheries management tools (see Sale et al. 2005). However, the issue of fishery closures and the findings of this research will be addressed in later phases of the planning process now underway, according to officials at the

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Queensland Department of Primary Industries and Fisheries. During the comment period on draft management proposals, there were numerous requests from the public for additional commercial closures (DPI&F 2007b). There is a perception that such closures may be the only practical way to address the broader ecosystem effects of fishing. Developing scientific support for such closures requires the synthesis of complex findings and their translation into potential management actions. The rest of this case study attempts to address this problem by interpreting the results of one study in the form of management recommendations.

RESEARCH INTO THE IMPACTS OF COMMERCIAL FISHING Between 1998 and 2000, a study was conducted to examine the impacts of commercial fishing on target and non-target species in the East Coast Fishery. The study involved three pairs of estuaries, each pair consisting of one estuary open to the commercial fishery and the other closed. As there was evidence of differences in habitat and fish communities between the dry tropics in the southern part of the area and the wet tropics in the north, pairs of estuaries were selected in the north, middle and southern regions of the fishery. By monitoring fish communities in the paired estuaries along a major portion of the coast, any spatial variation in effects of the fishing closures could be compared across the study area. Monitoring over two years (March 1998–March 2000) enabled the research team to see how the effects varied seasonally. Variability within estuaries (upstream and down) was also considered in the sampling design. A range of research gill nets was used, with the largest mesh (152 mm) comparable to the smallest commercial mesh size (150 mm). Fish were sampled with eight large mesh nets (102–152 mm) set for six hours (3–9 pm) and checked hourly (1146 day, 635 dusk, 872 night checks). Four smaller-mesh nets (19–51 mm) were set for one hour before and after sunset (77 day, 78 night checks).

TRANSLATING RESEARCH RESULTS INTO MANAGEMENT The research results were accepted by the scientific community but have not yet been taken up by the management community. This section revisits the overlooked results and places them within the framework of the fishery assessment process, the principles set out in the DEH guidelines. PRINCIPLE 1: OVERFISHING Catch rates of three of the four main target and byproduct species (barramundi (Lates calcarifer), bull shark (Carcharhinus leucas) and king threadfin (Polydactylus macrochir)) were over three times greater in estuaries closed to fishing than in open estuaries (significant at p < 0.0001, Figure 18.4). Depletion by fishing operations is the most likely factor for the lower catch rates in the open estuaries (Ley et al. 2002). BARRAMUNDI Catch rates of both legal and undersized barramundi were lower in open estuaries (Figure 18.5). As undersized barramundi have been found to effectively avoid capture in the 150 mm mesh commercial fishing nets (Ley et al. 2002), their reduced numbers in the open estuaries suggests reduced productivity, most likely resulting from recruitment overfishing.

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A. BARRAMUNDI 700 600 500 400 300 200 100 0

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Figure 18.4: Abundance of selected species netted by the research teams in the fisheryindependent research element (see Figure 18.1 for locations)

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Length (mm) Figure 18.5: Length–frequency distribution of barramundi in estuaries closed and open to commercial net fishing (all nets combined). Minimum size 580 mm length

To test this assumption, a model of egg production, based on fish length, was applied to the catch data. It suggested that egg production in the closed estuaries was likely to be 21 times greater than in the open estuaries (Figure 18.6) (Ley & Halliday 2003). This difference was due to the lack of females in larger more fecund size classes. As with many tropical species, barramundi are hermaphrodite. Individuals mature as males and later transform into females, achieving a 50:50 sex ratio at about 820 mm length. With the current minimal size of 580 mm, the fishery is allowed to capture individuals before they reach the size when a substantial percentage of the individuals begin to transform into females (Figure 18.7). The model suggests a higher likelihood of sustainability if the minimum legal size was increased to 820 mm. However, as larger barramundi are not desirable to the market (Ley et al. 2002) an alternative strategy needs to be found. Barramundi spawn at the mouths of rivers. The larvae develop in coastal swamps and juveniles move up into freshwater wetlands to grow and develop (Ley et al. 2002). Within a catchment and within an embayment they are genetically discrete and self-sustaining populations. Given the evidence that recruitment overfishing may exist and that reproductive potential is very low in open estuaries, the most likely explanation for the continued survival of the stocks is that populations in closed estuaries subsidise populations in neighbouring fished estuaries through spillover of adults and recruitment of larvae and juveniles (Hastings & Botsford 1999; Almany et al. 2007). In other words, unfished estuaries may be essential in maintaining the sustainability of the fishery in neighbouring estuaries. If the minimum legal size cannot be substantially increased, an alternative recommendation for sustainability of the fishery would be to establish a strategically designed network of protected estuaries to support neighbouring fished estuaries. This recommendation is consistent with international design principles for marine reserves as tools in fisheries management (Botsford et al. 2001, 2003; Worm et al. 2007).

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Egg production

Figure 18.6: Comparison of annual eggs (millions) produced by barramundi females per year, estimates derived from a length-based egg production model Source: Ley & Halliday (2003)

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Recommendation 1: Mesh size in commercial nets should be increased so that a sufficient number of larger barramundi are retained to transform into females and ensure viability of the populations. Recommendation 2: A network of protected estuaries should be established so that every fished estuary has a neighbouring estuary protected from commercial fishing to act as a source of larvae, juveniles and adults.

SHARKS In recent years, the East Coast Fishery has become increasingly dedicated to shark fishing (Gribble et al. 2005). This change has been driven by demand for shark meat and shark fins, many of which are exported to Asian countries. This is an important issue in the assessment process due to the legislative focus on conservation of exported fishery products. Bull shark (Carcharhinus leucas) was the only species that was abundantly netted in our study, with lower numbers caught in rivers open to net fishing. Four times as many bull sharks (122) were netted in estuaries closed to commercial net fishing as in open estuaries (31) (Figure 18.4c). Sharks have a different life history from barramundi: adults live largely offshore with the females being livebearers, giving birth at the mouths of estuarine rivers. Newborn sharks (550–800 mm at birth) head upstream and, due to their size and shape, are vulnerable to large-mesh commercial gill nets (150 mm). Based on the size-classes of bull sharks those netted in this study

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100%

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(650–800 mm) were juveniles, presumably in their first year of life, suggesting these estuaries provide a nursery habitat for bull sharks. This strengthens the case for instituting a network of closed systems to sustain these populations (Recommendation 2). Given the hourly check regime, none of the sharks captured in the research nets died. However, some were obviously weakened by struggling to free themselves from the net, and may have died later. This finding supports net attendance and reductions in soak times in the fishery (see below). The intrinsic rate of natural increase of a species (r) is a measure of the resilience of a population to perturbations such as fishing (Trenkel & Rochet 2003). Barramundi, with an r value of 1.0 are relatively more resilient than bull sharks with an r value of 0.3 (Froese & Pauly 2007) and could withstand over three times the fishing pressure of bull sharks. If fishing effort is applied at a rate that achieves maximum sustainable yield for the more resilient species, the less resilient species eventually faces eradication (Sparre & Venema 1998). To achieve a sustainable fishery, considering populations of both species, fishing effort should be applied at a level consistent with the maximum sustainable yield for the less resilient species. This suggests a reduced effort is required in the fishery, to ensure the persistence of bull sharks. Other studies have suggested that measures are required to conserve shark populations in all habitats throughout the northern Queensland east coast, with work by Robbins et al. (2006) indicating that relatively greater shark populations only occur on coral reefs subject to strictly enforced fishing closures. Closure of estuaries to fishing may be the most effective measure in conserving estuarine stocks (Recommendation 2).

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Recommendation 3: Nets should be removed from the water two to three hours after dark and not left unattended overnight, to limit death and stress in juvenile shark species.

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Recommendation 4: Fishing effort should be reduced to levels appropriate for the sustainable capture of bull sharks rather than barramundi, as they are more sensitive to overfishing.

KING THREADFIN Catch rates of both legal and undersized king threadfin were lower in open systems (Figure 18.4d). Data showed that 150 mm mesh gill nets used by commercial fishers within open rivers would also catch substantial numbers of smaller king threadfin (Ley et al. 2002). Threadfin either died or swam away in a noticeably weakened condition after release from our research nets. This finding further strengthens the case for Recommendation 2, establishing a more complete network of estuaries closed to commercial fishing. PRINCIPLE 2: ADDRESSING IMPACTS ON THE ECOSYSTEM – ECOLOGICAL COMMUNITIES These estuarine systems have a high level of biodiversity, as indicated by the occurrence of 141 species sampled overall. Number of species and individuals, as well as two indices of biodiversity, were significantly greater in estuaries closed to net fishing for the large-mesh nets (Figure 18.8) (Ley et al. 2002). This finding strengthens the case for Recommendation 2, establishing a more complete network of estuaries closed to commercial fishing. It has been demonstrated throughout the world that establishing protected marine areas is an effective approach to biodiversity conservation (Halpern 2003). PRINCIPLE 2: ADDRESSING IMPACTS ON THE ECOSYSTEM – FOOD CHAINS A trophic cascade occurs when a change in the size of one population leads to a change in the size of populations lower in the food web. Consistent with this concept, greater predation levels in closed systems were expected to lead to less prey caught in the finer-mesh nets (51 mm and multi-panel 19/25/32 mm mesh). The most abundant top predator targeted in the fishery (large barramundi) mainly consumes smaller fish such as ambassids, mullet and herring (Ley et al. 2002; Ley & Halliday 2007). The study found no evidence of this, as catch rates and composition of prey species were similar in open and closed estuaries (Ley et al. 2002). The difference in numbers of predators between open and closed systems may not have been great enough to generate detectable top-down effects in relative abundances of their main prey (Jennings et al. 2001), suggesting the food webs of these estuaries are resilient to the impacts of fishing pressure at its current level. Numbers of herring and similar prey species may be more closely linked with availability of their food supply (mainly small invertebrates) than predation, making these systems controlled by bottom-up rather than top-down processes. Overall catch rates were found to be 2.2 times greater after sunset, indicating that most feeding activity is at night (Ley & Halliday 2007). Both herring (Herklotsichthys castelnaui), the most abundant small prey species, and barramundi are primarily nocturnally active. Catch rates of herring increased at sunset apparently because they moved from mangrove habitats to forage on invertebrates emerging from the sediments in the open waters of the estuary. Barramundi feeding behaviour (e.g. pursuing herring) caused catch rates to strongly peak immediately after sunset, curtailing by about 9 pm (Ley & Halliday 2007). This finding has implications for managing the fishery, i.e. substantial yields of barramundi (and most other target species such as threadfin) would be maintained if

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A. NUMBER OF SPECIES PER SAMPLE 6.0 5.0 4.0 3.0 2.0 1.0 0.0 Open

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B. NUMBER OF INDIVIDUALS PER SAMPLE 18.0 16.0 14.0 12.0 10.0 8.0 6.0 4.0 2.0 0.0 Open

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C. MARGELEF SPECIES RICHNESS INDEX 2.5 2.0 1.5 1.0 0.5 0.0

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D. SHANNON DIVERSITY INDEX 1.6 1.4 1.2 1.0 0.8 0.6 0.4 0.2 0.0 Open

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Figure 18.8: Diversity by estuary derived from catch (abundance) data from 150 mm net samples taken by research teams in the fishery-independent research element

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nets were only fished from sunset to approximately 9 pm. This strategy would reduce the risk to sharks and protected species such as marine turtles, sea snakes, crocodiles and possibly dugong posed by unattended overnight gill netting operations, as currently practised in the fishery, and further supports Recommendation 3 above.

CONCLUSION The results described in this chapter provided a peer-reviewed, science-based framework for the management of the northern barramundi fishery and may provide a basis for long-term monitoring. It also addressed the more complex ecosystem impacts involved in the fishery, such as biodiversity and community composition issues. The evidence supports the benefits offered by a network of protected marine areas as a fisheries management tool. However, the research has not yet been adopted in the fishery assessment process. The primary reasons are likely to be complexity and hence inherent uncertainty of the ecosystem-related issues, and the controversial nature of fisheries closures. A message for the scientific community from this case study is that if research is to contribute to ecologically sustainable use of a natural resource, researchers need to become more familiar with the process of resource assessment and management planning, and with the information needs of the assessors. They also need to communicate their research results in terms of assessment and planning frameworks and identify specific recommendations supported by peer-reviewed science. Revisiting this research in terms of the assessment and approval process used by resource managers produced a number of specific management recommendations.

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Recommendation 1: Mesh size in commercial nets should be increased so that a sufficient number of barramundi can survive to larger size, transform into females and ensure population viability. Recommendation 2 : The current network of closed estuaries should be strengthened so that each fished estuary has a neighbouring estuary that is closed to commercial fishing and can act as a source of larvae, juveniles and adults to restock open estuaries. Recommendation 3 : Fishing operations should be limited to a few hours either side of sunset when catch rates of desirable species are high and harm to juvenile sharks is minimised. Recommendation 4 : Fishing effort should be reduced to levels appropriate for the capture of bull sharks rather than barramundi as they have become an important commercial species and are more sensitive to overfishing.

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19 Tailoring forest management to the habitat needs of the giant velvet worm Simon Grove, Marie Yee and Laura Borrer Closs

The threatened giant velvet worm (Tasmanipatus barretti) is a local endemic found only in the wet and dry forests just inland from Scamander on Tasmania’s north-east coast (Mesibov & Ruhberg 1991). While its range remains largely unfragmented and contains several formal and informal protected areas, production forestry is the dominant matrix land use. As the giant velvet worm is listed as rare under the Threatened Species Protection Act 1995, there is a requirement to develop management actions for its protection. So far this includes specific management prescriptions (Forest Practices Board 2001a) endorsed by the relevant statutory authorities and experts and the designation of wildlife priority areas (Forest Practices Board 2001b). The giant velvet worm inhabits moist rotten logs, particularly the red-brown clayey rotten wood often termed ‘mudguts’ (Grove 2007) in a log’s core (Horner 1995, 1998). Rotten logs are often abundant after timber harvesting because the pre-harvest complement of logs is augmented by logging residue, which is already rotten or may become so with time. This rotten log habitat is perceived to be vulnerable to forestry practices, including post-harvest regeneration burns (Grove & Meggs 2003) but there are currently no specific prescriptions under the forest practices system to cater for the conservation and management of rotten logs, or coarse woody debris (CWD). Any management actions adopted for this umbrella species that seek to maintain suitable CWD habitat will ultimately benefit the vast array of other CWD-dependent species (Yee et al. 2006) within the species’ range. One aim of post-harvest regeneration burns is to reduce the amount of harvesting residue on the coupe, since it can prevent the establishment of new eucalypt seedlings and pose a longer-term fire risk. In drier forests, where partial harvesting is generally practised, low-intensity post-harvest regeneration burns (Lo-PHRB) are sufficient to achieve this objective because

