Kristina Simonaityte
History and Novelty in Ecological Restoration in the Southwest of Western Australia: A Discourse Analysis
MSC THESIS WUR 2016
WAGENINGEN UNIVERSITY FOREST AND NATURE CONSERVATION POLICY GROUP
History and Novelty in Ecological Restoration in the Southwest of Western Australia: A Discourse Analysis
MSc Thesis
by
KRISTINA SIMONAITYTĖ 910216763170
Under the Supervision of PROF. DR. ESTHER TURNHOUT
March 2016 Acknowledgements
Working on this thesis has afforded me an opportunity to further my understanding of restoration ecology, but more importantly it has introduced me to the social aspect of what it means to do restoration. It is not just faceless management documents or green protective tubes on the hillsides, but it is also people who plan and plant, who are first and foremost optimistic, passionate and extremely knowledgeable about the pieces of land they are trying to recover. The time spent in Perth, Western Australia doing my fieldwork was very inspiring. Given the format of the thesis report I could not illuminate all of these experiences and encounters or provide detailed descriptions of the sites I visited (or what course of actions and coincidences have led me there). Here, however, I would like to briefly recognise some of the people who supported my work and were essential in this thesis seeing the light of day.
First of all, I would like to thank all of my interviewees for their time and their words, but also, at times, an extraordinary interest in my research, which I found really motivating. I give my thanks to my thesis supervisor prof. dr. Esther Turnhout whose comments were invaluable to keep my report on track, while I found our discussions on the topic very thought-provoking and revealing of new perspectives. I also want to acknowledge dr. Marleen Buizer whose advice was key at the beginning stages of the project, both regarding my topic as well as fieldwork in Perth. My time in Perth would have been significantly less special and productive if not for the kindness, encouragement and all around support by Catherine and also Jane (and their beautiful families), as well as Joe, Christina, Pawel, and Katherine. I also want to give a shout-out to the awesome people at MERG and all the amazing work they are doing in Banksia Woodland Reserve, Melaleuca Swamp and elsewhere. I also thank my friends in Wageningen for their endless patience when for months I could not talk about anything else but Australia and provenance and weeding. Last but not least, this thesis project would never have happened without the guidance and care of my family, especially my mum, dad, my brother and my grandmother, who all contributed in one way or another. Ačiū, brangieji. I dedicate this thesis to them.
I would like to acknowledge that Murdoch University, where I stayed and carried out my research, is situated on the lands of the Whadjuk Noongar people. I pay respect to their enduring and dynamic culture and the leadership of Noongar elders both past and present.
March 22, 2016
Kristina Simonaitytė [email protected]
i Summary
Ecosystems all over the world have been directly or indirectly affected by human-driven activities: climate change, habitat loss, weed invasion, disease and so on. Some of these ecosystems have been degraded to such an extent that it requires active assistance to instigate their recovery. The importance of this practice – ecological restoration – has grown tremendously over the last few decades, taking on many forms and involving many different actors. Greater attention to restoration has unsurprisingly led to many of its concepts being questioned, contested and re-articulated. While traditionally restoration has been seen as a practice to bring back, to restore the original, historical, complete ecosystems, nowadays with the growing recognition of the severity and inevitability of many environmental changes, including the on-going anthropogenic climate change, this key tenet of restoration is being extensively challenged. In restoration theory, novel ecosystems has presented the best developed counter-discourse to the dominant discourse of historical state restoration. Novel ecosystems focus on systems with not-seen-before combinations of species and biophysical conditions, and also on the delivery of ecological functions rather than recombination of past species assemblages, when it comes to restoration objectives. Novel ecosystems also appear to primarily pursue critique of historical restoration and its impracticality and unsustainability in the changing world with hard to define original ecosystem conditions. Critics of the concept in turn consider novel ecosystems as arguing for abandoning traditional restoration practices and conservation goals, and providing rationale for further ecosystem degradation. As a result, restoration is in flux, all the while its importance is only increasing and question of what to restore to is becoming more and more crucial, but also more complex. This applies not only to the restoration theory, but also to the practice: large proportion of ecological restoration exists beyond academia, and in practice restoration objectives are also shifting, but are little studied. This calls for a greater understanding of the knowledge and concepts (the basis of restoration discourses) articulated and manifesting in the two domains – this was also the objective and contribution of this study.
This thesis thus by employing discourse analysis examined, first, the discourses underpinning the current debates in restoration theory, secondly, the discourses manifesting and guiding restoration practice, and thirdly, the similarities and differences between the two sets of discourses. In addition to outlining the struggles between the hegemonic discourse of historical state restoration and counter- discourse of novel ecosystems, as mentioned above, the literature analysis also showed the emergence of the third discourse, history-as-guide, which treats history less as a target, but more as an information source. Not actually a fully-fledged counter-discourse, history-as-guide could also be seen as an upgrade
ii to historical state restoration, leading to the latter’s eventual re-articulation as a more realistic and practical restoration discourse, which is informed both by the past and future considerations.
As for the restoration practice, I chose the Perth metropolitan area, Western Australia as a study setting. Perth is situated in the Southwest Australia Ecoregion, which is one of the 35 global biodiversity hotspots and the only one in Australia. Majority of its mega-diversity has, unfortunately, been lost to various causes, mostly anthropogenic, since the European settlement of the area less than 200 years ago. Large number and variety of restoration-type activities is being carried out in Perth to counteract these degradation trends, with many different actors involved in the processes. The southwest has also been experiencing dramatic shifts in climate, primarily reduced precipitation, which also impacts restoration practice, among other things. I was interested in the discourses manifesting in the planning and doing parts of the restoration. Based on the analysis it appears that both are largely underpinned by historical state restoration discourse, persuasively articulated through nostalgic, restoring “what should be here” objectives. The major focus of restoration practice in the southwest was on the protection and recovery of the native, local provenance species; reliance on historical species lists in lieu of restoration reference state; opposition to bringing in non-natives from more arid areas to respond to climate change; insistence on removing all non-native invasive weeds already present; and shifts in traditional (non)watering regime to ensure better survival of (historical) plantings.
Some concessions to historical state are evident, however. These include, for example, prioritisation of the weeding based on the available resources and species effect on the environment; outsourcing to non-local provenance due to lack of plant material within the provenance (while still sticking to the native species); and supplementary watering itself. Given the fact that all these measures are taken to ensure continued preservation of the local genetic material in the light of changing environmental conditions, and thus enabling historical restoration, they fit well under history-as-guide discourse. Novel ecosystems in turn were articulated by the interviewed academics, who saw the approach as practical and realistic; in theory overall “being practical” was articulated as a critique to an ideological commitment to restoring historical state. In the eyes of the practitioners and volunteers, conversely, “being practical” became a way to make the historical state restoration discourse actionable, thereby reinforcing its hegemonic position – though with slight modifications of history-as-guide.
