Abstract
Wildlife management, pest control and conservation projects often involve killing nonhuman animals. In the United Kingdom, introduced grey squirrels Sciurus carolinensis are killed in large numbers to protect remnant populations of European red squirrels Sciurus vulgaris. Grey squirrels are also killed outside of red squirrel areas to protect broadleaved trees from squirrel damage, and as part of routine pest control, opportunistically, and sometimes recreationally. In order to investigate the ways in which this killing is conceived and practised in the United Kingdom, we conducted semi-structured interviews with practitioners and undertook participant observation of squirrel management activities, including lethal control. Analysing these field data, we identified important variations in practitioners’ approaches to killing squirrels, and here we outline three ‘modes of killing’ – reparative/sacrificial, stewardship, and categorical – which comprise different primary motivations, moral principles, ultimate aims, and practical methods. We explore both productive alliances and possible tensions between these modes, and propose that clear, explicit consideration of how and why animals are both killed and ‘made killable’ should be a key component of any wildlife management initiative that involves lethal control.
Keywords
Introduction
There’s more than one way to kill a squirrel. In the United Kingdom (UK), people bring about the deaths of thousands of grey squirrels Sciurus carolinensis every year: in houses, gardens, barns and woodlands; on public and private land; and with guns, traps, weighted priests, and water. Killing is an occasional pot-shot from the window, or a full-time occupation; it is distressingly difficult and/or a matter of routine.
The killing of nonhuman animals (hereafter ‘animals’) is ubiquitous in human societies (The Animal Studies Group, 2006), and ‘fundamental to the creation of the social order between sets of creatures’ (Marvin, 2006: 20). Nevertheless, despite an abundance of theoretical and philosophical discussions of the ethics of killing, comparatively little empirical social scientific research has examined how nonhuman killing is practised and performed. Exceptions include work in the ‘domestic killing’ spaces of slaughterhouses, research laboratories and animal shelters, where people who routinely kill animals face a range of psychological and emotional challenges (Dillard, 2008; King, 2016), and anthropological research investigating hunting practices among ‘Western’ and indigenous peoples, which indicates that ‘wild killing’ can be experienced as positive and/or rewarding (Cartmill, 1993; Ingold, 2000; Knight, 2012; Marvin, 2010; Watson and Huntington, 2008). More recently, there has been increasing academic interest in how killing and death ‘circulate alongside care and life’ (Ginn et al., 2014: 113), addressing the ‘violent-care’ of killing in conservation (Clark, 2015; van Dooren, 2015), rescue shelters (Reeve and Rogelberg, 2005) and veterinary practices (Law, 2010). Practitioners working in these domains can find killing ‘genuinely difficult’ (Atchison et al., 2017; van Dooren, 2011), and experience moral stress, or ‘a sense of discord and tension’ (Rollin, 1987: 119) between their reasons for acting (care) and their actions (taking life). Scholars have also, therefore, begun to examine the potential significance of detachments and ‘non-relation’ between the killer and the killed (Ginn, 2014).
Haraway (2008) argues that living ‘outside killing’ is effectively impossible, and proposes that it is not killing per se that is fundamentally problematic, but making others – animals or humans – ‘killable’. She cautiously suggests that, to avoid the ‘exterminism’ associated with ‘making killable’, people might aim to stay ‘in the presence of’ (2008: 83) those they kill, and take responsibility for killing. Here, we aim to contribute to this emergent body of literature that seeks neither to condemn nor to defend nonhuman killing. Rather, we aim to problematise killing, and take it seriously as an inescapable and consequential form of human–animal interaction, but have avoided making general judgements about its appropriateness or morality. In taking this seemingly detached approach, we are not claiming objectivity, or that our writing and observation of killing practices are innocent. We could arguably have taken a more critical or normative stance on the ethical implications of killing squirrels. However, here we aimed to share and interpret practitioners’ own understandings of their motivations and activities without judgement. We therefore sought to treat divergent and sometimes conflicting approaches symmetrically, irrespective of their alignment with our personal appraisals or moral positions. Similarly, as grey squirrels, here, are the subjects of immediate human violence, an argument could be made for more explicit examination of their experiences and potential suffering. However, grey squirrels are not the only nonhuman subjects in this story, and to include detailed consideration of grey squirrels’ experiences while excluding those of red squirrels Sciurus vulgaris afflicted with squirrelpox virus (see below), or trees diseased or dying from de-barking, would also be asymmetrical. Nevertheless, we do not ignore these challenging processes; in describing some practices in detail we trouble the ‘clean’ versions of killing presented in institutional and public discourses, and we show that even where killing is commonplace, it is rarely completely normalised.
We are also interested in the distinction between killing and ‘making killable’ in both the specific context of squirrel management and in wildlife management more broadly, and this work therefore also speaks to a growing literature that examines the governance of wildlife, including introduced species, through the Foucauldian lenses of ‘biopolitics’ and/or ‘biopower’ (Biermann and Mansfield, 2014; Collard, 2012; Fredriksen, 2016; Lorimer and Driessen, 2013; Srinivasan, 2014; Srinivasan and Kasturirangan, 2017). The broad tenets of contemporary grey squirrel control could readily be identified and explored as human (though not necessarily state) efforts to assert power and control over life: grey squirrels are regularly ‘made to die’ in order for red squirrels and trees to live (see Hodgetts, 2017; Srinivasan and Kasturirangan, 2017). However, as we move beyond the generality of government and institutional strategies, and into the intricacies of practice – the nuanced and contested ways that killing is done – we find that ‘killing to make live’ is a heterogeneous activity. Killing squirrels is certainly biopolitical, but here we approach biopolitics not only as a philosophy or strategy of governance, but also and perhaps more tellingly as the relations between a complex collective of things: humans, nonhumans, ideas, words, practices, and so on (hence our development of multiple ‘modes’ – see below). We are therefore engaging with a version of biopolitics that conceives of governance as ‘arranging things so that this or that end may be achieved through a certain number of means’ (Foucault, 2007: 99), rather than focusing on governance as a means of disciplining, repressing or otherwise manipulating life (see Asdal et al., 2017; Lemke, 2015).
