Should I feed birds?
Boss with a face wound |
I have a bit to say on this, so sit back and get comfy. This could take a while. Please read thru till the end. I will try be as neutral as possible.
I will throw in some photos as we go.
The relationship I have forged with my kookaburra family has
afforded me some great photo opportunities. I have posted many of these on a
bird forum. The results were surprising to say the least. It has polarised the
forum.
The prize - end joint of chicken wing |
Most liked them, but there were a fair few people who say what I do is detrimental to the bird’s welfare. (A lot of these are bird carers)
Their main criticism: Humanization, Nutrition, Dependence,
as their main objections.
So, I looked into it. (I didn’t want to kill my Kooka Family)
It turns out very little is known on the effect of feeding
wild birds.
Some facts; about 40% of households in Australia feed
backyard birds. (45 million in the U.S. & up to 75% in the UK – their
Governments actively encourage bird feeding).
It’s surprising, with so much of this going on, there is so
little known.
What can you feed different birds? What not to feed them
& why? Are we killing them with kindness?
I found this study (2011) published by Emeritus Professor
Stanley A Temple. (One of the world’s leading Ornithologists).
While it didn’t answer a lot of my questions, it did dispel
a lot of the hype & myth surrounding “wild bird feeding”
Those that object to my feeding tell me it’s not relevant as it’s from the
northern hemisphere. (Australian report coming further down)
I have bought a GoPro camera, which allows me to take the
unusual photos that you have been enjoying on here.
As its remote controlled, I thought I would try getting
different views of some of the birds I see. (60+ species so far), from the
grass level. (Great idea yeah)
The food I used was;
Raw beef strips, dug into holes in the grass (worms with
their heads sticking out), rice, potato peels & pumpkin peels (cut &
soaked in water to soften up) pumpkin pulp & cooked pumpkin skin, end of
corn cob, slices of apple, banana pieces & banana skin. (Not too hard to see
what I had for dinner last night).I spy |
with my little eye |
something beginning with "W" |
The food I used was;
The plan, set up camera, lay 1 bowl with veggies & 1
bowl with fruit, scatter rice on grass, bury meat – and see who turns up.
These are who turned up; My Kookas of course, Noisy Miners, Peewees, Mallard & a Bush Turkey.
This I posted on the bird forum.
My critics advised that feeding bowls of rice
& potato to birds had no nutritional value at all.
One even sent me a chart of what nutrients that were in bugs.
Protein, carbs, fats, calcium, iron.
BTW - Rice & potato skins have protein, carbs, fats,
calcium & iron + Potassium – so I’m not sure of the zero nutritional value
bit.
She then sent me the following link. I can only think she hadn’t read it thru, given her stance.
I now had my Australian report & from the CSIRO. It’s the most concise report I have read & takes on this subject from so many aspects. Thanks Belinda.
She then sent me the following link. I can only think she hadn’t read it thru, given her stance.
I now had my Australian report & from the CSIRO. It’s the most concise report I have read & takes on this subject from so many aspects. Thanks Belinda.
Here is a snippet from that summery; (the whole report is at the end of this blog)
The phenomenon of wild
bird-feeding in Australia is both immensely popular and its ecological effect
poorly understood. Given the scale of the practice, its ecological influence
may be significant on many levels: populations, nutrition, disease,
interspecific competition and others. Similarly, the implications for the
people involved may be considerable, potentially promoting general
environmental awareness, or even more profound values of connectedness with
nature (Miller and Hobbs 2002; Louv 2005). These influences and
implications may occur, but at present, we simply cannot say much with
certainty if this is so. Nonetheless, what is clear from the few studies so far
completed is that people feeding birds are passionately engaged and care deeply
about the welfare of ‘their’ birds. In any pursuit, such devotion typically
fosters a desire for further information and guidance. Currently, people
feeding bird in Australia know that there is no point in seeking such advice;
none exists locally and almost all information from other countries simply does
not apply here.
Now back to my kookaburras. (This part isn’t objective)
Boss has turned up with a wound to his cheek. I have taken
some photos and video to send to my local vet. Should he need treatment, I’m in
a unique position to administer antibiotics (thru food), or capture if
required. This action couldn’t occur without my interaction with this family.