iii Table of Contents Acknowledgements ...... i Summary ...... ii Figure list ...... v Chapter 1. Introduction ...... 1 1.1. Restoration in flux ...... 1 1.2. Historical vs. novel ecosystems debate: background ...... 2 1.3. Problem statement ...... 3 1.4. Research setting: Perth metropolitan area ...... 4 1.5. Chapter outline ...... 5 Chapter 2. Theoretical framework ...... 7 2.1. Discursive approach...... 7 2.2. Articulation of challenges to hegemonic discourses ...... 10 2.3. Research objective...... 12 2.4. Research questions ...... 12 Chapter 3. Methods ...... 14 3.1. Data collection ...... 14 3.1.1. Literature analysis ...... 14 3.1.2. Semi-structured interviews ...... 15 3.1.3. Participant observation and other exchanges ...... 17 3.2. Data analysis ...... 18 Chapter 4. Perth metropolitan area and restoration activities ...... 19 4.1. Historical setting ...... 20 4.2. Ecological setting ...... 23 4.3. Need for restoration and current status of restoration activities ...... 24 4.4. Why is it a good case study?...... 25 Chapter 5. Results ...... 26 5.1. Contesting restoration: literature analysis ...... 26 5.1.1. Definition of restoration ...... 26 5.1.2. History as a target: from traditional practice to mission impossible ...... 28 5.1.3. Novel ecosystems: a cluster of criticisms ...... 29 5.1.4. History-as-guide ...... 33 5.1.5. Conclusion ...... 35 5.2. Academic interviews ...... 37 5.3. Planning restoration ...... 42 5.3.1. Goals of restoration projects in the Perth metropolitan area ...... 42
iv 5.3.2. Obstacles to bringing back the past ...... 46 5.3.3. Reference and species lists ...... 48 5.3.4. Provenance for genetic integrity ...... 50 5.3.5. Climate change and the future of restoration ...... 55 5.3.6. Conclusion ...... 59 5.4. Doing restoration ...... 61 5.4.1. Planting ...... 61 5.4.2. Weeding ...... 64 5.4.3. Watering ...... 70 5.4.4. Conclusion ...... 73 Chapter 6. Conclusions ...... 75 6.1. Discourses underlying restoration theory and practice ...... 75 6.2. Revisiting the research questions ...... 79 Chapter 7. Discussion ...... 81 7.1. Wider restoration debates ...... 81 7.2. Reflection on the theoretical framework ...... 86 7. 3. Reflection on the methods and limitations of the study ...... 87 References ...... 90 Appendices ...... 97 Appendix 1. List of journal articles used in literature analysis ...... 97 Appendix 2. List of interviews and fieldnotes ...... 99 Appendix 3. Topic list for the semi-structured interviews ...... 100 Appendix 4. Vegetation condition scales for natural area assessment ...... 101 Appendix 5. Maps ...... 102
Figure list
Figure 1 Articulation of a challenge (C) to a hegemonic discourse (DH) ...... 11 Figure 2 Theoretical framework combining all the key elements and assumptions of the research project. .. 13 Figure 3 Plaque in front of the Perth Town Hall, Barrack Street ...... 19 Figure 4 Sign informing about dune revegetation at City Beach...... 20 Figure 5 Rehabilitation on Rottnest Island, Western Australia ...... 22 Figure 6 Jarrah forest rehabilitation at Alcoa’s Huntly mine ...... 22 Figure 7 Marri planted in June 2014. Wireless Hill ...... 52 Figure 8 Plantings in Banksia Woodland reserve...... 63 Figure 9 Weeding of gladioli in Banksia Woodland reserve ...... 64 Figure 10 Restoration discourses in literature (a) and practice (b)...... 77
v Under this site was a swamp
The waters remain
only run deeper still
– Plaque at Perth Railway Station (from Nandi Chinna’s “Swamp”)
(…)
Better than dwelling
And chasing time
Missing occasions
I can't rewind
(…)
They all say that nothing ever changes
Through the new lines that are on their faces
(…)
– Troye Sivan, “Suburbia” (about Perth)
When asked if I am pessimistic or optimistic about the future, my answer is always the same: If you look at the science about what is happening on earth and aren’t pessimistic, you don’t understand data. But if you meet the people who are working to restore this earth (…), and you aren’t optimistic, you haven’t got the pulse.
What I see everywhere in the world are ordinary people willing to confront despair, power and incalculable odds in order to restore some semblance of grace, justice and beauty to this world.
– Paul Hawkens, Commencement 2009, University of Portland (heard at Keith Roby’s memorial lecture at Murdoch University, October 20, 2015)
vi Chapter 1. Introduction
1.1. Restoration in flux
Anthropogenic impact on ecosystems, over the last few centuries in particular, has been so ubiquitous (Waters et al. 2016) that it requires both new ways of understanding this new ecological reality as well as tools to manage it (Crutzen 2006; Keulartz 2012; Morse et al. 2014). Human activities have directly and indirectly impaired many ecosystems to such extent that they are not self-sustaining and conservation is no longer an option (Young 2000; SER 2004). To address the loss and degradation of these systems scientists, planners and practitioners have increasingly been turning to ecological restoration. The practice is considered to have an immense potential to instigate recovery of many valuable species and habitats, while also improving human well-being (SER 2004; MA 2005; Keenleyside et al. 2012). Restoration has long been recognised as not only ecological but also social and value-laden phenomenon, especially when it comes to the objectives of the practice (Choi 2007; Egan, Hjerpe & Abrams 2011; Perring et al. 2015).
Although the early environmental philosophy debate of whether ecosystems should be at all restored or not (Katz 1992; Elliot 2000; Higgs 2000) has subsided, one of its key messages remains on the agenda. Restoration is perceived by some as a rationale for continuing environmental destruction: popular belief that no net biodiversity loss can be ensured through restoration activities is feared to provide basis for greenlighting various development projects (Maron et al. 2012). In contrast, some authors have proposed that (participation in) restoration activities can strengthen connection to and appreciation of nature, leading in turn to reduction of destructive activities (Baker, Eckerberg & Zachrisson 2013). Moreover, over the last few decades the concept of ecological restoration as a whole has broadened and now encompass a spectrum of human interventions – from wise management to construction of synthetic ecosystems – primarily differing in their goals (Mitsch & Jørgensen 2004; Choi 2007).
Consequently, restoration has entered public and mainstream environmental policy discussions; unfortunately this has also often led to rather misjudged expectations of what the practice can actually deliver (Hobbs 2007; Hobbs et al. 2011; Aronson & Alexander 2013). Moreover, growing recognition of the legacies of the past environmental changes and increasing accuracy of future climatic change predictions has left both restoration theory and practice in a state of flux (Clewell & Aronson 2013). This in turn is necessitating a better understanding of the concepts and knowledge behind the restoration objectives to ensure that the latter align both with ecological realities as well as social values. As a result, the question of defining the goals of restoration – i.e. what to restore to – has become very prominent
1 (Ehrenfeld 2000; Hobbs 2007; Hallett et al. 2013). It has also been hotly contested in the context of changing environmental conditions, and the rise of climate change adaptation and ecosystem services narratives (see, for example, Pickett & Parker 1994; Aronson, Dhillion & Floc’h 1995; Hobbs et al. 2006; Murcia et al. 2014; Higgs et al. 2014 among others). The contestations relating to, among others, reference state, ecological thresholds, non-native species and ecological functions as goals have been articulated in historical state and novel ecosystems debate, where the traditional “return to an original state” (Bradshaw 1996 p. 3) restoration discourse clashes with the ideas advocated by novel ecosystems proponents.
1.2. Historical vs. novel ecosystems debate: background
Ecological restoration has traditionally been seen as a recreation of historical ecosystems that have been “degraded, damaged, or destroyed” (Bradshaw 1996; SER 2004 p. 3; Jordan & Lubick 2011; Hobbs et al. 2014). Historical reference state is subsequently considered one of the key tenets of ecological restoration (Balaguer et al. 2014; Higgs et al. 2014). Delineation of this historical state, however, is not an easy task. Often damage to the ecosystem is not only severe, but has also been going on for a prolonged period of time, thus few records of the pre-disturbed state remain, whereas contemporary remnants in a different location might not accurately represent the historic community at the site being restored (Harker et al. 1999; Perrow & Davy 2008; Galatowitsch 2012). In addition, there are often discussions about which stage along the ecological trajectory should be selected as a reference in the first place: the one that existed (or is thought to have existed) several decades or hundreds or – instead – thousands of years in the past (Harker et al. 1999; Egan & Howell 2001).
As a result, rationale behind historical state as a restoration target has been widely questioned (Pickett & Parker 1994; Harker et al. 1999; Choi 2007; Jackson & Hobbs 2009; Hobbs, Higgs & Harris 2009 inter alia). In response to these criticisms and in recognition of both the magnitude of human impact on the environment and the inevitability of climate change a new concept – novel ecosystems – has emerged (Hobbs et al. 2006). The main idea of this concept is that many ecosystems have passed the ecological thresholds and cannot be reverted back to their original state (Hobbs et al. 2006; Choi 2007; Jackson & Hobbs 2009). Attempting historical state restoration1 is not necessarily sustainable or practical and, in view of rapidly changing climate and other conditions, likely not worth pursuing (Cairns 1988; Pickett & Parker 1994; Hobbs et al. 2006). Thus the objective of restoration shifts to novel ecosystems – ecosystems that have never been seen before and are new in terms of species composition and abiotic conditions (Hobbs et al. 2006). Instead of attempting to bring back the historical communities, the
1 In this thesis historical state restoration and historical restoration will be used interchangeably, unless stated otherwise
2 focus is on restoring particular functions of the ecosystems, especially those that would provide the greatest benefits to human well-being (Hobbs, Higgs & Harris 2009; Hobbs et al. 2014; Simberloff & Vitule 2014; Balaguer et al. 2014).