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of the lower initial levels of residue and because eucalypt seedlings can establish with relatively little competition from other regenerating vegetation. A Lo-PHRB is typically a gradually spreading fire for which a large cleared area is not required, and may even be confined to discrete heaps of residue scattered through a partially harvested coupe. In wetter forests, where the typical regeneration strategy is ‘clearfell, burn and sow’ (CBS), high-intensity post-harvest regeneration burns (Hi-PHRB) are considered desirable. Such burns are better at reducing the higher levels of harvesting residue. They help guarantee a receptive seedbed for the establishment of aerially sown eucalypt seed after the burn and before competition builds up from other regenerating vegetation. Hi-PHRBs require a uniformly cleared area (typically almost the entire coupe) and rely on convection currents generated by heat to channel the fire towards the centre of the coupe. These silvicultural and burning differences have evolved in response to an increased understanding of the differences in regeneration dynamics between wet and dry eucalypt forests, as well as different safety and operational constraints (Hickey & Brown 2003). Coupe sizes do not differ substantially between wet and dry forest, and are typically 30–80 ha. As intended, post-harvest regeneration burns consume nearly all fine woody material, while many of the larger logs are scorched but remain more or less intact. In fact, there is an inverse linear relationship between the diameter of a log and the proportion that is burnt in a Hi-PHRB (i.e. the larger the log the less is burnt) (Slijepcevic 2001). Current management prescriptions for the giant velvet worm are delivered via the Threatened Fauna Adviser (Forest Practices Board 2001a), which warns against high-intensity burns and suggests using a Lo-PHRB, increasing the number and size of wildlife habitat clumps retained within a coupe and protecting those clumps from disturbance wherever possible. These prescriptions, melded with other expert advice (e.g. aiming to ensure safe and successful forest regeneration), are implemented through a coupe’s forest practices plan. The prescriptions regarding burning intensity are largely based on past studies which have found the giant velvet worm in areas regenerated post-harvest without fire (Horner 1995; Mesibov 1995) or in coupes subjected to Lo-PHRB (Horner 1998). They are also based on concerns that highintensity burns may reduce the size, number and quality of decaying logs and expose the understorey and microhabitat to drying conditions. A recent population viability analysis (Fox et al. 2004) that modelled, over 100 years, continued CBS with Lo-PHRB found only a small decline in the species’ total population. Its apparent robustness is likely to be due to the assumed rapid repopulation of CBS coupes post-harvest through a combination of immigration from neighbouring forest and reproduction of individuals in logs that survived the burn. Implementing the giant velvet worm management prescriptions, however, is an ongoing challenge in wet forest areas and on steeper terrain in wet or dry forest where ground-based logging operations are usually infeasible and cable logging is preferred. It is even more difficult to identify and respond to the precise conditions that are critical for conducting the postharvest regeneration burn for coupes on steeper terrain. The fact that cable coupes run upslope means it is difficult to prevent a regeneration burn from becoming a Hi-PHRB (at least on its upper reaches) even when it is intended to be a Lo-PHRB. Understandably, caution tends to prevail and burns are sometimes conducted in suboptimal conditions, which have resulted in regeneration failure because the burn did not create a suitable seedbed for eucalypts. Such a failure can not only be construed as poor forestry, but potentially leads to poor outcomes for the giant velvet worm. If regeneration of trees is retarded, it leaves the remaining logs exposed to the elements for perhaps several years, during which

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time they are likely to desiccate and fragment and thus become less suitable for the giant velvet worm. If the subsequent regeneration comprises non-eucalypt forest (e.g. wattles) or a dense broadleaved scrub (which is likely, given the lack of a eucalypt seed source apart from that sown aerially) there is little chance of a sufficient supply of large rotten logs from such small trees in the future. The other option in such circumstances is to not harvest the forest if it cannot be reliably regenerated using Lo-PHRB. If it were known that CBS and high-intensity burns eliminated the giant velvet worm, this might be the safest approach to conserve the species, despite its impact on production forestry. However, both wet and dry eucalypt forests are naturally fire-prone and we would expect species living in them to have some resilience to fire effects. It seems reasonable to consider whether the intensity of the post-harvest regeneration burn is in fact an adequate descriptor of the species’ survival prospects on a coupe. If not, might there be a better-informed, more strategic management solution for the giant velvet worm and for other log-dependent species in production forestry areas? This case study, developed in response to that question, is an example of applied ecological research in support of adaptive forest management.

METHODS Two field studies were conducted, both within the giant velvet worm’s range (Figure 19.1), focusing on giant velvet worm habitat (rotting logs) rather than on the worms themselves. On occasion, giant velvet worms were found; the specimens were recorded but left in the log, which was reassembled as best as could be managed. STUDY 1 Eight sites were chosen for Study 1, all on steep terrain within the dry eucalypt forest part of the species’ range. Two sites were chosen in each of the following four treatments:

s s s s

less than five-year-old regeneration following harvesting and Hi-PHRB; less than five-year-old regeneration following harvesting and Lo-PHRB; 15–18-year old regeneration following harvesting and Hi-PHRB (REGEN); unharvested mature forest (CONTROL) where there was no evidence of recent bushfire (but where many of the logs were charred from bushfire decades earlier).

Sites in the first three treatments comprised individual harvesting coupes; all sites were part of a larger area of continuous native forest. Within each study site, four transects were established running downslope, two on north-facing and two on south-facing slopes. For each aspect one transect followed the midslope and the other followed a gully (Figure 19.2). Within each transect, logs were selected for sampling according to criteria related to the perceived habitat suitability for giant velvet worm:

s s s s

eucalypt only; diameter of at least 20 cm; minimum length of 3 m; in mid to late decay (decay classes 3–4 out of a possible 5).

Four to six suitable logs per transect were selected for sampling. It takes decades for freshly killed logs to reach decay classes 3–4, hence, all sampled rotten logs in recently harvested

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Figure 19.1: Distribution of broad forest types in north-eastern Tasmania within the range of the giant velvet worm

coupes would have been on the forest floor before any harvesting and post-harvest regeneration burn. The maximum log diameter sampled was 75 cm. On the basis of previous studies, it was assumed that the moisture content of mudguts is a surrogate for habitat suitability for this species. Sampling this habitat from each log involved using a chainsaw to cut three 10–20 cm-wide cross-sections (biscuits), one from near the middle and the other two about 75 cm from each end of the log. From each biscuit, three scoops of mudguts (or the wettest-looking rotten wood if no there was no mudguts) were collected into a plastic bag. The percentage moisture content of the rotten wood was determined by comparing wet and dry weights (dried at 105°C for 48 h). The inner-log moisture content was determined (average of the three biscuits per log) for each of the 142 logs; for statistical reasons not all of these values were incorporated into every subsequent analysis. The data were used to produce generalised linear models relating moisture content to other variables recorded at the biscuit level and log level, using the statistical program R(R Team 2004). STUDY 2 A single site was located on steep terrain within dry eucalypt forest at a coupe (UR050B) that had been cable-harvested in 2003. Giant velvet worms had been found at this site prior to

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Figure 19.2: Conceptual layout of survey routes used in Study 1 for giant velvet worm habitat within a single study site

harvesting (Mesibov, pers. comm.). Due to the logistical challenge of achieving a Lo-PHRB for this coupe it was not burnt until 16 months after harvest (in autumn 2005), by which time much of the CWD had dried out and there was extensive green shrubby regrowth. Four transects were established, each between 250 m and 350 m long. Each ran in a regular zigzag pattern downslope. Two followed shallow gullies, and two followed the midslope. The same transect was followed on two occasions, one shortly prior to the Lo-PHRB and one shortly afterwards. On each occasion, all CWD (>10 cm diameter) intersecting the line was measured for diameter (at point of line intersect) and categorised into one of five decay-classes. CWD volume per transect was calculated: V=

p2 8 L/ d 2

where V = volume per hectare (m3 ha-1), L = length of transect (m), d = log diameter (cm) at the point that intersects the line (van Wagner 1968). The percentage of CWD left after the Lo-PHRB was compared among transects, though no statistical analyses were conducted.

RESULTS Only the key results of this research are reported here. A different perspective is given in Yee et al. (2007) and Borrer Closs (2005) presents a more complete record. Rotten wood samples from logs in the mature forest sites (CONTROL) tended to have the highest moisture content, closely followed by those in the 15–18-year-old regeneration sites (REGEN). Those sampled from the more recently harvested and burnt sites had much lower

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80 CONTROL 77 74

REGEN

71 Rot % moisture

Lo-PHRB 68 65

Hi-PHRB

62 59 56 53 50

North-facing slope

South-facing slope

Figure 19.3: % moisture (± standard error) of the rotten wood present in the core of sampled logs from study sites in north-eastern Tasmania within the range of the giant velvet worm, averaged by aspect within treatment

moisture contents, while those from Hi-PHRB had lower moisture contents than those from Lo-PHRB. These treatment-level differences were statistically significant (F3,126 = 9.210; p = 0.002). Analysis showed that the differences were accounted for by the differences between Hi-PHRB and Lo-PHRB (F1,63 = 4.595; p = 0.036). Comparing REGEN sites with Hi-PHRB also indicated a significant effect of time since post-harvest regeneration burn (F1,64 = 17.260; p < 0.001). Rotten wood samples collected from logs on south-facing slopes generally had higher moisture contents than those on north-facing slopes (F1,118 = 11.646; p < 0.001) and samples collected from logs in gullies generally had higher moisture contents than those on midslopes (F1,118 = 9.249; p = 0.003). These differences interacted with the treatment differences (Figures 19.3 and 19.4) and the overall interaction was statistically significant (F1,118 = 5.103; p = 0.002). 80 CONTROL 77 REGEN

74

Rot % moisture

71 Lo-PHRB 68 Hi-PHRB

65 62 59 56 53 50

Mid-slope

Gully

Figure 19.4: % moisture (± standard error) of the rotten wood present in the core of sampled logs from study sites in north-eastern Tasmania within the range of the giant velvet worm, averaged by slope position within treatment

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Figure 19.5: Charred mudguts present in CWD shortly after the Lo-PHRB at forestry coupe UR050B, north-eastern Tasmania. A juvenile giant velvet worm was found at this spot during the post-burn survey

Figure 19.6: Part of forestry coupe UR050B, north-eastern Tasmania, shortly after the Lo-PHRB. The foreground shows a gully area where fire intensity was relatively low compared to the background midslope area

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Table 19.1: CWD volumes in forestry coupe UR050B, north-eastern Tasmania, derived from four transects, each measured pre- and post Lo-PHRB Treatment

Transect length (m)

CWD volume preburn (m3 ha –1)

CWD volumes post- % pre-burn CWD left burn (m3 ha -1) after the burn

Midslope 1

250

631

146

Midslope 2

350

654

136

23 21

Gully 1

350

486

163

34

Gully 2

350

422

189

45

This was attributable to the way in which moisture content varied with aspect and (particularly) slope position. The greatest variation in moisture content with aspect and slope position was in logs in Hi-PHRB, while logs in Lo-PHRB and REGEN had less variation. Logs in CONTROL sites had virtually none (slope position) or little (aspect) variation. Few giant velvet worms were found while sampling CWD but by the end of the two studies, individuals had been found across the full range of treatment, aspect and slope position (although not at every site from Study 1; see Yee et al. 2007). Six out of seven occurrences in Study 1 were in logs on north-facing slopes, four of which were on midslopes. The moisture contents of rot material in which they were found ranged from 66% to 81%, with corresponding sampled log diameters ranging from 37 cm to 65 cm. On sites subjected to Lo-PHRB and Hi-PHRB, giant velvet worm specimens were found within charred logs as well as in logs that had escaped charring. The single record from the midslope position of a north-facing slope under Hi-PHRB conditions was from a log with a high moisture content (67%) for that situation (average 61%). At forestry coupe UR050B (Study 2), intact moist mudguts were found in several charred logs shortly after the Lo-PHRB (Figure 19.5) and a few juvenile giant velvet worms were found in and under charred pieces of wood. CWD volumes ranged between 420 m3 ha-1 and 650 m3 ha-1 at coupe UR050B after cable-logging but before the regeneration burn, with higher volumes on the midslope (Table 19.1). After the Lo-PHRB, a higher percentage of CWD volume remained within the gullies than on the midslope, suggesting the burn was less intense in the gullies (Figure 19.6). One year after the Lo-PHRB, eucalypt regeneration at coupe UR050B did not meet Forestry Tasmania’s internal quality standards for restocking. However, additional stocking at the coupe edges may be possible in later years from natural seedfall from the adjacent standing forest.

DISCUSSION One of the main premises behind the current Lo-PHRB management recommendations is that Hi-PHRBs do not cater for the survival of giant velvet worm habitat in forestry coupes. Yet logs suitable for sampling were readily found in all treatments. The results from both studies confirm that not only do rotten logs survive on coupes exposed to Hi-PHRBs but so do giant velvet worms – in logs showing varying degrees of charring. However, the presence of giant velvet worms in logs shortly after the burn (either Hi-PHRB or Lo-PHRB) is in itself no guarantee of future breeding success. Despite this cause for optimism, Study 1 confirms that, on average, the moisture content of mudguts in logs recently exposed to Hi-PHRBs is lower than that of logs exposed only to

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Lo-PHRBs and in unharvested forest. However, the recovery of moisture contents to higher levels thought to be preferred by giant velvet worms is possible, even following Hi-PHRB. Samples taken from 15–18-year-old regeneration had moisture levels approaching or equalling those of unharvested forest, despite having once been exposed to Hi-PHRB. Recovery is likely to occur as the forest regenerates and increasing levels of shade and shelter are available for logs that survived the post-harvest regeneration burn. On current understanding, if giant velvet worms are surviving in the vicinity (whether within the coupe or in nearby forest) they should be able to repopulate the coupe once rotten wood moisture levels have sufficiently increased. The data also indicate that there is almost as much variation in moisture content of mudguts between the two aspects or between the two slope positions within a single treatment as there is among treatments. For example, the moisture content of mudguts is on average higher on south-facing slopes exposed to Hi-PHRB than on north-facing slopes exposed to Lo-PHRB. On the basis of relative moisture levels, giant velvet worms may have a good chance of surviving in gullies on south-facing slopes regardless of the intensity of the post-harvest regeneration burn. The results of Study 2 also suggest that, within a coupe, the post-harvest regeneration burn is less intense in the gullies than the midslope, as indicated by the lower level of loss of pre-burn CWD volumes in the gullies. Nevertheless, the data also suggest that giant velvet worms and their habitat can at least survive in other areas that appear less suitable – in fact, the majority of sightings of giant velvet worms were from such areas. The short-term issues for the giant velvet worm in harvested areas may be equally about facilitating rapid regeneration as about regulating the intensity of the post-harvest regeneration burn. If a Lo-PHRB inadvertently results in poor or slow regeneration it may hinder the survival or recolonisation of giant velvet worms through extended duration of exposure and desiccation. It is therefore suggested that a case exists for changing management recommendations to allow for Hi-PHRB in situations where low-intensity burns are impractical or silviculturally suboptimal. This study leaves one major question unanswered – how the giant velvet worm will cope with the continuing conversion of substantial areas of primarily unmanaged to primarily managed native forest. Managed native forests tend to grow smaller trees than unmanaged ones. This means smaller logs that are less buffered from desiccation during drought, are more likely to be consumed by bushfire or in post-harvest regeneration burns, decay more rapidly and may have less internal decay, resulting in proportionally less mudguts (Yee et al. 2006). Thus, smaller logs are likely to constitute a less robust or secure habitat for giant velvet worms, so coupes lacking larger logs may offer reduced prospects for the species’ survival through successive forestry cycles, bushfires or droughts. Finding ways to ensure ongoing recruitment of larger logs remains a major challenge in production forestry areas, but would have benefits not just for giant velvet worms but for a vast array of other species (e.g. Yee et al. 2006). The Threatened Fauna Adviser recommendation – that additional patches of forest be retained at the coupe level and protected from disturbance – is thus a good principle, but not always easy to implement operationally. The wider adoption of variable retention silviculture, currently being considered for old-growth wet eucalypt forests (Hickey 2005), may formalise the acceptance of practices that explicitly aim to recruit larger logs, although it would still be difficult to implement on steep terrain. At a more strategic level, protecting the giant velvet worm may be more about maintaining an older forest structure within the species’ range than would be the case in a ‘business as

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usual’ forestry scenario. This could, for instance, be achieved by using a mixture of longer rotations and more variable retention silviculture where feasible. Another strategic approach would be to ensure that new harvesting operations are adequately dispersed in space and time to enhance prospects of recolonisation by giant velvet worms from surrounding forest, should this prove necessary. Each strategy raises further research questions, centred on developing a better understanding of the dynamics of mudguts. For instance, the purpose of lengthening rotations would be to ensure that they are long enough to enable the generation of mudguts (or its presumed precursors – various heartwood brown rots or heartwood that has been processed by termites or saproxylic beetles) in harvest residue. It would need to be generated in sufficient quantities to enable the giant velvet worm to persist within the coupe post-harvest and postburn. This caveat would apply not only to the first cut (when the harvest residue would contain material derived from the previously unmanaged forest) but also to successive rotations (when the harvest residue would contain material derived from regrowth trees). These are the pertinent questions:

s

s

s

How long does it take for mudguts precursors to develop in trees prior to death? The limited information that exists for wet forest (Hopkins 2006) suggests it is not extensive in trees less than 150 years old. For dry forest, a study of termite Pyrotermes adamsoni pipe damage (Elliott & Bashford 1984) found it to be proportional to tree (stump) diameter (and hence age). Critically, can these precursors develop during the length of a silvicultural rotation? If so, does development occur at a level to supply the giant velvet worm with sufficient habitat to persist on a coupe? Is it only after the next harvest, or are sufficient levels contributed by, say, branch-fall or selfthinning as the stand matures? Can mudguts develop in harvest residue derived from typical regrowth-type trees, even if those trees have no obvious mudguts precursors when alive? If so, how long does it take, and does it depend on log size, forest type and/or other environmental factors such as aspect, slope and microclimate? Regardless of origin, how long does mudguts last in CWD, and does this differ depending on the origin of the CWD, log size, forest type and/or other environmental factors?

