One problem I did want to get to is the seeming contradiction of wildlife preservationism and its connections to tourism and business during the early twentieth century. Nicole brought this issue up per her blogpost and raised the question of how wildlife preservation could maintain its moral and ethical goals while also being profit-driven. We're going to talk more about this in the coming weeks, but it might be worth exploring now. Thoughts?
Additionally, Brian also raised the interesting issue of the desensitized nature to the killing of wildlife during the late nineteenth century. We talked a bit about this in class, but I'd like to hear more of your thoughts--how do individual perpetrators of bison destruction not feel remorse or some type of emotional impulse that troubles them? When and why do you think this begins to change?
I was wondering the same thing, along the lines of Nicole’s question of the morality of preservationism when it is so clearly being driven by economic incentives. I think there are a couple different ways to look at it. On the one hand, you have to wonder how genuine people’s efforts to preserve the bison were because there was so much to gain financially from it. Did they really want to preserve the bison, or was this “preservation” just a way to make money? On the other hand, interest in preserving the bison could have been genuine, and the economic benefits were just an added bonus, kind of similar to how the destruction of the bison was economically advantageous, and as an added bonus (in the minds of Euroamericans) it also helped destroy the Indians. I am inclined to think that the first scenario was largely the case in America, especially because there was an almost constant emphasis on progress and economic advancement. On pages 176-177 Isenberg talks about the different ways ranchers tried to profit from having bison, like exotic animal commerce, using bison hair for wool, and selling the right to hunt them to wealthy sport hunters. Bison reserves were also located conveniently close to railroad lines to profit from tourism, but they weren’t necessarily in the most ideal habitat for the bison. I think that the location of bison reserves and selling the right to hunt bison specifically point to the fact that most preservationists were really only interested in the economic benefits of preserving the bison.
ReplyDeleteIn regards to the desensitization of killing wildlife, I think the phrase in itself offers an answer to the question of guilt. I think that individuals destroying the bison didn’t feel remorse because it was viewed as a wild animal, and it lacked the same benefit to society that a domesticated animal such as a cow had. This may have begun to change when the spectacles of slaughtered bison started disturbing people, and thus the beauty of the American West.
I agree with Leah's comment that when preservationists’ main interest in the preservation of wildlife is for their profit and the needs of the wild animal in a preserve are not met. The ethics of preservationists’ actions can be questioned or in Isenberg’s book, even considered immoral.
ReplyDeleteI think individuals are not going to feel remorse for killing an animal that is thought to be of no benefit to keep alive. As more settlers moved west into the Great Plains where water and forage was limited, they were thinking of their own preservation as well as their livestock over the preservation of a large animal like the bison that to most had no beneficial factors worth preserving. As mentioned in Isenberg’s book, the preservation of bison begins but not necessarily for the benefit of the bison as much as for the benefit of tourism or gaming preserves. Later societies were formed to help in the preservation of the bison that was mainly publicly owned. Scientists’ research on the genes of bison began to be beneficial in their preservation. Finally ownership of bison changed from public to private and bison meat was available in markets and considered a healthier choice than beef. This aspect of raising bison to slaughter ofr market was considered no different than raising cattle.
I think both Leah and Karita raise excellent points.
ReplyDeleteInterestingly, I think if you look at the rhetoric and private writings of many of the leaders of the American Bison Society for instance, you pick up an ambivalence regarding the marketplace. On the one hand, men like Roosevelt and Hornaday blame the marketplace and "market hunters" for destroying the bison, yet they also recognize the practicalities of profit--wildlife preservation has to have some economic incentive to get the broader public to emotionally and financially invest in it.
I also do believe that in many ways, the Eastern preservationists were driven by their own personal love for the animal (i.e. emotional impulses). Still, these men had spent years attacking such impulses as feminine "sentimentalism" and thus providing the cold, calculating logic of profit could mask a very real love for the bison.
I think it is funny that in order to save wildlife from human destruction we have to sell it to people who want to keep it whole. We send tourists to remote areas for them to explore the wonders the world has to offer, but in doing so we are taking away what it means to be natural. Eco-tourism, while advocating a good cause, (keeping nature intact) is a self-destructive policy. As more and more tourist go, the more environmental impacts there are.
ReplyDeleteMaya: So you find eco-tourism to be an inherently counterintuitive process? All valid criticisms. Could you think of some alternatives to eco-tourist models? (We're also going to be discussing this in more detail later in the class)
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