The concept has also received considerable criticism: biodiversity as well as cultural and aesthetical values of these systems have been seriously questioned (Putz & Redford 2009; Bullock et al. 2011; Clewell & Aronson 2013; Palmer, Filoso & Fanelli 2014). Overall, opponents see novel ecosystems as a threat to the valuing of historical systems and to the traditional conservation objectives, as well as an invitation for continued destruction of environment (Murcia et al. 2014; Aronson et al. 2014).
1.3. Problem statement
Significant critique of the concepts of both historical restoration and novel ecosystems unsurprisingly invites questions about the shifts in restoration narrative and what it means for articulation of restoration objectives befitting the ecological and social realities of the 21st century. The importance of these theoretical debates on the setting of restoration objectives in a changing environment becomes apparent when one considers the rapid growth of restoration in international arena. Bonn Challenge, for example, is a pledge by world governments to globally restore 150 million hectares of forest by 2020 (Global Partnership on Forest and Landscape Restoration 2013). Ecological restoration has also been included in the key international environmental policy agreements intended to address the rapidity and extent of planetary changes. Both the UN Strategic Plan for Biodiversity 2011-2020 and the EU Biodiversity Strategy to 2020 mention restoration of at least 15 per cent of degraded habitats among their targets (European Commission 2011; CBD Secretariat 2014); terrestrial, freshwater and marine ecosystem restoration also features in the new UN Sustainable Development Goals to be achieved by 2030 (UN 2015). In all these documents the stated aims of ecological restoration are biodiversity protection, provision of ecosystem services, and healthy and productive systems. These targets do not imply any reference or baseline, and documents lack clear definition of restoration itself – for progress towards the outlined targets to be measurable these issues will need to be addressed (Jørgensen 2013). This vagueness thus only further encourages the discussion regarding the objectives and reference states of restoration projects – both from ecological and socio-economic perspectives.
Given such developments, understanding of the concepts and knowledge used by the different actors involved in ecological restoration is of great interest. One key assumption is that although scientific expertise is often invoked when dealing with complex issues (see, for example, Gupta 2004; Jasanoff 2005; Simberloff & Vitule 2014), the actual role of scientific advisers is not easily defined (Spruijt et al. 2014). Moreover, while a number of studies have been done on (long-term) volunteers, they have
3 focused mainly on the health, social and other benefits of the restoration activities to those volunteering (Miles, Sullivan & Kuo 2000; Schroeder 2000; Bramston, Pretty & Zammit 2011, inter alia). Significantly less is known about the volunteer effect on restoration, the knowledge they bring to or develop during the projects as well as cross-fertilisation of this knowledge between them and the other actors (Buizer, Kurz & Ruthrof 2012). For example, in restoration projects scientific method is often exchanged for a more efficient “trial and error” approach (Cabin 2007). This then raises a question (in addition to others) about how much the formal science and practice align, including whether the concepts dominant in academia play a role in the on-the-ground activities. For example, while the discourse of historical ecosystem as a target has been conspicuous in the literature since the earliest days of the discipline, in practice, however, such faithful recreations, executed by professionals and community volunteers, seem to be less prominent (Hallett et al. 2013). Same could be assumed about the novel ecosystems discourse. Although it is considered to influence not only science but also conservation policy, mainly through the language shared with storylines of ecosystem services (Aronson, Dhillion & Floc’h 1995; Murcia et al. 2014; Aronson et al. 2014), question remains whether and to what extent this actually translates into practice.
While increased focus on novel ecosystems and restoration for ecosystem services is feared to be a rationale for further ecosystem degradation by some (Ehrenfeld 2000; Murcia et al. 2014; Higgs et al. 2014), approach of bringing back the past is also criticised as impractical and short-sighted in the changing world with hard to define original ecosystem conditions (Choi 2007; Choi et al. 2008; Aradottir & Hagen 2013). At the same time, however, the importance of restoration is increasing and question of what to restore to is becoming more and more crucial, but also more complex both in theory and in practice. Thus restoration is in flux, as illustrated by the extensive scientific debates. Moreover, large proportion of ecological restoration exists beyond academia – in practice restoration objectives are also shifting, but are little studied. This calls for a greater understanding of the knowledge and concepts (forming the basis of restoration discourses) used by the other involved actors, such as practitioners and volunteers, as it is these concepts that are translated into actual restoration activities on the ground.
1.4. Research setting: Perth metropolitan area
For my project I have chosen to study ecological restoration practices in the southwest Western Australia (WA), primarily focusing on the Perth metropolitan area2. Southwest is a region noted for its mega-diversity and high endemism of vascular plants, but also alarming rates of loss of habitats and
2 A planning term used to describe Perth region in Western Australia (similar to Perth Statistical Division as per Australian Bureau of Statistics). Perth and Perth metropolitan area will be used in the report interchangeably. Not to be confused with City of Perth, which is one of 30 local governments contained in the Perth metropolitan area. 4 species due to prolonged human-caused environmental degradation (see Chapter 4 for more). While other locations with prominent restoration activities could have also been suitable for the study, the selection of Perth specifically can be justified by a number of reasons. First of all, restoration projects of many different types are being carried out in the region, from mining rehabilitation to restoration of abandoned agricultural fields to urban restoration. Secondly, these activities involve a range of different actors, who bring to the projects different types of knowledge and values. Third, the region has been experiencing significant climate change, primarily manifesting in reduced precipitation (Pitman et al. 2004; Garnaut 2011). Research here in turn could inform science and practice in locations that at the moment are less affected by changes in biogeophysical conditions, but are expected to be so in the future. And finally, local research institutions (e.g. University of Western Australia, Botanic Gardens and Parks Authority) host many influential and globally renowned academics working in the area of restoration ecology, who could be considered key actors (as per Hajer 2006) in the discussion surrounding restoration objectives.
It is expected that the study could be of relevance not only locally but also in the wider ecological restoration discourse. In the light of severe environmental degradation, unrestricted suburban growth and climate change, debates about restoration objectives and reference states are especially relevant to WA’s restoration planners and practitioners (Lovett et al. 2008; McDonald & Williams 2009). Conversely, their knowledge could be of interest to global restoration community given the strong Australian landcare traditions and the important role of Australian researchers and practitioners in developing restoration approaches and advancing the field of restoration ecology.
1.5. Chapter outline
Chapters 1-4
The first part of the thesis is dedicated to outlining the background information, research strategies and theoretical perspectives. Chapter 1 provided the introduction to the topic of restoration objectives, existing discursive debates and sketched a problem statement. The following Chapter 2 presents a theoretical framework and concludes with a number of research questions. Chapter 3 continues with methods and strategies of operationalisation of the outlined theory. Finally, Chapter 4 gives an extended overview of the study setting which is the Perth metropolitan area. Here historical and biogeophysical circumstances of the location are followed up by outlining the rationale for restoration in Perth metro.
Chapter 5 – Results
This chapter forms the core of the thesis, its empirical part. Chapter 5 is extensive, covering many topics and is thus divided into four separate sections.
5 5.1. Contesting restoration presents the analysis of relevant restoration literature and outlines the key discourses distinguished in restoration objectives discussions. Discourses are each analysed in separate parts, mostly adhering to a chronological order of their emergence.
5.2. Academic interviews. This section contains analysis of the interviews with select Perth researchers, again focusing on restoration objectives. It was a conscious decision to present this and the literature parts separately – the reasoning will be outlined explicitly below.
5.3. Planning restoration deals with the interviews of practitioners and volunteers. Using the section 5.1. as a framework, I analyse the actual goals of restoration projects in the southwest WA, as well as the notion of bringing back the past ecosystems. Remaining parts of 5.3. delve deeper into specific concepts: reference state, provenance and responses to climate change, all of which are important in answering the key what to plant question.
Finally, 5.4. Doing restoration focuses more on the actual on-the-ground restoration activities and approaches. In separate parts I cover planting, weeding and watering, again keeping in mind the storylines established in the earlier sections.
Chapters 6 and 7
Chapter 6 presents a Conclusion to the empirical chapter, which is then followed by Discussion in Chapter 7, with the focus on the literature and the wider restoration (and other) context. Reflection on theoretical framework and methodology is also presented here.
