Tuesday, January 6, 2009

2009 Update

I am currently on retreat, surrounded by forest and wetland, at the end of a long gravel road. My office is in the turret (see photo), providing an excellent view of forests, fields, and beaver ponds. Coyotes and owls call at night. During this period of retreat, I will not be updating this blog, but will regularly update my main web site www.drpaulkeddy.com.




Looking for something particular?


For general news, go here.

For my new book on Louisiana natural history, go here.

For my new text book on plant ecology, go here.

For two talks (plant diversity, wetland restoration), go here.
(Feel welcome to download the talks for use in classes.)

For scientific papers, go here.

To arrange a visit or lecture, contact me using drpaulkeddy at gmail.


Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Restoration of Ponderosa Pine Ecosystems



This talk, given to the Ecological Restoration Institute in the School of Forestry at Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, explores how principles from wetlands can guide the restoration of arid forests. To view the talk, simply load this site into your browser www.for.nau.edu/cms/content/view/676/927 and find Keddy in the spring 2007 seminar list. You will need Adobe Flash.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Enlightened Science






Gandhi once observed that politicians were so preoccupied with inventing the perfect society, they had neglected the importance of individuals themselves practicing good conduct. He was of the opinion, then, that social engineering and legal systems were no substitute for enlightened behavior by individual humans. Yet within our scientific community there seems to be an unswerving faith that the self-correcting nature of science transcends the need to concern ourselves with ethical matters such as our motivation and our behavior.


The science fiction writer, Isaac Asimov, had a great deal to say about the motivation and behavior of scientists. In one of his classic tales of time travel, the narrator has to ultimately choose whether or not to allow the existence of the scientific class that produced time travel in the first place. He could, through his access to the past, select a human history where the lords of time travel themselves do not occur. As he considers the pros and cons, he reflects upon the neurotic and obsessive behavior of the scientific ruling class, their petty hatreds, and their lack of love for humanity. He concludes that the more the masters of time travel try to improve the human condition by meddling with past events, the worse the human condition seems to become.


Were Gandhi and Asimov wrong? This is not a trivial question. Today there are more scientists at work than at any time in human history. We (they) are both part of society, yet separated from it. We are therefore not unlike the shamans in tribal societies, or the samurai in feudal Japan. We prize our thoughts, our process of rational inquiry, our publications, and our ability to deliver new technology. Yet, if we look into our own lives, and the lives of colleagues around us, we can see that in spite of our intellectual mastery, we cannot escape being also still mired in the human condition, the state of mind that Thoreau called ‘quiet desperation’. Our mental powers have not enabled us to personally escape the dissatisfaction, impermanence and irritations of human experience. Indeed, the politics of academic life are notorious.


Perhaps Gandhi and Asimov were pointing at the same thing. We may have erred in subtly absorbing a social engineer’s view of science. One of the most cherished elements of the scientific process is that it is self-correcting. That is, we believe, and we teach our students, that the data will ultimately triumph over ignorance, and that however erroneous the beliefs of individual scientists, and however unpalatable their personal conduct, the facts will win in the long run. Assuming for the moment that our belief in self-correction is justified (and one could argue that it might not be so), hidden within this belief is a much darker secondary message. The secondary message is that the motivation and personal conduct of scientists is irrelevant. Consider the consequences of such a belief, first for the people involved, and then for the efficiency of the scientific system.

Consequences for the individual


Faith in the self-correcting tendency of science can easily become twisted into a more pernicious form; since science is self correcting, the logic goes, none of us need even to try to be decent. Part of the fascination of scientific biographies may be the crudity of the motivations that produce the result. One could easily read some biographies and conclude that in order to succeed it is not only acceptable, but even necessary to indulge the base and vulgar parts of the human psyche. Science is after all, self correcting. Why be good, why reflect upon motivation, why help others, why explore ourselves? Why do any of these when the system does not require it? Indeed, if anything, the system seems to reward those who are most unethical among us. It is my impression that this pernicious twist has become increasingly entrenched. By accepting that science will correct error, we have also accepted the belief that individual scientists no longer need to consider the ethical or moral aspects of our lives. From the perspective of the individual, the idea of being immersed in a self correcting system that cares not a white about our motivation and conduct is a particularly degraded view of how the individual relates to society at large. This degradation is apparent at a whole series of levels. It implies that there is not personal benefit to self examination and right action. It implies that harmful actions are indistinguishable from helpful ones. It promotes the very sort of self-indulgence that transmits suffering from one person to another. It is likely to damage the early careers of bright young scientists. It implies that samsara, the endless cycle of human suffering, is to be embraced rather than serving as the starting point for enlightenment.

