Critical Figures: Dr. Stephen Murphy

Currently, based out of the University of Waterloo Dr. Stephen Murphy leads the Conservation and Restoration Ecology research group (CaRE). Dr. Murphy, or Steve as he prefers to be called, is also editor in chief of Restoration Ecology, a journal central to the field of Ecology published by Wiley. The journal is “at the forefront of a vital new direction in science and ecology.” I chatted with Steve for this profile in May 2022 as a part of Living Observatory’s ongoing series of profiles on notable and important figures in restoration ecology. Steve has quite an astounding history, one that apart from his achievements in ecology includes a brief career as a studio musician, and stage hand at Queen’s concert at Live Aid. He has been involved with restoration ecology in a range of guises and degrees for many years nonetheless. I believe Steve’s propensity to fluidly incorporate big picture ideas, and specificity in his conceptual toolbox may help those of us - restoration practitioners, environmental stewards, and the like – who are new to restoration ecology gain our footing as we explore this new field. Steve’s insights may also serve as a reminder, especially for those more ‘weathered’ environmentalists who feel bemused and uninspired of the value in revisiting the simple, profound, and equally burgeoning questions of why we do what we do, and who we do it for.

Heather Cray (left) and Jonas Hamberg (right) are two memebers of the CaRE (Conservation and Restoration Ecololgy) research group headed by Dr. Murphy.

For a fair share of his life, Steve researched domains of physiology and biochemistry. Of course, not all things last and sometimes, as was this case, for good reason. As his career progressed, Steve found himself attending early meetings alongside established ecologists who at the time were working on the cusp of a new branch of ecology centered around “restoration” interventions rooted in ecological principles and processes. It was these meetings - compounded with volunteer opportunities, a curious predisposition, and an underlying motivation to take a love of gardening to ‘another level’ - which gradually began to shift Steve’s north star toward the unfamiliar, emerging field of restoration ecology. Since this redirection in the 80’s, Dr. Murphy has stayed true to this direction and continues to explore questions around restoration of abandoned agricultural fields and landscapes in urban and rural settings. Much of his research is more generally housed in the praxis of “translational ecology”, an approach that explores methods which encourage communication between ecologists, the public, stakeholders, and other decision makers. Steve adapts his eclectic mix of knowledge to help weave solutions at the intersection of sociological, ecological, and political contexts that shape the problems at hand.

Dr. Stephen Murphy doing work on the field

Although Steve has been engaged with restoration for many years, he shows no signs of slowing down. During our sit down he was quick to highlight broader questions that inspire him today. Namely, tensions around uncertainty and how restoration ecology approaches the reality that as restoration practitioners we can never be exactly certain of our context dependent interventions since we can never be sure of the climactic ‘future’ on the horizon 6] [7]. As we confront socio-environmental degradation at multiple scales and devise practices moving forward, we must recognize that restoration interventions must be adaptable, and flexible if they intend to be successful. Forecasting is hard, doubly so when dealing with complex systems composed of multiple actors (a topic Superforecasting written by Dan Gardner and Phillip E. Tetlock covers in depth). In a sort-of pragmatic fashion though Dr. Murphy outlines that when facing uncertainty one of the best things restoration practitioners can do is to combine anticipation with intervention. In short, it is best to approach to the application of restoration ecology with a contextually sensitive, growth mindset that looks to the future rather than to the

past. In the face of environmental uncertainty, Steve urges that we balance the commitment to action that is core to ecology's applied nature with the ability to step back and assess the field's assumptions and predictions. As Steve says, nature does not conform to rulebooks, and while to a certain degree we need guiding principles, we cannot convince ourselves of the false premise that we can “codify the uncodifiable”. In the long-term practitioners should understand that we are not, as Steve puts it, trying to “control everything.. or nature”.