6 Chapter 2. Theoretical framework
2.1. Discursive approach
Although the different positions in the restoration debate might be rationally constructed and supported, the issue cannot be resolved only with the evidence from natural sciences (Hajer & Versteeg 2005), especially given that ecological restoration is strongly influenced by socio-economic factors (Davis & Slobodkin 2004; Baker, Eckerberg & Zachrisson 2013; Murcia et al. 2014). It is thus not the ecological phenomena within restoration that are significant, but the way they are understood, interpreted and transformed by different actors, including academics, volunteers and practitioners (Hajer & Versteeg 2005; Graham 2011). The outcome of the debate is consequently a result of the discursive landscape – language, ideas, concepts, beliefs, ideologies and other means of discourse, often manifold and competing (Sharp & Richardson 2001; Robbins 2004; Kleinman 2005). Following Foucault, discourse theory presumes at its very core that language is not just a neutral conduit for describing and communicating reality, but that it actually constructs it (Feindt & Oels 2005; Hajer 2006). Indeed, words are important and language is powerful; they can shape one’s interests and preferences and influence perception of the world (Hajer 2006). The aim of Foucauldian discourse analysis is thus to trace this “productive function of discourses” (Feindt & Oels 2005 p. 164): not to identify what collections of statements say per se, but how these statements eventually “produce” the objects they communicate about (Graham 2011).
The “produced” notions of reality seem intuitive and inevitable, which maintains a certain social order (Robbins 2004). As Robbins puts it, “The key to understanding the character of society is to explore how certain taken-for-granted notions of the world are formed through discourse (…) and how certain social systems and practices (…) make them ‘true’” (Robbins 2004 p. 66, emphasis in the original). Some “truths” become dominant as a result of power, held by individuals or groups. In Foucauldian discourse theory, the relationship between discourse and power is of special interest: power is not simply exerted through linguistic devices, but it in fact inhabits the discourse (Arts & Buizer 2009). It is the power struggles between different discourses that are shaping and constructing the socio-physical world, making the individuals perform in a particular, “taken-for-granted” way (Sharp & Richardson 2001; Arts & Buizer 2009). Foucault, however, regards such claims of “truth” critically or refuses them completely, i.e. one view is not objectively better or more adequate than the other (Dingler 2005; Hajer & Versteeg 2005). Discourse analysis thus is also concerned with demonstrating how power and the “truth” claims are linked and feed off each other, and with uncovering other realities not represented by the dominant, or hegemonic, discourses (Robbins 2004). It should be mentioned that, accordingly, discourse analysis
7 does not reveal some or any true “truth”, or even look for it in the first place (Sharp & Richardson 2001; Graham 2011). Instead, it is interested in “how, why and by whom truth is attributed to particular arguments and not to others” (Sharp & Richardson 2001 p. 197).
Within discourse analysis the discourse-coalition approach has been proposed as a useful way to map and analyse the debates and discussions surrounding, in the case of this study, ecological restoration objectives and their translation into practice in the field (Hajer 2006). The central idea of this approach is that groups of actors using a set of the same specific storylines – handy summaries for complex narratives – and thus sharing a discourse represent a discourse-coalition (Hajer 2006). Interestingly, it is not necessary for the actors in a coalition to share similar interpretation of the storylines – often the ensuing misunderstanding is what allows formation of the coalition and meaningful policy (Hajer & Versteeg 2005). The discourse-coalition approach brings discoursing actors to the fore – it is they that form coalitions and cluster around storylines, and it is their communication and reflection on these interactions that eventually result in discourses (Szarka 2004; Feindt & Oels 2005; Hajer & Versteeg 2005). While many of the above elements are key to doing discourse analysis, discourse-coalition approach has, however, been criticised on its (in)applicability to the real world as often the articulatory practices are too messy to actually establish any clear coalitions, underlain by a “strong notion of commonality” (Ingram, Lejano & Ingram 2014 p. 3), whereas constitutive function of discourses and formation of meanings and identities is still identifiable (Ingram, Lejano & Ingram 2014). Examination of discourse resonance thus presents a more feasible task (Bulkeley 2000), and is better conveyed through articulation approach, as elaborated by Laclau, Mouffe, Howarth and others (Howarth 2000). As Howarth puts it, the practice of articulation is “the practice which links specific theoretical and empirical elements together so as to account for a problematized phenomenon” (2010 p. 332). Indeed, the assumption of the following analysis of the debates about restoration objectives is that it produces a synthesis and facilitates a story of many interwoven elements, modified through a range of interactions and relations (Howarth 2000, 2010).
The strength of the discourse analysis thus lies in not a simple interpretive function in regards to the texts, and verbal and non-verbal communications, but in providing critical tools to inquire how the identity and meaning of certain objects, practices, actions is constituted depending on the existent discourses. This can be achieved through the study of articulation processes – establishing and fixing the meaning of certain narratives, concepts, metaphors – which in turn construct the discourse, which then feed back into production of articulatory practices. Eventually, discourse stabilises with the discursive complexity masked behind the (re)articulations (De Lijster 2012). Consider the following example of Transperth, a public transit authority servicing the Perth metropolitan area. There are
8 posters on the trains and in the stations proclaiming that “Perth’s transport system is one of the safest in the world”; these go alongside “See something, say something” posters and posters about the cameras following your every move (“Our CCTV can see the pimples on your face. Imagine how easily we’ll see you crossing the tracks”). But (armed) transit officers are also constantly present in the bigger stations and also board the trains in the evenings. These measures substantiate the claim of “one of the safest transport systems in the world”, while the claim rationalises the measures, and so forth. We can nonetheless critically analyse how the discourse and the practice are intertwined: how the former came into being, how it stabilises certain behaviour and orders thinking and speaking of the actors (Arts & Buizer 2009), whether to better understand the safety regime on Transperth or the practices of restorationists in the Perth metropolitan area.
By using a discursive approach we can therefore analyse how the formation of the world takes place through the formation of statements about that world, and uncover the power struggles between actors over what knowledge is used to represent the world and how knowledge is being produced (Forsyth 2004; Feindt & Oels 2005; Hajer & Versteeg 2005). In discourse, recognised types of knowledge production disempower other types of knowledge production, while the political impacts of uttered statements should be also viewed in the light of (existing) alternative, counter-discourses (Feindt & Oels 2005; Graham 2011). Of special interest is the exploration of changes in discourse (and thus power relations) for their political impacts on institutions and society. For example, actors representing the opposing views attach different meanings to many of the principal components of ecological restoration, which might lead to the promotion of specific research programmes and eventually conservation policies (cf. Jørgensen et al. 2014). Already, certain restoration objectives and reference states are being articulated through the debate, while in restoration practice the debate literally “physically shapes reality” (Feindt & Oels 2005 p. 164) through planting, weeding and watering among other activities. As mentioned above, while discourse analysis first and foremost highlights the dominant discourses, it also unravels discourses which might be underappreciated or excluded but nonetheless communicate valuable suggestions in terms of policy and on the ground management (Robbins 2004; Feindt & Oels 2005; Hajer & Versteeg 2005). Although in the case of the debate about restoration outcomes, two strong (opposing) narratives are obvious – historical and novel ecosystems – this presumption still stands as the knowledge and concepts of the different views used by different actors might nonetheless be obscured. Revealing them might eventually result in a productive dialogue and alignment of ideas in restoration practice.
9 2.2. Articulation of challenges to hegemonic discourses
The debate of restoration objectives could also be examined through the theoretical framework of genealogy (Robbins 2004; De Lijster 2012). While this thesis does not pursue this framework, the analysis (Chapter 5) borrows from some of its notions, for example, genealogical analysis tries to deconstruct the present by identifying events, conflicts and other instances in the past that have created windows of opportunity for the ascent of the (dominant) discourse; it is also interested in power- knowledge relations and how it has shaped where we are today (Robbins 2004; Sembou 2011). Part of this process is the articulation of various criticisms towards a hegemonic discourse, which could give rise to a number of likely scenarios (Volbeda 2016). In any case, criticism presents a challenge to the hegemonic discourse. In the first scenario (Figure 1a), if the latter acknowledges the challenge and subsequently responds to it, the articulation of criticism will be incorporated into the dominant discourse – re-articulated as one of its concepts, ideas and so forth. However, there might be no such acknowledgement of the challenge. In this second scenario (Figure 1b), a number of un-responded-to criticisms could then group together and imbricate, eventually forming a counter-discourse to the hegemonic one. There are two obvious outcomes in such a situation: 1) counter-discourse is successful and either replaces the challenged discourse as a new hegemonic discourse or is incorporated in it resulting in a major re-articulation of the old hegemonic discourse (Figure 1b, v), or 2) counter-discourse is not successful, loses its power and disintegrates. It should be noted that this is a theoretical representation of the exchanges, reactions and interactions within discursive landscape. In practice the described scenarios might be intermixed, discourses less clear-cut, counter-discourses still forming even though the inherent challenges were addressed and incorporated into the hegemonic discourse. Nonetheless, by allowing comparing and contrasting with the standard scenarios, the framework is useful for revealing such irregularities, specifically to illuminate the relations between the theory and the practice.