The purpose of variable retention silviculture (in the context of giant velvet worm conservation) would be to retain standing forest within-coupe at the time of harvest at levels that allow the generation of sufficient mudguts precursors, such that the logs arising from them enable the species to persist within the coupe. Dispersed retention is unlikely to be adopted in taller forest for safety and other reasons, but aggregated retention may be more feasible, at least on flatter ground where there is some flexibility over where to retain patches or aggregates. This is the subject of current research and adaptive management with Forestry Tasmania. On steeper terrain subject to cable-harvesting there is less flexibility, but it might be possible to retain wedges of standing forest between the reaches of adjacent cabling systems. The practicality of these approaches requires further research. The final element of a strategic approach would be to disperse coupes in space and time sufficiently that the giant velvet worm persists at adequate levels in the landscape, based on research findings on rotation lengths and variable retention. This would require some landscape-level modelling, most likely based on existing wood-flow planning systems used by

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Forestry Tasmania, and perhaps a reworking of the earlier population analyses conducted for the species (Fox et al. 2004).

CONCLUSION The current management recommendations for the giant velvet worm may work in its favour most of the time, but a one-size-fits-all approach now appears suboptimal. A more comprehensive set of recommendations would need to take into account the coupe’s forest type, aspect and degree of gullying before recommending the type of post-harvest regeneration burn. The present recommendations should be accompanied by a more strategic approach to the conservation of the giant velvet worm. This may require further research on the occurrence and decay dynamics of its chief habitat (the mudguts of rotten wood), its condition and type and its precursors. In particular, research should be directed towards formulating recommendations or prescriptions on the level of within-coupe retention of standing forest at the time of harvest, planned rotation length, and positioning of coupes and scheduling of harvesting in the wider landscape within the species’ range. The outcomes of this strategy may assist in the conservation of not only giant velvet worms but other log-dwelling invertebrates in production forestry areas.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS This project was financed and supported in kind by Forestry Tasmania. Figure 19.1 was based on a vegetation model developed for the giant velvet worm by Peter von Minden and Jeff Meggs.

REFERENCES Borrer Closs L (2005). The effects of silviculture regeneration burns on the habitat of the giant velvet worm (Tasmanipatus barretti). MSc thesis, Imperial College, London. Elliott HJ & Bashford R (1984). Incidence and effects of the dampwood termite, Porotermes adamsoni, in two Tasmanian east coast eucalypt forests. Australian Forestry 47, 11–15. Forest Practices Board (2001a). Threatened fauna adviser: expert system to advise on threatened fauna management in production forests (rev. edn). Forest Practices Board (now Forest Practices Authority): Hobart. Forest Practices Board (2001b). Threatened fauna manual for production forests in Tasmania (rev. edn). Forest Practices Board (now Forest Practices Authority): Hobart. Fox JC, Mesibov R, McCarthy MA & Burgman MA (2004). Giant velvet worm (Tasmanipatus barretti) in Tasmania, Australia: effects of planned conversion of native forests to plantations. In Species conservation and management: case studies (eds HR Akcakaya, MA Burgman, O Kindvall, CC Wood, P Sjogren-Gulve, JS Hatfield & MA McCarthy), pp. 150–161. Oxford University Press: New York. Grove SJ & Meggs J (2003). Coarse woody debris biodiversity and management: a review with particular reference to Tasmanian wet eucalypt forests. Australian Forestry 66, 258–272. Grove SJ (2007). Mudguts. The Tasmanian Naturalist 129, 2–7.

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Hickey JE (2005). Alternatives to clearfell silviculture in tall old-growth forests in Tasmania. International Forestry Review 7, 40. Hickey J & Brown MJ (2003). Towards ecological forestry in Tasmania. In Towards forest sustainability (eds JF Franklin & DB Lindenmayer), pp. 31–46. CSIRO Publishing: Melbourne. Hopkins A (2006). The taxonomy and ecology of wood decay fungi in Eucalyptus obliqua trees and logs in the wet sclerophyll forests of southern Tasmania. PhD thesis, School of Agriculture, University of Tasmania, Hobart. Horner DJ (1995). The ecology of two parapatric species of Tasmanipatus (Onychophora) – T. barretti and T. anophthalmus. BSc Hons thesis, University of Tasmania, Hobart. Horner DJ (1998). Comparative study of the effects of logging operations on the giant velvet worm population of GC171A. Forestry Tasmania: Hobart. Mesibov R (1995). Assessment of Tasmanipatus barretti populations in logged areas. Unpublished report for Forestry Tasmania. Mesibov R & Ruhberg H (1991). Ecology and conservation of Tasmanipatus barretti and T. anophthalmus, parapatric onychophorans (Onychophora: Peripatopsidae) from northeastern Tasmania. Papers and Proceedings of the Royal Society of Tasmania 125, 441–447. R Development Core Team (2004). R: a language and environment for statistical computing. Slijepcevic A (2001). Loss of carbon during controlled regeneration burns in Eucalyptus obliqua forest. Tasforests 13, 281–290. Van Wagner CE (1968). The line-intersect method in forest fuel sampling. Forest Science 14, 20–26. Yee M, Grove SJ, Richardson A & Mohammed C (2006). Brown rot in inner heartwood: why large logs support characteristic saproxylic beetle assemblages of conservation concern. In Insect biodiversity and dead wood. Proceedings of a symposium at the International Congress of Entomology (eds SJ Grove & JL Hanula), pp. 42–56, August 2004, Brisbane. USDA Forest Service GTR SRS-93: Asheville, NC. Yee M, Grove SJ & Borrer Closs L (2007). Giant velvet worms (Tasmanipatus barretti) and postharvest regeneration burns in Tasmania. Ecological Management and Restoration 8(1), 66–71.

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20 New approaches to tackling fisheries bycatch in tropical prawn trawling David Maynard

F

isheries are important to many societies, providing food, jobs, income and lifestyle. There are inherent issues that need to be addressed, namely sustainability, reduction of bycatch and the reduction of negative impacts on the environment. Australian fisheries management is undertaken within an ecological sustainable development framework, and industry and government work continuously to address the issues. This chapter looks at Australian fisheries and selectivity in prawn trawling. It finishes with a case study of novel research in the area of small fish bycatch reduction in tropical prawn trawling.

FISHERIES PRODUCTION The UN Food & Agriculture Organisation estimated that global fisheries production is around 146 million tonnes annually (Kelleher 2005). Associated with the harvest is 7.3 million tonnes of discards, of which tropical shrimp or prawn trawling account for a quarter (Kelleher 2005). Australia is ranked 52nd in the world (by volume) of fishing nations (FAO 2007), producing 241 000 tonnes of fish annually (ABARE 2007). Three reasons for Australia’s low rate of production are the narrow continental shelf, a lack of large rivers pumping nutrients into the nearshore environment, and a lack of large cold water upwellings that provide nutrients for primary production. Australia’s low fishery production is offset by the high catch value. The value of total fisheries production for 2005–06 was estimated by ABARE (2007) at $AU2.13 billion. Aquaculture comprises about one-third of that total and is predicted to grow over the next 10–20 years (FAO 2007; ABARE 2007).

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Figure 20.1: A typical prawn trawl net used in the Australian fishing industry. Its shape is generated through net design and hydrodynamic forces acting on the trawl boards on each wing (far left) to create a spreading force. The catch accumulates in the codend (far right). Bycatch reduction devices are included in the design (the triangular section right of centre is a turtle excluder device) Source: Eayrs (2003)

Australian fisheries are based on six broad gear types – fish and prawn trawling, hook and line, gill netting, potting and trapping, and dredging. Methods such as dredging and trawling are generally recognised as destructive fishing methods because of their negative impacts on the seabed and the unselective nature of the gear.

LEGAL FRAMEWORK FOR AUSTRALIAN FISHERIES Fisheries in Australian waters operate under the Environmental Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999, one of the objectives of which is to ‘promote ecological sustainable development through the conservation and use of natural resources’. The components and detail of ecological sustainable development are available elsewhere and will not be discussed here in detail. We need to mention, however, ecologically sustainable development in the context of fisheries and regional communities, specifically, balancing its various components. Governments are tasked with managing fisheries for bettering the whole community, rather than any single interest group or with bias to one component of ecologically sustainable development. Closing a fishery, for reasons such as unsustainable fishing practices or high rates of bycatch, may be necessary to sustain an ecosystem or fish stocks but may not benefit the community in the short term. Managers and politicians need to balance the rate of change to avoid severely affecting the other components. It involves balancing conservation and production – the theme of this book. How is Australia achieving this? Using Commonwealth fisheries as an example, the Australian Fisheries Management Authority manages Commonwealth fisheries under a range of Acts (AFMA 2007). The authority’s responsibility is to oversee the development of a sustainable management plan for each fishery, including bycatch action plans. The agency is concerned with managing healthy stocks from an economic point of view,

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New approaches to tackling fisheries bycatch in tropical prawn trawling

examining the environmental impacts and bycatch mitigation, and working with stakeholder groups to make changes over time. For example, the Australian Fisheries Management Authority is introducing significant changes for Commonwealth fisheries such as the northern prawn fishery, which includes a 50% bycatch reduction by 2008 (AFMA 2006). Scientists at the Australian Maritime College are working closely with the authority and the fishing industry to address bycatch issues.

PRAWN TRAWLING AND ASSOCIATED BYCATCH The bycatch associated with fisheries is a significant management issue. Every fisher wants to catch their target species – that is where the money is. Any other species captured is wasted time and effort. However, some fisheries, such as prawn trawling, have a concerning level of bycatch. The Australian prawn trawl industry harvested 19 646 000 tonnes at a value of $252.1 million in 2005–06 (ABARE 2006). Bycatch is a serious issue for the management of the trawl sector because for every kilogram of prawns consumed by humans, up to 20 kg of bycatch may be taken (Eayrs 2005).

BYCATCH REDUCTION DEVICES Measures to reduce bycatch are being implemented in all Australian prawn trawl fisheries. It is now mandatory for all nets to have a turtle exclusion device and an approved fish bycatch reduction device (AFMA nd). Figure 20.2 shows three types of bycatch reduction device used by fishers. More information on these devices is available in Eayrs (2005). The fisheye is a metal frame used to hold the net panel open in a lens shape, allowing fish to swim forward and out of the net. The radial escape section has a funnel of netting through which the water, fish and prawns are accelerated into the posterior portion of the net. The funnel is surrounded by large meshes allowing fish to leave the net after swimming forward. This area also has reduced water velocity, making it easier for the fish to access the escape gap. Square mesh panels and codends are constructed by rotating diamond trawl netting 45° so that all tension runs down bars, allowing the meshes to form squares that remain open under load. These engineering solutions (Figure 20.2) have been developed to allow fish to exit the net depending on their size, swimming capability or behaviour. The turtle exclusion device is a perfect example of selectivity based on size. Any object (fish, prawns and debris) smaller than the grid size of the device continues through to the codend. Any objects larger than the grid size, such as turtles, sharks and rays, are directed out of the trawl through a gap in the net (see Eayrs 2003 for more detail). These devices have been successful in reducing the impact on turtles to almost zero in the Northern Prawn Fishery (Brewer et al. 2003), making turtle bycatch a non-issue for that trawl fishery. The focus is now shifting to small fish bycatch. Exploiting size as a selectivity tool is difficult when it comes to small finfish, many of which are similar in size to the targeted prawns. However, the square mesh codend seems to have been successful in allowing small fish out in substantial numbers yet retaining the prawns (Courtney & Campbell 2005). The fisheye and radial escape devices exploit swimming ability as well as behaviour. These devices (and others not mentioned here) are designed to remove

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Biodiversity: Integrating Conservation and Production

Figure 20.2: Three types of bycatch reduction devices designed to reduce small fish retention in prawn trawl nets (not to scale). The numbers represent typical proportions of reduction (from the literature) for small finfish

the unwanted fish after they have entered the trawl net. What is not known is the survival of fish that escape through these devices after interacting with the fishing gear. A range of bycatch reduction rates for various devices tested in prawn fisheries around the world appear in Table 20.1. The average reduction rate is about 30%. However, just because these fish weren’t brought to the surface doesn’t mean the problem is solved. Stress from Table 20.1: Exclusion rates for a range of fish bycatch reduction devices from research across fisheries Device

% reduction in fish bycatch

Study

Location

Fisheye

ns

Brewer et al. (1998)

Northern Prawn Fishery, Australia

Fisheye

ns–12

Branstetter (1997)

South Atlantic

Fisheye

31–44

Watson et al. (1999)

Gulf of Mexico/South Atlantic

Fisheye

ns–46

Branstetter (1997)

Gulf of Mexico

Modified fisheye

20.32

Gregor & Wang (2003)

Northern Prawn Fishery, Australia

Radial escape section

18

Branstetter (1997)

South Atlantic

Radial escape section

21–32

Branstetter (1997)

Gulf of Mexico

Radial escape section

28.33

Courtney & Campbell (2002)

Queensland (east coast)

Radial escape section

37

Garcia-Caudillo et al. (2000)

Gulf of California

Radial escape section

37–46

Watson et al. (1993)

Gulf of Mexico

Radial escape section

38

Engaas et al. (1999)

Gulf of Mexico/South Atlantic

Jones–Davis device

58

Engaas et al. (1999)

Gulf of Mexico/South Atlantic

Square mesh codend

33

Brewer et al. (1998)

Northern Prawn Fishery, Australia

Square mesh codend

18.06

Courtney & Campbell (2003a, b)

Queensland (east coast)

Square mesh codend

53

Courtney & Campbell (2005)

Queensland (east coast)

Square mesh panel

70

Broadhurst et al. (1997)

New South Wales (estuary)

Square mesh panel

35–40

Broadhurst & Kennelly (1997)

New South Wales (oceanic)

ns = no significant difference in catch compared to control net

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New approaches to tackling fisheries bycatch in tropical prawn trawling

exhaustive swimming, skin damage and scale loss can leave escapees susceptible to disease and predation. Just because they got out and didn’t come to the surface doesn’t mean they survived. The degree of post-escape mortality is difficult to estimate. Novel research into triggering avoidance reactions to the trawl net in susceptible finfish is being investigated as a means of negating post-escape mortality for susceptible fish. It aims to minimise the number of fish entering the trawl rather than deal with removing fish after they have entered the net.