Killing wildlife is often, and perhaps increasingly, controversial (McLeod, 2007; Meurk, 2015), and the evaluation of ‘public’ and ‘stakeholder’ attitudes towards lethal control has become an increasingly important component of research investigating the ‘human dimensions’ of wildlife management (e.g. Dandy et al., 2012; Enticott, 2015; Farnworth et al., 2014; Lute and Attari, 2017; Sharp et al., 2011). In comparison to these broader ‘communities of interest’ (Patterson et al., 2003), relatively few people, in the UK at least, comprise the ‘communities of practice’ (Everts, 2015; Lave and Wenger, 1991) that kill or bring about the death of wild vertebrates, and less academic research has focused on the views and experiences of these diffuse, diverse communities (Boonman-Berson et al., 2014). Our research therefore aimed to directly engage with a range of people involved in managing introduced grey squirrels in the UK (including professionals, volunteers and private individuals), to better understand their aims and motivations, and to explore how these are translated into practices. Here, we explore some of the complexities and considerations of wildlife management ‘in practice’, focusing on killing as a central component of contemporary squirrel management. We identify patterns and variations in how practitioners rationalise, perform, and respond to killing, which we group into ‘modes of killing’, or ways in which our participants approached, performed (or brought about), and responded to killing.
Our use of ‘mode’ draws on Law’s (1994) ‘modes of ordering’, ‘in which talk, actions and materials are continuously organised’ (Wilkinson, 2011: 963), often through narratives ‘of what used to be, or what ought to happen’ (Law, 1994: 20) but also through continuous performance and material effects. Our ‘modes of killing’ share important features with Law’s modes of ordering: there is often more than one mode at work in any given setting; they relate to, sometimes rely on, and sometimes conflict with one another; and they are not rational orderings imposed from without, but products of people’s attempts to understand, live with and (often) control messy realities (Hinchliffe, 2007). The modes we describe are associated with, but not restricted to, different ‘arenas’ of squirrel management: conservation of red squirrels; tree protection; and routine or ad-hoc control of ‘undesirable’ animals (here referred to as vermin control). These arenas identifiably vary in their social and structural organisation, the methods they adopt, and their ultimate aims. The term ‘arenas’ is also associated with sites of conflict and performance, and therefore also highlights that squirrel control is not only a concept or strategy, but also something physically practised in specific places. These arenas produce, are produced by, and are associated with different ways in which people attempt to order, or make sense of, the world, in all its messiness and with all the necessary imperfections; and here, particularly, the ‘natural’ world and the place and role of squirrels, trees and people within it.
We begin with a brief introduction to squirrels and their management in the UK. Following a summary of our methods and analytic approach, we draw on our empirical work to outline three different ‘modes of killing’, their implications for the future of grey squirrel management, and areas of tension and accord between them. We conclude by highlighting the complex relations between ‘killing’ and ‘making killable’, and discuss how a detailed understanding of different modes of killing, and how they interact, might contribute to the development of effective, socially legitimate and sustainable wildlife management policies and projects.
Background: Squirrels in the United Kingdom
There are two species of squirrel in the UK: the Eurasian red squirrel and the Eastern grey squirrel. The ‘natural’ history of red squirrels in the UK, prior to the 1930s, is ‘somewhat perplexing and difficult to unravel’ (Lloyd, 1983: 69). Although populations declined significantly nationwide in the 18th-century, reforestation and reintroductions enabled something of a resurgence, and by the late 19th-century red squirrels had become so abundant that intensive efforts were made to reduce their numbers (Holmes, 2015). By the early 20th-century, they were in decline once again, affected by disease, deforestation and competition with grey squirrels (Coates, 2015).
Introduced from North America over a hundred years ago, the socio-ecological place of grey squirrels in the UK remains contested (Coates, 2015). Despite efforts to control their spread and numbers, grey squirrels are now established across most of Great Britain and Northern Ireland (Mayle and Broome, 2013). They have become a visible and popular visitor to many urban–suburban parks and gardens (Bonnington et al., 2014), but also pose significant challenges for both red squirrel conservation and arboriculture. As grey squirrels spread during the 20th-century, red squirrel populations continued to decline (Mayle and Broome, 2013). Current scientific understanding is that this supplanting of one species by another is primarily the result of disease-mediated competition (White et al., 2014). Direct resource competition with grey squirrels adversely affects red squirrel fitness and recruitment (Gurnell et al., 2004; Wauters et al., 2002) but grey squirrels can also carry squirrelpox virus (SQPV), which causes high mortality in red squirrel populations while hardly affecting grey squirrels (Chantrey et al., 2014; Tompkins et al., 2002). Strategic controls have helped red squirrels persist in designated ‘strongholds’ (Shuttleworth et al., 2015; White et al., 2014), however, most of the red squirrel population in mainland Great Britain is now restricted to Scotland, and a ‘front-line’ against grey squirrel expansion has been established along the Scottish borders (Tonkin et al., 2016).
Grey squirrels damage growing trees by bark stripping, primarily in late spring and summer (Mayle and Broome, 2013). Multiple hypotheses have been advanced to explain this behaviour (see Nichols et al., 2016), but it remains poorly understood and continues to frustrate woodland owners and managers (Forestry Commission (England), 2014; Royal Forestry Society, 2014). Indeed, the issue has become more pronounced as native broadleaved woodlands, extensively planted with the assistance of generous grant aid in the 1990s, reach the most vulnerable age for squirrel damage (10–40 years: Mayle and Broome, 2013). Publicly owned woodlands still largely comprise less vulnerable non-native conifers (85% of the area of the public forest estate cf. 38% in private woodland: Forestry Commission, 2016), and the Forestry Commission (England) concentrates its grey squirrel control in red squirrel areas and highly vulnerable forestry plantations. In private woodlands, grey squirrels are subject to variable degrees and methods of control. Poisoning with the anticoagulant rodenticide warfarin was a popular control method from its introduction in 1973 until its effective banning (for outdoor use) in mid-2015 (Commission Regulation (EU) No. 186/2014). Remaining legal control methods include shooting and trapping, using both kill- and live-capture traps. In some areas, however, rather than investing in costly management, woodland managers have simply stopped planting vulnerable broadleaves. Grey squirrels are also regularly killed during routine and/or reactive pest control on farms, around pens for rearing and releasing pheasants Phasianus colchicus for shooting, and in houses and gardens, where they create (what some see as) nuisance by digging bulbs, denning in attics, and disturbing birds (Bonnington et al., 2014). Drey-poking (where shooting parties use poles to coax young and adult squirrels from their arboreal dens, known as dreys) and free-shooting are both used to supplement other methods (Royal Forestry Society, 2014). Finally, a relatively minor amount of recreational killing also takes place. In parts of North America, this is a traditional, if declining, pursuit (Beardon et al., 2002). In Britain, while red squirrels were historically hunted for their pelts and ‘squirrel clubs’ that targeted red and then grey squirrels enjoyed some popularity in the 1900s and 1940s (Holmes, 2015; Sheail, 1999), there is no strong tradition of recreational squirrel hunting (compared with, for example, fox and deer hunting, or game-bird shooting). We revisit the potential growth of this form of killing later in the paper.