Before continuing the distinction between the notions of restoration theory and restoration practice should be clarified. These are not fixed conceptual categories, but loosely and operationally defined empirical fields to enable the analysis of the differences between ecological restoration discourses. Theory thus roughly equals the discourses articulated in the academic literature (peer-reviewed articles), whereas practice comprises of restoration planning activities as well as the actual on the ground doing of restoration. As will be seen later, a part of analysis – academic interviews – is nestled between the two categories, informing and being informed by both the theory and practice, further demonstrating the fluidity of the empirical fields.
10
Figure 1 Articulation of a challenge (C) to the hegemonic discourse (DH). First scenario (a) represents acknowledgement of and response to the challenge (ii) and its incorporation into the hegemonic discourse (iii). Second scenario (b) shows the lack of acknowledgement for the challenge (ii). Related challenges might group together (iii) and eventually form a counter-discourse (Dc) (iv). (V) represents a new or re-articulated hegemonic discourse (DNH) as a result of the interaction with counter-discourse. Dashed lines represent the fluid boundaries of the discourses and the concepts, narratives, ideas within. Adapted from Volbeda (2016).
In conclusion, the debate about restoration objectives and its translation into practice is not a straightforward, easily defined problem where competing actors are necessarily right or wrong. In discourse theory it is seen as a complex reality which is contested and continues to be re-defined by the involved actors, resulting in alternative discourses (Hajer 1993 in Forsyth 2004 p. 16). The analytic concept to be used in this thesis is articulation to allow highlighting this struggle, conflict and messiness of the knowledge and power relations in the ecological restoration. Existing discourses are recognised through the analysis and identification of the knowledge and concepts used by different actors to articulate restoration objectives and translate these into practice. The theoretical approach of discourse analysis connects the research questions which focus on the illumination of discourses through the articulated restoration concepts, and the research design, which operationalises the study of discourses.
11 2.3. Research objective
The aim of this research is to investigate discourses underpinning ecological restoration objectives: what discourses are articulated in the academic literature and by scientists in the interviews, and how then these discourses compare to those that manifest in practice on the ground. Although the dichotomy between historical and novel ecosystems as restoration objectives has been given substantial attention in the restoration literature (Pickett & Parker 1994; Aronson, Dhillion & Floc’h 1995; Hobbs et al. 2006, 2011; Murcia et al. 2014; Hobbs, Higgs & Harris 2014, inter alia), the constitutive power of the participating discourses has been under-researched. In this debate three areas demand greater attention: First, what kinds of knowledge and concepts are used to articulate the objectives of restoration in the literature. Second, what kinds of knowledge and concepts actually guide restoration in practice. Lastly, also of interest are the views of different actors (academics, volunteers, practitioners) regarding varied restoration objectives and how these views are aligned, or challenged, in restoration practice.
I will attempt to explore the different perspectives regarding ecological restoration by applying discourse analysis. Studying ideas and language underlying the varying views can lead to a better understanding of the politics of knowledge and the relevance of these debates in shaping restoration science, policy and practice. Moreover, this research will also contribute to a better appreciation of how different views and types of knowledge could be brought in productive dialogue and aligned in the practice of restoration at a time when reliance on the discipline is growing exponentially. Conversely, this may also lead to the production of restoration science that is more relevant in terms of social realities (Forsyth 2004; Cabin 2007). The research objective is operationalised in a number of research questions below and also represented in the theoretical framework in Figure 2 (p.13). 2.4. Research questions
1. What discourses underpin current debates in restoration ecology theory? What concepts and types of knowledge can be identified in these discourses? 2. What discourses manifest themselves in restoration practice? What concepts and types of knowledge can be identified in these discourses? 3. What similarities and differences can be identified between the two domains (theory and practice)?
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Figure 2 Theoretical framework combining all the key elements and assumptions of the research project. Q1 – Q3 refer to research questions. D1 and D2 represent possible restoration discourses – here is an assumption that in literature the discourses are clearly identifiable and distinct (hegemonic discourse, counter-discourse #1, etc.), whereas in practice the manifestation of discourses is less clear-cut: discourses and their concepts might be intermixed or incorporated into one another, for example.
13 Chapter 3. Methods
This report is a result of a 7-month-long study, which included fieldwork in the Perth metropolitan area, Western Australia from September 11 to December 6, 2015 (spring time in the Southern Hemisphere). It links data from the analysis of the academic literature, interviews with different actors (scientists, volunteers and practitioners), and participant observations (outings with volunteer groups and other meetings) to be later presented in Chapter 5 (Results) as examination of different discourses surrounding restoration objectives in academia and practice. This is an explorative and analytical study as it investigates the current state of the debates concerning the ‘what to restore to’ question and the knowledge and views of different actors involved in the debates through the use of discourse analysis.
3.1. Data collection 3.1.1. Literature analysis
To answer the first research question to determine discourses underpinning the current debates in restoration ecology, a content analysis was carried out on a dataset of 38 academic articles from peer- reviewed journals regularly publishing about the science of restoration ecology and practice of ecological restoration (for a full list see Appendix 1). Academic journals are the main outlet for presenting ideas on the development of restoration ecology (Jørgensen et al. 2014). Considering the young age of the restoration discipline and its still developing principles and approaches, the storylines presented by researchers matter and are thought to have a great influence on both restoration practitioners and policy-makers (Aronson, Dhillion & Floc’h 1995; Jørgensen et al. 2014; Aronson et al. 2014) – as long as information provided is understood as credible, relevant and representing their interests, which can be achieved through the use of the common language (Jørgensen et al. 2014).
I used a stepwise approach to identify appropriate restoration articles for the analysis: first, queries including a combination of “ecological restoration”, “restoration outcomes/objectives/goals” and/or “historic(al) conditions/state” entered in a journal database (I used both Scopus and Google Scholar) allowed determining the key figures (authors) and principal articles concerned with and contributing to the restoration objectives debate. I also looked at the most cited “novel ecosystems” articles. From this initial dataset further relevant papers were determined by snowball method, i.e. perusing the reference lists of the already selected articles and also identifying more specific keywords. I also limited my search to articles published in 2000 and onwards to deliberately focus on the more recent developments in the restoration theory. Finally, I picked only those articles where the restoration objectives debate was among the core arguments. The end result of this process was a list of 38 journal articles expected to be representative of the prevailing views in academia on the issue.
14 3.1.2. Semi-structured interviews
To answer the second research question about discourses manifesting in restoration practice, I carried out a total of 23 semi-structured interviews (average length 46 minutes) with 26 representatives of the different actor groups (see Appendix 2). I also recorded numerous other exchanges (see 3.1.3.)
Let’s start with the selection of informants. Upon arrival to Murdoch University (MU), Perth, WA where I was based during my fieldwork, I was given an extensive list of possible contacts. My colleague, lecturer and researcher at MU, who was also my key contact person while in Australia, collated the list based on her extensive knowledge of the local restoration/conservation/sustainability education arena. She could be seen as so-called “gatekeeper”, however, in the words of Hammersley and Atkinson, it was “done in good faith to facilitate the research” rather than to “control the findings” (2007 p. 104). The list proved to be an extremely valuable starting point; nonetheless, I selected most of the interviewees by snowball sampling, usually based on direct recommendations by other respondents or people I contacted specifically for more contacts. I also interviewed certain people because their or their organisation name would come up repeatedly during the other interviews, and thus seemed relevant to explore further. Some were also chance encounters, e.g. I was invited to attend a meeting and was later introduced to the guest speaker, and they were interested in doing an interview. In general, these approaches proved to be much more fruitful, than simply emailing a person or organisation that seemed relevant.