NOVEL BYCATCH REDUCTION METHOD It is possible to reduce fish bycatch by reducing the number of unwanted fish entering the trawl net. This may be achieved by exploiting aspects of their natural behaviour and introducing stimuli into the trawl system. One example is the reaction of fish to submerged lighting on trawls at night. Fish exhibit a negative phototactic response (swim away from light) as the trawl approaches their position. This method of improving the selectivity of night trawling was tested in a pilot study, with promising results. Approximately 2500 fish, representing 20 families and 26 species of fish, cephalopod and ray, were measured from 16 trawls. The trawls were fitted with lights along the headline (leading edge of the net; Figure 20.3a). Eight trawls had their lights turned on and eight had their lights turned off (control). The lights-off trawls provided information on the background (a)

(b)

Figure 20.3: (a) Schematic of the position of the lights along the headline of a trawl net. The lights are oriented to face directly down at the seabed, illuminating the substrate and suspended particulate matter. (b) The lights used in the experiment consisted of 4 × 50 W halogen lights powered by batteries attached to the codend

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Figure 20.4: The control trawl catch represents families and the relative proportions susceptible to the trawl net. Nine families comprise over 90% of the catch, with just two families comprising more than 50% of the catch, namely whiting (Sillaginidae) and pigfish (Monacanthidae)

fish assemblage susceptible to, and retained in, the trawl net. Just over 90% of the small fish bycatch represent nine families (Figure 20.4). The illumination of the seabed and turbid water directly below the headline resulted in a 30% reduction in the number and weight of fish entering and retained in the trawl net (Figure 20.5).

CONSERVATION AND PRODUCTION OUTCOMES The results of the pilot study are encouraging for overall small fish bycatch reduction and have other benefits for fish, fishers and the environment. Evidence showed that lights reduced the number of fish entering the trawl net at night by 30%, i.e. one in three fish are not exposed to post-escape mortality. Fishers benefit economically through reduced fuel costs by having 30% less bycatch filling their nets and creating unwanted drag. The same reduction in bycatch reduces sorting time, which translates to reduced labour costs and increased product quality. More importantly, for fishers, the pilot study shows a 32% increase in target species (mixed

Figure 20.5: Adding light at the leading edge of the trawl net reduced by about 30% the number of fish entering and retained in the net, compared to control catch rates (Figure 20.4)

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New approaches to tackling fisheries bycatch in tropical prawn trawling

Table 20.2: Changes in target and byproduct family by weight Target and byproduct family

Commercial catch weight (kg), lights off

Commercial catch weight (kg), lights on

% change

Penaeidae

41.3

54.5

32.0

Portunidae

24.3

33.3

37.0

prawns, family Penaeidae) and 37% increase in byproduct (three spot crabs, family Portunidae) by weight (Table 20.2). These commercially valuable groups also exhibit a phototactic response. It is unclear whether it is a positive (attraction) or negative (avoidance/flee) response, but it led to more prawns and crabs entering the net, translating into an increased catch per unit effort for fishers. This may concern fisheries managers in the short term because fishers could have a 30% increase in effective effort as a result of technological creep. If it is managed appropriately, fishers could capture the same amount of target species with lights at night, with a 30% reduction in trawl effort. That reduction in effort also means there is 30% reduction in trawl nets being dragged along the seabed at night, which further reduces the overall amount of small fish bycatch and seabed interaction.

CONCLUSION Australian fisheries are an important regional primary industry. There are issues associated with their activities, but ecologically sustainable development provides for continuation with improvements. Fishers are proactive in developing new gear types, but science and technology can also help. Developing underwater technology that exploits our increased knowledge of fish behaviour may provide solutions for improved conservation and production in tropical prawn trawl fisheries globally.

REFERENCES ABARE (2007). Australian Fisheries Statistics 2006. Canberra. AFMA (no date). Northern prawn fishery. Available online at http://www.afma.gov.au/information/publications/education/pdfs/fs11_npf.pdf. Accessed 4 January 2008. AFMA (2006). Guide to addressing bycatch in Commonwealth fisheries. Australian Fisheries Management Authority: Canberra. AFMA (2007). Environment and sustainability. Available online at http://www.afma.gov.au/ environment/default.htm. Accessed 4 January 2008. Branstetter S (1997). Bycatch and its reduction in the Gulf of Mexico and South Atlantic shrimp fisheries. Gulf & South Atlantic Fisheries Development Foundation: Florida. Brewer D, Rawlinson N, Eayrs S & Burridge C (1998). An assessment of bycatch reduction devices in a tropical Australian prawn trawl fishery. Fisheries Research 720, 1–21. Brewer D, Heales D, Milton D, Taylor B, Fry G, Dell Q, Austin M, Pendry B, Jones P, Venables B, Eayrs S, Day G, Wakeford J, Sen S, Stobutzki I, Wang Y, Carter D, Nelson C, Nichols J, Gofton T

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& Hegerl E (2003). Assessment and improvement of BRDs and TEDs in the NPF: a co-operative approach by fishers, scientists, fisheries technologists, economists and conservationists. CSIRO: Cleveland, Qld. Broadhurst MK & Kennelly SJ (1997). The composite square mesh panel: a modification for reducing unwanted by-catch and increasing catches of prawns throughout the New South Wales oceanic prawn-trawl fishery. Fishery Bulletin 95, 653–664. Broadhurst MK, Kennelly SJ & O’Doherty G (1997). Specifications for the construction and installation of two by-catch reducing devices (BRDs) used in NSW prawn-trawl fisheries. Marine and Freshwater Research 48, 485–489. Courtney AJ & Campbell M (2002). Research results on the effects of bycatch reduction devices in the eastern king prawn fishery. Qld Fisheries EXPAND 20(6), 20–23. Courtney AJ & Campbell M (2003a). Square mesh BRDs show good results. Queensland Fisherman 21(1), 32–35. Courtney AJ & Campbell M (2003b). Reducing bycatch in the Queensland scallop fishery. Professional Fisherman 25(8), 18–19. Courtney AJ & Campbell M (2005). Fisheries Research & Development Corporation (FRDC) funds square mesh codend extension project for Queensland trawl fishery. SeaNet News July. Eayrs S (2003). Identification and assessment of factors that influence the catching efficiency of a prawn trawl in the Northern Prawn Fishery. In A new approach to fishing power analysis and its application in the Northern Prawn Fishery (eds J Dichmont, J Bishop, B Venables, J Penrose, D Sterling, N Rawlinson & S Eayrs). Fishereis Research & Development Project R99/1494. Eayrs S (2005). A guide to bycatch reduction in tropical shrimp-trawl fisheries. Food & Agriculture Organisation: Rome. Engaas A, Foster D, Hataway BD, Watson JW & Workman I (1999). The behavioral response of juvenile red snapper (Lutjanus campechanus) to shrimp trawls that utilise water flow modifications to induce escapement. Marine Technology Society Journal 33, 43–50. FAO (2007). The state of world fisheries and aquaculture 2006. Food & Agriculture Organisation: Rome. Garcia-Caudillo JM, Cisneros-Mata MA & Balmori-Ramirez A (2000). Performance of a bycatch reduction device in the shrimp fishery of the Gulf of California, Mexico. Biological Conservation 92(2), 199–205. Gregor R & Wang Y (2003). An observer report: at sea testing and assessment of a modified fisheye bycatch reduction device aboard the Rosen C for approval in Australia’s Northern Prawn Fishery. Australian Fisheries Management Authority. Available online at http://www.afma.gov.au/ fisheries/northern_trawl/northern_prawn/publications/docs/other/fisheye.pdf. Accessed 8 January 2008. Kelleher K (2005). Discards in the world’s marine fisheries: an update. FAO Fisheries Technical Paper 470. Food & Agriculture Organisation: Rome. Watson J, Workman I, Foster D, Taylor C, Shah A, Barbour J & Hataway D (1993). Status report on the development of gear modifications to reduce finfish bycatch in shrimp trawls in the southeastern United States 1990–1992. NOAA Technical Memorandum, NMFS-SEFSC-327. Watson J, Foster D, Nichols SA, Shah A, Scott-Denton E & Nance J (1999). The development of bycatch reduction technology in the southeastern United States shrimp fishery. Marine Technology Society Journal 33, 51–56.

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21 Measuring the biodiversity values of a small-scale farm forestry enterprise in northern Tasmania Greg Unwin, John Lord and Arthur Lyons

T

his chapter is about achieving biodiversity protection and production in a private forest managed for wood production. John and Diana Lord and their three children have managed a property in the foothills of northern Tasmania since the 1980s (Figure 21.1). The property is in two adjoining parts. ‘Springmount’, purchased in 1985, consisted mostly of derelict farmland and heavily cut-over native eucalypt forest. ‘The Springs’, purchased in 1990, supported an expanse of young even-aged native forest of Eucalyptus obliqua regrown after the previous owner’s clearfelling for woodchipping.

FOREST MANAGEMENT OBJECTIVES The forest on each property has been continuously and actively managed since purchase. Each property has a property management plan, a financial plan and a forest practices plan. Forest management coupes have been delineated and mapped for native forests and plantations respectively, according to forest type, species, silvicultural history and operational goals (Figure 21.2). The objectives of the farm forestry investment were to:

s

provide a financial resource for the children’s education and the owners’ future retirement;

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Biodiversity: Integrating Conservation and Production

LAUNCESTON SPRING MOUNT / THE SPRINGS

Figure 21.1: Location of Springmount and The Springs. The 760 ha forested property rises from the Midlands Plain to the foothills of the Western Tiers in northern Tasmania. Dry regrowth E. obliqua forest (aged 30 yrs) is shown centre left and young E. nitens plantation (aged 19 yrs) is centre right.

s s s s

provide an opportunity for family recreation and a supply of domestic firewood; contribute to local employment and to the state’s rural economy; enable the landholders to obtain first-hand knowledge of the practice of private forestry in a commercially and ecologically sustainable manner; enable John Lord, an accountant, to advise his clients on the management of their own forests and plantations.

The management strategy divided the forests into land management zones and operational coupes, retained native forests where they were reasonably well-stocked and converted degraded forest and derelict farmland to plantations. Accordingly, management plans for Springmount and The Springs provide for a matrix of eucalypt forest, pine plantations, managed native regrowth forest, forest reserves, retained grasslands and roadways. As well as wanting to manage the forest to meet their needs and those of the forest, the family wanted to demonstrate to the broader community that this style of private forestry is financially self-supporting and environmentally sound. They believe that active forest management is working for them and their community, as well as for the environment, and that they would not have achieved the same results if they had simply shut their forests (which were severely degraded at the time of purchase). They point to recent research which claims that, over 200 years, actively managing forests for wood production results in twice as much carbon storage as unmanaged forests (FWPRDC 2006).

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Measuring the biodiversity values of a small-scale farm forestry enterprise in northern Tasmania

EUCALYPT PLANTATION

N

PINE PLANTATION DRY FOREST WET FOREST PASTURE VEGCODE

COMMUNITY

DDE DOB DOV DSC E85 E89 E92 E93 E97 FAG

EUCALYPTUS DELEGATENSIS DRY FOREST WOODLAND EUCALYPTUS OBLIQUA DRY FOREST AND WOODLAND EUCALYPTUS OVATA DRY FOREST AND WOODLAND EUCALYPTUS AMYGDALINA - EUCALYPTUS OBLIQUA E NITENS 1985 E NITENS 1989 E NITENS 1992 E NITENS 1993 E NITENS 1997 AGRICULTURAL LAND

Figure 21.2: Location and site plan of forests at Springmount (lower left) and The Springs (upper right). Patterns show distribution of eucalypt forests (striped) and plantations (cross-hatched). Locations of small plot samples are shown by asterisks labelled A1–A3 in thinned E. obliqua forest (Zone A, left of figure); B1–B3 and C1–C3 in E. nitens plantations, ex-pasture and ex-bush, respectively (centre left); D1–D3 in regrowth dry E. obliqua forest (Zone D, right); and R2–R4 in remnant old growth E. obliqua forest (Zone E, centre).

FOREST TYPES AND FOREST MANAGEMENT PRACTICE Springmount comprises 200 ha located high in the foothills of the Western Tiers in northern Tasmania (lat. 41o 43’ S, long. 146o 53’ E). The Springs covers 560 ha of valley floor and lower slopes. Prior to European settlement, the vegetation was largely native forest of E. obliqua, E. viminalis and Acacia melanoxylon, with E. delegatensis on the upper slopes and mixtures of E. obliqua, E. ovata and some A. dealbata and Melaleuca ericifolia on the lower slopes and valley

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floor. Elevation ranges from 200 m to 550 m above sea level. The immediate backdrop is the Western Tiers at 1200 m elevation, protecting the properties from prevailing westerly and south-westerly winds. Average annual rainfall is approximately 1000 mm. The plains are characterised by shallow soils over clay. As the elevation increases, mud-stone derived soils and broken rock and shale become common. Hard dolerite protrusions form level surfaces with elevation, creating a series of steps or benches dissected by a small number of streams arising from permanent springs at the edges of benches and platforms higher in the landscape. Prior to its purchase by the Lords, Springmount was part of a bush run which had been heavily logged for sawlogs and pulpwood in the 1970s. Given the poor regeneration, it was classified by the then Private Forestry Division as derelict forest. The grassland area had been neglected and leased to a local farmer for summer grazing. During 1989–2003, E. nitens plantations were established on ex-pasture and on degraded forest (bushland) sites (Figure 21.2; AFG 2005). Dry eucalypt forest with a fire-prone heathy understorey predominates on the north and north-eastern slopes and wet eucalypt forest on the southern slopes and eastern gullies. Dry E. obliqua forest on The Springs had been heavily logged and clearfelled in the 1970s as a chipwood concession and now consists of densely stocked sapling regrowth of E. obliqua aged about 30 years. The midslope area now includes young E. nitens plantations established on ex-pasture (1985) and on cut-over bush sites (1986) (Figures 21.1 and 21.2). Pinus radiata plantations have been established on the lower slopes and flats (1997 and 2001). On the flats, there are some remnant patches of riparian forest containing healthy stands of E. ovata, E. viminalis, M. ericifolia and some E. obliqua. Of the 760 ha of the two properties, 466 ha is dry eucalypt forest as thinned regrowth or remnant old growth, 239 ha is E. nitens plantations for pulpwood thinnings and sawlogs, 45 ha is young P. radiata plantation and the balance (approx. 10 ha) is cleared land for buildings and road easements.

MEASURING FOREST CONDITION AND BIODIVERSITY VALUES The Lords are confident of the environmental outcomes of their forest management, including providing habitat and protecting biodiversity, but acknowledge that they are not trained to measure these and that they are neither objective nor impartial observers. Hence this case study, a collaboration between forest ecologists at the University of Tasmania, forest planners and managers of the state government private forestry extension agency (Private Forests Tasmania) and the landholders. The objective was to assess key aspects of forest condition and biodiversity values by measuring forest structure, floristic diversity and habitat condition in the major forest types and management regimes on the property. Measurements were carried out in three replicate plots in each of five principal forest management zones, distinguished on the basis of forest type and management history: A B

native high forest, dry E. obliqua, silviculturally thinned in 2000 for timber production, advanced-growth release and regeneration (timber stand improvement, TSI); E. nitens plantation, coupe 5, age 18 years, established in 1989 on rundown ex-pasture, silviculturally thinned by third-row removal for pulpwood at age 15 years (2004);

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Measuring the biodiversity values of a small-scale farm forestry enterprise in northern Tasmania

C

E. nitens plantation, coupe 6, age 15 years, established in 1992 on derelict (severely cut-over) forest, silviculturally thinned by third-row removal for pulpwood at age 15 years (2007); D regrowth dry E. obliqua forest, established following clearfell for pulpwood harvest and burning for regeneration in the late 1970s; E remnant (old growth) dry E. obliqua high forest, intact, ungrazed and essentially unlogged (except for isolated stems removed in the early 1900s). The limited area of young P. radiata plantation (45 ha) was excluded from the study, as was the small area of dry E. delegatensis high forest on the upper slopes.

