Michigan Outdoor News
March 21, 2003
State's `cat fight' has
disputed points
By Tom Carney
Correspondent
Lansing ‑ Trying to get
a handle on the debate behind Michigan's "cougar controversy" is like
grabbing a tiger by the tail.
This beast is fueled by the
volatile mixture of scientific skepticism and "romantic
possibilities," a private conservation group confounded by the machinery
of a government agency, and biologists who hold disparate views on what exactly
constitutes "science."
At the taproot of the debate
there is no disagreement: both sides acknowledge that some large felines roam
freely in northern Michigan and the Upper Peninsula. The Michigan Wildlife
Conservancy (formerly the Michigan Wildlife Habitat Foundation) maintains it
has "proved the existence of a wild cougar population in Michigan through
a five‑year research effort." On the other hand, Ray Rustem, Natural
Heritage Unit supervisor for the Michigan Department of Natural Resources
(DNR), says the department "has recognized the existence of cougars in
Michigan, but the origin, distribution, and abundance are points of the
debate."
Actually, there is one
additional point of agreement. Spokespeople on both sides say this debate is
not an "us against them" proposition.
Though Dr. Pat Lederle, the
DNR's endangered species coordinator, calls that notion "ludicrous,"
it's clear to whom he refers when he calls the controversy "a figment of
their imagination."
Says Dennis Fijalkowski,
executive director of the Conservancy, "It's not about the DNR. It's about
the cougar, trying to save the cougar. We don't mean it to be controversial.
We're not trying to upstage" the DNR.
Mike DeCapita, regional
endangered species coordinator for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service says the
issue has become "needlessly contentious."
Truth bubbles up through
politics
The Conservancy and DNR hit
the ground running and immediately butted heads. The collision floods the
discussion with a torrent of pointed implications, sarcasm, and plenty of he
said/she saids.
For space considerations, a
small sample must suffice:
"Everyone has started to
get really heated and gravely serious about this issue, and I think it could
use a bit of levity and perspective," says Brad Wurfel, DNR press
secretary.
"I believe we very
likely have some cougar in Michigan, but it's most likely the subspecies
`Ownerus Dumpus Roadsideus.'
"I did not mean to seem
flip, but we've been biting our tongues here for a couple of years on this
issue with this group.
"I'm just saying there
are a lot of interesting questions and circumstances associated with this
controversy that are worth considering before one gets too caught up in the
swirl of romantic possibilities."
Fijalkowski says, "Most
of the people in the state who work with wildlife are ignorant on the issue.
They shouldn't be talking to the press about this."
Dr. Pat Rusz who conducted
the research for the Conservancy fires another round.
"Are there some DNR
people out there who would jerk people around? Yeah. There are also some good
ones. But we are in an atmosphere in the state where truth doesn't come out; it
has to bubble up through politics and people's own personal agendas."
He says the Conservancy did
not set out to embarrass the DNR, adding, "We had a natural resources
mystery and wanted to gain some insight into it."
Rustem compares this mystery
to, "a court case; it is the body of evidence that provides proof beyond a
reasonable doubt. The department does not believe that burden has been
met."
Rusz attributes that line of
thinking to "a bizarre twist of politics and media coverage. The burden of
proof somehow ended on us instead of on the skeptics where it should be. So
we've got hundreds of Michigan residents every year reporting what they've seen
to be cougars and being told they have seen something else. That we have gotten
to this point is a travesty."
Strip away the passion,
invective, and sensationalism that this controversy evokes, however, and at its
core you'll find the very matter Rustem and Dr. Rusz have introduced, the
validity of proof and the interpretation of evidence. Follow each river and
creek of discord far enough upstream, and it becomes clear they all flow from a
single source.
A campaign of deceit
During a two‑year
period (1998‑2000) Rusz and Fijalkowski looked into the topic of cougars
in Michigan. They were surprised to find the DNR maintained no central
repository of cougar sighting information, not even a single folder in the
DNR's files marked "Cougar." They were shocked to learn that
something as valuable as a plaster cast of a cougar print from 1966 had
apparently been taken home by a DNR biologist when he retired; they found it
tucked away in the attic of his garage in the U.P., they say.
"This is how they
collect evidence of one of the rarest life forms in Michigan," Fijalkowski
said.
Rusz prepared a 64‑page
report, "The Cougar in Michigan: Sightings and Related Information,"
a technical publication of the Bengal Wildlife Center, headquarters of the
Conservancy. On Dec. 8, 2000, the two shared a draft of the report with the
DNR's Rustem and Dr. Dale Rabe. In a Jan. 5, 2001 follow‑up letter to
Rabe, Fijalkowski reiterated the Conservancy's suggestions:
"We believe that we need
to develop a standardized data collection system for cougar information in
Michigan. We also feel that the department has to make it clear to the public
that the DNR position is not that all cougar sightings are released pets. The public
should also be reminded that cougars are protected under state wildlife law!
Lastly, a modest research effort of some kind to get a better idea of
Michigan's cougar numbers and movements would be advisable."
He alleges that at the
meeting, Rustem and Rabe found these suggestions "reasonable" and
that they subsequently told him their superiors had given the ideas a green
light.