The respondents can be clustered into three main target groups:
Academics: scientists working in Perth’s research institutions, namely University of Western Australia (UWA), MU and Botanic Gardens and Parks Authority (BGPA). Interviewees included several restoration ecologists, but also related (e.g. ecosystems, animal, seed ecologists). Interviewees represented a broad spectrum of scientists, as some were doing more theoretical- conceptual ecology work, whereas others were concerned with more practical activities and involved with actual restoration projects and experiments (on mining sites primarily, but also national parks or abandoned agricultural fields restoration in the Wheatbelt, east of Perth). In total I carried out 8 academic interviews (A1-A8). Practitioners: I defined practitioners as full-time paid professionals working in restoration projects, including contributing to their planning. I carried out a total of 11 interviews with 13 practitioners (two of the interviews involved two people). Restoration practitioners were an extremely varied group, reflecting well the variety of restoration projects in the Perth metropolitan area. I interviewed environmental officers of three local councils, park managers, several representatives of revegetation consultancies, and also representatives of WA
15 Department of Parks and Wildlife, among others. A note on labelling: P1-P13 refer to these semi- structured interviews; there is also P14 (email exchange), P15 (observation and email exchange) and P16 (fieldnotes on visit to a site), which provided similarly relevant and valuable data. Volunteers: I interviewed four volunteers (V1-V4) in three interviews. One of the interviewees had a relatively limited volunteering experience; the other three, however, have been involved with restoration projects for a longer term (2 to 12 years). I also labelled notes of another extensive interaction with a lone volunteer (V5). Finally, it should be noted that names of volunteers that appear in fieldnote excerpts are all changed to preserve their anonymity as well.
It should be also mentioned that not every listed label appears in the Results as not all of the interviews or other exchanges were quoted. That is, however, simply a consequence of the large amount of data collected, rather than deliberate exclusion of certain interviewees.
The three above groups were targeted because of their direct contributions to the discussion on setting restoration objectives. In the area of restoration more stakeholders are apparent (e.g. other non- volunteer members of local communities), but they were expected to have significantly less or no say in restoration objectives debate (however, consider Chicago restoration controversy, e.g. Vining, Tyler & Byoung-Suk 2000). Nonetheless, I did interview one person who later had to be put in a separate category (O1, for Other) as they did not really fit any of the three outlined above (being volunteer coordinator in a local chapter of a large national non-profit). Their input as a relative outsider was valuable and confirming of many of my ideas and observations. I also attempted to identify relevant policy-makers (the ones working with ecological restoration policies), but I was not successful. Some explanation of why this was the case can be found in Chapter 4, where the complex and ambiguous restoration-related policy situation in WA is discussed. Moreover, when I would express difficulties in finding representatives of this actor group, my other interviewees were not at all surprised, which only confirmed that that is something to be expected.
Interviews were appropriate for this qualitative research, because I was particularly interested both in the things that are being said (or not said) about restoration objectives and also how they are being said. For the discourse analysis the linguistic elements (storylines, concepts, ideas, keywords) uttered are still the focus and the communicative practice of the interview allows to gather the most of such data. I chose the tool of semi-structured interviews as by having prepared some of the questions researcher can make sure that the interview covers all points of interest, while it also provides flexibility and an opportunity for respondents to contribute additional relevant information if it comes up (Emans 2004; Hammersley & Atkinson 2007). Appendix 3 features a topic list which was followed in the majority of the interviews. I did initially have a detailed interview guide, however, later on I allowed more
16 flexibility, adapting to both interviewee and what I also learned beforehand. Thus the actual interview guide had become somewhat constricting and less relevant than a simple topic list. I recorded all of the interviews (after receiving permission to do so), and then transcribed them in full. It should also be mentioned that I later followed up with the interviewees about the quotes I included in this report; subsequently, some of the quotes were updated, primarily for improved clarity and style.
3.1.3. Participant observation and other exchanges
Hands-on performance in the field can also provide information regarding knowledge and concepts (expressions of discourses) used by actors participating in restoration. Participant observation is a key method for extracting relevant data in such a case, as it allows getting insight into the context, learning emic perspective and contrasting it with the perspective of the outsiders (including researcher herself) (Hammersley & Atkinson 2007). While I collected most of the data through the recorded semi- structured interviews, data collected during participant observations and informal interviews (solicited but also occasionally unsolicited accounts) was also plentiful and crucial.
I visited restoration sites and participated in several meetings and workdays/mornings with members of three different community volunteer groups (CVG): one composed mainly of student volunteers (CVG1) and the other two of older adults and retirees (CVG2, CVG3) – all three had their sites in regional parks within the metropolitan area. Since the student group was also based at MU campus, I had a chance to not only interview those responsible for planning the restoration activities, attend one such planning meeting, but also participate in two restoration related outings (weed removal3 and vegetation conditioning4, respectively). I also observed volunteer work directly and indirectly at two other locations, while accompanied by practitioners who worked on those sites5.
In addition, I attended various talks, lectures and tours (e.g. free tour of Alcoa’s Huntly mine near Dwellingup, WA which included visits to revegetation areas) and visited natural areas in and around the metro – all of which contributed to better understanding the context of the restoration activities in the area as well as supplemented discursive data. I produced fieldnotes for the participant observations of community volunteer groups. I also kept notes for many of the other relevant outings and exchanges.
To sum up, the use of the different data collection methods (academic literature, interviews and participant observations and other informal exchanges) allowed to obtain triangulation of the methods, which is important to ensure the validity and reliability of the qualitative research.
3 I visited southwest WA not in the planting season (usually June-August), so I could observe only weeding activities. 4 Determining the condition of different patches of woodland according to vegetation condition scales (Appendix 4) 5 P5 and P16 fieldnotes 17
3.2. Data analysis
Discourse analysis was a very iterative process which is a common practice in such ethnographic-type research (Hammersley & Atkinson 2007). The initial codes and coding trees were updated several times on subsequent readings and rounds of coding of the data. For the literature, I first highlighted the relevant passages in the 38 selected articles that referred to different types of arguments, concepts and types of knowledge surrounding restoration objectives; these later were grouped according to a set of pre-determined codes as well as the new codes that have emerged later during the process of analysis. Interview transcripts and fieldnotes from participant observations were also coded using a set coding tree, which reflected the concepts and views by different actors. Similar to the literature analysis during the initial coding period new codes emerged which supplemented the analysis. It should be mentioned that some early codes were discarded or absorbed into other codes – what first appeared as a consistent storyline after careful reading and coding of the entirety of the data turned out to be actually uttered by only one or two of the interviewees, which cannot be confidently claimed to be a significant result. However, I did look into several such instances in more detail (as lack of data is also a result and can be telling), especially where there were clear distinctions between theory and practice domains.
All of the collected data was examined looking for particular keywords, primarily the ones representing the main aspects of the two – Historical state and Novel ecosystems – discourses. I first looked at the language used to describe concepts such as rationales of the different approaches; views on environmental change and dynamism of ecosystems; views on history; position towards the opposing discourse, and then categorised linguistic regularities and recurring semantic elements. Practitioner/volunteer interview analysis focussed on specific concepts underlying practical planting, weeding and watering decisions since these storylines were especially dominant. The strong native species storylines that became apparent in restoration practice then in turn directed the second round of analysis of the literature to highlight the elements of Historical and Novel ecosystems that also dealt with native species and provenance issues. Same applied to several other concepts (e.g. ecosystem functions or reference state). All of this eventually allowed determining the extent to which the different discourses are being used, and what concepts and types of knowledge underlie the theory and practice of restoration.
18 Chapter 4. Perth metropolitan area and restoration activities
On November 10, 2015 I had an interview scheduled in the City of Subiaco6, north of the Swan River; this also allowed to visit City Beach in the Town of Cambridge, which was relatively close. On the way back I made a stop at the ambitiously named Museum of Perth not far from the Perth Underground station. After the museum visit strolling down Barrack Street I came across a plaque in front of the Town Hall commemorating the establishment of the city of Perth in 1829 (Figure 3). I stood there for a few moments and kept re-reading the “by the felling of a tree” part. It was my ninth week in WA, and given everything I had learned about the city and its history so far, I found it both equally comical and eerie to learn that even the official founding of Perth was memorialised with an act of environmental destruction. A few hours earlier at the beach, however, I was welcomed by another sign – a large panel informing about the on-going dune revegetation project (Figure 4). This was neither the first nor the last of such instances, as I kept seeing similar signs all around the city – foreshore and bushland improvement in Bicton, bushland restoration at Bibra Lake, rehabilitation of coastal heath on Rottnest Island (Figure 5). Although environmental degradation has dominated the metro area’s relatively short history (post-European arrival), both fuelling and fuelled by the city’s expansion, nowadays restoration (and conservation) activities are becoming just as important features of its landscape.