Consequences for the system


Now consider the effects for the scientific system. If we indulge the worst in human behavior, and trust the system to sort it out in the end, we trap ourselves in a system that is far less productive than it could be. Consider, for example, the enormous amounts of time spent in bitter debates that do not advance the cause science. Consider the pressures to publish large numbers of trivial papers just in increase one’s resume length. Consider the conferences where rational debate is subsumed by self-promotion. Consider the number of research projects motivated more by ambition and cronyism than be calm consideration of scientific and social outcomes. Consider the number of important results that never see the light of day because of politically motivated reviews. Consider the number of poorly thought out papers that are published in major journals desperate for the latest story, and the number of retractions that then have to be published. Consider the number of students who willingly follow the leader in planning their research, falling into habitual patterns of thought and action before they even graduate. Over my career I have received hundreds of bitterly negative anonymous reviews of my work, which indicates to me the amount of anger people are willing to express when they believe themselves to be anonymous, and at a deeper level, the amount of anger and frustration in our discipline. I cannot accept that this kind of system is the only one that is possible, that are more efficient system could arise were the people involved more humane and decent to everyone in the system. A system in which individuals strived not only for narrowly defined scholarly excellence, but to exemplify principles like respect, modesty, and appreciation for different points of view. And a system too, where scholars gave back to their students and communities as a vital part of their academic life. Such as system of enlightened science might be far more efficient. I suspect that many will say it is impossible, which only shows how degraded our view of scholars and scholarship has become.

In short, just because science can self-correct over time, allowing it to passively do so will not necessarily produce the most desirable results for individuals, societies, or the advance of knowledge. Self-correction is, from one point of view, a kind of cynical lowest common denominator. Rather than being a thing of beauty in its own right, it is making the best of a bad situation rather than trying to improve the situation. It is like saying since humans have an immune system, therefore we can infect ourselves with all manner of foreign matter and infective bacteria and pathogenic viruses in the naive belief the immune system will maintain the human physiology. Even if we do not get ill and die, it is unlikely to be a wise type of conduct.

On high speed chain saws


Consider a practical example that illustrates how individual decisions affect system efficiently. An acquaintance of mine had faith that a new high speed chain saw transcended the need to keep the individual teeth on the chain sharp. In the end, he gave up wood cutting in frustration and anger, convinced that he had been cheated in buying that saw. I recally a scene in which he was angily pulling the dull saw back and forth over the logs, treating the powerful chain saw like an old hand saw, while the motor roared and the dull teeth slid harmlessly over the surface of his logs. A spiritual practitioner of science, or any other endeavor, would observe that while a high speed saw has merits, it is an inefficient tool for cutting wood without finely honed individual teeth. And, needless to say, you have to stop the saw to sharpen the teeth. I think this is what Gandhi was trying to tell his politicians. And from the point of view of modern science, it seems that the pressure is on to make the chain move faster and no one dares to take the time to stop the saw and sharpen the teeth, let alone check the air filter.
My neighbor became angry when I offered to sharpen his saw; he was too involved in the intense struggle with the saw and the logs to relax in the shade and take the time to try something that was not only new, but, to him, obviously unproductive. Why stop the saw when you could still be cutting wood? From this perspective, taking the time to sharpen teeth with a file is as much a water of time as siting on a mediation cushion. Like my angry neighbor, it seems that too many among us are insulted by the view that each of us possesses enlightened nature (sometimes translated as Buddha nature) and that we could express this enlightened nature in our life and work. Our rational minds, trained to a fine edge of skepticism, seem affronted by anyone asserting that enlightened behavior is desirable, or relevant, to technological humans. Another part of us may be curious about stopping the saw and filing the teeth. Perhaps we have seen someone working with a sharp chain, and been stuck by the evident power of a well-honed saw and a light touch. Or perhaps we have seen a skilled practitioner of Zen archery, or a flower arrangement by an Ikebana master, and our mind briefly stops. We pause to wonder: what is going on here? It seems that something new is occurring, something that our rational mind cannot exactly grasp nor conveniently discard.