On Jan. 4, 2001, Wildlife
Division Chief Rebecca Humphries sent Fijalkowski a letter of her own. In it
she mentioned an outcome of that December meeting, "some changes to
provide a more efficient system for reporting and maintaining (wildlife)
observations."
She then outlined what the
DNR would do:
1) Discuss with staff the
importance of maintaining good communications with the public, the status of
cougars in Michigan, and request information from field staff;
2) Develop public wildlife
reports at the department web site into a central collection system for
information and add cougar sightings as well as other important species;
3) Encourage reliable
reporting of cougar sightings;
4) Seek opportunities to
increase public understanding that cougars are protected under state's
endangered species regulation;
5) Offer the Conservancy or
any interested parties the opportunity to apply for Nongame Fish and Wildlife
grants program funds to conduct research.
Fijalkowski's interpretation:
"They said in December and certainly in that letter ‑ if it's not
stated outright it's implied ‑ that they will acknowledge the cougar population
and collect data in the manner that we asked."
Fast forward to March 2001.
The minutes of the Natural Resources Commission (NRC) meeting indicate that
both Fijalkowski's and Rusz's reports were received without comment or action.
Some folks, however, offer additional observations the minutes didn't catch.
"As I recall, one
commissioner did ask them, `What did that presentation have to do with
habitat?' " said George Burgoyne, resource management deputy for the DNR.
Fijalkowski remembers more.
"They not only
discredited our research but they didn't believe there was a cougar population.
To me that's a flip‑flop . These people cannot be trusted. Somebody at
the levels above the Wildlife Division is the architect of a campaign of deceit
to fool the public here."
Burgoyne says neither he,
Humphries, nor some members of her staff recall any "turn‑around"
in the Wildlife Division's position about cougars."
Fijalkowski recalls one more
notion the meeting minutes don't cover. "They told us to go out and prove
it, and that's when we decided to begin our own study."
The original document
prepared by Rusz and discussed at the NRC meeting is not a report on his personal
research. Rather, it was written before he conducted his field studies in the
summer of 2001. About half of the document details the natural history of
cougars, especially in the Great Lakes region. The other half, "Evidence
of Cougars in Michigan," presents a compilation of cougar sighting reports
from the 1930s to 2000. Two of the paper's conclusions: cougars exist in
Michigan and the majority are "not likely" escaped or released pets.
The Gold Standard
Fijalkowski mentioned this
paper in his Jan. 5 letter: "It is not our intention to discredit the
department or get into an argument publicly about this population. In that
regard, we would encourage you and your staff to provide comments on the
manuscript that Dr. Rusz has authored. We also would be happy to list you or a
department representative as a reviewer in the acknowledgements section of the
paper."
The proposal was familiar,
for in her letter of Jan. 4, Humphries had already written, "We
respectfully decline the opportunity to participate in the publication of this
report."
Humphries' letter continued:
"We have some concerns about the structure and presentation of data; we
suggest that you consider submitting it for publication in the Michigan
Academician, The Wildlife Society Bulletin, or another peer‑reviewed
journal."
Burgoyne said, "As a
former researcher, I too, would encourage that."
The Bengal Center published
this report, plus it's on the Conservancy's web site, so what's the big deal?
The DNR's Lederle says
succinctly, "Peer‑reviewed is the gold standard in scientific
information."
Mike DeCapita, the FWS
biologist, explains what happens when an author submits a paper to a peer‑reviewed
journal.
"The author does not get
to pick the reviewers or referees. In most cases, the author never learns the
identity of reviewers. This is important, because an anonymous reviewer does
not need to worry about politics or causing hard feelings. You can see why this
process is so important to science, and why we all should be very careful about
purported scientific information that has not been subjected to this type of
scrutiny."
Lederle summarizes, "I'm
sorry, but putting something on a web site is not publishing."
Adds DeCapita, "Anyone
can say or publish anything they want, call it anything they want. Doing so
does not make it sound science."
Barbara H. Blake, editor of
the Journal of Mammalogy says this: "Peer review is important, because it
ensures that a manuscript has been looked at by several other biologists in the
same (or a related) field who judge whether the research study was well done,
followed basic research principles, used appropriate statistics, and drew
reasonable conclusions from the data. It puts a stamp of approval on the
study."
Says Rusz, "This really
sticks in my craw. The standard scientific research format is for a scientist
to spend eight to 10 years in a lab coat then to emerge like Moses with the Ten
Commandments. This is in your face, take it to 'em research. We've taken
volunteers, teachers, students, reporters out there, and all our data is out
there for the public to see.
"Besides," he adds,
"it would probably be a $15,000 cost to me or someone if we were to submit
to journals."
Many journals do charge to
publish papers. Some, like the Journal of Mammalogy, will waive the charges if
finances are a problem.
"I don't think not
having funds for page charges is a very good reason for not publishing ‑
especially if it is a well‑designed and scientifically sound study,"
Blake says.
In a nutshell, then, peer‑reviewed
literature becomes the linchpin of the entire debate.
It's what prompts Wurfel to
say, "It's pretty clear that the line between science and hype has gotten
blurry . This is why the DNR has been trying to stay out of this conversation
for the past two years. There's just nothing of substance, as far as we're
concerned."
It's what provokes Rusz to
state clearly, "As far as our methodologies go, they're as scientific as
anything."
Next issue of Michigan Outdoor News: Evidence and Implications.