Figure 3 Plaque in front of the Perth Town Hall, Barrack Street, City of Perth, Perth. November 10, 2015. Photo K. Simonaityte.
6 Local government areas in WA are called cities, towns and shires (e.g. City of Perth, Town of Cottesloe, Shire of Kalamunda). Cities and towns mentioned are all within the Perth metropolitan area unless stated otherwise.
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Figure 4 Sign informing about dune revegetation at City Beach, Town of Cambridge, Perth. November 10, 2015. Photo K. Simonaityte. 4.1. Historical setting
Museum of Perth turned out to be just a small room behind a café, but their panels about the city’s history were very informative. It was here that I learned that Karl Marx in his Das Kapital described Perth as “an object lesson in how not to establish a colony” (my emphasis), given the early failures of the European settlers. This fitted well with another quote seen earlier at the Western Australian Museum: “That man who reported this land to be good deserves hanging nine times over (…) Each side of the river is nothing more nor less than sand (…)”, Eliza Shaw, Swan River colonist, remarked in 1830. Indeed, the city has been built on the ancient sand dunes and wetlands, its character further shaped by the two rivers flowing through it – the Swan and the Canning.
Area of today’s Perth metro was first visited by Europeans in 1697. Dutch explorer Willem de Vlamingh and his expedition sailed up the Swan River to what is today known as Heirisson Island. It took, however, another 120 odd years and expeditions of French and eventually British for a colony to be established in 1829 through the efforts of the British Captain James Stirling (Bolleter 2015). Due to poor, low fertility soils of the Swan Coastal Plain, the initial growth of the Swan River colony, as it was then known, was very slow (Bolleter 2015). The first booms of population came soon enough, however, as a result of gold mining, farming in the Wheatbelt and translocation of convicts to facilitate new constructions in the area. Draining of the wetlands for market gardens, dredging of the Swan River estuary for better access to the inner port, and accidental and deliberate introduction of non-native
20 weedy species, mostly from Europe and South Africa, were some of the activities of the early colonists with the greatest environmental impact on local ecosystems (Myers et al. 2000; Bradshaw 2012; Bolleter 2015). It was also during this time that the Whadjuk people of the Noongar Nation, the Aboriginal inhabitants of the area for at least 40 thousand years based on archaeological records, were dispossessed of their land, which led to the termination of millennia of traditional land management, such as prescribed burning (Abbott & Burrows 2003).
Mining of gold, iron, bauxite and other materials have directly transformed many areas of WA, some in the close vicinity to the Perth metropolitan area (e.g. Alcoa’s operations in the Darling Range, Figure 6). As a result of the mining booms Perth’s population has grown significantly, most recently over the last decade (.id 2014). Metropolitan area’s population today is estimated at slightly over 2 million, with growth rate of 2.5 per cent recorded in 2014, the greatest of all metro areas in Australia (Australian Bureau of Statistics 2015). In recent decades this growth has primarily resulted in extensive development of suburbs, thus promoting a continued destruction of vulnerable banksia woodlands on the city margins and further contributing to expansion of the network of highways and the growing number of cars (.id 2014; Urban Bushland Council WA Inc 2016). Today Perth metro stretches about 125 km along the Indian Ocean and about 50 km inland to the east. For comparison, Greater London is about four times smaller in area, while having about four times the population.
WA government has obviously an important role to play in Perth’s development, however, the current government’s commitment to its environmental policies, including those relevant to restoration, has been widely questioned. Most recent example is the push for the construction of Roe 8 highway (also known as Perth freight link). The planned highway would go through the Beeliar Regional Park wetlands, home to numerous water bird species and providing various services to the local community and biodiversity, as well as intact banksia woodland, very little of which remains within the city limits. It is also the prime habitat for endangered black cockatoos (Red-tailed and Carnaby’s). Both the local community groups and local governments of the City of Cockburn and City of Fremantle are against the building of the highway. Court recently ruled that Environmental Protection Authority (a state agency), which carried out the Roe 8 environmental impact assessment, has failed to comply with its own guidelines, thus voiding the validity of the assessment (Wahlquist 2015). This also puts into question government’s other decisions. For instance, many of WA development projects have offset element, where destruction of good condition bushland is permitted, as long as developers will “restore” similar condition bushland elsewhere. However, given our still limited knowledge about ecosystem assembly and functioning, offset policies are criticised heavily in restoration literature (Maron et al. 2012), as well as in practice.
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Figure 5 Rehabilitation on Rottnest Island, Western Australia. Planting protection from quokka grazing. October 11, 2015. Photo K. Simonaityte.
Figure 6 Jarrah forest rehabilitation at Alcoa’s Huntly mine, Dwellingup, Western Australia. November 11, 2015. Photo K. Simonaityte.
22 4.2. Ecological setting
Swan Coastal Plain is one of WA’s biogeographic regions and botanical provinces (Paczkowska & Chapman 2000). It encompasses the Perth metropolitan area, including the Swan River and its tributaries, while extending from Jurien in the north to Cape Naturaliste in the south to the Darling Range in the east (Paczkowska & Chapman 2000). Soils are primarily sandy and water repellent, old and nutrient poor (Shane & Lambers 2005; Lambers et al. 2013). Along the coast younger dune systems are found, while further inland closer to the scarp soils are loamier and more fertile. Going from the coast inland the vegetation types are dune vegetation, followed by coastal heath interspersed with banksia woodlands and later shifting to eucalyptus woodlands. Some wetland systems have also been retained, primarily as part of Beeliar Regional Park, boasting numerous wetland species of flora and fauna.
In 2000 the southwest WA has been declared a biodiversity hotspot by Conservation International and its partners (Myers et al. 2000). In total there are 35 biodiversity hotspots in the world; southwest ecoregion remains the only such area in Australia (Critical Ecosystem Partnership Fund 2016). Over 7 thousand flowering plant species have been so far recorded in the area of about 356 thousand sq. km (Paczkowska & Chapman 2000; Hopper & Gioia 2004). The dominant scrubby Mediterranean-type vegetation is shaped by climate (largely wet, mild winters in June-August and dry, hot summers in December-February) and distinctive fire regime. Of the world’s five Mediterranean vegetation regions only South Africa’s Cape floristic region is more biodiverse (Hopper & Gioia 2004). The southwest is also characterised by some of the poorest soils not only on Australian continent, but also the world (Shane & Lambers 2005; Lambers et al. 2013). Research shows that it is this soil infertility and adaptations that have evolved over millions of years to cope with these harsh conditions that have resulted in the high levels of speciation and endemism (Crisp et al. 2001; Hopper 2009; Lambers et al. 2013). Consequently, Perth is considered “one of the most biodiverse cities in the world” (Prof. H. Lambers, presentation for Wildflower Society of WA Murdoch branch, November 5, 2015).
Hotspot status highlights, however, not only the exceptionally high biodiversity value of the region, but also extreme rates of its loss – biodiversity hotspot title can be granted if at least 30 per cent of original vegetation were lost (Myers et al. 2000). It is estimated that about 90 per cent of primary ecosystems have been cleared in the southwest since the arrival of Europeans (Myers et al. 2000). Climate change and habitat destruction, disease (e.g. Phytophthora dieback) and invasion of non-native weedy species are the main drivers of biodiversity loss. Over-fertilisation of the typically impoverished soils promotes weed growth with which natives cannot compete (Lambers et al. 2013). Changes to fire regime is another important factor contributing to ecosystem degradation, as many native species depend on fire for germination and natural regeneration (Bell 2001; Abbott & Burrows 2003).
23 Speaking of climate change, the southwest WA has been experiencing a dramatic reduction in rainfall and higher temperatures with prolonged summer heatwaves (Pitman et al. 2004). Boosted by El Niño, 2015 was the warmest year on record in the Perth metropolitan area, equalling records of 2011 and 2012; rainfall was also below annual average and winter of 2015 was the ninth driest on record (Bureau of Meteorology 2016). Water availability is a key issue for the rapidly expanding city. In the last 10 years Perth’s water storage has been less than 20 per cent of the observed long-term average (Garnaut 2011). According to Garnaut Review, anthropogenic climate change has been responsible for about 50 per cent of the decline in the southwest rainfall (Garnaut 2011). In addition, the coastal suburbs are slowly sinking both due to the rise in sea level as well as land subsidence as a result of water extraction from aquifers (Featherstone et al. 2015). Subsequently, mitigation and adaptation to climate change are becoming more of a priority to both policy-makers and conservation and restoration practitioners.