FOREST STRUCTURE, COMPOSITION AND CONDITION Forest structure for the five forest management zones was defined by ground survey using GPS techniques and a priori delineation of TASVEG forest types (Harris & Kitchener 2005) using a digital mapping layer and ArcView 3.2 (Ref. 1:25 000 scale, Liffey topographic mapsheet, enlarged to 1:15 000 scale). Stocking rate, stand structure, crown projection and floristic diversity were surveyed in three 20 × 10 m replicated plots on flat terrain or on the contour on slopes facing N/NE in each of the five forest zones during March and April 2007. Forest structure was defined in terms of canopy trees (diameter at breast height over bark, DBHOB *10 cm); small trees (>3 m height, <10 cm DBHOB) and small woody stems (1–3 m height, loosely called shrubs) in the understorey. Groundcover (<1 m height) was recorded in Braun-Blanquet Cover classes and where possible by species and frequency. Floristic diversity or within-sample diversity of plants (alpha-diversity) is represented here by Simpson’s index (D) on a theoretical scale of 0.0–1.0 from minimum to maximum diversity respectively, and by the Shannon-Weiner index (H') on a corresponding scale of approx. 0.0–7.0. In common with results presented here, most moderately diverse forests have D values in the range 0.6–0.8 and Shannon-Weiner values around 2.0–3.0. These two widely accepted indices of floristic diversity were used because of their slightly different mathematical emphases. Simpson’s index favours more frequent species whereas the Shannon-Weiner index adds more weight to infrequent species, as often encountered in small samples. Both indices are combined measures of species richness and evenness of the distribution of individuals among species. In each forest zone, a single combined area of approximately 0.3 ha surrounding the plots was assessed for forest habitat condition using the TASVEG Version 1.0 native vegetation condition assessment method (Michaels 2006). TASVEG condition assessment is an ecologically based, semi-quantitative method developed by the Vegetation Section, Department of Primary Industries, Water and Environment, Tasmania, for describing vegetation habitat in relation to benchmarks for defined vegetation types. The condition score is an aggregate of seven measures of site condition and three relating to landscape context, with a maximum total value of 100. The components (and their maximum weightings) are presence and condition of large trees (10), tree canopy cover (5), lack of weeds (15), variety of understorey lifeforms (25), evidence and diversity of floristic recruitment (10), presence of organic litter (5), fallen logs (5), patch size (10), neighbourhood vegetation (10) and connectivity (5).

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Table 21.1: Analysis of stand structure in 200 m2 forest sample plots in five forest types at Springmount and The Springs, April 2007 Plantation Thinned high E. nitens forest dry ex-pasture E. obliqua (1989)

Plantation E. nitens ex-bush (1992)

Regrowth forest dry E. obliqua (late 1970s)

Old growth forest dry E. obliqua

Forest zone

A

B

C

D

E

Tree density per plot

3.3 (0.6)

11.7 (1.5)

14.0 (2.6)

20.0 (1.4)

8.5 (0.7)

No. small trees (>3 m) per plot

7.0 (3.0)

2.0 (3.5)

11.3 (18.8)

5.0 (0.0)

6.0 (1.4)

Tree density per ha [+small trees]

167 (29) [350 (150)]

585a (75)

565a (940)

1000 (70) [250 (0.0)]

425 (35) [300 (70)]

Tree canopy height (m)

32.4 (2.3)

25.1 (1.7)

19.9 (1.1)

22.4 (1.8)

31.8 (0.2)

No. tree species (T)

2.3 (1.1)

1.0 (0.0)

1.7 (0.6)

4.0 (0.0)

3.5 (0.7)

No. plant species (S)

22.7 (3.1)

12.0 (1.0)

14.0 (3.6)

9.5 (0.7)

12.5 (0.7)

Tree basal area (m2 ha-1)

36.4 (2.9)

37.1 (3.9)

20.0 (1.8)

48.4 (4.5)

117.7 (34.2)

% basal area (trees >60 cm DBH)

41.7 (1.5)

0.0

0.0

15.4 (21.7)

76.0 (12.1)

Foliage projective cover (%)

44.2 (10.9)

60.4 (2.5)

36.3 (14.2)

50.7 (8.5)

87.5 (6.5)

Data show mean values (with standard deviations) for n = 3 replicate plots in each forest zone a: Plantation tree density follows mechanical thinning

Developed principally for use in native forests, the method is applied here to rank vegetation habitat condition in plantations and managed native forests. Plantations were assessed against benchmarks for the original native forest types known to exist on the sites prior to vegetation clearance. Habitat condition scores were derived concurrently but independently of the floristic analysis using different observers to provide a valid comparison of the more detailed quantitative measures with the relative condition score.

RESULTS FOREST STRUCTURE The stand analysis (Table 21.1) reflects the contrasting forest management practices and respective disturbance histories of the different forest zones with major differences in tree Table 21.2: Floristic analysis of forest sample plots in five forest types at Springmount and The Springs, April 2007 Plantation Thinned high E. nitens forest dry ex-pasture E. obliqua (1989)

Plantation E. nitens ex-bush (1992)

Regrowth forest dry E. obliqua (late 1970s)

Old growth forest dry E. obliqua

Forest zone

A

B

C

D

E

No. vascular plants per plot (N)

432 (86)

301 (66)

301 (151)

261 (126)

396 (172)

No. plant species per plot (S) a

22.7 (3.1)

12.0 (1.0)

14.0 (3.6)

9.5 (0.7)

12.5 (0.7)

Plant diversity, Simpson’s index (D)

0.74 (0.04)

0.61 (0.05)

0.76 (0.07)

0.71 (0.01)

0.77 (0.03)

Plant diversity, Shannon-Weiner index (H’)

2.83 (0.26)

2.12 (0.27)

2.49 (0.50)

2.28 (0.11)

2.65 (0.36)

Data show plot means excluding weeds (with standard deviations), n = 3 replicate plots a: Species richness (S) is the number of vascular plant species per sample plot 200 m2

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Table 21.3: Vegetation condition analysis of forest habitats in five forest types at Springmount and The Springs, April 2007 Plantation Thinned high E. nitens forest dry ex-pasture E. obliqua (1989)

Plantation E. nitens ex-bush (1992)

Regrowth forest dry E. obliqua (late 1970s)

Old growth forest dry E. obliqua

Forest zone

A

B

C

D

E

Large trees (10)

8

0

0

0

10

Tree canopy cover (5)

3

5

5

5

5

Lack of weeds (15)

13

13

13

13

15

Understorey lifeforms (25)

20

10

15

15

15

Recruitment (10)

10

3

3

3

6

Organic litter (5)

5

4

5

5

5

Large logs (5)

5

0

4

5

5

Patch size (10)

8

8

8

8

10

Nearby native vegetation (10)

5

1

1

3

4

Connectivity w. core (5)

4

3

3

4

5

Total habitat score (100)

81

47

57

61

80

Values in brackets show maximum score possible for each criterion. Shading density indicates observed values at or near the maximum of the range Source: Adapted from TASVEG Version 1.0, Michaels (2006)

density and tree size due to silvicultural intervention. Tree density, tree basal area and foliage projective cover are all lower in the thinned native forest (Zone A) than in the old growth forest (Zone E). Current tree basal area in the old growth forest sample is very high due to biomass accumulation, the lack of recent disturbance and the coincidence of several large specimen trees of E. obliqua in the small sample plots. However, similar rates of regeneration (number of small trees) and higher plant species richness in the thinned eucalypt forest (A) compared to the old growth forest (E) indicate the silvicultural and floristic benefits of forest disturbance designed for tree regeneration (Tables 21.1 and 21.2). In successional terms, early to mid-secondary species such as E. obliqua are favoured by such disturbance as they are unsuited to dense cover in heavily stocked and largely undisturbed remnant forest understoreys in the absence of fire (Zone E, Table 21.1). In the plantation (Zones B and C), tree height, basal area and canopy cover each responded to the small difference in plantation age, and possibly differing growth rates due to different genetics of E. nitens seed sources, while stand density reflects recent thinning history (Table 21.1). Differences in foliage cover and tree size suggest that canopy development has been slower in the younger plantation. The thinned 18-year-old E. nitens plantation (Zone B) and the 30-year-plus (unthinned) regrowth E. obliqua forest (Zone D) achieved a standing tree basal area equivalent to the silviculturally thinned high forest of native E. obliqua (Zone A). However, tree size distributions within the stands (e.g. %BA on trees >60 cm DBHOB) are clearly different, with larger stems in the thinned high forest contributing sawlog volume, wood product quality and merchantability in the future. In summary, compared to the old growth stand, thinning of the E. obliqua high forest resulted in higher species richness through added regeneration opportunities, especially for early successional taxa. As expected, the thinned high forest shows reduced tree density and lower total standing basal area (hence lower biomass and wood volume) following thinning

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removals in 2000. The regrowth E. obliqua forest maintained very high tree density (in the absence of silvicultural thinning) and comparable basal area to the thinned high forest and E. nitens plantations (of half the age). Tree species richness (T) in the regrowth stand has been maintained or enhanced, but the complement of all plant taxa (S) is reduced compared to other forest types. FLORISTIC DIVERSITY Differences in floristic diversity (Table 21.2) reflect the silvicultural and disturbance histories outlined above. Plant species richness (S) is most sensitive to forest management practice, with the number of plant species per plot in the thinned high forest (Zone A) two to three times the values recorded in other regimes. Plant diversity values are high in the old growth forest (E), but equal or higher in the silviculturally thinned stand (A) of comparable dry E. obliqua forest. For similar disturbance-related reasons, the floristic diversity of regrowth native forest and ex-bushland plantation sites are also comparable, but lower than the thinned and old growth native forests (Zones A and E) for the Shannon-Weiner index which adds weight to infrequent species. Measures of plant diversity (Simpson’s and Shannon-Weiner index) for regrowth and ex-bushland plantation are greater than in the ex-pasture plantation site (Zone B). These results indicate that the floristic diversity of the thinned native high forest is comparable to that of the old growth forest, challenging the commonly held view that maximum floristic diversity is likely to be found in undisturbed old growth forest. Results of replicate sample plots confirm the minor differences. The analysis also shows lower plant diversity in the ex-pasture plantation (Zone B) compared with the ex-bushland plantation (Zone C), in keeping with the loss of native flora during the intervening period of pasture management. VEGETATION CONDITION As a broad measure of forest habitat value, the scores for vegetation condition (Table 21.3) closely correlate with the results of the floristic analysis (Table 21.2). While floristic diversity alone is not a complete descriptor of habitat value nor of ecosystem diversity as a whole, it is apparent that the two forms of biodiversity assessment (Tables 21.2 and 21.3) produced results which are closely parallel across the five forest management regimes (Zones A–E). This result adds confidence to the general applicability of TASVEG and similar rapid assessment methods (e.g. Habitat Hectares, Parkes et al. 2003) and suggests that measures of floristic diversity may act as surrogates for a broader range of habitat attributes relevant to biodiversity.

BIODIVERSITY AND THE FARM FORESTRY ENTERPRISE Sale of selected silvicultural thinnings of mature E. obliqua high forest (Zone A) for sawlog and pulpwood in 2000 was sufficient to pay for the establishment of new plantations on neglected pastures on lower flats during 2001. Commercial thinnings from the native high forest (Zone A) and plantation regimes (Zones B and C) also generated early returns on wood fibre production for pulpwood. The forestry objective is to add longer-term value by producing a projected mix of veneer logs, sawlogs, wood fibre, fuelwood and preservative-treated roundwood material such as fence posts and poles. Although the focus of this case study has been biodiversity values, the forestry enterprise is meeting sustainable commercial objectives as well. Detailed financial forecasts (not presented 232

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here) prepared by the owner-managers for plantations established during 1989–2001 (Zones B and C) assumed a mean annual wood volume increment of 15 m3 ha-1 yr-1 over the life of the rotations (AFG 2005). To date, average mean annual increment at first thinning has equalled 12 m3 ha-1 yr-1 and that value is expected to rise during the remaining life of the rotation. Furthermore, the rate includes production on broken stony country at higher elevations on the property and is therefore less than the optimal productivity achieved on favoured sites. This study indicates that the native forest estate (in Zones A, D and E) is being successfully managed for biodiversity outcomes within the context of a timber production enterprise, indicated by stand structural attributes, indices of floristic diversity and vegetation condition (Tables 21.1–21.3). Of particular importance are the measures of biodiversity and habitat condition in the silviculturally managed native eucalypt forests. The high forest thinning (Zone A) adds significantly and positively to plant species richness (S in Table 21.2) relative to that reported for the old growth forest (Zone E). In this example, thinning-related disturbance of native E. obliqua high forest favours recruitment and variety of lifeforms in the understorey (Zone A, Table 21.3), thereby conferring a high degree of measured floristic diversity (D and H' in Table 21.2) and adding to the recruitment and understorey scores for habitat condition. Net diversity and condition outcomes for thinned E. obliqua forest are therefore comparable to the old growth E. obliqua forest (Zone E), even accounting for the disturbance-related successional differences in species mix and habitat impacts which are a consequence of managed intervention. Understorey lifeforms and the presence of large logs score highly in the regrowth E. obliqua forest (Zone D, Table 21.3) and there is a similar benefit conferred by remaining but partially burnt windrows in the ex-bushland plantation (Zone C, Table 21.3). In both instances, structural components remaining from former high forest stands before clearance have assisted in maintaining habitat and biodiversity status of the subsequent production forests relative to old growth (and thinned high forest). Future management interventions in regrowth native forest (Zone D) and ex-bushland plantation (Zone C) will determine the extent to which these relict benefits are passed on to subsequent stands on those sites. Forest management in Tasmania is governed by the Tasmanian Forest Practices Code, which provides scientifically based standards for environmental protection during timber harvesting and other forest operations (Forest Practices Board 2000). At the scale of this farm forestry enterprise (760 ha), the Lord family forestry operations are meeting wood production targets while exceeding the code’s environmental standards, achieving high rates of forest regeneration (Zone A) and protecting significant riparian and remnant forest areas (Zone E).

CONCLUSION Measures of floristic diversity and habitat condition indicate that carefully integrated farm forestry confers significant biodiversity value across five different forest management regimes. Indices of floristic diversity were derived in terms of two internationally accepted standards for the estimation of taxon diversity, each based on plant species richness and evenness. Vegetation habitat condition was assessed independently against benchmarks for comparable native forest types in good condition. The case study demonstrates that, at the farm scale, with careful planning and skilled forest management, a matrix of native forests and plantations can be silviculturally managed for both commercial production and biodiversity protection. 233

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Analysis indicates that, at this scale, silviculturally managed native E. obliqua forests are capable of matching the biodiversity capacity of adjoining intact old growth forest. Indeed, the results suggest that the capacity for biodiversity protection is enhanced in forest regimes that are dependent on a managed degree of disturbance, while maintaining key elements of forest cover. For example, compare the thinned high forest of E. obliqua (Zone A) and regrowth E. obliqua forest (Zone D). Opportunities for plant species regeneration and recruitment, and hence the observed diversity of understorey lifeforms and floristic diversity generally, are all maximised in the silviculturally managed high forest compared with neighbouring regrowth and mature old growth forest on this site. This is a snapshot at one point in time. Differences in forest structure and regeneration observed in this case study suggest that a dynamic and holistic interpretation of ecosystem biodiversity is required to fully account for the observed ecological effects of different forest disturbances and management histories. It is the careful juxtaposition of forest management strategies within the one family-sized landholding, and the one forest landscape, that appears to contribute to the productivity and biodiversity values of this enterprise. The different forest management regimes in the farm forestry matrix (Zones A–E) provide varied habitat features and regeneration opportunities within each forest regime as reported here and across the estate. The variety of adjoining forest regimes and canopy structures are expected to add dimension to biodiversity and other ecosystem values, such as resilience, in the face of environmental change. The dynamics of these longer-term ecological functions deserve further study in the context of private farm forestry.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Technical and field assistance was provided by landholders John and Diana Lord and by Scott Livingston, David Lane, Peter Heading, Semone Keppel, Michael Castley and Gordon McCutchan of Private Forests Tasmania and the University of Tasmania.