So here is the full CSIRO Report
Birds
and people
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Although there is no
denying the scale and importance of bird-watching, there is another facet of
the relationship between humans and birds that is even more common and
certainly more intimate: the virtually universal practice of feeding wild
birds. Although attracting birds by the provision of food is probably the most
widespread and popular form of human–wildlife interaction throughout the world
(Fuller et al. 2008; Robb et al. 2008)
remarkably little is known about the practice (Jones and Reynolds 2008). This
lack of reliable knowledge is becoming increasingly important. In Australia,
concerns about the implications and effects of feeding have resulted in a
widely acknowledged but largely unofficial opposition to the practice. This
contrasts with the United States of America (USA) and United Kingdom (UK) where
most bird and conservation organisations actively promote the practice as an
important conservation activity (Toms 2003; Cornell
Lab of Ornithology, Citizen science toolkit, see http://www.birds.cornell.edu/citscitoolkit/toolkit, accessed
12 January 2011). Both the promotion and opposition to feeding are, however,
based on alarmingly little evidence and also tend to ignore the considerable
complexity of this multidimensional phenomenon (Fuller et al. 2008).
The longer history and the
far more overt practice of feeding in the northern hemisphere seems to relate
to its origins as a humane response to the plight of hungry birds during winter
(Weidensaul 2007).
Well-publicised ‘hard winters’ in the early 20th century, during which
thousands of birds were found frozen in city streets, seem to have given
impetus to mass ‘outreach to the birds’ movements in the USA (Goodwin 1978). From
these important emotional origins has developed a massive industry, with poorly
understood – but likely profound – influences over large areas (Robb et al. 2008). In the
UK, for example, the survival of several species appears to be sustained at
least in part by the provision of seed (Sterry and Toms 2008). The general
approval of the practice in the northern hemisphere has also resulted in clear
and practical advice for feeders. An abundance of sources provide detailed
information on how and what to feed and guidelines on best practice (e.g. Burton and Holden 2003;
National Bird-Feeding Society, ‘Feeding for the best’, see http://www.birdfeeding.org/,
accessed 2 February 2011; see Table 1). In
contrast, those feeding birds in Australia, though many and widespread (see
WildWatch, at http://abc.net.au/tv/wildwatch,
accessed 1 February 2011) have largely operated as free agents (Howard 2006), many
aware of the apparent stigma of their hobby but passionately committed to
‘their’ birds anyway (Jones and Howard 2006).
Accepting such desire and motivation on the part of the people so engaged is an
important component in attempts to understand the effect and implications of
this important and intimate relationship (Ishigame and Baxter 2007; also
‘Birds and People: A Global Celebration of Birds in Human Culture’, see http://www.birdsandpeople.org,
accessed 1 April 2011). It is time to acknowledge that feeding of wild birds is
an important activity for large numbers of people; that the practice may be a
significant form of connecting with nature; and that, frankly, it is here to
stay. Equally, we need to recognise that the ecological and conservation
dimensions of the phenomena are vastly different to those of the northern
hemisphere and that the ecological implications and effects are likely to be
very different. For all these reasons, it is time to take feeding seriously.
Wild-bird
feeding: here and there
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In Australia, many would
view the scale of this phenomenon with astonishment and possibly alarm (Seipen and Stanley 1996; Petrie et al. 2003).
Certainly, a clear anti-feeding sentiment among wildlife and conservation
agencies and birding organisations is strongly evident and widely acknowledged
in Australia (Howard and Jones 2004; Ishigame and Baxter 2007; Jones 2008).
Although the principal focus of this opposition has been on feeding in reserves
and parks (Orams 2002),
several agencies have seriously contemplated banning even domestic feeding (D.
Jones, unpubl. data). Just why this widespread opposition has developed here
remains a minor mystery (Howard 2006) but
would repay a careful historical investigation.
In reality, and despite
considerable discouragement and censure, participation rates in Australia are
virtually identical to those of the rest of the world: a series of studies have
consistently found levels between 38 and 57% from all corners of the country (Rollinson et al. 2003; Howard and Jones 2004; Ishigame and Baxter 2007). An
appreciation of the popularity – and durability – of this interaction in
Australia has recently resulted in preliminary discussions on guidelines for
feeding (Plant 2008), as
well as on alternatives such as attracting birds through garden design (Parsons 2008).