What if we could each, individually, bring such clarity and skill to our practice of science? Where would we turn for advice on right conduct? The enlightened warrior might be one example. In Zen archery, which informs the way of the warrior, the way of the bow, the whistling arrow striking the heart of the target without effort, is regarded not as an end in itself, but as a path, a practice, a way of being. The archer shoots in order to wake up. We need not scheme to strike the center of the target. We need not brag about the result. Indeed, the very desire to strike the target is an obstacle.


What would science be like if it were conducted with the same samurai training? What would science be like if we treated enlightenment with the same respect we treated knowledge? What would science be like if we placed greater emphasis upon the spiritual aspects of personal right conduct, rather than putting our faith in the self-correcting nature of the discipline? What if our work was not an obstacle to a complete life, but a means of deepening and broadening our appreciation of life as a whole? What if we were to rediscover the monastic roots which once infused scientists with simultaneous spiritual and intellectual challenges? What if we put more emphasis on giving to others than winning fame for ourselves? What if the conduct of a scientist, like the conduct of the samurai warrior, the wandering poet, or silent hermit were simply seen as yet another path to enlightenment?

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Acceptance speech: Science and Conservation in Wetlands

Remarks to the Environmental Law Institute upon receipt of the ELI National Wetlands Award for Science Research

Washington, D.C. 9 May 2007




I am deeply honored to accept this award. I deeply appreciate the efforts of the ELI and their collaborating agencies to establish the National Wetlands Awards program. I particularly appreciate the effort of my nominator, Dr. Doug Wilcox, as well as those who supported my nomination.

My love for wetlands, my mother tells me, was already evident when I was only eight. Whenever she asked me where I’d like to go, I would always reply “Rat Creek”, a modest stream on the outskirts of Portage La Prairie, Manitoba. I also vividly recall in high school coming across a pond that bulldozers had just filled in, and being horrified by the fish and turtles choking in the few muddy puddles that remained. I ran home, got a bucket, and spent the rest of the day carrying survivors to a creek. Although my first interests centered on frogs and turtles, I later graduated to plants, realizing that if we get the plant communities right, in most cases the frogs and turtles and birds will return.

During my 30-year career as a scientist, three principles have guided my investigations — (1) utility (will it help conserve biological diversity?), (2) generality (is there potential for broad application to many species, habitats, and regions?) and (3) context (is the work truly a new contribution and does it respect historical insights?) I tell my students that with millions of questions for us to explore, our challenge as scientists is to pick the important ones. Equally, scientists who have gone before us had a lot of wisdom— we need to read their work so that we don’t just go out and repeat it. We need to apply the knowledge we already have wisely instead of reinventing the wheel.

I, alone, have produced more than 100 science research papers. Multiply this by the number of researchers working with wetlands, and you get some idea of the enormous volume of work that is waiting to be read! How can those who manage wetlands be expected to make sense of it all? Increasingly, I am reluctant to write a paper unless it has something new and important to say. I wish others had the same self restraint. Unfortunately the ‘publish or perish’ syndrome, like hurricanes, is increasing in strength and threatening the quality of university science.

To deal with the flood of scientific studies, my response has been to put more emphasis upon synthesis, particularly books — for conservation purposes, three stand out: Wetland Ecology (for which I received the Merit Award from the international Society of Wetland Scientists last year), The World’s Largest Wetlands, and, to be released this month, Plants and Vegetation. For each book, I poured over thousands of research contributions to identify the important studies, and then tried to distill general principles. Wading through hundreds of papers by scholars is every bit as difficult as wading through the mud in a swamp, although it may not have the glamour. In Wetland Ecology, I set out to prepare a tool box to serve future generations of managers. It goes through each factor that contributes to wetland function – water levels, fertility, grazing, for example – and their consequences for wetlands around the world.

