Megafauna —

First Victims of the Human-Caused Extinction
Baz Edmeades
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Introduction

Just to absorb the fact that these great Serengetis existed…

Mammoths, giant deer, woolly rhinos and many other kinds of now-extinct big animals lived in Europe until about fourteen thousand years ago. Human artists created a loving and comprehensive record of them, exemplified, most memorably, by the famous cave paintings of France and Spain. Many present-day humans are aware, for this reason, that “big game” of this kind lived in Europe. Most are still unaware, though, that similar collections of “megafauna” lived on all the earth’s continents except Antarctica around the time those paintings were being made.

Up to about thirteen thousand years ago the Americas were, for instance, inhabited by an astonishingly diverse community of big animals and birds. That community included species that most people don’t associate with the New World, like cheetahs, camels and elephants. It’s not enough, though, to say “the Americas were inhabited by elephants,” because that statement conveys no idea of how many kinds of elephants were living on those two continents. Between them, North and South America were inhabited by no less than seven elephant or “proboscidean” species.

These proboscideans shared the prairies, pampas, and forests of the continental New World with more than twenty species of ground-sloth. The largest of these ground-sloth species – members of the genera Megatherium and Eremotherium – approached the size of present-day African elephants. The biggest of the American elephant species, the Columbian mammoth, was, however, even larger than these “supergiant” ground-sloths.

Our detailed knowledge of these lost New World giants (and, indeed, of all the planet’s recently-vanished megafauna) stems, as one might expect, mainly from fossilized bones. The animals in question existed so recently, however, that their bones barely deserve to be called fossils. They’re not nearly as mineralized as dinosaur bones, and are augmented, in many instances, by flesh, skin, hair and feces. “Sub-fossil” remains of this kind tell us that north Asia was also inhabited by a “Serengeti” of big animals until about thirteen thousand years ago. The Siberian Serengeti included the same mammoth species that inhabited Europe, as well as two grass-eating rhinoceros species – the “woolly” kind which extended (like the Eurasian mammoth) into Europe, and the huge Elasmotherium sibiricum which we’ll take a closer look at in Chapter 4.

Australia was another big-animal paradise. It was home to more than a dozen species larger than the 200 lb. red kangaroo which is presently that subcontinent’s biggest indigenous mammal. Among them were marsupials roughly equivalent to lions and rhinoceroses, as well as huge birds and reptiles. This extraordinary community of marsupial, reptilian and avian giants started disappearing about forty-five thousand years ago – somewhat further back in time, then, than its Eurasian and American counterparts, but still only yesterday in the evolutionary scheme of things.

Within the last fifty thousand years, therefore, – the blink of an eye – a world-wide chain of big-animal communities, comprised of literally hundreds of species, suddenly vanished from the earth.

* * *

Just to absorb the fact that these great Serengetis existed – and existed so recently – is already to wonder what could have happened to them. The Nineteenth Century paleontologists who first became aware of them, concluded that they’d been wiped out by another newly-discovered phenomenon: the Ice Age. As we’ve learned more about the Ice Age, however, (and about paleontology) it has become clear to many observers that the diversity of the earth’s large-animal species was as little affected by the “last Ice Age,” – i.e. the last glaciation – as it was by the approximately nine previous glaciations that have taken place over the last million years. We’ve had to ask ourselves, therefore, whether some other potentially destructive process was taking place between ten thousand and fifty thousand years ago – a disturbance that might, unlike a glaciation, have been a “one-time” occurrence.

There is, it happens, a strong candidate for that “one-time” kind of upheaval: the migration out of Africa of Homo sapiens. Sapiens made its first appearance in each of the regions from which a “Serengeti” disappeared, a relatively short time before that disappearance took place. It had started spilling out of Africa somewhere between 100,000 and 70,000 years ago, reaching Australia perhaps 55,000 years ago, Europe around 40,000 years ago, Siberia some 30,000 years ago, and the New World some time after that. Except in the case of Europe, which was already occupied by H. neanderthalensis, those new territories hadn’t been occupied by hominids of any kind prior to the arrival of our species. (Like Europe, the southern parts of Asia were already inhabited by hominid emigrants which had left Africa long before sapiens did.)