To provide clarity on this conversation around adaptability and uncertainty, I find it helpful to utilize an analogy where we see the restoration practitioner as a chef. As our chef crafts a menu or an intervention,they understand that they cannot control everything that makes up the final meal. A chef cannot control the reliability of supply chains, or the available produce and ingredients, or the behavior of the staff from night to night, or the taste of the hungirly awaiting diners. The same goes for restoration practitioners who face uncertainties and complexity at multiple scales. Under complex, challenging circumstances the best chefs (or restoration practitioners) adapt their expectations, approaches, and methods to create extraordinary results. I believe this analogy hits quite close to home as restoration ecology moves into a post-covid era. In the face of a new normal restoration practitioners must address a host of challenges and vulnerabilities. The far reaching impact of COVID has sent public and private actors scrambling to redraw maps and reset their compasses for sustainable development (Bratton, revenge of the real, 2021). More than ever discussions around the importance of restoring and conserving urban greenspaces are taking the public stage front and center as it became increasingly clear that lower-income communities were often left in hostile, cramped, challenging urban jungles for months with little or no access to green space during the lockdowns of 2020 (see: Withrow 2021, Kirabuno, 2022 and SEI 2020). In a post Covid world, our image of truly just sustainable development and civil life is incomplete without restoring urban deserts and insuring access to clean, and healthy environments for all peoples. Considering this realization, we have been served a demanding night of service and a combined effort between restoration practitioners and policy makers could prove invaluable to a successful outcome

As our conversation progressed Steve highlighted that although rules should not be treated as sacrosanct, there are definitive pitfalls, and lapses in guidance within the praxis that hold severe consequences and should be heeded with consistency . For example, Steve emphasized that restoration ecology and Ecology writ large needs to direct more attention and resources toward developing criteria, and principles which recognize and address the legacy of environmental racism, discrimination, and lack of meaningful consultation toward BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color) communities and individuals(see, Waldron 2018). In short, restoration ecology cannot push interventions that stand on biological assumptions alone. The field’s practitioners need to confront how policy and politics are intertwined with interventions. We must consider how political ideology and influence shape funding of programs, preliminary research, and formulation of questions all the way down the pipeline to publishing and intervention. How to go about doing so is up for debate, but for a list of conventions we could build from are the Ten people-centered rules for socially sustainable ecosystem restoration (Elias, Marlène, et al., 2021).

As our conversation came to an end, Steve made it clear that while there is a lot at hand for restoration ecology, one need not look far for an idea of future directions. For instance, he was quick to highlight the potential impact of advances in technology, particularly in regard to remote sensing. Innovations in sensing technologies - such as those actively used and developed in the collaborations between LO and the Responsive Environments Group[11] at the MIT Media Lab – suggest that researchers, and others engaged in restoration can use data from these technologies to strengthen restoration methods and monitoring, and there by begin to tease out some of the inner workings of complex ecosystems. On the more social side, in a recent paper [12] [13] Steve mentioned that moving forward there ought to be, and already is in some respects, a resurgence of storytelling and art tied to restoration ecology. A central tenet of Living Observatory is exactly that. Using multiple technologies, LO researchers have consistently illustrated the process of becoming through documenting the “arc of change” as the landscapes transition from the retired cranberry farm landscape, to an active intervention, to a restored wetland. Progress in both the social and technological arms of restoration ecology may help make restoration ecology’s interventions function more effectively within complex social systems. Wrapping up, Steve illustrated that restoration ecology is resilient no matter the challenge because it is animated by a unique premise: a pan-generational promise of care for both living and nonliving beings of our planet, Earth, and beyond. It is this premise that drives Steve and other restoration practitioners to get out of bed and into the field on cold early mornings; and gives them the patience to collect data and the stamina to parse through copious amounts of information while they navigate challenges and pressures of the ecosystems they are working in.

LO Book Review: 3 Books to read on the beachfronts we are losing

There is no shortage of ecological disasters that occupy the imaginations of this generation. Among the most daunting catastrophes (i.e., threats of mass extinctions, melting icecaps,  ecological tipping points) there is a unanimous, global fear of rising seas. Cross culturally, our familiarity with the expressions of the apocalyptic are quickly becoming a central part of our lexicon. We evoke our apocalyptic prose and like Goya and paint the rising seas as the bidding of nature’s indifferent beast. Slowly, in a nightmarish way wild waters seep into the sacred places we hold dearest. Our minds are flooded, saturated with images of living rooms, barber shops, places of worship, cultural centers, cemeteries, playgrounds, schools being swept away. Slowly but surely our memories, our communities and the whole human endeavor fall to its ‘pre-destined’ fate, to fall to nature. Now, while I’m inclined to a romantic predisposition I would refrain from looking at disaster in this way. The ideas of apocalyptic prose leaves one wanting. There are tangible, cross species, multi habitat consequences to rising seas that only frank, honest documentation can reveal. This is why we need writers like Deborah Cramer, Robert Finch, and Andy Horowitz to put pen to paper. These writers in their respective books, which will be reviewed below, carefully demonstrate what is really at stake when growth and development goes unchecked, the concept of growth itself prioritized over the bigger life it is supposed to serve.

