The early days of the COVID-19 pandemic were filled with images of a supposedly "healing" nature. Crystal-clear canals in Venice, a reported surge in wildlife sightings, and plummeting carbon emissions painted a hopeful picture of the natural world reclaiming its space from human intrusion. However, a new study published in Nature Ecology & Evolution throws cold water on this simplistic narrative. Researchers delved deeper, revealing a more complex and fascinating reality.
An international team of researchers, led by conservation biologist Cole Burton from the University of British Columbia, combed through camera trap data collected at over 5,400 locations across 21 countries. They compared animal activity before and during lockdowns, expecting a clear decrease in human presence and a corresponding rise in wildlife activity. What they found surprised them.
Lockdowns didn't translate to a universal decline in human activity. In many areas, particularly near parks and green spaces, camera traps captured increased human presence. Burton points to Vancouver, where he observed a surge in park use as people sought solace and safe outdoor recreation during the pandemic. This highlights the importance of location-specific data over broad lockdown protocols when studying human-wildlife interactions.
The impact on wildlife activity was equally nuanced. While larger carnivores like wolves and wolverines became less active in areas with increased human presence, large herbivores like deer often displayed the opposite trend. Burton suggests two potential explanations: with fewer predators around due to human activity, herbivores might have felt safer and ventured out more, or perhaps they simply had to travel farther to access resources due to human encroachment.
The study also revealed a stark difference in animal responses based on location. Animals in wilder areas remained wary of humans, retreating as human activity picked up. Conversely, animals in developed areas seemed more accustomed to human presence and didn't necessarily alter their activity levels. This could be due to them adapting to co-exist with humans, perhaps even taking advantage of readily available resources like trash cans. However, Burton cautions that the reasons remain unclear and require further investigation.
Despite the uncertainties, the study offers valuable insights for conservation efforts. The data suggests that nocturnal activity might be a key adaptation for some animals to co-exist with humans. This knowledge can be used by park managers to implement strategic closures or limit human activity during specific times to minimize negative encounters with wildlife. Additionally, focusing on reducing nighttime light and noise pollution in urban areas could create much-needed refuges for nocturnal animals.
"We have to be humble about that as we're trying to manage our own impact," says Burton. The study emphasizes the need for a nuanced approach to conservation, one that considers the unique challenges and opportunities presented by different environments. It's a call to move beyond simplistic narratives and embrace the intricate tapestry of human-wildlife interactions. By acknowledging the complexities and adapting our strategies accordingly, we can create a future where nature and humans can truly thrive alongside each other.