Two Sets of Victims: Rethinking Invasions and Responsibility

Jonathan Sutton reflects on the complexities and responsibilities involved in the migration of species.

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Her nose quivered with scents of salt, wood, and wet. Scary at first, the rocking now seemed like the natural rhythm of the world. Her own dark and damp kingdom of sodden grain, trickles of stale beer from dripping kegs. There were others at the start, but no longer, the dwindling crumbs leaving her alone with her own precious cargo.

Suddenly, judders and scrapes. Crunch. Sharp cries from far above, and water, water. Scrambling onto the waves, her tiny legs clawing and beating, the wet blanket of foam pressing out the scents of her uncomfortable home. Crashing wood, and brightness, and rush of movement, tossing, spinning… She found herself on wet grains. Not dust, but sand, and a bright sun, yellow, white, fading to green. Moving cautiously, then quickly, a rush into new scents of grass, growing things. Shivering with wet fur and fear, until a dark space between embracing roots, and safety. When the little ones came, they came slowly, then all at once. A rush of novelty. Cheeping cries of little buzzing bodies. Pressing themselves to her, and she to them. New life, in a new land.


Through all of our long history, we humans have been moving things around. This isn’t something that separates us from other animals: copious species of plants have evolved seeds to hitch free rides on fur or in guts. Over time, the things we were able to move became bigger, and not just seeds but trees and animals began to be carted along with us across the world. With globalisation, the rate of transfer reached a fever pitch, and doesn’t seem to be slowing. The ecological consequences of this change are an important part of the modern human story.

Introductions of species to new places has resulted in a lot of upheaval to ecosystems around the world. Introductions of animals like rats and goats has resulted in the extinction of many species of plants and birds, particularly on islands which lacked any predators or large herbivores. Water hyacinths choke the shores of Lake Victoria, interfering with the livelihoods of local fishers. Grey squirrels in the UK spread devastating disease to their red cousins. Pythons in the Florida Everglades chew their way through local mammals and birds. As a result of this, many countries have taken extreme measures to prevent further introductions, drawing up lists of forbidden taxa and instigating careful checks of goods and people at borders. For species that have already established and caused damage to native biodiversity, wide-ranging and expensive management and eradication programs are pursued. Sometimes these programs use poorly-trained volunteer labour, or are used to justify cruel blood sports.

There has been a great deal of unintended damage to ecosystems caused by human negligence and arrogance. The rat that we met earlier was blissfully ignorant of all of this. She pursued her natural instincts for food and shelter, ending up on a ship, and was then carried in stressful and confusing conditions to a completely alien environment. All she could and wanted to do when she found herself there was to birth and nurture her young. People did this to her, and as a result of their actions, long after she and her pups have died, her descendants will devastate the population of a local seabird, unique to this island. This kind of scenario has played out again and again, but it feels like a mistake to think of one species as an aggressor. All we have here are two sets of victims. Peace between them is not possible (until the world is renewed), but their struggle is not of their own making.

Many volunteers who work to limit the spread of introduced animal species feel guilt about the human causes of the problem. They are often regretful about the individual animals that they cull. But in every case – when pythons are seized, taped up, and stabbed; when squirrels are shot – it’s an animal that bears the guilt of humans.

Problems like this pull us in two directions — we are called to protect individuals, and to protect nature. In many cases, particularly where the problematic species are plants, it seems clear that we should be taking action to try and reverse some of the harms that introduction has caused. But there is often not a clear choice to make. In those cases, we can only pray for guidance and forgiveness.