Deborah Cramer, The narrow edge

Cover of The Narrow Edge by Debroah Cramer

In an elegantly clear manner Cramer illustrates a tale of loss as old as time. With the knot, and horseshoe crab serving as the launching points for her exposition Cramer provides a glimpse into how shorebirds and marine life at large are put at risk of extinction as the overlapping pressures of development and sea level rise mount. As we follow the knot around the world Cramer unravels a complex, even at times mysterious picture of how ecosystems across the world are falling even more into a precarious state. As a good ecologist does Cramer outlines that establishing the critical conservation efforts needed to protect horseshoe crab and knots may be more complex than one may think. Shifting community behaviors is one thing but what does one do when entire medical markets , and international standards have been locked in around the use of horseshoe crab blood? It is often the case that whole ecosystems are put at risk in the name of critical human needs.

Slowly we are exposed to the blunt truth, with coastlines shrinking globally knots and other shorebirds are losing the critical seashores they use for rest, meanwhile the horseshoe crab is facing a similarly hard hand. The horseshoe crab is prized for its blue blood that serves an indispensable role in the medical field. Female horseshoe crabs are harvested en masse and bled at hospitals for Limulus Amebocyte Lysate (LAL) tests that check vaccines for signs of contamination from bacterial endotoxins. Without these invaluable tests receiving a vaccination would be a highly risky, even life-threatening procedure. For those crabs that live the nightmarish process of being bled and returned to the sea the crabs are often left emaciated, and easily become disoriented. As a result, horseshoe crabs cannot find the beaches where they lay their eggs, consequently reproduction rates have dramatically fallen. In turn the knot also suffers since they feed on the fatty, easily digestible eggs laid by the crabs. The success rate of horseshoe egg fertilization and hatching falls as well, because as knots dig their beaks into the sand they moisten what crab eggs they do not eat so the eggs do not dry.  Cramer continually draws our attention to statistics, and histories that tell us clearly – this vicious cycle is not getting any better. The dilemmas force us to reconcile with the fact that if we are to avoid mass extinctions in the face of sea level rise we must develop the capability to address our seemingly deep-rooted desires for innovation and its ecological consequences. Cramer gives us a handful of questions that must be answered, some being; is valuation of species even the right approach from the get-go, are there ways to balance innovations with ecosystem diversity and health? 

All in all, I would say that the narrow edge is a book best suited for conservation-ecology-minded folks, who are historically inclined. Cramer’s work in the narrow edge is heavily informed by drawing parallels to 150+ year old trends and her direct work with birders and conservation biologists who provide incredible insights. Ultimately, Cramer’s work – like that work of scientists’ who brave swamps, horseflies, and arctic tundra - is clearly the product of grueling effort from concerned citizens of the planet acting out of love.

Andy Horowitz, Katrina

Cover of Katrina by Andy Horowitz

Similar to the Narrow Edge, in Katrina Andy Horowitz seamlessly weaves together the personal, small scale with broad economic, and American history to uncover how, and why New Orleans was hit so hard by Hurricane Katrina. Katrina stands out in its balanced political commentary, and deep analysis of how policy choices on a 100-year timeline reverberate all along the class ladder with repercussions still felt to this day. As our cities fall to rising sea levels Horowitz makes the case that instead of shying away from our undeniable, wet reality we have the perfect chance to gaze into the waters and reflect on our wrongs, and in response act accordingly to restore what has been lost both societally and ecologically.