A scientist’s responsibility does not stop once such work is done— although too many of my tenured colleagues seem to think it does. Once you have done the science, you often have to beat the drum to make people use it. Professor Eugene Turner has been quoted by ELI on my tendency to follow up on my research— he says Keddy finds ways “to insert himself in appropriate places”. For me, this insertion has included work with organizations including World Wildlife Fund, The Nature Conservancy, Earthjustice, and most recently, the Lake Pontchartrain Basin Foundation. I dread to count the number of meetings I have attended to try and inject good science into coastal planning in Louisiana. But it is necessary.

Whether in such private meetings, or in public, it is the duty of scientists to speak the truth. My university administrators seem to discourage this, thinking that the real role of scientists is to raise money. But tenure exists not so that we can raise money, but to allow us to say what people may not want to hear. It is our duty to speak up, and silence is a dereliction of our professional and moral responsibility.

Some of my closest friends agree with the principle, but fear the consequences. My most trusted Louisiana friend has been relentless in her determination to re-educate me for the world according to Louisiana politics. She always warns me against saying things people don’t want to hear. I have driven her to tears. I guess I’m a slow student.

When this friend heard that I was going to Washington, she reminded me of our sojourn on the Atchafalaya River— an adventure by which she would always remember me. As we neared the river mouth, I became quite excited. Here we were at the only spot where sediment-laden water from the Mississippi River was actually building Louisiana shoreline. Suddenly, to her surprise, I leapt out of the boat to stand on an emerging, table-sized island of mud. That was the only way to fully appreciate the situation. There is true beauty in such a situation.

This state’s natural beauty always seems so much at odds with the ugliness and self-destructive nature of the politics. I’m sure each of you has a story about this problem (and probably not just one)! You may think that Washington is the hotbed of politics, but let me assure you, in Louisiana, politics is served with Tabasco, from our own Avery Island. Oliver Houck, a law professor who has spent many years around Louisiana, has concluded that money and cronyism continue to obstruct common sense solutions to wetland problems.

Let me relay an example … While Cathy and I lived through Hurricane Katrina, a political hack from an Arabian horse association ran FEMA. Remember Michael D. Brown, the crony who let hundreds drown? I was in Louisiana, without power, and the highways blocked, when President Bush told him “you’re doing a heck of a job, Brownie". If you have seen the continuing ruin in New Orleans, you will appreciate the destruction that can be wrought by a single incompetent crony. We can be thankful that Brownie was only running FEMA, and not the EPA! But typically, there are no consequences for such buffoonery. This was criminal incompetence. It would have been fitting to have sentenced Michael D. Brown to dig graves first for the people, and then for the thousands of dogs and cats that drowned, and then he could have been put to work repairing homes in New Orleans. Of course, he’s doing none of these as the good ol’ boys look after each other.

As I have traveled the nation, speaking with scientists and managers, I have been struck by the number of intelligent and dedicated civil servants who labor day in and day out to protect the nation’s environment in general and wetlands in particular. They need our support and protection from the destructive forces of cronyism. They need to be protected from the Michael D. Browns and the good ol’ boys who elevate fools to power.

I can speak of this problem, what we might call the Brownie effect, from direct experience. Consider this paradox. Here I am before you this evening to receive your award in recognition of the national significance of my research and scholarship. Yet, a few months ago, just days before Christmas, I was informed by my university president, who knows next to nothing about wetlands or science, that my inadequate scholarly performance made me unfit to continue as holder of the school’s Schlieder Endowed Chair for Environmental Studies. It seems that while I was out working in the marshes, and writing books, the good ol’ boys had time to hang out at the local bars and golf courses to work their back room magic. Our days in Louisiana, it seems, are numbered.