Grey squirrel management has become something of a cyclical issue in British political discourse: Sheail (1999) concluded that ever since grey squirrels started to spread, consistent pressure from concerned lobbyists has prompted intermittent government efforts to address the problem, or at least to ‘be seen [to be] responding’ (p. 145). This trend has continued since Sheail’s analysis. Squirrels appear in parliamentary questions and debates almost annually, and national and regional governments are involved, to varying degrees, in grey squirrel control initiatives (primarily focused on red squirrel conservation, although grants for squirrel control in vulnerable woodlands are available as part of ‘Countryside Stewardship’ schemes). As of 2017, Government policy for grey squirrel management in England focuses on providing funding and support for research and coordinated control programmes (Forestry Commission (England) and Defra, 2014). The devolved Welsh, Scottish and Northern Irish governments also support targeted grey squirrel control projects in red squirrel areas (Northern Ireland Squirrel Forum, 2016; Scottish Squirrel Group, 2015; Wales Squirrel Forum, 2009). In 2014, concerned parties additionally established the UK Squirrel Accord (http://squirrelaccord.uk/), a formal manifestation of contemporary efforts to unite the two primary drivers of grey squirrel control (forestry and red squirrel conservation) by co-ordinating the efforts of its signatories, which include government bodies, conservation organisations, forestry organisations and pest controllers. The issue features regularly in the news media, often associated with the launch of new grey squirrel control and/or red squirrel conservation initiatives. Nevertheless, at present grey squirrel management maintains a relatively low public profile, unlike other wildlife management problems in the UK that have been dominated by fraught, high-profile, chronic public debates (e.g. surrounding culling badgers Meles meles, hunting foxes Vulpes vulpes, and illegal killing of raptors).
Methods
Case regions and participants
Research participants categorised by primary relationship to grey squirrel control and location.
Volunteer types: (1) no trapping, surveying only, (2) trap host, no dispatch, (3) trap host, including dispatch, (4) trap-loan coordination/response, including dispatch, (5) active trapping outside trap-loan scheme.
Interviews and participant observation
The primary method of data generation was semi-structured interviews, following a schedule of topics that was adapted to different participants and management contexts. 2 We also used, where appropriate, ‘go-along’ interviews, in which ‘fieldworkers accompany individual informants on their “natural” outings, and … actively explore their subjects’ stream of experiences and practices as they move through, and interact with, their physical and social environment’ (Kusenbach, 2003: 463). This method complements the discursive focus of ‘static’ interviews with observations and interpretation of material practices (Rapley, 2007; Wanderer, 2014). The lead author also participated in relevant events: a volunteer recruitment evening in Wales, a volunteer update meeting in Scotland, a volunteer working group in northwest England, and an excursion with members of a forestry organisation in southwest England. 3 All fieldwork took place between April and July 2016.
Analysis
Our analysis began with a detailed reading of field notes and interview transcripts, and loose coding of emergent ideas and themes (using NVivo for Mac v11.4). We then focused on identifying patterns in how practitioners spoke about (both species of) squirrels, the ‘place’ of squirrels in Britain, and the role of squirrel management; how they explained their decisions and ethical positions; and how squirrel control was ‘done’ in practice. We organised these patterns into several ‘interpretive repertoires’ (consistent variations in discursive patterns of explanation, justification and terminology: Wetherell and Potter, 1988) associated with relatively consistent variations in management strategies and methods. We combined these repertoires of discursive and material practices into ‘modes of killing’: collectives of motivation, morality, aims and actions that do not necessarily correspond to the categorisation of participants, but of different orientations towards the meaning and purpose of killing, and how it is performed (Marvin, 2010). Our use of this orderly typology is primarily for analytic clarity, as these modes are connected in complex ways, and not mutually exclusive: practitioners might shift between modes, depending on context.
Results: Arenas and modes of killing
Red squirrel conservation and reparative/sacrificial killing
For participants involved in grey squirrel control for red squirrel conservation, killing was often considered a ‘nasty necessity’ (Temple, 1990): an unpleasant but fundamental component of conservation work. Killing for conservation is a complex issue. People working to protect species and ecosystems are generally motivated by an interest in preserving – rather than curtailing – wild lives. Consequently, participants were often quick to emphasise that they would rather not kill animals. However, there was broad consensus that killing grey squirrels was acceptable in the context of the ‘greater good’ (Matthew, squirrel control officer) of biodiversity conservation, and was currently the only realistic means protecting red squirrels.
Several connected but subtly different concerns underpin the ‘killing for conservation’ rationale. Participants regularly referred to the importance of preserving native nature, and introduced species that disrupt the ‘natural balance’ of native ecologies therefore required control. This argument was closely intertwined with the belief that, because people were responsible for introducing grey squirrels, they also have a moral duty to manage the consequences: ‘We mucked it up basically [by] upsetting the balance originally, and I think we need to try and undo that’ (Matthew). ‘We’, it was argued, should correct the mistakes of ancestors and conspecifics: ‘We as mankind, if you like, have contributed to the demise of some of these species; it’s our responsibility to redress that imbalance’ (Paul, volunteer trap-loan coordinator). Thus, killing grey squirrels is considered not just an unfortunate aspect of managing and correcting imbalances in nature, but – when these imbalances are anthropogenic – a moral duty. This finding is consistent with existing literature that has identified and explored the ways in which the ethical underpinnings of contemporary biodiversity conservation emphasise the preservation and flourishing of particular (often native and/or rare) collectives, even – and sometimes determinedly – at the expense of (non-native, abundant) others (Biermann and Mansfield, 2014; Srinivasan, 2014; van Dooren, 2015).