However, significant concerns remain.
Should
we be worried?
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A sober assessment of the
available evidence for each of these points – both negative and positive –
quickly stalls, however, because there is a lack of reliable empirical evidence
(Jones and Reynolds 2008).
Although there are endless anecdotes relating to a particular issue, many of
the published studies are often too localised to allow useful extrapolation.
Important exceptions to such generalisations are studies of several avian
diseases whose spread has been linked to use of feeders. The best known of
these was the conjunctivitis epidemic among American House Finches (Carpodacus
mexicanus) in the eastern USA, a phenomenon initially reported among birds
visiting feeders (Dhondt et al. 2001). The
subsequent monitoring of the spread of the disease was achieved by recruiting
large numbers of feeder operators in one of the most effective examples of
large-scale ‘citizen science’ (Hochachka and Dhondt 2000). This
army of motivated participants enabled researchers to follow the outbreak
through its peak c. 2004 (when ~15% of the eastern population of House
Finches were infected) and the later ‘plateau’ phase (Cornell Lab of
Ornithology, Project FeederWatch, see http://www.birds.cornell.edu/pfw/AboutBirdsandFeeding/abtbirds_index.html,
accessed 2 October 2010). The House Finch Disease Project was wound up in 2009
with advice that included the statement: ‘Feeding birds may not necessarily
increase the rate of disease spread’ (http://www.birds.cornell.edu/pfw/AboutBirdsandFeeding/abtbirds_index.html), a view
that reflects the acute sensitivity to inferring possible effects of the use of
feeders in the USA (see especially the reaction to a controversial article in
the Wall Street Journal; Sterba 2002; Erickson 2003).
Remarkably similar
characteristics surround the discovery and monitoring of the protozoan disease Trichomoniasis
gallinae in the UK, which was declared an epidemic in 2005 (Robinson et al. 2010). Unlike
the conjunctivitis, Trichomoniasis is fatal for most infected Common
Greenfinch (Chloris chloris) and Common Chaffinch (Fringilla coelebs),
and has resulted in declines of affected populations of 35 and 21%
respectively, between 2007 and 2009 in the UK (Robinson et al. 2010). Again,
the role of feeders appeared to be somewhat equivocal. Although there is no
doubt that infections are more likely owing to the cramming of birds at feeding
stations, the highly gregarious social behaviour of the two main species
suggested that any infection was likely to spread quickly. Less-social British
finches, though also susceptible, have been far less affected (Robinson et al. 2010). Trichomoniasis
has often been detected in wild populations of many species, but outbreaks
appear to have short durations (Real et al. 2000).
Nonetheless, one such event in California in 2006 among native Band-tailed
Pigeons (Patagioenas fasciata) and Mourning Doves (Zenaida macroura)
led to a rare call for a temporary cessation of feeding by wildlife authorities
(California Department of Fish
and Game 2006). Thankfully to date, no similar feeder-related
epidemics have occurred in Australia although there is considerable potential
for such a phenomenon. Certainly the sporadic detection of Psttacine Beak and
Feather Disease among cockatoos and lorikeets, as well as clostridia, have
frequently provided cause for concern; such outbreaks have been cited as
reasons for the banning of feeding (NPWS 2003).
Despite the rather dramatic examples mentioned above, the rarity of such events
emphasises that there is little evidence for a clear role for use of feeders in
transmission of disease.
A significant feature of bird feeding as practiced in Australia is the
heavy provision of meat as the main food (Rollinson et
al. 2003). With larger, predatory birds, such as Australian Magpies (Cracticus
tibicen), butcherbirds (Cracticus spp.) and Pied Currawongs (Strepera
graculina) being among the most frequent – and favoured – visitors to
feeding stations (Rollinson et
al. 2003; Ishigame
and Baxter 2007), a wide variety of meats, such as mince, sausage and organs, are used
to attract these species. This raises several issues: risk of disease
associated with communal feeding, the potential for bacterial spread owing to
feeding on raw meats, as well as the potential nutritional effect of heavy use
of fatty processed foods. Unfortunately, we know very little about any of these
issues, although one experimental study of captive Magpies found consistently
raised cholesterol levels in birds eating a diet of processed sausage meat (Ishigame et
al. 2006).