The fact that each of the vanished Serengetis disappeared relatively soon after our species settled in the area in which it lived, raises, in itself, a strong suspicion that Homo sapiens was responsible for those disappearances. For some observers of this phenomenon, that suspicion has hardened into certainty. As far back as 1987, the late Isaac Asimov had already, in his Beginnings book, dismissed this issue as “a silly thing to argue over”:

Of course human beings were responsible. Even if human beings didn’t actively hunt the animals to death, which I bet they did, they gradually took up the living space. Large animals are particularly vulnerable under such conditions. They require a great deal of food and, therefore, a great deal of space within which to find their food. They are relatively few in number, at best. They grow slowly, and have few young and those at comparatively long intervals.

Speaking specifically about the destruction of the North American Serengeti, John Alroy, a research biologist with the National Center for Ecological Analysis and Synthesis at Santa Barbara, expressed the same conclusion in more academic but equally emphatic language in 1999:

My own position is that the overkill [of the North American megafauna by humans]...has been “proven” as thoroughly as any historic hypothesis can be. All of the key evidence was available years ago, and all of it firmly refutes competing, ecologically-oriented hypotheses. The event’s timing, rapidity, selectivity and geographic pattern all make good sense according to the anthropogenic model, and no sense at all otherwise. To my eyes, this assessment is so clear that further “tests” are not really necessary.

If the “humans did it” explanation has been proved, however, as conclusively as these two observers think it has, then why aren’t people talking about of it? Why are so few members of the conservation or environmental movements aware of the vanished Serengetis? And why, finally, do some of the people who do know about them – specialists, in many cases, like paleontologists and museum curators – still cling to the intellectually untenable belief that they were destroyed by climate change associated with “the Ice Age”?

* * *

The reason why the story of the vanished Serengetis and their destruction by humans hasn’t found its way into the general consciousness, is that it contradicts just about everything we think we know about our species. To many of us it’s still “obvious” that the first humans to settle the Americas and Australia – the “native” or “aboriginal” inhabitants of those continents – lived in harmony with the natural world. It’s widely assumed, in fact, that no members of Homo sapiens wiped out other species before the industrial revolution. Just to conceive of the possibility that our species might have destroyed the vanished Serengetis would, therefore, require an entirely different conception of human ecological history.

That new history would start with the currently unfashionable fact that members of the human family had already learned to hunt animals larger than themselves as far back as the Late Pliocene. It would go on to tell us that, during the early Pleistocene, some 1.4 million years ago, the technological capabilities of one hominid species – Homo erectus – had already became formidable enough to cause the extinction of several big-animal species in Africa and South Asia. It would describe how the growth of those technological capabilities would accelerate toward the end of the Pleistocene, enabling our species, Homo sapiens, to enter Australia, Northern Eurasia, and the New World, where it would encounter, and exterminate, a great many big animal, reptile and bird species which had not – in contrast with the big animals of Africa and South Asia – had the opportunity to develop a measure of resistance against the growing ingenuity of the hominid family.

This new history of our species would inform us, further, that an unbroken flow of human-caused extinctions was to continue after the end-Pleistocene destruction of the Australian, European, North Asian and American Serengetis, and that this flow would swell, in the last century or two, into the enormous mass-extermination which our species is presently inflicting on the biosphere.

It would suggest, finally, that the phenomenon of human-caused mass-extinction was not set in motion by cruelty, greed or thoughtlessness on the part of our species. The first humans to arrive in Australia didn’t want to wipe out the marsupial “rhinos” and “lions” they met up with on that island continent, nor did they even know that they were doing it. To a large extent, present-day humans still lack the consciousness needed to control their impact on the natural world, and it’s by no means impossible that the destructive impact of our species will turn out to be an unstoppable and inevitable process – the price that is paid, for all we know, in every biosphere where a level of intelligence equal to ours develops.

If humans do, however, develop the ability to control their impact on the biosphere while there’s still something worthwhile to save, they will do so through the acquisition of knowledge and awareness. Ecological salvation appears to depend, therefore, on the same phenomenon that initiated the current mass-extinction: the power of the human intellect. Before it can work effectively, however, toward stopping the extinction-spasm which it’s causing, that intellect will have to free itself of the myths which currently becloud its understanding of the biodiversity crisis, and acquaint itself with the real ecological history of its possessors.

 

PART 1


Humans and their hominid ancestors have been exterminating big-animal species for a much longer period of time than we could, until recently, have imagined.

 

 

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