Jul 1, 2017 - ars before me hone and bring them into a larger ... As I read Gary's paper, it hit meâI want to be a ... life was both unparalleled and infectious.
The Arising Researcher “If I have seen further, it is by standing on ye shoulders of giants” is a quote that I begin with each semester of General Biology at the University of Wisconsin- Madison. Famously penned in the late 1600s by Isaac Newton to convey an already-known metaphor—that we, contemporaries, realize more not merely by our own ability, but because we are lifted by the intellects and insights that preceded us—it is a useful reminder to young biologists that, at its core, science is a progressive accumulation of knowledge. I am a field ecologist. So, my greatest insights have come from being outdoors, watching organisms interact with one another, and with their environment. Spending time in the wilds of nature also provides me with the opportunity to experience what animals are doing firsthand and have a more complete understanding of the challenges they face. So, while my personal observations and experiences are the raw material, insights of scholars before me hone and bring them into a larger context. During my senior year in college was when my sense of connection was formed as I resolved to start reading one peer-reviewed article a night. These articles were not related to coursework or projects; they were simply what I thought of as an exciting paper on natural history, ecology, or conservation. In the spring of my senior year, before I left for graduate school, I picked up a new issue of the Proceedings of the National Academies of Science (PNAS). Quickly scanning the index of physics, mathematics, and cellular biology, I came upon a promising find: “Golden eagles, feral pigs, and insular carnivores: How exotic species turn native predators into prey” (Roemer et al. 2002). Gary Roemer et al. showed that the introduction of feral pigs to the Channel Islands of California enabled golden eagles to colonize the archipelago and completely restructure an ecological community. It opened my mind to thinking about the influence and
Photo of the author in Costa Rica with a radio-collared three-toed sloth
role of one species on a community at different levels and how fundamental ecological insights into competition and hyper-predation can lead to important conservation practices. In the case of Roemer et al., simply removing exotic pigs could potentially return a system to its historical norm. As I read Gary’s paper, it hit me—I want to be a community ecologist, an applied ecologist—I want to study community interactions and have those insights matter to conservation. I began reading more about island biogeography, exotic species, and how island foxes, themselves, were assisted by humans in their colonization of the Channel Islands. I read about gomphotheres and ecological anachronisms, and how present ecological interactions have been sculpted long ago by the loss and addition of species. This initial paper served as a springboard for me into a world of literature, and my future career. Now, 15 years later, I lead a group of motivated scientists interested in understanding carnivore interactions, exotic species, island biology, community ecology, and historical ecology. Similar to Gary’s paper, our work is rooted on ecological fundamentals, but also has implications for conservation and management. And, hopefully our contributions build, even if just incrementally, to a broader platform of understanding. The Paper Trail
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The Paper Trail
Jonathan N. Pauli Department of Forest and Wildlife Ecology University of Wisconsin-Madison Madison, Wisconsin, USA Literature Cited Roemer, G. W., C. Josh Donlan and F. Courchamp. 2002. Golden eagles, feral pigs, and insular
The Established Researcher Ever since I was “knee-high to a grasshopper” I wanted to be a biologist. Well, not exactly, at first I wanted to be a park ranger, but a supportive sister and outdoorsy dad changed this so that as my love and knowledge of nature matured, I knew I wanted to be a wildlife biologist; Mother Nature’s guidance never wavered in me. However, the road I took was anything but straight. My meander to fulfill my passion has been characterized by serendipitous experiences and filled with caring mentors and brilliant colleagues who readily gave their knowledge and expertise and bestowed upon me a modicum of skill that enabled me to become a wildlife biologist. My journey began at the University of Wisconsin- Parkside where I was taught by some of the most erudite educators. A cross-country motorcycle ride and a short stint at a private zoo later, I was accepted into Humboldt State University where I was s urrounded by like-minded students whose passion for wildlife was both unparalleled and infectious. Similar to when I was at UW, I was again taught and inspired by a fine cadre of professors. During my graduate studies, I landed my first wildlife job as a hack site attendant for a bald eagle reintroduction on Santa Catalina Island, California. While there, I was introduced to the island’s top terrestrial carnivore, the island fox. I fortuitously met my future Ph.D. advisor, Dr. Robert Wayne, from UCLA, while trapping
carnivores: how exotic species turn native predators into prey. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the USA 99:791–796. https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.012422499 © 2017 The Authors. The Bulletin of the Ecological Society of America, published by Wiley Periodicals, Inc., on behalf of the Ecological Society of America. This is an open access article under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License, which permits use, distribution and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.
foxes on San Clemente Island. My Ph.D. initially focused on the autecology of island foxes on San Clemente Island, but funding snafus prevented me from working there, so I regrouped and began studying foxes on Santa Cruz Island, an island with an established population of feral pigs. My research centered on monitoring radio-collared foxes and for the first nine months not a single fox died, but over the next 16 months, their cumulative survival plummeted. The carcasses had telltale signs of raptor predation: De-gloved limbs, tendrilous fibrils of left-over tissue, holes in their pelts and skulls, and the perpetrator infrequently left behind evidence of its presence that alighted on the surrounding grass: feathers. Golden eagles were killing island foxes! At first I thought this was a rare occurrence as golden eagles were historically transient visitors to the islands, but this was not a short-lived phenomenon. One day, I made an observation and linked it to two influential papers (Holt 1977, 1984) that enabled me to put two-and-two together. While driving to my study site, I flushed a golden eagle that had a full crop. I then saw a carcass on a hillside and went to investigate. But I did not find a fox, rather a small piglet. Its entire viscera, heart to entrails, all of its ribs, and vertebrae were consumed. The pelt had talon holes and other signs similar to fox carcasses. It was then that I made the mental leap to apparent competition. Pigs were facilitating the decline in foxes by supporting a recently colonized golden eagle population that had a disproportionate impact on the foxes.
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