Feeding
really does change things
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Beyond the possible
influences on the breeding outcomes for the species being fed, it is also
important to consider which species are the main beneficiaries of the
provisions. In most cases, this is all too self-evident: those bold enough to
access the feeders. Although there are always local exceptions, most birds
utilising these sources of food are those already common (Cannon et al. 2005; Parsons et al. 2006). In
urban areas such species are, by necessity, those that have become habituated
to the presence and activities of people (Chace and Walsh 2006);
species unable to tolerate or accommodate human-dominated environments tend to
have disappeared long ago (Chamberlain et al. 2005).
Indeed, Fuller et al. (2008) has
recently demonstrated that feeding of garden birds in the UK greatly enhances
the abundance of local feeder-using species but did not influence species
richness: more birds but not more species.
It is also important to take a broader perspective, beyond the feeding
table. Anthropogenic influences are also implicated in the dramatic increases
in a range of species that are rarely intentionally fed. Corvid populations,
for example, are continuing to expand throughout the world, almost certainly
owing to the relative easy of access to a variety of anthropogenic foods,
including an abundance of discarded waste and road-kill (Marzluff
and Angell 2007). In Australia, virtually every large city has experienced massive
increases in the number of Rainbow Lorikeets (Trichoglossus haematodus),
a trend attributed to the popularity of nectar-bearing shrubs and trees being
planted in suburban gardens (White et
al. 2005). The same food source appears to be enhancing the well-known effects
of Noisy Miners (Manorina melanocephala). Similar examples abound, all
with a familiar lesson: even good intentions can have unexpected influences
(see Catterall
2004). Could feeding also be
implicated in enhancing populations of such species to the detriment of others?
The decline in avian biodiversity is of profound concern to most of us,
and the possibility that a human activity as common as feeding may be
implicated is alarming. This seemingly logical connection, however obvious and
tempting to make, is, however, far from linear. The dramatic changes in
abundances among urban species have been well documented (e.g. Low 2002; Catterall
2004) although the influences
at play are proving to be difficult to untangle (Major et al. 2001). Perhaps the most pertinent such example of
unexpected findings concerns the issue of dependency, the number one concern of
both proponents and opponents alike (Howard and
Jones 2004):
with so much human-provided food so easily available, it is argued that many
birds must surely become reliant on this food, perhaps even losing their
natural foraging skills. Thus, the widely publicised ‘Golden Rule’ of feeding:
once you start, don’t stop (e.g. Toms 2003). However, several recent studies looking
specifically at this issue have found that a variety of species (including
suburban Australian Magpies, British tits and Scrub Jays (Aphelocoma coerulescens) (Cowie and
Hinsley 1988; Fleischer et al. 2003; O’Leary
and Jones 2006)), all with easy access to anthropogenic foods, used only small
proportions of this food, but especially so when feeding their chicks. Most
impressive of all, a population of North American Black-capped Chickadees (Poecile atricapillus) studied over
several harsh winters in Maine showed no dependency on feeders and survived
even when the feeders were suddenly withdrawn (Brittingham
and Temple 1992).
One of the generalisations that can be drawn from such studies is that
many species appear to be far more discerning than expected in terms of the
types and amounts of foods used (Chapman
and Jones 2009). On the other hand, many of the foods exploited by urban birds are
designed to be easily digestible; a few fatty chips or slices of salami may
have a disproportionate dietary effect than a far greater amount of natural
foods (Ottoni et al. 2009). In a Tasmanian study, Silver Gulls (Chroicocephalus novaehollandiae)
consuming a large proportion of human foods in their diet tended to be heavier
on average than those with a mainly natural diet (Auman et al. 2008). Similar findings have been associated with
specific sites where supplementary foods have been used to attract certain
species for easy viewing (Orams 2002). Interestingly, it is becoming clear that such
sites are often monopolised by a small number of behaviourally dominant
individuals, who obtain a disproportionate amount of the food being offered (Chapman
and Jones 2010, in press). Thus, any adverse effects attributable to the
foods may be being concentrated in a few animals, potentially limiting the
risks to the local population.