REFERENCES AFG (2005). Application, J & D Lord, Tree Farmer of the Year Award, Tasmania. Australian Forest Growers (Tas.). Forest Practices Board (2000). Forest practices code. Forest Practices Board: Tasmania. FWPRDC (2006). Forests, wood and Australia’s carbon balance. Forest & Wood Products Research & Development Corporation/Cooperative Research Centre for Greenhouse Accounting. Australian Government: Canberra. Harris S & Kitchener A (eds) (2005). From forest to fjaeldmark. Descriptions of Tasmania’s vegetation. Tasmanian Vegetation Mapping Program, Biodiversity Conservation Branch, Dept. of Primary Industries, Water and Environment: Hobart. Michaels K (2006). A manual for assessing vegetation condition in Tasmania. Version 1.0. Resource Management & Conservation Branch, Dept of Primary Industries, Water & Environment: Hobart. Parkes D, Newell G & Cheal D (2003). Assessing the quality of native vegetation: the Habitat Hectares approach. Ecological Management and Restoration 4, S29–38.

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22 The Tamar Principles Bernard Lloyd, Ted Lefroy and Kay Bailey

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wo hundred and sixty-five people – from overseas, from every state of Australia, from every level of Australian government and every major primary industry – attended this three-day conference on ‘Biodiversity: balancing conservation and production’. One hundred stayed an extra day to attend an interactive session with a bold aim: to distil their collective wisdom into a ‘Gift to the Future’. Participants gathered in the University of Tasmania’s barn-like Old Drama Theatre and sat around the walls in a large circle waiting to meet the final session facilitator, Gerard Castles.

THE PROCESS Castles immediately broke the huge circle. He asked delegates to rearrange their chairs into about a dozen smaller circles and just sit and wag their chins a while, to share their personal conference experiences (Figure 22.1a). It was as if campfires had been lit and around each fire the conference was transmuted into stories. Each group then shared one story with all delegates. In the second stage, to create a sort of democracy of ideas and to have every voice recorded, delegates were herded to a wall and presented with the word ‘PRODUCER’ written in the middle of a huge blank sheet of paper. In a free-for-all brainstorm, delegates could call out any current or emerging trends. A scribe soon filled the ‘trend-wheel’ with about 40 trends, radiating outwards from (but also all leading back to) the Producer. Every delegate was then given five sticky dots and asked to vote by placing one or more dot-votes beside the trends they thought most significant.

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Looking at the short and crude movies recorded with a digital camera during these sessions, the delegates’ sense of comfort and confidence at this stage – and their focus and engagement – is palpable. Castles then introduced his principal tool – a deceptively simple question posed as an unfinished statement. He had this statement on pieces of paper stuck up all around the room (Figure 22.1b): For individual producers to build businesses that allow biodiversity to thrive, we must … New small groups were quickly formed to brainstorm ways to finish the sentence. Castles wanted answers in the form of phrases, ideas, ways of finishing the statement and thereby answering its embedded question. Every group’s suggested answers, written on more sheets of paper, were stuck randomly along a wall as they were offered (Figure 22.1). There were about 80 suggestions, some of which were very similar. Harnessing the whole group again, as well as four helpers, the written ideas were stockyarded together to bring like ideas with like (Figure 22.1). This penultimate process produced seven clusters of like ideas. The final step involved division into seven new small groups – one for each idea cluster – which were required to reduce each group of ideas to a single sentence. The seven sentences are the collected wisdom known as the Tamar Principles. The session then broke up and a working group of three (the authors of this chapter) gave each of the seven sentences a title and, as carefully and gently as we could, recast the sentences for grammatical unity. The Tamar Principles are published below. There are seven, but they are not numbered. They are by physical necessity in an order and we see a path flowing from first to last, but alternative orderings are possible and no principle was ever intended to have priority over any other. Perhaps the best way to see them is in a circle.

s s s s s s s

Respect – Our respect for nature and natural process starts with respect for ourselves and others. Consider the future – We have a duty of care to those around us as well as to future generations. Set goals – Our goals are as clear as we can make them and we fit our actions to the scale of our goals. Be open – Keep an open mind about new ways of thinking and doing. Learn – Personal anecdotes, the experiences of our neighbours, scientific and technical writings, the land and the sea: we listen and learn from them all. Demonstrate – We record our successes and our failures and we recognise, celebrate and promote our progress. Share – We seek ways to share with the whole community the benefits and the costs of protecting and encouraging biodiversity.

In the following sections, each of the principles is illustrated with edited extracts from several case studies presented at the conference and concludes with the list of actions suggested by the delegates to enact each principle. These actions have been added at the request of the conference organisers, who did not want to see the disappearance of the many practical suggestions that emerged during the final day.

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Figure 22.1: The group process by which the seven Tamar Principles evolved

RESPECT Natural resource management is, in essence, respecting natural process and ensuring that human activity does not compromise its survival. The building and maintenance of productive human relationships across traditional social, cultural and political boundaries is imperative. In the mid 1990s we began to engage with our land as a living being with its own history and its own aspirations. If biodiversity collapses, civilisation will collapse. We’ve seen that over thousands of years. We wanted to do something so we went back to the beautiful native patches around our farm and just spent some time there. Didn’t ask, just looked and listened. We noticed all these beautiful things and then we decided we’d act. I gave biodiversity its own agency and being. I saw it as a type of production, then I added financial well-being, cultural well-being and personal well-being – and I wanted all four. I collected roadside seeds, my parents joined the Field Naturalists Club, Mum planted quandong trees, and we planted hundreds of thousands of native tree seeds. We also looked at culture; we had dance parties combined with tree plantings. We had WWOOFers (Willing Workers on Organic Farms), had refugees. Ten years on, we’re still cropping, still wool farming, but we’re growing crops in native pasture. We’re into biological farming, natural fertilisers, eliminating chemicals, and going around the back door of the mass-produced to find the people who don’t want to be part of all that. We’ve got the culture, got the landscape, and it really makes you feel good about the

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land (Graham Strong, Narrandera, NSW: ‘Regenerative agriculture: a dialogue with nature’). An integrated matrix of native forests and plantations on farms can protect biodiversity (as well as satisfying a broad basket of social and community benefits) while satisfying the silviculturist’s forest production goals (Greg Unwin, John Lord and Arthur Lyons, Great Western Tiers, Tasmania: ‘Integrated farm forestry’). The revegetation of 2000 km of roadsides between Victoria’s Big and Little Deserts has captured the local community’s attention, expanded into wildlife corridors and remnant vegetation fencing and now draws tree-planters from as far away as Melbourne (Dean Roberts and Don Haines, Wimmera, Victoria: ‘Project Hindmarsh’).

ACTIONS s Approach everything you do with a respectful attitude and an open mind. s Respect sociological, environmental, productive and cultural dimensions. s Build and foster trust, respect and credibility between governments and farmers, between consumers and farmers. s Build coalitions. s Have a belief in what you are doing. s Support others.

CONSIDER THE FUTURE Producers are privileged to live and work on the land. Fundamental to the management of biodiversity is balancing the responsibility of management for future generations with the rights of ownership. I harvest sunlight. Mimicking the methods developed by living organisms over 3.5 billion years led me to a farming system that is less risky, lowered my reliance on inputs and delivered regular profits. Once upon a time we saw ourselves as graziers and croppers; now we see ourselves as managing sunlight, plants and time. What we do is pasture cropping: sowing annual crops into native pastures and then we match our livestock to our carrying capacity. We have fencing divisions, mobile water. We plan for diversity, increasing perenniality, full groundcover, an effective water cycle, more soil organisms, more time for plants to grow – so we harvest more sunlight. By slowing up grazing, we increased spontaneous regeneration. By maintaining groundcover we reduced run-off to zero. By increasing litter, we reduced the distance between perennial plants – even during a drought. We haven’t used any inorganic fertilisers since 1989. It is low-cost, low-risk, relatively low-yielding but highly profitable. And by planning we can see at least four months ahead. It’s all happened through having a holistic goal and a holistic framework for making decisions (David Marsh, Boorowa, NSW: ‘A different approach to balance’).

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There has, and always will be, uncertainty about the conservation needs of any landscape. The challenge is to develop practices that cope with these uncertainties (Tom and Cynthia Dunbabin, Dunalley, Tasmania: ‘Nature conservation is not just threatened species’). In the tropical countryside of India, after more than 2000 years of agriculture, most of the pre-cultivation species have survived because forested landscapes and farming systems with high structural complexity have both been retained (Jai Ranganathan, India: ‘Agricultural biodiversity over the millennia’).

ACTIONS s Understand that landholders have a duty of care to manage for future generations. s Accept that what happens on the land impacts on aquatic and marine systems. s Promote and maintain a diversity of farming practices and enterprises to maintain a heterogeneous landscape. s Recognise the message from ‘the silent partner’ – the land on which our agricultural systems are based. s Embrace the concept of land stewardship.

SET GOALS Action needs to be appropriate to the scale of the goal. Goals or objectives can relate to individual species, to multiple species, to communities, to environmental processes (water filtration, vegetation cover, soil erosion) or the management of pests. Small goals are more likely to succeed but even first steps should keep in mind the ultimate goal. The decision to conserve or convert 204 ha of native forest to plantations was not an easy one. Maintaining a family farm in an increasingly global market, maintaining a balance on a three-legged stool – social, environmental and economic – requires careful long-term planning, commitment and compromise. The decision about whether we conserved or converted 204 ha of native forest to plantation demonstrates this. We agonised over it because we enjoyed walking over and hunting in this block. So first, I wrote to the Tasmanian Forest Reserve Program about a covenant. They said its conservation value was $61 000 but that they could do better elsewhere. Our second option was to harvest. Harvest offered a stumpage value of $752 000 (and, ultimately, $5 million in finished goods.) It also provided 10 man-years employment. So to conserve the block was a ‘gift’ of nearly $700 000. And the difficulty with that is that we have to achieve on the other two stool legs (social and economic) or someone, for example a managed investment scheme, will buy us out. We compromised. We cut the block and put in 122 ha of hardwood and softwood plantation. We kept 70 ha native and converted the rest to agriculture. Harvesting also gave us the money to do some environmental work. Because our properties are in Launceston’s water catchment, a major stream was fenced off. The environmental service of that land

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was calculated at $3000 per year (Ian Dickenson, Blessington, Tasmania: ‘Balancing on a three-legged stool’). It’s all happened through having a holistic goal and a holistic framework for making decisions (David Marsh, Boorowa, NSW: ‘A different approach to balance’). To be effective, the desired outcomes of conservation programs must mesh with the goals and aspirations of the landowner, including their need to be profitable. Programs need clear, outcome-based objectives and practices that have the capacity to meet them while coping with changes and risks in the environment (Tom and Cynthia Dunbabin, Dunalley, Tasmania: ‘Nature conservation is not just threatened species’). Balancing conservation and production is a constant sum game where the benefits and losses to all players sum to the same value because taking a larger slice for one reduces the amount of ‘cake’ available for the others. High productivity and high diversity are not compatible but a landscape mosaic makes compromise achievable (Sue McIntyre, CSIRO, Canberra: ‘The constant sum game’).

ACTIONS s Start with small achievable goals. s Operate at a scale appropriate to your goal.

BE OPEN To have profitable production systems that encourage and enhance greater biodiversity, we all need to be flexible, innovative and prepared to abandon old ideas and practices. Of the entire world’s fishery discards, tropical prawn trawlers ‘catch’ nearly one quarter but putting lights on their nets has resulted in a win-win for fishers, fish and the sea. Trawling is a highly unselective fishing method and tropical prawn trawling is responsible for nearly one quarter of all global fisheries’ discards. The Australian Fisheries Management bycatch management plan stipulates a radical change: the prawn fishery must halve its bycatch by 2008. Step 1 was save the ‘charismatic megafauna’ like sea turtles. But who cares for all the little fishies? I do. The problem was that the fish are the same size as the prawns. A range of engineering solutions, some by industry (they too can be quite innovative) helped keep little fish out but just because we don’t bring them to the surface doesn’t mean the small fry aren’t harmed. That got me thinking: Can we make fish avoid the net? We got $9000, some sturdy lights and – most importantly – a prawn fisherman open to the idea, the skipper of the Stella Anne. What happened? When we turned on the lights underwater one in three fish swam away safe and – better yet – prawn and crab weight went up more than 30%. We now think we create a big EXIT sign for fish. Fishers can steam around 30% less of the time, chew up 30% less of the seabed and still catch the same number of prawns.

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So you’ve got happy fishers, a happier seabed and very happy fish (David Maynard, Australian Maritime College, Tasmania: ‘Tackling prawn-trawler bycatch’). Fallow deer had long been the subject of conflict in Tasmania between farmers, shooters and government. Property-based wildlife management plans have seen a dramatic reduction in this conflict, greater understanding of wildlife and reduced usage of the poison 1080. Now covering over 1 million hectares of land, the plans have now been adopted in other Australian states (Matt Byrne, Dept of Primary Industries & Water, Tasmania: ‘The deer hunter’). The landscape can bounce back very quickly if we change what we do but we all want to believe that what we’re doing is good and so if we acknowledge that what someone else is doing might be something that we aspire to do, we’ve also got to say that what we’re currently doing isn’t so good. It is changing ourselves that is the problem (David Marsh, Boorowa, NSW: ‘A different approach to balance’). Our most threatened landscapes are already populated with exotic plants and animals and conservationists must consider them as assets, not just threats (Tom and Cynthia Dunbabin, Dunalley, Tasmania: ‘Nature conservation is not just threatened species’).

ACTIONS s Be open to innovative ideas, ways of doing, thinking outside the box. s Be prepared to take risks. s If you plan for it, you can manage risk. s Be flexible, expect perverse and unintended outcomes and be prepared to change. s Accept that there is no ‘one way’.

LEARN We must develop and maintain open channels of communication to enable dialogue, understanding and information-sharing. Formal and informal sources of knowledge and communication all have their place. Personal anecdote, the shared experience of neighbours, other producers and scientific literature on ecological process are all important contributors to building a collective understanding and capacity. A network of farm-clusters provides a forum to meet, talk and plan together, to learn from each other. It creates confidence and motivation. Environmental Champions is a grassroots movement to demonstrate sustainability achievements in the rice industry in southern NSW. In the late 1990s rice farmers were feeling that there was a plethora of information to understand, increasing legislation, and community criticism over environmental concerns. The farmers wanted an environment policy and then they needed a way to deliver those policies on the ground. That’s where Environmental Champions came in. It’s the delivery

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mechanism, it focuses on the people. The heart of it is the network of small cluster groups, 5–10 people in each. They’re self-selected (as neighbours or friends), they all meet and talk, plan together, learn from each other (and ‘experts’). This creates confidence and motivation, links productivity with conservation and has many social benefits. After three years 25% of the industry is engaged – a huge result. Groups have created vegetation corridors together (and much sooner than they might have individually), others have gathered information about the benefits of increased health across the whole farm and shared that information to drive further research and learning (Janelle McGufficke, Australian Rice Growers: ‘Environmental Champions’). I advocate partnerships with scientists to better manage environments. We need new tools, the ones we have been using haven’t been sufficient – I won’t say unsuccessful – but they haven’t been sufficient (Ian Dickenson, Blessington, Tasmania: ‘Balancing on a three-legged stool’). Translating research is critical to success. Conservation advice should be delivered in the context of the farm enterprise/business and recognise the importance of a landowner’s ‘sense of place’ (Mary Goodacre, Goimbla, NSW: ‘Biodiversity and the wool industry – the Land Water & Wool Program’).