Horowitz uses dozens of case studies to illustrate humanity’s losses from development, sea level rise and disaster. Throughout Katrina Horowitz goes to great lengths to show both on map, photo and in oral history how wetlands and swamps, critical ecosystems valued for flood protection, had been paved over, drained, and developed by government programs, and oil companies who put short term interest and growth over long term well-being of the cities’ residents. One of the most intriguing elements of Katrina is how well Horowitz situates humanities role in environmental disaster. Inevitably he leads us to ask whether or not our living rooms would swell with water, whether the soils of parks be saturated with salt, or hospitals and schools fall to the sea if our decision makers, leaders, and publics looked towards ourselves as the major culprits of our own demise.  Horowitz consistently identifies a pattern where the shortsighted inclinations of poor governance and private markets are responsible for contributing to the most damage both before, during and after disasters. As opposed to looking at weather events as the driving forces responsible for breaches in canals, poorly built levees, and immature urban development Horowitz cleverly flips the history of disasters back at us. We cannot turn our backs to the reality that ultimately it was humanity who was responsible for the perfect storm of unimaginable losses and economic burdens the communities of New Orleans had to shoulder alone.

Something that adds to the poignancy of Horowitz’s work is that it is timely, in an almost unsettling way. The fate Horowitz so clearly spells out in his work is playing out in other states to this day. As I write this California has been hit with two ‘storms of the century’ within the span of weeks, and many experts are pointing to loss of key environmental buffers, and outdated 200+ year old storm and water management plans that are still in use as some of the major culprits for the unimaginable flooding. The reliance on outdated data and planning has driven hundreds of thousands from their homes and resulted in incomprehensible damage (does this sound familiar?). As we navigate precarious futures Horowitz prompts all of us in urban centers - not only those in New Orleans- to grasp what we have lost because of the often-short sighted decisions made in the name of development. Instead of looking at environmental catastrophe as something separate from and imposed on us, we should ask how we build, why we build, who we build for and on a material basis what we are building.  Horowitz’s work begs us to ask some hard-hitting questions; are disasters natural at all? What policy mechanisms are at play both before disaster, during and post-disaster? What belief systems and socio-economic norms influence development and our capacity to address hazardous weather events? Is there a way to develop safeguards for the unintended consequences of innovation?  

Robert Finch, The Outer beach

Cover of The Outer Beach by Robert Finch

                Compared to the other two books in this review, one might think that it’s hard to look toward the outer beach as work that outlines the issues of changing shorelines, development, and sea level rise. After all, Finch’s work here is highly personal and goes no further than his sole experiences and descriptions of Cape Cod over his lifetime. While this critique is fair I believe it is also the strongest point of this work. The Outer Beach serves as a moving oral account that recognizes that value of we have in light of what we know we will lose in the future. Amidst his lovely descriptions Finch knows that in 1000, or even 100 years we may not have these shorelines to cherish at all. In this regard I see the outer beach as work that serves as a historical and cultural touchstone. In a sense, Finch’s writing balances on the thin line of history and art, it operates in a way that music, theatre, dance, photography, and video do, his work is an undeniable loving nod to the ephemeral things we hold most closely in our hearts.

When I finally put the book down, I did find myself asking whether Finch’s work in the outer beach would have benefited by going more in depth. I asked whether he could have explored the pressing issues that are threatening the integrity of his dear coastline. Should Finch have written on ecological cascades, consequences of colonization and privatization, biodiversity loss or inland coastal marsh migration for example? I’m not certain, because if Finch opted to write on these issues we would likely be reading an entirely different book. I can confidently say nonetheless that the work does stand alone in a unique, honest, and humble way. Finch’s casual language, and natural approach to writing in a journal make the book all the easier to engage with. Additionally, since it is written as a collection of journal entries starting from Monomoy and ending in Long Point one can read all the stories from cover to cover in a non-linear way. Although Finch insists that his descriptions are written solely from his experiences walking the shoreline, through his writing I often felt transported to a seaside pub. At this dimly lit, quasi-corroding, local spot I might be sat with a sailor who tells me of his deep admiration for the sea as he recounts how the tides and waves molded the people, places, cultures, and wildlife he came across. Sailor Finch’s words would resemble the sea so closely that I could smell the salt punctuating each sentence. To be fair, I think that the fact that his work can transport me in such a way is proof that it is enough. I stand by the fact that Finch’s book should be a welcome addition to anybody’s library.