More specifically, killing grey squirrels is understood as a necessary component of red squirrel conservation. One volunteer, after emotively recounting the collapse of the local red squirrel population following a disease outbreak, explained: I’d rather not [kill grey squirrels]. But … in the interests of saving the [red] squirrels, it’s a necessary evil. It’s the injustice that gets me, it is the injustice of this – it is all our fault, and we need to do something about it. (Deborah)
These and other conservation volunteers expressed a sense of personal responsibility not only to correct anthropogenic ecological disruption, but also to defend animals with whom they felt connected, and which might otherwise be lost (see also Lurz, 2014). Jan explained that, ‘I’d never given red squirrels a second glance, because the[y] were always there. And suddenly … they weren’t … and that was really what [motivated me] … I thought, that’s just dreadful, because red squirrels belong here …’ Humans can develop emotional and material attachments to ‘charismatic’ (Lorimer, 2007) species through positive interactions, and specific populations and organisms can become integrated into personal, community and cultural identities. Should these valued individuals or collectives be threatened, their human supporters rally to their defence, committing extensive time, resources and emotional energy to their protection (see also Crowley et al., in press). Such attachments were evident among conservation volunteers, and commented on by conservation professionals: ‘[People in this area] kind of feel like [the red squirrel is] theirs, and so they need to protect it – it’s like they’ve got ownership of those red squirrels, really’ (Jessica, conservation project officer). Red squirrels, then, are not simply protected as an ecologically ‘native’ species, but also carry important cultural values. These include nostalgic affection (‘We want to see some about! As I did as a kid, you know’: Eric, volunteer); associations between isolated red squirrel populations and the identities of communities and locales (‘people are quite proud [of the squirrels] … that sounds silly, but it’s something special, isn’t it?’: Lin, volunteer); and even links with national identity, as ‘one of those iconic [Scottish] species’ (Sandra, local government official). 4 The red squirrel’s popularity (particularly in the regions they persist) may be intensified by the grey squirrel’s presence and expansion, that is, part of the red squirrel’s contemporary appeal appears to lie in its status as the victim and underdog of an unfolding struggle between ecologically similar species: ‘the greys [have] got a couple of weapons haven’t they, they’ve got the pox virus, they eat them out of house and home, they can eat the food earlier … everything’s against the reds!’ (Barry, volunteer).
Nevertheless, individual grey squirrels were still often regarded as ‘innocent’, and their killing caused discomfort and regret to some participants. Gillian, a volunteer in Scotland, was strongly protective of red squirrels but felt unable to fully support lethal control of grey squirrels, because ‘it’s not the squirrel’s fault, [yet] it’s the squirrel that gets murdered!’ This encapsulates an important dilemma that many participants faced; they felt people had a moral responsibility to ‘undo’ ill-considered introductions, and protect red squirrels, but disliked the idea that it was grey squirrels that would ‘pay’ for this. However, even though some participants sympathised with, and even expressed respect for grey squirrels, there was a widespread belief that their choice was straightforward: ‘You can’t have both squirrels. You can have one, or you can have the other, but you can’t have both’ (Diana, volunteer). Grey squirrels, therefore, are sacrificed so that red squirrels might persist. We have termed this approach to killing ‘reparative/sacrificial’, because it is motivated by a sense of moral duty and responsibility towards anthropogenically disrupted ecologies, and protectiveness of red squirrels. It is accompanied, however, by unease about killing ‘innocent’ wildlife, which is overcome by framing squirrel killing as a necessary sacrifice.
Official red squirrel conservation projects advocate systematic live-trapping of grey squirrels. Systematic trapping is considered the most effective means of ‘clearing’ an area of grey squirrels, and live-trapping is necessary where red squirrels are present because kill-traps cannot discriminate between the two species. Trapped squirrels are killed by a shot to the head with an air pistol/rifle, or by cranial concussion. The latter involves transferring the squirrel to a hessian sack before delivering a forceful blow to the head with a heavy, blunt object (often a weighted wooden ‘priest’). The procedure is visceral and physical, and can be challenging and anxiety-inducing to perform (and indeed, to witness). Trapped squirrels are vocal and agitated, and may twitch, convulse and/or gasp following the strike. Ironically, these affecting final reflexes are good indications that the blow was sufficient to immediately stun, and rapidly kill, the squirrel (Central Science Laboratory, 2009). To be this effective, however, the strike requires confidence and commitment: ‘You’ve got to put brutality behind it. So, do it as if you really mean it, doing it half-hearted is not going to do the job, it’s going to stress the animal’ (Andrew, squirrel control officer).
Practitioners of all kinds reported feeling responsible for killing ‘properly’ (skilfully and confidently enough to ensure a rapid, ‘humane’ death), but this was made particularly explicit by those performing reparative/sacrificial killing, where there was evidence of a heightened sense of moral responsibility towards grey squirrels: Lloyd: I’ve killed probably thousands of grey squirrels but … I even get anxious doing it, I still just get ever so slightly nervous, every time … because I’m anxious to do it properly. Tim: Every time I do one, I want it to be the one hit, and it’s gone. And that’s always the thing … am I gonna hit this right so it’s finished straight away? (Wildlife management professionals assisting conservation project)
Practitioners might cognitively and emotionally detach themselves from killing (with the assistance of tools like the sights of a gun or a hessian sack), but they are nevertheless the immediate cause of death. Other participants found these acts too challenging, however, and although they bring about squirrel deaths, they also perform ‘choreographies of separation’ (Law, 2010) through which they physically and perceptually distance themselves from killing. For example, despite it being illegal in Britain under the Animal Welfare Act (2006), significant concerns about its humaneness (Central Science Laboratory, 2009), and a high-profile prosecution (Ellicott, 2010), drowning trapped squirrels is still, seemingly, a common practice (see also Ginn, 2016). This method of killing, while deliberate, is less immediately violent than shooting or cranial concussion. By submerging the trap in water (and closing a lid), it is possible to ‘walk away’ from the squirrel’s death.
Those unable or unwilling to kill squirrels themselves can also create distance by having someone else kill for them. In some regions, professional grey squirrel control officers enable householders to participate in management without needing to kill. Householders monitor a trap, cover trapped squirrels (which serves to calm both squirrels and discomforted humans), and phone a control officer. There is an interesting split, however, between those householders who then avoid further involvement and those who ‘want to see it through, from reporting … to seeing the squirrel killed. It’s like a process for them. They’d rather see it right the way through to the very end’ (Andrew). Some participants of these schemes therefore purposefully face killing, while simultaneously maintaining some distance from it.