I have had to fight chronic illness for the past 15 years. Perhaps, as my doctor suggested, it resulted from wading in just too many wetlands— another hazard of the profession. As a result, Wetland Ecology was written in bed, sometimes only a couple of lines in a day. Now, with deep appreciation, I acknowledge my spouse, Cathy, who has served as my nurse, caregiver, travel coordinator, editor, and my office assistant replacement at the university. My accomplishments would have been impossible without her.

I am grateful to those who continue to stand firm as part of the thin front line of wetland science and conservation. I admire everyone in this room who has done their best to protect wetlands. The living beings in those wetlands cannot speak for themselves, and they depend on us. Chronic illness, not to mention the aforementioned events at the university, remind me that each of us is impermanent. We have to work knowing that our time is limited. We each must ensure that we leave behind us healthy wetlands, and the knowledge to care for them. As one inspiring example, I often reflect on Michael Collins. He championed Irish freedom in the full knowledge that any day a British assassin could end his life. His response to this threat was a direct challenge to each of us. If they get me, he said, “Who will take my place? Who will take my place? Who will take my place?”
_________

Friday, April 27, 2007

We can all take action to protect New Orleans from rising sea level ...

Nine personal acts to protect coastal Louisiana

by Dr. Paul Keddy

(from The Ponchatoula Times, 26 April 2007, p. 1, 12)

New Orleans is threatened by both land loss and rising sea levels. Several writers in this newspaper have recently asked, “What can one person do?” There are many options that have not yet been mentioned. Since much of the damage comes from large numbers of individual decisions, some of the damage can be reduced by large numbers of individual decisions. Here are a few further suggestions for action that individuals can contribute.
1. Buy a small hybrid car. Carbon dioxide emissions from cars are an important cause of melting ice caps and rising sea levels, putting coastal cities like New Orleans at risk. The faster we pump and burn oil, the faster the sea level will rise. Buy a small hybrid car. Encourage your neighbors to do the same.
2. Donate money (1). Coastal wetlands and swamp forests help protect the city, yet some are still being lost to real estate developments and irresponsible logging. The Nature Conservancy buys wetlands for permanent protection. Tithe monthly to The Nature Conservancy (www.tnc.org) using direct withdrawal.
3. Donate money (2). Support a group that uses legal action to enforce laws that protect wetlands and deal with climate change. Tithe monthly to the Natural Resources Defense Council (www.nrdc.org) using direct withdrawal.
4. Donate money (3). Support the Lake Pontchartrain Basin Foundation (www.saveourlake.org), which is leading the way on topics including the 12 lines of defense plan for New Orleans.
5. Vote wisely. Vote for candidates who explicitly support protection for wetlands, who promote energy-efficient economies, who support higher vehicle fuel efficiency, who advocate strict enforcement of the Clean Air Act, etc.
6. Protect forests. When forests are bulldozed into piles and burned for new subdivisions (as is happening all along the north shore), more carbon is released into the atmosphere. If you own land, let it stay wild. If you don’t own land, buy some acreage, and let it stay wild.
7. Live simply. Large houses demand large amounts of energy for heating and cooling, and thereby contributing to rising sea level. Buy a small, well-insulated house. Plant a shade tree instead of running an air conditioner. Turn the air conditioner off when you travel. Replace old light bulbs with high efficiency light bulbs.
8. Build up. The continued construction of levees is contributing to the loss of coastal wetlands. When you have a choice, buy a house that does not foster levee construction, and elevate the house to ensure that small amounts of flooding do not put you at risk. This will reduce the need for more and higher levees that damage coastal wetlands.
9. Be willing to pay. It costs money to repair levees, protect coastal swamps, build urban transit systems and educate our students about future options for living wisely along this coast. It is therefore unrealistic to expect lower taxes and lower property assessments. There has been much talk about the Dutch example – they have a solid tax infrastructure that supports their coastal engineering infrastructure.
In short, there is much an individual can do. We do not need to wait for the government to fix all our coastal problems. These nine options require individual responsibility, which historically has been an admirable part of the American character.