ACTIONS s Understand what biodiversity is on your place and in your landscape. s Understand society’s expectations for biodiversity conservation. s Understand ecological processes. s Create opportunities in schools to learn more about ecology and production systems. s Be well-informed: gain an understanding of options and baseline information and share your knowledge. s Communicate, educate, inform, inspire, listen – these are reciprocal. s Seek advice and learn from others’ experiences (good and bad). s Communicate with your neighbours and think at a bigger scale (or picture). s Provide more forums for direct interaction between science and producers. s Tell our story to farmers, the wider community and decision-makers.

DEMONSTRATE To build a case for change within communities, industries and the broader society, we need to record and document in words, pictures and numbers our successes and failures, and to recognise, celebrate and promote our progress in a consistent way. A farmer told me he wasn’t planting one more tree until I could prove what he’d achieved so far. When Western Australia’s central wheat belt farmers increased their farms’ perennial vegetation cover from 9% to 14% onlookers dismissed them as crazy but after two years study – and we threw everything at it (satellites, soil

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pits, ground surveys, consultation) – the good news is that of the three types of bush surveyed (‘Never isolated’, ‘Isolated’ and ‘Reintegrated’) the reintegrated remnants [the farmers had created] had nearly as much diversity as the ‘never isolated’ remnants. So, revegetation works. But it also costs. The challenge was to maximise the benefits and minimise the costs by focusing the revegetation on the least productive land. To find places where farmers were throwing away money – and save that money. By really studying the land, we found that these farmers are operating at, or near, their economic optimum but we (in consultation with the landowner) can create the most cost-effective revegetation corridors. In one case the first option was to create a 30 ha reveg zone. It would have cost (that is, lost) $95 per hectare per annum. Careful study showed that using other land could get 80 ha of revegetation at half that price per hectare. So, the farmer had to pay more in total, but the loss per hectare was halved and the amount of reveg was more than doubled (Patrick Smith, CSIRO, and Gavin Morgan, central wheat belt of WA: ‘Good farmers and green’). After transforming a third of ‘Talaheni’ to native vegetation, my wool and beef production increased in both quantity and quality (John Ive, Talaheni, NSW: ‘Environmental progress as a precursor to production gains’). We showed that patches of native vegetation, especially grasslands, provide a ‘pool’ of pest managers for farmers (Cam Nicholson, Southern Farming Group, Victoria: ‘The value of bugs’). It makes you feel incredibly good to see your farm doing all right when there’s dust flying around. These are fat sheep in a drought, that have never been fed (David Marsh, Boorowa, NSW: ‘A different approach to balance’).

ACTIONS s Keep a record, at least photos. s Market, promote and celebrate the good work to the wider community. s Increase recognition of primary producers’ useful contributions. s Recognition of the public benefit from landholders retaining and managing landscapes and biodiversity. s Be able to quantify the costs and benefits of conservation activities. s Demonstrate the benefits (productive, social and environmental), understand the costs and who should pay which costs.

SHARE Producers are playing an important role in the development of policies and markets promoting and rewarding production systems that manage for biodiversity goals. Managing biodiversity within production systems frequently comes at a cost. Experience showed that profits can be made but the whole community must share the costs of managing and conserving biodiversity.

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Producers have a role in the education of policy-makers, consumers and the wider community about their efforts to maintain biodiversity, its inherent costs and the public benefits. The Murray Catchment is home to three of NSW’s endangered ground-nesting birds: the brolga, the plains wanderer and the bush stone curlew. All three depend on remnant habitat on private property. Some landholders take great interest in the birds, however, their actions and knowledge have been largely hidden from, and unsupported by, government. And the dialogue between government and landowners had been less than friendly. The government spends a few million each year, mostly on fencing, a little bit for weed and pest control, hundreds of thousands of trees and tubestock plantings. We hoped it has been effective – but there has been a fair bit of hope. We got a lot of feedback from the community suggesting they would like input into how we spend the money. So we are trialling Nest Egg. Rather than advising farmers what they should do, it’s an auction. It lets farmers decide what they can do and to bid for upfront per hectare funding to do it. It relies on the landholder’s knowledge and business acumen. We created habitat benchmarks, bonuses if they exceed the habitat benchmarks, and a bird bounty: $1500 for a pair of brolgas, $1500 for a curlew and $1500 for a sighting of a plains wanderer. Now we are getting expressions of interest. It is risky, it might not work, but we are paying farmers for diversity (Alexandra Knight, NSW Murray Catchment: ‘Bringing back ground-nesting birds’). Biodiversity outcomes are a funding challenge. Voluntary conservation programs like Land for Wildlife and the auction Bush Tender are proving cost-effective (Kate Steel, Queensland Murray–Darling region: ‘Bush Tender’). Most farmers would not consider nature conservation their ‘core business’ but land management tenders combine sustainable production with environmental outcomes and leverage farmer contributions (David Walker and Rob Frend, Gunnedah, NSW: ‘Land management tenders’). Approaches to covenanting in Tasmania are broadening. ‘Fixed-term’ covenants join ‘ forever’ covenants and a shift from strict conservation to sustainable use is being trialled (Louise Gilfedder, DPIW, and Rae Young, Tasmanian Midlands: ‘Conservation and grazing’).

ACTIONS s As a community we must be willing to pay for environmental services provided by individual producers. s Ensure consumers are aware of the true cost (energy, carbon etc.) and pay for biodiversity conservation. s Reward change with incentives and acknowledgement. s Include biodiversity in business accounting.

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s s s

Remove perverse market signals, e.g. drought funding, tax incentives. We must ensure that those who practise sustainable natural resource management are paid better than those who don’t. We must broaden society’s definition of prosperity beyond dollars, understanding the value of natural capital and considering the reality of environmental debt. Be more discerning consumers.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The conference organisers are indebted to the skill and humour of Gerard Castles in leading the large and enthusiastic group through the process of developing the Tamar Principles. The authors also wish to acknowledge the vision of the conference convenor, Christopher Strong, who suggested the idea of the principles as a ‘Gift to the Future’, and the participants who gave permission for transcripts of their presentations to be quoted here.

REFERENCE Lloyd B (2007). The Tamar Principles: outcomes of the conference on Biodiversity: balancing conservation and production, Launceston, Tasmania, 26–28 June 2007. Tamar Natural Resource Management. Available online at http://www.tamar-nrm.org.au/BIO-Nov/conference.html.

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23 Closing the adaptive management loop: why practical experience is necessary but not sufficient and science is essential but not always right Ted Lefroy

F

rom the air in summer, inland Australia presents an intricate pattern of creek lines and vegetation over a patchwork of soils, all lying beneath a rigid grid of fence lines and roads. Occasionally, geography dictates that the cadastral grid of the surveyor conforms to the shape of the landscape. Usually it follows the compass, at odds with the movement of water and animals and the ancient patterns of soil and vegetation. A sign that we are succeeding in making conservation of biodiversity part of everyday land use is where this grid and the disturbance regime it represents becomes more sympathetic to the form and function of the landscape. Fencing to soil type, linking islands of vegetation using creek lines and other natural features, shifting the timing and intensity of grazing, seeding, spraying, mowing, thinning, logging and burning to accommodate the lifecycles of endemic plants and animals are some of the ways this is beginning to happen. The case studies in this book provide a source of hope and a note of caution for this continuing endeavour. Hope comes from the accounts of dedicated individuals and community groups who have been searching, in some cases over decades, for ways to make nature conservation an integral part of the business of producing food and fibre. Their stories provide inspiration, encouragement and practical experience for others starting out. Common features in these stories are the

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whole-of-business and whole-of-life changes that families have gone through in their search for more sustainable land use and livelihoods (see Chapters 6–9). Hope is also evident in the accounts of the first wave of the new economics. Tender schemes and reverse auctions have seen landholders competing for public stewardship payments that offset the costs of creating conditions favourable to the survival of target plants and animals (Chapters 12–15). When the Landcare movement of the early 1980s ushered in the current wave of public conservation programs, it was generally felt that awareness, education and inspiration were all it would take to motivate people to ‘do the right thing’. Public funds would only be required to prime the pump of goodwill. It is now apparent that most forms of conservation have an opportunity cost, recognised through the emerging markets which match the continuing cost of ‘doing the right thing’ to the growing desire within the broader community to protect species, their habitat and more tangible ecosystem services like water supply. The cautionary note comes from the realisation that in many cases we are still unsure of the right thing to do, and where and how much we need to do it to prevent and reverse land degradation and the associated decline of species and communities. Many of our case studies reinforce the fact that we still have some way to go on three fronts – being clear about our conservation goals, being able to measure the impacts of our efforts, and being able to account for public and private benefits and costs. This concluding chapter reflects on the hope and caution in these case studies, highlighting the innovation and enterprise of dedicated individuals as well as underlining the things we still need to work on.

MULTIPLE DESTINATIONS, MANY ROADS The call for abstracts of papers was deliberately structured to encourage first-hand accounts from producers in the three primary industries of farming, forestry and fisheries. This was done in the knowledge that a great deal of effort has been put into nature conservation by producers over the last two decades that is not widely accessible and from which we might learn what constitutes effective practice. Fifty-five abstracts were accepted, the majority from the farming sector and the others in roughly the same proportions as the selection in this book (12 farming, three forestry and two fisheries). Presenters were asked to construct their abstracts and presentations around four questions.

s s s s

What were the biodiversity conservation goals of their case study? What evidence was there that they were achieving these goals? What were the costs involved? Was there a trade-off or benefit to their production?

The focus was intended to address weaknesses that several authors had identified in attempts to conserve biodiversity within production systems (Possingham et al. 2002; Pannell 2004; Lefroy & Smith 2004; Wallace 2007). Three features of the 55 presented case studies stood out. First, producers made up 40% of delegates, giving the conference a very practical feel and focus. For many it was their first conference presentation, and the enthusiasm to share experiences was evident in the length of discussion, the nature of the questions and the willingness of 100 delegates to remain for a fourth day to draw out lessons from the previous three days (see Chapter 22). Second, biodiversity was interpreted very broadly. So broadly that, to those whose life’s work is concerned with the fate of particular species or communities, most of the presentations 250

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were not about biodiversity conservation at all but about resource conservation in general with assumed, unspecified but rarely substantiated spin-off benefits for biodiversity. Third, only three of the responses directly addressed the questions about goals, evidence, costs and trade-offs. Most had not set out with specific objectives and consequently their ability to answer the other three questions was limited. The case studies by Dickenson, the Ives and Nicholson (Chapters 5, 7 and 11 respectively) stand out as exceptions. The first two address the questions at whole-farm and whole-business scale, the latter at the enterprise scale within a farming system. The first two describe changes in practice that occurred over a decade ago, accompanied by meticulous record-keeping. The Ives offer one of the few well-documented Australian cases of whole-farm land use change, carried out in the interests of conservation, that have had a positive influence on the quantity and quality of farm output, in this case fine wool. Dickenson highlights the full costs of the challenging decisions that face custodians of native forest with high commercial value, and the imperfect state of the art and science of placing value on indirect environmental benefits. Nicholson stands out as a rare example of a win-win outcome for native biodiversity and production in an intensive cropping system, with positive returns in the short term. The lack of answers to the four questions and the very general interpretation of biodiversity in the majority of case studies reinforces the view that attitude and goodwill, while essential ingredients in community conservation, are not sufficient to achieve biodiversity conservation in production systems. Mark Twain’s observation seems particularly appropriate to this endeavour: ‘If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will get you there’. Many different roads were described by people who were at many different stages in their journey. Before we return to the unanswered questions, an analysis of the different roads tells us something about what is working for biodiversity conservation.

GRAZING AND CONSERVATION A conclusion that emerges from six of the case studies (Chapters 6–8, 12, 14 and 17) is that it is easier to conserve biodiversity in the grazing industries than in production systems that involve a greater departure from the pre-agricultural plant communities. Less variation in the disturbance regime is required under livestock production to accommodate conservation of plant communities (Kirkpatrick & Bridle 2007) or their dependent endemic species animals (Chapter 14) than is the case under cropping, horticulture or forestry. This is particularly so where livestock production is based on native rather than sown pastures. In general terms, where the practices required to realise the commercial value of a resource are most similar to the practices required to achieve its conservation, the lower the trade-off between those two objectives and the higher the potential for mutual benefit. This generality is emphasised by a finding from a national study of conservation practice in the wool industry launched at the conference (Kirkpatrick & Bridle 2007) and described in one of the case studies (Chapter 17). Carefully managed grazing, used as a surrogate for fire, grazing by native herbivores and other disturbance regimes under which the plant communities evolved, was found to be beneficial to the persistence of certain native plants, especially forbs. ‘Lock up and leave’ was a less effective conservation strategy than judicious grazing. So, despite all the bad press that hard-hooved exotic animals have received in Australia, their careful management may present more opportunities for conserving the Australian biota than efforts to modify more intensive forms of primary production such as cropping. Grazing 251

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also represents a more economically resilient system, as an animal that forages widely for food buffers its human owners from the vagaries of climate and the consequent variability in plant production to which intensive agricultural systems are so vulnerable. Hence the persistence of livestock production around the world in regions too harsh (too dry or too cold) or too variable for cultivation (Ewell 1999). These six case studies (Chapters 6–8, 12, 14 and 17) suggest that grazing at the drier margins of Australia’s mixed farming zone presents opportunities for both producers and biodiversity and a viable alternative to the higher risks, higher inputs and (only in good years) higher returns from more intensive systems based on cropping.

CHANGE FROM THE GROUND UP Four of the case studies featured fundamental shifts in the attitude and practice of farming families. Superficially, these case studies (Chapters 6–8 and 17) were characterised by a shift towards more grazing and less cropping, lower levels of inputs (fertiliser, pesticides and fuel) and adoption of rotational or planned grazing strategies. More significantly, they featured goals set one or two levels down the food chain from their direct commercial interest in grazing animals, in that they all shared the objectives of protecting soil through retention of high levels of plant biomass year-round, and reduced disturbance of semi-natural areas to promote regeneration. Interest in nature conservation was expressed in all cases but rarely specified in terms of target species or communities. Conservation of biodiversity was commonly seen as a consequence of reducing the intensity of disturbance (to prevent soil erosion, survive drought or limit the spread of secondary salinity) rather than the prime motive for change. Chapter 7 describes a systematic approach to fitting land use to land capability based on slope, soil type, landscape position and endemic vegetation, providing some of the best available evidence that selectively retiring land (in this case a remarkable 25%) from production resulted in an increase in stocking rate. The message from these chapters is akin to the traditional axiom, ‘Look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves’. Get the basics right and you have a foundation for resilience in production systems and restoration of habitat. These landowners, working without specific biodiversity goals, had a message for conference organisers, ecologists and environmental advocates in general about the importance of approaching conservation in a holistic way rather than focusing primarily on the fate of charismatic, endangered or threatened species (Pannell 2004). These deeply personal accounts were also stories of change prompted by traumatic events such as drought, illness or personal loss. They arose out of the realisation that something had to give, things needed to be done differently for the family and the business to survive – out of that adversity came stories of environmental hope.