A final note on distancing is the role played by terminology. The most common term employed for killing squirrels is ‘dispatching’. Although dispatch has long been a euphemism for ‘kill’, this is a secondary meaning. Primarily, ‘to dispatch’ means ‘to send off’; indeed, one volunteer (and former pest controller) recounted how the term had caused confusion in the past, when he had included it in a technical note and subsequently been asked: ‘Where are you dispatching them to?’ (Frank). Several participants mused that they would happily ship all grey squirrels ‘back’ to America. ‘Dispatching’ hints that the relation of killer to killed, in reparative/sacrificial mode, is not necessarily one of vitriol, retribution, or even justice. Rather, it can be interpreted as simply a desire to make grey squirrels absent (Ginn, 2014), by whatever means necessary.
Management approaches that might achieve the same goals – restoration, conservation, atonement – with less strain are therefore appealing to those performing reparative/sacrificial killing. One such alternative is ‘biocontrol’ of squirrels through the reintroduction of native pine martens Martes martes, a tantalisingly plausible ‘solution’ to the seemingly Sisyphean task of killing grey squirrels in perpetuity. The idea that healthy pine marten populations could control grey squirrel populations through predation has been around for some years (see Barr et al., 2002). It has recently been reinvigorated, however, following an influential Irish study that identified a negative correlation between pine marten and grey squirrel abundance (Sheehy and Lawton, 2014). Several organisations are now engaged in projects that aim to restore pine martens to British woodlands. The restoration of a native species (formerly subject to human persecution) is itself reparative; that this might serve to control a problematic species is considered a bonus (Macpherson et al., 2014). Furthermore, successful biocontrol would limit the amount of killing (by humans) involved. It is therefore particularly appealing to those permanently troubled by the act of killing, who might prefer the more ‘natural’, nourishing, and hidden deaths afforded by pine marten predation.
Woodland protection and stewardship killing
Where red squirrels are no longer present, grey squirrels are often killed with the aim of protecting trees, particularly timber trees. Private economic interest is therefore an important motivation, although the economics are more nuanced than ‘kill squirrels, save trees’: you’ve got to look at the difference in value of undamaged broadleaf timber … compared with what you’d be able to sell it for as firewood. And the difference in value is in theory what you could afford to spend on squirrel control. If you could be sure that squirrel control [would prevent damage.] (Ian, forestry professional)
Squirrel control is also motivated, therefore, by the expectation that without it, native broadleaved woodlands will not flourish long-term. There is an emotional component, too, to the (often sudden) ‘devastation’ of trees by squirrels: ‘You look up, and you think, heavens, that’s been growing there for ten, fifteen, twenty years, and it’s been ruined during the last week, and … now it’s had it’ (Richard, woodland owner). This problem is compounded by a similar, contemporaneous struggle with the management of (native and introduced) deer populations; indeed, squirrels and deer were raised as issues in tandem in most of our conversations with foresters. Furthermore, trees are multivalent, and the commercial, amenity and conservation value of woodlands are intertwined: I have heard the argument that a squirrel-damaged tree is still a habitat. [But] trees and woodlands can produce a resource and be sustainable. If you’ve got a pest in them that’s completely undermining the economics, then you’re just having a bush [with] dead wood and insects in it. (Robert, forestry professional)
Squirrels are evaluated negatively where (and because) they create problems for property and profit, and/or threaten valued landscapes. Correspondingly, killing is practised when it is considered warranted and worthwhile: ‘We felt the need to exercise some degree of control, just to reduce the population to the point where the damage [squirrels] do is acceptable rather than unacceptable’ (Ian, forestry professional). The grey squirrel’s status as an introduced species is less pertinent to stewardship killing than the amount of damage they cause, though it is still relevant, due to their apparently greater economic impacts in British woodlands than in their native range (perhaps related to differences in population density). Nevertheless, red squirrels, a former ‘prime pest of the forester’ (Ritchie, 1920: 297) were also historically subject to extensive ‘stewardship killing’ in coniferous forests. In this mode, being a ‘pest’ renders grey (and, previously, red) squirrels killable, as it renders deer and other nuisance wildlife killable. That is, it is always acceptable to kill pests. What constitutes a ‘pest’, however, is dependent on both the subject and its placing (as matter out of place; Douglas, 1966), and shifts according to the aims of stewardship and extent of the problem. Here, squirrels are generally classified as killable, in the sense that they are configured as one of a range of species that might ‘require’ control. However, the appropriateness and probability of killing is nevertheless context-dependent.
In practice, stewardship killing is decidedly matter-of-fact. The lead author accompanied Greg, a professional wildlife manager, on a trap-checking round. On encountering a trapped squirrel, Greg coaxed it into a well-used hessian sack, before quickly twisting the end and securing it with his foot. He delivered a swift, hard blow to the squirrel’s head, before turning out the sack to confirm the kill. He checked the sex and condition of the squirrels’ bodies, but left them in the woodland ‘for the buzzards’. This was all done quickly, calmly, and without ceremony. Greg only expressed minor discomfort when recounting that he sometimes killed lactating females (as their young would then starve). Nevertheless, he kills every trapped squirrel, because ‘[shrugs] it’s the job, isn’t it?’ 7 Greg’s actions were not carried out in an aggressive or zealous manner. Neither, however, did he express unease about the squirrels’ deaths. Several professional wildlife managers working in red squirrel conservation also approached killing in this pragmatic mode, and attributed their relative comfort to their socio-cultural backgrounds (in farming and/or ‘countryside management’), for example: ‘I was a gamekeeper, so trapping was second nature … I’ve been involved ever since I was young in shooting and fishing’ (Andrew).
The proposition that people can become inured to killing was supported by participants who had ‘never killed anything before’ (a repeated refrain) and initially felt nervous, squeamish and upset, but found killing squirrels easier with repetition and experience. Possibly, therefore, early and/or regular involvement with, or exposure to, killing wildlife produces a better ability to cope with (or never develop) emotional discomfort (something McLeod, 2007 also proposed in relation to duck hunters). Still, even among the most pragmatic, certain situations could provoke emotional discord; notably, one professional found killing squirrel kits upsetting because they ‘scream’.