In sum, each book brings strong arguments and unique views to the table, all in their own distinct way. I believe the greatest differences between each work can be understood by looking at scale, style, and subject. While Horowitz, Cramer and Finch all consider the changing seas and patterns of development as the central theme of their books, they opt to develop their concerns around  unique subjects and utilize particular styles. Take for example, how Cramer expands on a more biological, ecologically centered narrative as opposed to Horowitz who prefers political history as his launch point. On the other hand, Ffinch matches causal journal entries with poetic, precise language to describe how his seaside world is changing around him. I can only say, with honesty, that in the end it is your reading that should make the final judgements. As we cozy up for the harshest and last leg of winter consider picking up some of these books and give them a read!        

Walking the Talk

A midday walk on Dinah Path with Chairlady and President of the Herring Pond Wampanoag Tribe, Melissa Ferretti

On December 10th, Living Observatory President Glorianna Davenport and Fellow Zane Elias met with Chairlady and President of the Herring Pond Wampanoag Tribe, Melissa Ferretti. The weather was quite grey, yet conversations between the three, guided by land and imagination, were enthusiastic and animated by lively prospects for collaboration. We would like to extend our deepest thanks to the Wampanoag Herring Pond Tribe for allowing us on the land, and to Melissa for making time in her busy schedule to walk with us share her stories and histories.

Melissa walking Dinah path.

As we walked, Melissa outlined a multitude of plans and projects for Dinah Path. From footpaths to be created, fallen trees to move, bridges to be renovated and educational boards set to go up. The land - already beautiful - has much in store. The Herring Pond Wampanoag Tribe aim to make Dinah Path publicly accessible as a place where people can gather outdoors for leisure and recreation, while simultaneously have it serve as a space for cultural and educational events, such as Pow wows. Pow wows are gatherings either held privately or publicly, wherein Indigenous tribes celebrate and honor tradition through dance, song, ritual, and food. Melissa extended the prospect that the land could also be the center piece for native plant identification workshops. Melissa highlighted that it’s through activities like these that they practice an ideal valued by the Wampanoag Herring Pond Tribe, that of being “good neighbors.” Further, through these activities the public get the chance to learn critical, foundational histories and lessons that foster a mindset in line with the harmonious co-existence between nature and reconciliation.

Dinah Path has major historical significance. The 6-acre parcel of land is an increment of the original “great lot”, a parcel of land which was approximately 2,600 acres that originally belonged to the Wampanoag Herring Pond Tribe before it was drawn up on maps, taxed and bordered by settlers. The land is imbued with cultural and historical implications for the tribe. On site is a burial ground officially dating back to the early 1800s. Currently, only a handful of graves belonging to Herring Pond Wampanoag members have been identified. Yet Elders’ testimony, environmental features (such as dips in topsoil,) and historical records point at as many as 50 tribe members at rest on the site - a conservative estimate. Further, written historical records do not recognize the fact that the site was active well before cultures of burial were practiced. In this case the cultural relevance of the burial site may date farther back than the early 1800’s. As we read tombstones, Melissa emphasized that there is still work to be done with LIDAR and GIS to further identify the other graves. Yet, for those who they have identified it is reassuring to know they are at rest, and home.

Beyond the broader cultural significance for the Wampanoag Herring Pond Tribe, the land also brings back fond memories for its individual members. As we passed through a dense cluster of sugar pine, Melissa recalled how in childhood her mother would task her with collecting pine so together they could smoke herring caught from the river. As Melissa recalled how the sugar pine embellished the fish with its distinct flavors, she highlighted that this activity, among many others, of her youth was what her mother would call “living off the fat off the land.”

There is much left that could be said about the walk and new avenues for collaboration. But how better to talk, than to walk the talk? Living Observatory is enthusiastic about the opportunity to work with the Wampanoag Herring Pond Tribe in future collaborations. Be sure to keep eyes peeled and ears sharp for a short video on the walk and what is to come with the new year.

Melissa (left) and Glorianna (right) at the entrance to Dinah Path.