GRASSROOTS MOVEMENTS VS THE FORMAL CULTURE Several case studies feature concepts and practices that first emerged in the informal culture and were resisted or openly challenged by the scientific community before being acknowledged as having a place in the hierarchy of ‘best practice’. One variation on a theme that recurs

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through several case studies is planned or rotational grazing. This became popular through the work of Alan Savory (Savory 1988) and his holistic resource management movement which has become a whole-of-life philosophy (Savory & Butterfield 1999), with courses and accredited trainers. Claims for the benefits of rotational grazing have been challenged by rangeland ecologists (Hacker 1993; Hutchinson 1993) as being unsupported by evidence from replicated controlled experiments, and therefore unreliable. In a similar way, challenges by soil conservationists to the keyline farming system developed by Yeomans (1958, 1964) were equally adamant, very public and based on the argument that neither scientific evidence nor well-accepted principles supported the claims. The Commissioner of Soil Conservation in NSW made it a personal task to publicly discredit the Yeomans system, which he perceived as a threat to the authority of the Soil Conservation Service and the discipline of soil science (see appendix to Yeomans 1964). More recently, scientific scepticism about the claimed benefits of organic and biodynamic farming, natural sequence farming (Andrews 2006), intercropping and pasture cropping has been based on similar grounds, contradicting the experience of practitioners. These arguments have often been at cross-purposes, as the claims made by practitioners are frequently based on evidence occurring at the scale of whole farms and subcatchments – scales at which it is difficult if not impossible to apply the rules of evidence required in experimental science. The mounting evidence for the benefits of rotational grazing strategies has emerged particularly from research and development programs with a high level of farmer participation such as the Sustainable Grazing Systems program supported by the livestock industries, where producers have been influential in how their RD&E levies are spent (Mason et al. 2003). This experience challenges the tendency for a kneejerk reaction by the formal culture, and acknowledges the role that primary producers have always played as innovators of new practice, especially in areas not amenable to laboratory or small plot experiments. One characteristic of grassroots practice change that has often hindered its wider adoption has been the absence of first principles that are open to critical examination. Savory (1988) acknowledged that his approach of holistic resource management is built upon a principle of pasture management initially described by the agronomist Voisin (1959). Voisin’s principle is that when the timing of grazing is based on the phenology of the pasture plants and their ability to recover, pastures will persist longer and remain more productive than when grazing is based on maximising utilisation. Other popular movements, such as those promoting soil biologically mediated management of dryland salinity, have not been based on testable principles. They continue to be challenged by the formal culture and have not been widely adopted. Some of these movements have not helped themselves by filling the gaps in cause-and-effect relationships with conjecture and theory, and by claims that phenomena specific to particular locations, geology or climatic zones are universally applicable. Despite these shortcomings, our case studies show that the scientific community could benefit from being more circumspect before dismissing practices that emerge from the informal culture, particularly when these phenomena lie outside the problem domain amenable to experimental science based on statistical certainty. Snowden (2002) identifies four problem domains, defined by our ability to resolve cause and effect. He calls them the known, the knowable, the complex and the chaotic. The largescale phenomena encountered by farmers, foresters and other environmental managers lie in

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the domain of the complex problem where cause and effect is knowable only in retrospect through testing, sensing and responding. In contrast, most of the advances in agriculture and forestry have occurred in the known domain of controlled experiments and small-scale plots where statistical certainty rules. Agriculture and forestry sciences have been very successful at identifying the components of yield and improving production at the scale of plants, animals, paddock and coupe but less successful at appreciating or managing the off-site impacts of production on soil, water and biodiversity. Fisheries science, being historically dependent on the harvest of wild species, has always confronted problems in the complex domain (see Chapters 18 and 20) and contributed significantly to the concept of adaptive management through the seminal work of Walters (1986) and Walters and Holling (1990). Adaptive management places a greater emphasis on setting up a framework for learning than on getting it right from the outset. One of the first tasks in adaptive management is to develop a conceptual model of the system in question. Irrigation specialist Richard Stirzaker has described the most important requirements of the conceptual modelling stage as clarity and transparency so that participants can understand each other’s knowledge domains, everyone’s understanding of the problem is made explicit (no black boxes or complicated models), it is possible to see how a decision was arrived at (even if it is wrong) and decisions can be changed or added to as experience grows. The least important requirement is that a conceptual model give the correct answer (R. Stirzaker, pers. comm.). Our case studies are a reminder that when examining the larger-scale experience of practitioners, scientists should start by asking critical questions about the boundaries of consideration and apply appropriate methods of inquiry and rules of evidence, such as participatory investigation and modelling. Such an approach, based on the experience of growers and generalised through modelling, has been effective in promoting the adoption of conservation practices that were developed by farmers to increase profit and manage salinity and erosion (Lefroy et al. 2005; Ridley & Pannell 2005).

TO THE LOWEST BIDDER Four of the case studies (Chapters 12–15) describe the use of auctions as a means of identifying providers of conservation services. This approach appeals to governments because of the promise of greater efficiency and accountability, with the promise of more kilometres of fencing and more hectares of protected habitat secured per dollar of public funding than with direct grants (Stoneham et al. 2000). Auctions also have the advantage of forcing the purchaser to be more specific about the outcome they seek and the means by which it is to be achieved, both of which form part of the contract with successful bidders. This has generated interest in indices of environmental condition (Parkes et al. 2003; Chapter 21, this volume) and had the benefit of requiring ecologists to more clearly articulate the cause-and-effect relationships between the prescribed activities and the conservation outcome (Chapters 14 and 19, this volume). One disadvantage of auctions evident in the case studies is the additional effort required to inform potential bidders of the process, assess bids to ensure they are capable of providing the desired outcome, manage the contracting process, lodge caveats to protect the investments and carry out annual assessments of contracted suppliers. In general, the results so far have been good for transparency and accountability but are testing the capacity of regional conservation bodies.

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The weakness is that we are yet to close the adaptive management loop by setting up monitoring programs capable of detecting change that can be attributed to any particular intervention. In short, we are in no position to know whether one approach is more effective than another at achieving the desired biodiversity outcome. This is a specialised field, requiring knowledge of the life history of the target organisms (or, in the case of processes like water quality and vegetation condition, the scale and timing of key events such as flow regimes and recruitment) to ensure that a network of monitoring sites is measuring the right things in the right places at the right times and with sufficient replication to know whether we are having any influence (Field et al. 2007). Two innovations in environmental management of which Australia can be proud are the devolution of responsibility to regional groups who harness local knowledge and experience in priority setting and implementation, and the introduction of auctions which are a more precise, transparent and equitable method of identifying providers of environmental services than direct grants. This effort, however, remains in jeopardy until there is an adequate monitoring framework that can determine what’s worked and what hasn’t. Four audits of public environmental programs over the last decade have all come to the conclusion that it is simply not possible to report on the effectiveness of the billions of dollars invested in environmental improvement because no provision was made to carry out a quantitative assessment of outcomes (ANAO 1997, 1998, 2001, 2008). We can report on the outputs (number of volunteers engaged, kilometres of fencing erected, millions of trees planted and hectares of wetlands rehabilitated) but we cannot yet report on the desired change in the environment such as hectares of land protected against dryland salinity, the population viability of target bird species, or improvements in stream condition. Walters (1986) and Walters and Holling (1990) began a revolution in environmental management with their concept of adaptive management. While this has become the mantra of environmental management in Australia, it is frequently invoked in principle but rarely embraced in practice (Chapter 3). Lindenmayer and Burgman (2005) could find only two examples of true adaptive management in Australia, the management of kangaroos in western NSW and the western rock lobster fishery in WA. While auctions are improving our ability to complete stages in that adaptive cycle, we have yet to close the loop.

GOALS, COSTS AND TRADE-OFFS When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean, neither more nor less (Lewis Carroll 1865). Finally we return to the four questions asked of each submitted abstract – biodiversity goals, impacts, costs and trade-off. The question of impacts hinges on monitoring and the ability to measure outcomes, as discussed above. On the question of goals, very few of the presentations identified the biodiversity conservation goal of their case study. Overcoming the shortcomings of the word ‘biodiversity’ itself is one of the biggest challenges facing biodiversity conservation. The term ‘biodiversity’ officially entered the language after a symposium held by the US National Academy of Science in 1986 (Wilson 1988). Its emphasis in formal definitions since then has been placed on composition (i.e. species) over other aspects of biodiversity (UNEP

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1993; DEST 1996). As a result it has become more a tool of advocacy than science, being used to raise awareness of the fate of endangered species and communities. In its broadest definition the term encompasses everything living, from the scale of genes to landscapes, leaving wide open the interpretation of what contributes to its conservation. It’s likely that a lot of money will continue to be wasted in the name of biodiversity conservation as a result of this imprecision. ‘When I make a word do a lot of work,’ said Humpty Dumpty, ‘I always pay it extra’ (Carroll 1865). A more workable definition has been provided by Noss (1990), who suggests that we view the concept of biodiversity from the perspectives of composition, structure and function. In other words: what makes it up, how it is arranged and what it does. This is a useful way of forcing us to articulate just what we are seeking to conserve, and results in a cascading series of questions that helps to clarify underlying motivations as well as goals. Is our interest in composition, i.e. the species or communities characteristic of a place? And if so, do we distinguish between endemic and naturalised, and what point in history are we using as our benchmark? Or is our interest in the characteristic structure of an ecosystem or region, the mosaic of vegetation types or habitat structure characteristic of those vegetation types? And if so, are we concerned about the provenance of its composition, where it came from and when? Or is our interest in the most tangible and pragmatic thing of all – maintenance of ecosystem functions that support life, such as water and nutrient cycling? Commonly, interest in biodiversity conservation is based on some combination of composition, structure and function. Whatever the combination, these arguments tend to fall either side of a line that attempts to distinguish between the intrinsic value (the value of non-human life in and of itself) and the resource value of non-human life (its value as a resource for humans). Strongly compositional arguments are frequently based on concern for species and their right to exist. While these are often considered to be arguments based on intrinsic value, they can also be seen to be based simply on the human desire to know that particular species exist, their existence representing a psychological, aesthetic or spiritual resource for humans. Preservationist arguments can also be based on a combination of composition and structure that generates a familiarity or sense of place to which people feel a strong personal connection (see Chapters 1 and 9). This can also be seen as a resource value, the resource being that it makes us feel good. At the pragmatic end of the spectrum, an argument can be based on the more tangible resource values of providing ecosystem services, with or without emphasis on exactly which species or communities are doing what, or how they are arranged. The role of values in biodiversity conservation takes the debate outside the territory of science and into the territory of moral philosophy (Brennan 2002, 2004; Pannell 2004) where there are no right answers, many worldviews and an even greater need for clarity of purpose. Until we can be specific about what it is we are trying to achieve, we can’t even attempt to answer questions about costs and trade-offs. Without information about costs and trade-offs we can’t make informed decisions about where scarce public resources could most effectively be directed (Possingham 2001; Possingham et al. 2002). The emergence of markets for environmental services is forcing us to broach these questions and adopt a more precise, quantitative and evidence-based approach to conservation. The starting point is being clear about our goals and why we choose them.

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SUMMARY The case studies in this book chart distinct stages in the adoption of conservation by primary industries. They provide compelling personal accounts of the power of reimagining our relationship with the Australian landscape, products of the awareness-raising and educative role of the Landcare movement. They also describe the shift, since the 1990s, from a reliance on awareness and inspiration to demands for evidence and accountability through the introduction of markets and auctions. Two particular messages are the need for greater clarity in our conservation goals and the valuable lessons that science can learn from practice. Clearer goals mean that outcomes can be measured and costs and benefits justified. Without these, continued public support for community conservation is at risk. Lessons from practice are invaluable to adaptive management as the everyday environment of producers is the integrated and holistic world that science still grapples with in the abstract. If we are to close the adaptive management loop of plan, act, monitor and review, we need to be able to move more freely between the known domain of the scientist and the complex domain of the environmental manager. The experience of this conference suggests we need more opportunities for practitioners to share the stage and the challenge with scientists.

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Hacker R (1993). A brief evaluation of time control grazing. Proceedings 8th Annual Conference Grassland Society NSW 8, 82–89. Hutchinson KJ (1993). Grazing systems overview: theory and practice of grazing management for sustaining productive temperate pastures. Proceedings 8th Annual Conference Grassland Society NSW 8, 90–97. Kirkpatrick JB & Bridle KL (2007). People, sheep and nature conservation: the Tasmanian experience. CSIRO Publishing: Melbourne. Lefroy EC & Smith PF (2004). The biodiversity value of farming systems and agricultural landscapes. Pacific Conservation Biology 10(2/3), 80–87. Lefroy EC, Flugge FJ, Avery A & Hume I (2005). Potential of current plant-based options for the management of dryland salinity: a review. Australian Journal of Experimental Agriculture 45, 1357–1367. Lindenmayer D & Burgman M (2005). Practical conservation biology. CSIRO Publishing: Melbourne. Mason WK, Lamb K & Russell B (2003). The Sustainable Grazing Systems program: new solutions for livestock producers. Australian Journal of Experimental Agriculture 43, 663–672. Noss RF (1990). Indicators for monitoring biodiversity: a hierarchical approach. Conservation Biology 4, 355–364. Pannell DJ (2004). Heathens in the chapel? Application of economics to biodiversity. Pacific Conservation Biology 10(2/3), 88–105. Parkes D, Newell G & Cheal D (2003). Assessing the quality of native vegetation: the Habitat Hectares approach. Ecological Management and Restoration 4, S29–38. Possingham HP (2001). The business of biodiversity: applying decision theory principles to nature conservation. Australian Conservation Foundation: Melbourne. Possingham HP, Ryan S, Baxter J & Morton SR (2002). Setting biodiversity priorities. Prime Minister’s Science, Engineering & Innovation Council. Available online at http://www.dest.gov.au/ NR/rdonlyres/DFD08BFB-7443-47D0-985D-56668A81495F/2007/Setting_Biodiversity_Priorities.doc. Accessed 14 January 2008. Ridley A & Pannell DJ (2005). The role of plants and plant-based R&D in managing dryland salinity in Australia. Australian Journal of Experimental Agriculture 45, 1341–1355. Savory A (1988). Holistic resource management. Island Press: Washington DC. Savory A & Butterfield J (1999). Holistic management: a new framework for decision making. Island Press: Washington DC. Snowden D (2002). Complex acts of knowing: paradox and descriptive self-awareness. Journal of Knowledge Management 6(2), 100–111. Stoneham G, Crowe M, Platt S, Chaudhri V, Soligo J & Strappazzon L (2000). Mechanisms for biodiversity conservation on private land. Dept of Primary Industry Victoria: Melbourne. UNEP (1993). Convention on biological diversity. Secretariat of the Convention on Biological Diversity, United Nations Environment Program. Available online at http://www.biodiv.org. Voisin A (1959). Grass productivity. Reprinted 1988. Island Press: Washington DC. Wallace KJ (2007). Classification of ecosystem services: problems and solutions. Biological Conservation 139, 235–246. Walters CJ (1986). Adaptive management of renewable resources. Macmillan: New York.

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Walters CJ & Holling CS (1990). Large-scale experiments and learning by doing. Ecology 71, 2060–2068. Wilson EO (1988). Biodiversity. National Academy Press: Washington DC. Yeomans PA (1958). The Challenge of Landscape. Keyline: Sydney. Yeomans PA (1964). Water for Every Farm. Murray: Sydney.

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