Inhumane methods, including drowning, were considered ‘unnecessary’ (Paul). However, there are indications that this utilitarian approach to killing allows trade-offs between humaneness and economics: warfarin, for example, causes prolonged suffering, but tended to be rejected or promoted based on its assumed effectiveness, rather than the humaneness of its action. 8 Similarly, although humane kill-traps were ostensibly preferred, there were indications that this could also be contingent on cost: ‘[Humaneness is] all to do with how long it takes to kill something efficiently, and you’re talking about seconds or something … Well, a Fenn trap’s ten quid and the recommended alternative’s fifty’ (Richard). The popular, inexpensive Fenn Mk IV was believed ‘on the way out’ due to the trap failing to satisfy international standards for humaneness for a different target species, the stoat Mustela erminea (Warburton et al., 2008). Wildlife management professionals repeatedly mentioned GoodNature™ traps (www.goodnature.co.nz) as a potential alternative, as it was hoped that a version of this might become licensed for squirrel control, thereby bringing the possibility of more efficient killing. There were high expectations for this gas-powered device, which rapidly kills curious individuals with a bolt to the head, drops the body to the ground, and resets itself. This new killing technology makes deaths quicker and cleaner, and significantly reduces the labour required to check, clear and reset kill-traps. 9
Woodland managers also considered systematic trapping the most effective means of reducing squirrel numbers. However, it is resource-intensive and, if practised in isolation, creates sinks into which surrounding populations may rapidly disperse. Foresters and woodland owners expressed frustration that their neighbours didn’t undertake consistent (or any) control; this was considered poor stewardship. Accordingly, some were seeking political and financial support for more effective, coordinated and collaborative ‘landscape-scale’ management.
Controlling vermin, controlling invasives, and categorical killing
The term ‘vermin’ has a long history, and designates a shifting category of troublesome animals as, fundamentally, ‘the enemy’ whose killing is not just accepted, but expected (Fissell, 1999). Some practitioners place squirrels in this category, along with a variable collection of other species including rats, mice, rabbits, foxes, corvids, mustelids and/or raptors. Routine vermin control takes place both within and outside of conservation projects and strategic pest control. For example, one farmer at a volunteer event explained that he shot squirrels anyway, but took advantage of the free trap provided by the local trap-loan scheme. Indeed, participants working in conservation rarely encountered difficulties obtaining permissions to trap on farmland, which they attributed to ‘an understanding … amongst farmers’ (Lloyd, wildlife management professional) about the need for vermin/pest 10 control.
We call this mode of killing ‘categorical’, because it targets squirrels (and other animals) not because of what they do, but because of what they are. In stewardship killing, squirrels are killed because of what they ‘do’ (cause nuisance or damage) as individuals or subpopulations, over relatively small spatio-temporal scales (i.e. within vulnerable woodland during a key growth period). Reparative killing takes place because of what grey squirrels are perceived to ‘do’ as a collective – their replacement of red squirrels and spreading of disease. 11 The act of classification, however, renders anything within that category ‘killable’: subject to being killed always and everywhere. Indeed, whereas the key ethical questions for other modes of killing are about justifying actions (why/when/where/how would you kill grey squirrels?), the equivalent for categorical killing is about justifying restraint (why would you not kill squirrels?). Accordingly, some participants were confused when asked if there were places or times when grey squirrels should not be killed. They responded that squirrels should always be subject to control because they are ‘vermin’, ‘a pest’ or ‘an invasive’ (more on the latter below).
The term ‘tree-rat’ (applied to grey squirrels in Britain since at least 1936: Coates, 2015) is a discursive indication that this deadly classification has occurred. Like ‘rats with wings’ for pigeons, ‘tree-rat’ loads squirrels with ‘the moral and aesthetic baggage of the rat’ (Jerolmack, 2008: 87), indicating they should be received and treated as rats are: ‘if you think of them in those terms, then that’s the way they need to be dealt with – right through from killing, controlling – to not eating’ (Ian, forestry professional). The term not only renders squirrels killable, but also, because of the association between vermin and disease, makes them inedible (which can present an obstacle for those who argue that grey squirrels should be harvested for food). Although ‘tree-rat’ is regularly applied to grey squirrels, red squirrels are exempted. Participants put this discrepancy down to fundamental differences in the species’ appearance and behaviour (e.g. ‘there is something more rodent-like about grey squirrels, they’re not as charming’: Jan, conservation volunteer). However, it is worth reiterating that until relatively recently, red squirrels were considered equally verminous (Holmes, 2015). They have since undergone ‘reputation rehab’ (Jerolmack, 2008), however. As one squirrel control officer in Scotland pointed out, ‘red squirrels are just tree-rats with good PR’ (Jenny).
Throughout the 20th-century, as different ways of valuing wildlife have emerged and interest in wildlife conservation grown, the concept of ‘vermin’ has consistently been challenged and the list of species to which the classification applies (legally, at least) has reduced (Smout, 2003). Arguably, however, the categorisation of species as ‘invasive’ is replacing ‘vermin’ as a label that designates certain animals as ‘out of place’ (Crowley, 2014; Milton, 2000), troublesome and, ultimately, killable. Numerous participants advocated killing grey squirrels nationwide on the basis that they were ‘invasives’, even when/where this was unlikely to have any substantive benefit for either red squirrels or trees: ‘I don’t see any excuse for treating an animal cruelly, but I don’t see any other reason not to control grey squirrels’ (Jenny, squirrel control officer) and ‘the more [control] the better, it’s just getting people to do it really, isn’t it?’ (Matthew, squirrel control officer). The ‘ethical taxonomy’ of invasive species (van Dooren, 2011) therefore does similar work to ‘vermin’, with material effects: for example, grey squirrels can be killed year-round and without limit in Britain, whereas red squirrels cannot be legally killed without a specific licence. It is worth noting at this juncture that the concept of ‘invasive species’ is multi-faceted and contested both within and beyond academia (Boonman-Berson et al., 2014; Humair et al., 2014). Here, participants tended to interpret the term in relation to the effects of grey squirrel introduction, rather than their non-native origin alone (see also Selge et al., 2011; Van der Wal et al., 2015). They identified grey squirrels as invasive based on their replacement of, and perceived harms to, red squirrels. Nevertheless, those who used the term generally applied it categorically to grey squirrels in the UK, irrespective of variability in different populations’ threat to red squirrels.