Enhancing
the connection
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The second study (Schrieber 2010),
recently completed in the UK, discerned remarkably similar motivations to those
of the Australia respondents of Howard and Jones (2004), despite
the differing conditions and species. Although the emotional attachment was
obvious, UK feeders expressed strong feeling of ‘protection’ and ‘attachment’;
people were committed to providing assistance and care for ‘their’ birds.
Bird feeding is also worthy
of a far greater level of attention for the fundamental reason that it is one
of the principal forms of human–wildlife interaction in the contemporary world.
For increasing numbers of urban dwellers, the main venue of any interaction
with wild animals will be with the birds they encounter within the suburban environments
in which they live (Miller and Hobbs 2002). For
many, a simple visitation by a lorikeet or Magpie may represent a vital link
with the natural world; ‘commonness’ need not be dismissed as simply ‘common’ (Gaston and Fuller 2008). For
others, ‘their’ backyard birds represent a critical indication of how nature is
coping with the human onslaught. And they are right: having long abandoned the
city as a lost cause, ecologists are now discovering urban areas as rich,
diverse and dynamic ecosystems with the study of urban environments rapidly
becoming prominent in the vibrant emerging field of urban ecology (Hostetler 1999; McDonnell et al. 2009).
One of the key incentives
for these attempts to understand the urban ecosystem is the recognition that
this is the environment in which increasing numbers of us actually live (Miller and Hobbs 2002).
Exploring the implications of human actions for other species is especially
vital when the effects may be occurring literally in our own backyard.
Conducting research in cities and suburbs is not, however, for the
faint-hearted. As well as the innumerable logistical challenges of working in a
human-dominated landscape, the presence of all those often opinionated, frequently
motivated, people can be bewildering. But it is also an immense opportunity. By
carefully recruiting the interest and time of huge numbers of urban residents
in reporting the birds in local areas, programs such as Project FeederWatch
in the USA (http://www.birds.cornell.edu/pfw/AboutBirdsandFeeding/abtbirds_index.html) and Garden
BirdWatch in the UK (see http://www.bto.org,
accessed 13 January 2011) have provided information of inestimable importance (Sterry and Toms 2008). Birds
Australia’s own version, Birds in Backyards, is currently underway (see http://birdsinbackyards.net,
accessed 23 January 2011) and the Canberra Ornithologists Group’s Garden
Bird Survey recently completed 25 years of reporting (Canberra Ornithologists Group
2011). The scale, detail and coverage of this largely volunteer labour-force
could never be replicated by even the most organised research group (Silvertown 2009). The
many bird atlassing projects, almost all conducted entirely by armies of
volunteers, are excellent examples of what can be achieved by ‘citizen
scientists’ (Dunn and Weston 2008). These
unpaid (and sometimes, paying) devotees are dramatically improving the
precision of our understanding of processes such as changing distributions and
the timing of migrations (see e.g. Chamberlain et al. 2005). And
although there are legitimate concerns about the quality of the data collected
(Cohn 2008), there
are equally good examples of how such limitations can be addressed (http://www.birds.cornell.edu/citscitoolkit/toolkit) and how
the volunteers can be recruited and retained (Wolcott et al. 2008).
An appreciation of the
large numbers of people actively engaged in wild-bird feeding – and by people
intrinsically motivated (Howard and Jones 2004) –
suggests that those feeding birds could represent a valuable pool of potential
citizen scientists, as already recognised elsewhere (e.g. see Dhondt et al. 2001; Harrison et al. 2010). Indeed,
by their involvement in this pastime, some participants, at least, appear to
conform to the attributes necessary to ensure high levels of reliable data
collection (see Silvertown 2009; Mulder et al. 2010):
commitment, previous experience in long-term projects, and a strong degree of
personal interest in the study subjects. If the issues discussed in this
article are as important as proposed, the time is right to begin a partnership
with this unusually well suited group of co-workers.
It’s
time
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