| There was a time not so very long
ago when American conservationists and biologists looked north
across the 49th parallel with hope. They saw a vast wilderness
full of grizzly bears they thought would always be able to augment
flagging populations of Ursus arctos in the lower 48 states.
Those days are long gone. Now, as Americans contemplate
the delisting of the Yellowstone grizzly, many Canadian conservationists
and biologists are looking south to figure out how to reverse
the continuing decline of grizzly bears and the habitat they
depend on in the Canadian West.
Nowhere is this truer than Alberta, where the
political and legislative climate is so hostile, and grizzly
bear habitat so degraded, that the future of the grizzly is
as uncertain as it is anywhere on the continent.
From the perspective of the grizzly bear, the
history of the Canadian West is similar to that of its southern
neighbor. Grizzly bears once roamed as far east as the Manitoba-Ontario
border, but as trappers and fur traders moved west in search
of beaver, grizzly bears, buffalo and most other mammals became
increasingly scarce.
By the time settlers started flooding the prairies
in the late 19th century, grizzlies were all but gone from the
Great Plains, relegated instead to the boreal forests and tundra
of the North and to the foothills and mountains of southern
Canada.
Today, most grizzly bear "populations"
on the Canadian side of the border are considered threatened
or nearly so. Only two, British Columbia’s Flathead
and South Purcell grizzly bear "population units" contain
"viable" populations, and only the Flathead provides
the potential for meaningful connectivity with a recovering,
though not recovered, population in the U.S.'s Northern Continental
Divide Ecosystem.
In Alberta, the provincial government's own Endangered
Species Conservation Committee recommended that the Alberta
grizzly be listed as a threatened species, but the government
has refused to adopt the recommendation and has done little
to reverse the trends threatening grizzly bears everywhere they
still exist.
"The Yellowstone
recovery
It may come as a surprise that Alberta harbors
arguably the most threatened population of grizzly bears in
Canada, if not North America. This situation has less to do
with ecology or biology and everything to do with politics.
South of the border, grizzly bears are protected
by relatively strong legislation (the Endangered Species Act)
and a science-based and well-funded recovery plan. While not
perfect, these measures, kept on track by a reasonably robust
environmental movement, seem able to ensure grizzly bears,
perhaps even the small, isolated populations that hang on
in places
like the Selkirk, Cabinet-Yaak and Cascade mountains, will
receive the attention, and habitat, they require to recover.
The success of the recovering Yellowstone population,
which has doubled over the last 30 years, is a good example
of what is required to recover declining grizzly bear populations.
Biologists have long recognized that access management
is the key. Keeping road densities low and ensuring enough secure
core habitat exists across the recovery zone are key components
of recovering grizzly bears, and have worked well in the Greater
Yellowstone Ecosystem.
"The Yellowstone recovery plan is still the
high bar," said grizzly bear biologist and Banff National
Park warden Mike Gibeau. "And we’re nowhere near
that in Alberta."
There are no reliable estimates for the Alberta
population. The process used by the government to estimate
population
size and set hunting quotas between 1988 and 2002, one that
suggested the population had grown by almost 50 per cent over
the last 15 years, was determined by a government analysis
to have used "questionable practices" that "are
not scientifically defensible," leading to predictions
that are "not biologically possible."
Expert opinion suggests there are between 500
and 700 of some of the slowest-reproducing grizzly bears found
anywhere in North America. They survive in approximately 260,000
kilometers of western Alberta, though the amount of habitat
"occupied" by females with cubs is likely much smaller
than that.
This so-called recovery zone is so riddled with
roads and cutblocks it is unlikely that any significant patch
of grizzly bear range (outside of the national parks) would
meet even the weakest standards used in the United States for
road density and core secure area.
The deplorable state of grizzly bear habitat in
Alberta wouldn't be so alarming if the government was committed
to do what is needed to recover grizzly bears in the province.
But it is not.
After 15 years, virtually none of Alberta's 1990
Grizzly Bear Management Plan has been implemented. When the
Alberta Endangered Species Conservation Committee recommended
that the grizzly bear be listed as a threatened species in 2002,
the Alberta government decided, for the first time ever, to
ignore the recommendation, choosing instead to continue the
hunt north of Calgary, although it did decrease the number of
tags available.
In an absurd twist reminiscent of a Franz Kafka
novel, the government did convene a team in 2003 to develop
a recovery plan for a species that is still being hunted for
sport. Two years later, the multi-stakeholder recovery team,
dominated by industry hacks and pro-industry government bureaucrats,
submitted a draft plan to the Alberta government.
Although the plan contains some important ideas
and strategies, it is extremely weak, based not on science
but
on the political manipulation of science.
(There is not enough
room here to include a detailed critique of the recovery plan.
For more information, see www.grizzlybearalliance.org.)
Even if the draft recovery plan is implemented as rigorously
as possible, it will do little to slow the continued decline
of grizzly bears in Alberta.
If Alberta is to begin the long,
slow road to recovering its grizzly bear population, it will
need to develop,
fund and implement a recovery plan that is similar in scope
and detail to the Yellowstone recovery plan that has proven
so successful to date.
Inevitably, this will require Albertans to restrain
their activities in grizzly bear habitat and to repair decades
of damage that has been ignored for too long.
But in the long
term, the investment will have been worth it, for as Andy
Russell
wrote more than 40 years ago, grizzly bears can teach us something
of what it means to live with nature, which is something we
will be forced to learn, whether we like it or not.
Jeff Gailus is a writer and conservationist
living in Calgary, Alberta. He is currently working on a book
about the history and future of Canada’s Great Plains
grizzly bear.
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