Categorical killing is associated with (largely discursive) political endeavours to influence cultural and politico-legal valuations of squirrels, and encourage more extensive and/or more intensive control, rather than a specific management strategy. Several participants referred to an ongoing ‘psychological war’ (Frank, volunteer) against what is believed to be (a) loss of societal attachment to/concern for the red squirrel and (b) an insidious ‘invasion’ of grey squirrels into the UK’s cultural discourse and its citizens’ affections. The ‘defence’ against these perceived socio-cultural changes is being mounted on three fronts. First, there is the promotion of the red squirrel, including work to ‘establish a network of red squirrel enclaves in Grey Squirrel Britain’ (Vass, 2016 [UK Squirrel Accord]). Making red squirrels physically present and visible is intended to instil and/or reinvigorate attachments among British publics who no longer encounter them, and help ‘alleviat[e] some of the anxiety that a strong grey squirrel control will bring’ (Vass, 2016). These developments are not just for red squirrel conservation, but also to improve the ‘public face’ and acceptability of grey squirrel control, and to promote engagement: ‘if we’re going to change public opinion on the greys we need a flagship to pin it on and the reds is the obvious one’ (Arthur, woodland owner).
A second component of this ‘psychological war’ is resistance to socio-cultural (including legal) assimilation of grey squirrels. The 2014 removal of a clause in the Grey Squirrels (Prohibition of Importation and Keeping) Order 1937 means it is no longer a legal requirement to report grey squirrel sightings. The Red Squirrel Survival Trust, however, ‘didn’t feel comfortable supporting this move because it’s one step closer to accepting an invasive non-native species and giving it the right to live here’ (spokesperson quoted in Cohen, 2014). 12 Some of our participants also criticised organisations that depict grey squirrels in promotional materials, and ‘the media’ was accused of ‘paint[ing squirrels] as harmless, fluffy little fun things’ (Arthur), or ‘good, cuddly, something to be encouraged’ (Richard, woodland owner). Their implication is that these depictions are inappropriate, misleading, and even subversive, rather than reflections of broader shifts in public attitudes. The third strategy, then, is to ensure that if grey squirrels are to be culturally salient, this is as ‘public enemy number one … There are people who think that grey squirrels are sweet … if they were referred to as tree-rats, which they are, that might elicit a different response’ (Arthur). The message is that grey squirrels are not appropriate subjects of care or concern (indeed, some implied that encounters with them shouldn’t be encouraged or enjoyed), that their appropriate classification is as vermin or invasives, and that they should be treated (killed) accordingly.
Tensions and alliances
The divergent management rationales and strategies produced by the co-existence of these multiple modes can produce tensions between projects and practitioners. The importance that reparative/sacrificial killing places on regretful, necessary sacrifice, and the attendant configuration of grey squirrels as blameless ‘collateral damage’, sits uneasily alongside comprehensive, categorical killability, and associated disregard for – and even vilification of – grey squirrels: ‘there are people who want to malign grey squirrels and just get rid of them as vermin … [but] I would like them always to be treated with respect’ (Emma, conservation project officer). Similarly, the potential introduction of GoodNature™ traps, and the associated ability to automate killing, troubled those who placed a lot of significance on the personal moral responsibilities of killing. Some were concerned that squirrel control might subsequently become laissez-faire: ‘if you can’t be bothered to come out and check a trap every day … you shouldn’t be trapping. You should care enough to want to do that’ (Jenny, wildlife management professional).
There are also, however, areas of convergence between modes. Recreational hunting currently comprises a small proportion of squirrel control in the UK, and we did not directly investigate the motivations and practices of people who kill squirrels recreationally. Nevertheless, we would postulate that the aims and methods of recreational hunting likely constitute a fourth mode of killing that diverges again from those described here (Dickson, 2009; Marvin, 2010), and there are suggestions that ‘recreational killing’ could increasingly contribute to squirrel management. The British Association for Shooting and Conservation (BASC) is helping to develop a new strategy in which woodland owners allow recreational air-gunners to shoot grey squirrels at baited hoppers on their land. 13 Recreational shooters were therefore considered ‘a resource’ (Richard) by some woodland owners and managers, as they provide a cost-effective supplementary control measure.
Several conservation projects are also working with the BASC and/or volunteer squirrel-shooting clubs to ‘harness’ (Harriet, conservation project officer) existing enthusiasms, and incorporate recreational shooting into conservation control measures. However, some participants expressed reservations about the contribution of recreational hunting to conservation projects, and particularly local eradications, which emphasise ‘getting those last few … but that [recreational] volunteer might want to go somewhere different where there’s lots of grey squirrels to shoot’ (Jessica, conservation project officer). Furthermore, several expressed reservations about the morality of recreational killing, and its practitioners: ‘it’s the ones who enjoy killing that you’ve got to watch … I think the shootists are the ones that come closest’ (Paul, volunteer).
Concluding discussion
Summary analysis of different ‘modes of killing’ grey squirrels in the UK.
This final mode is provisional, as none of our participants practiced only recreational squirrel shooting. The suggestions here are based on (a) evidence from those participants involved in recreational shooting alongside other control activities, and (b) existing research exploring the drivers of recreational hunting more generally (e.g. Marvin, 2010).
Reparative/sacrificial killing is in line with a concern for biodiversity conservation and ‘love’ of wildlife that is currently widespread among UK publics. Red squirrel conservation, including that which involves extensive lethal control of grey squirrels, attracts public funding and support. Indeed, in 2017, ‘Red Squirrels United’ (an umbrella project supporting initiatives in England/Wales/Northern Ireland) and ‘Saving Scotland’s Red Squirrels’ both received funding boosts to continue their work by enrolling ‘armies’ of volunteers (BBC, 2017a, 2017b). As we have seen, passionate and committed volunteers can overcome reservations about killing to make important contributions to these projects, yet it is also apparent that many find reparative/sacrificial killing challenging and emotionally draining. Even though there is relatively high support for lethal control of grey squirrels where it benefits red squirrels (Dunn and Marzano, 2015), many people nevertheless feel unable or unwilling to participate. There are also, of course, many others who are disinterested in, ambivalent about, or actively opposed to squirrel control, who would also be unlikely to volunteer. 14 Consequently, the uptake and retention of volunteers required to carry out lethal control – and the long-term success of volunteer-reliant strategies – may be limited. An associated public preference for strategies that involve less direct lethal control promotes support for alternatives such as pine marten recovery and the development of immunocontraceptives. These alternatives might, however, be more cost-intensive, and/or have less well-understood impacts at population level. Furthermore, and as Hodgetts (2017) also notes, indirect control methods such as immunocontraceptives or ‘pine marten proxies’ (Hodgetts, 2017: 23) are not exempt from ethical consideration or challenge.
Volunteer involvement is also a key component of the UK Squirrel Accord’s drive to establish coordinated, ‘landscape-scale’ control efforts. One aim of the Accord is to facilitate more coordinated control through ‘public education’, mapping vulnerable areas of woodland, and the formation of squirrel management groups. Outside red squirrel areas, however, grey squirrel control primarily benefits private woodland owners, and is therefore challenged by the need to incentivise landowners who would be required to invest time, money, and potentially physical and emotional labour, into activities that do not benefit them. This highlights an important difference between the primary aims of stewardship killing (the benefits of which are unevenly distributed) and reparative/sacrificial killing (for the ‘public good’ of biodiversity conservation). There is also potential for discord to arise between people who practise and promote squirrel control for woodland stewardship and others who disagree that private interests are a legitimate rationale for killing wildlife. Stewardship killing is, however, often practised by professional wildlife managers who are comfortable and confident with their work, who are not permanently troubled by killing, but who nevertheless commonly maintain an interest in killing ‘well’ (humanely, effectively and efficiently). Professional wildlife managers can therefore play an important role in both woodland management and red squirrel conservation projects; indeed, as in Scotland, the presence of professional control officers can enable volunteers to engage confidently with management projects without being required to kill.
For categorical killing to effectively underpin management strategies, there needs to be widespread societal agreement that a species or population ‘belongs’ in a given category. ‘Vermin’, in wider society, has lost footing, although some species (e.g. rats, cockroaches) are still commonly represented and treated in this way. More recently, the ‘invasive’ category has become more influential, particularly among settler-descendent communities in post-colonial nations, where introduced species are key contributors to the decline of distinctive native biotas (Barker, 2010; Comaroff and Comaroff, 2001; Trigger et al., 2008). Categorical killing can, however, come into conflict with other ‘modes of ordering’ (Law, 1994) – including both those discussed here and others that render killing largely illegitimate – in which decisions about killing are made in relation to context, rather than category. In the UK, for instance, killing grey squirrels in urban areas where they pose no immediate threat to either property or red squirrels is likely to be contested. Furthermore, categorical killing has been associated with the objectification and de-individualisation of those killed, which can result in uncompassionate and even cruel practices. For example, Trigger et al. (2008) note that violent methods permitted for killing invasive cane toads in Australia would ‘never be tolerated in relation to native or domestic animal species’ (p. 1278: see also Parker, 2007; Potts, 2009; van Dooren, 2011). However, categorical approaches to management are more readily translated into policy and law than the complex, context-dependent rationales of other modes, and lend themselves to simple ‘educational’ messages and powerful rhetorical strategies. Indeed, the current legal status of grey squirrels in the UK renders them categorically killable. 15
We have demonstrated that there are divergences and points of tension between different moralities, strategies and communities of practice. However, the coexistence of multiple modes of killing can also be productive (Law, 1994). The divergent ethical and practical priorities of different modes, and their simultaneous need to co-exist, mean that each community of practice challenges the others, and places checks and qualifiers on their activities. This can produce a rather eclectic assortment of management strategies – such as those that currently exist in relation to grey squirrels – but also means that new developments are often thoroughly scrutinised and debated. The competing philosophies of different modes also require governments, interest groups, and wider publics to continuously attend to, recognise, and articulate their values and aims, and negotiate with those of others. Wildlife management in the UK is not a streamlined process, centrally governed with a single end goal. Much is initiated and directed by private interests and civil society organisations, and existing policies are loosely and patchily arranged around a diversity of views, traditions and agendas. The challenge for those involved in developing future policy and strategy is not, however, to separate and evaluate different modes of killing against one another, either to choose between them or to seek consensus. Rather, it is to identify and deliberate on the feasibility, desirability and consequences of the multiple ‘ends’ (ultimate aims) of management, and then to consider how the various means of achieving these ends – including, but not limited to, killing – might be arranged to achieve them (Foucault, 2007). This is how we understand the import of biopolitics – to open up a space for public contestation rather than to assume human control over nature (Hinchliffe, 2017; Lemke, 2015). Practically, this will necessitate some degree of coordination between a currently diffuse collective of practitioners and decision-makers, to forge more direct, productive links between policy and practice. It should be noted that coordination does not, however, mean that there can be simple or single solutions, or that those coordinating their efforts will necessarily agree. Indeed, it may become apparent that some modes are fundamentally incompatible, and unsuited to shared strategies.
Despite this potential for disagreement and controversy, the existence of multiple modes can nevertheless prevent discussion about killing animals from becoming reduced to a binary question of ‘is this species killable or not?’, a problem which has caused other wildlife management debates to polarise and escalate (e.g. the persistent British conflict surrounding lethal control of badgers: see Cassidy, 2012). This is an incomplete and simplistic picture; killing practices are heterogeneous. Killing is contested, qualified, and rarely completely normalised: it is a troubling activity that requires constant reconsideration, appraisal, and understanding. Furthermore, killing practices cannot be considered in isolation: there is a need to understand modes of killing in relation to associated modes of producing and maintaining life. Consequently, no account of killing can assume that the question is ever simply ‘to kill or not to kill?’. In practice, the question is, ‘what kinds of killing are acceptable, practical, or even required, as means towards possible ends?’ We therefore propose that seeking out, articulating, and explicitly analysing the multiple ways in which wild life is killed and ‘made killable’ – as well as protected or made ‘un-killable’ – should form a fundamental component of wildlife management planning.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
We are sincerely grateful to The Wildlife Trusts for hosting the lead author on field visits and assisting with participant recruitment; to Confor UK for distributing our letter of invitation to their members; and to the Royal Forestry Society for accommodating the lead author at a members’ event. We are also grateful to three anonymous reviewers for their constructive comments and suggestions, and to Jamie Lorimer for helpful discussion about this research. Finally, we would like to thank all our participants for their time and contributions.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: SLC was supported by a scholarship from the University of Exeter.
Notes
References
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