4.3. Need for restoration and current status of restoration activities
I have described a number of factors – urban sprawl, wetland draining, climate change, invasive species, mining – that have led to and continue to cause environmental degradation and loss of biodiversity in the southwest WA. Practices of ecological restoration are often utilised to compliment conservation activities, address the damage to ecosystems and aid in their recovery (SER 2004; Coates et al. 2010). Urban development, mine sites and salinized agricultural fields in the Wheatbelt have been the main focus of restoration activities and have heavily informed what it means to do restoration in the Perth metropolitan area and surrounding regions; furthermore, conservation of the endemic, rare, small population-taxa provides rationale for restoration (Coates et al. 2010).
It is difficult to judge the current extent of restoration in the Perth metropolitan area as there is no, for example, state institution regulating all the activities or a consistent restoration database. The numerous terms and definitions used to describe restoration-type activities (e.g. restoration, revegetation, rehabilitation) also make it hard to record them, while some land managers do not identify their landcare actions as restoration at all. Restoration in the southwest WA involves a wide range of different actors (both those who carry out on the ground works and those owning the land as well as independent advisors and regulators) in a number of settings (urban, mining, agricultural). Urban restoration can also be of different types: restoring ecosystem from scratch on the new development site would be approached and legislated differently than would be the improvement of the condition of mostly intact natural areas owned by state or local governments, for example.
Depending on the project, restoration in Perth may involve practitioners (e.g. contracted restoration professionals, paid local government staff, Department of Parks and Wildlife staff), volunteers (e.g. community groups and one-off volunteers), researchers (more focused on mining, national parks or
24 agricultural fields restoration than urban) and to some extent policy-makers (e.g. local councils or state government). Some other actors might include local schools, financing bodies (e.g. Alcoa’s landcare program), education centres (for example, Cockburn Wetlands Education Centre), organisations providing volunteer workforce (e.g. Conservation Volunteers Australia) and others.
Policy scene regarding restoration in WA is similarly complicated. Some restoration activities, most importantly mining rehabilitation, are highly regulated with clear minimum objectives – or completion criteria – outlined in the legislation, for example, 70 per cent of native local species returned. Others, such as management of urban parks, are left to the authority of local governments, expertise and objectives of which might differ significantly (e.g. manifesting in differences in planting density targets7, etc.) Conservation legislation, such as national Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999 and state-level Western Australian Wildlife Conservation Act 1950, which ensures protection of, for example, Carnaby’s Black cockatoos (Department of the Environment 2004), might also drive restoration as it requires protecting and increasing habitat of these endangered species.
4.4. Why is it a good case study?
The fact that restoration in Perth is so varied and not held in the hands of a few NGOs or government agencies, but carried out by a large number of actors with differing knowledge and objectives is what makes it an interesting case to study. A wide range of projects just in urban environments, but also mining and agricultural settings, allows to explore the question of “what to restore to” from different perspectives. In addition, climate change presents a new challenge to Perth’s practitioners in both selecting the best techniques to do restoration on the ground as well as setting the goals of the projects. All this offers a great opportunity to investigate the articulation of discourses or their elements that guide restoration activities in practice. It is also interesting how the practice fits with current restoration ecology theory, especially when it comes to restoration objectives. Perth’s academic institutions are home to a large number of restoration ecologists working at University of Western Australia, Botanic Gardens and Parks Authority’s Science Department as well as Murdoch and Curtin universities. It could be expected that academics through both their published articles and engagement with local projects would also have an effect on restoration practice.
7 P9
25
Chapter 5. Results
5.1. Contesting restoration: literature analysis
The aim of the subsequent analysis of restoration ecology literature is to answer the first research question:
What discourses underpin current debates in restoration ecology? What concepts and types of knowledge can be identified in these discourses?
I start by deconstructing the key restoration objectives’ storylines present in the literature and identifying the concepts that underline them. Discursive terrain is mainly presented in a chronological order, starting with historical ecosystems; I then move on to novel ecosystems, which have brought together and expressed all the criticisms of the historical restoration; finally, I consider ‘history as a guide’ narrative that has been emerging recently as a response to critiques of both historical and novel ecosystems discourses.
5.1.1. Definition of restoration
Customarily, many of the articles focusing on the conceptual development of restoration ecology (including setting of restoration objectives) refer to the definition provided by the Society for Restoration Ecology: “Ecological restoration is a process of assisting the recovery of an ecosystem that has been degraded, damaged, or destroyed” (SER 2004 p. 3). Definition outlines the ultimate goal of restoration (“recovery of an ecosystem”); moreover, the SER Primer (which includes the definition) is unequivocally the fundamental set of guidelines for both restoration theory and practice. Therefore, it makes sense to start the discussion on articulation of restoration objectives in the literature by reviewing different interpretations of the definition and the Primer’s approach to historical state.
First of all, history or historical state/reference is not explicitly mentioned in the SER definition. However, the Primer also states: “Restoration attempts to return an ecosystem to its historic trajectory. Historic conditions are therefore the ideal starting point for restoration design”. It then continues, nonetheless, “The restored ecosystem will not necessarily recover its former state, since contemporary constraints and conditions may cause it to develop along an altered trajectory. The historic trajectory of a severely impacted ecosystem may be difficult or impossible to determine with accuracy. Nevertheless, the general direction and boundaries of that trajectory can be established through a combination of knowledge (…)” (SER 2004 p. 1). On the one hand, focus is firmly retained on historic conditions and the aspiration of historic trajectory. On the other hand, the Primer recognises that ecosystem’s “former state” might not always be recreated. It also points to the difficulties of establishing
26 accurate historical reference and instead argues for a laxer “the general direction and boundaries of that trajectory” aim. In other words, the ultimate goal should be the re-establishment of “historical continuity” (Clewell & Aronson 2013 p. 182), rather than an exact historical copy, fixed at a certain stage along historical trajectory.
The interpretations of the SER definition dominant in the literature take this a step further: here the focus is on moving completely away from history (including historical continuity) and towards the alternative goals, such as ecosystem functions, processes and goods. This dichotomy points to a historical state being understood predominantly as “reassemblage of past floras or faunas” (Choi et al. 2008, p. 57); this is also echoed by other authors and in contexts other than SER definition. Reading of the Primer and its “Attributes of Restored Ecosystems” suggests, however, that both normal functions and “indigenous species” are part and parcel of “the recovery of an ecosystem” referred to in the definition (SER 2004 p. 3). Yet the following excerpts demonstrate the apparent ambiguity of the term “recovery” and its relation to history:
“The term ‘recovery’, in the SER definition, implies retrieving a target ecosystem with historical meaning, and historical continuity, with respect to former trajectories (Clewell & Aronson 2013). Ecological restoration is, then, not only the act of assisting recovery, but also that of guiding ecosystem recovery according to a consciously selected model of an historically-based reference system.” (Balaguer et al. 2014 p. 17)
“With this perspective, the Society for Ecological Restoration International (SER 2004) issued a new definition of ecological restoration: “the process of assisting the recovery of an ecosystem that has been degraded, damaged, or destroyed.” This definition has major implications for human interventions, suggesting that the recovery of ecosystem functions and processes, rather than reassemblage of past floras or faunas, should be the goal.” (Choi et al. 2008 p. 56)
Monaco et al. (2012) considers this variety of views and interpretations as positive and also advancing the notion that there is in fact no single correct restoration objective or reference state for a given ecosystem. While these ideas of multi-reference and suite of stages of restoration outcomes are recognisable across the board (Hobbs et al. 2014; Balaguer et al. 2014; Higgs et al. 2014; Perring et al. 2015), the debates still persist when it comes to the value of historical fidelity in setting the restoration objectives. The differences observed in the interpretations of the succinct SER definition, which indubitably forms the basis for many conceptual discussions on restoration, extends further into debates on various restoration concepts.
27 5.1.2. History as a target: from traditional practice to mission impossible
When literature refer to restoring ecosystems to some historical state it is usually described as traditional or conventional restoration. This indicates a practice that is well-established and has been a first-choice approach for a long time. Indeed, historical state represents a hegemonic discourse; it has been normalised and the fact that it is impossible to identify its key actors is a further sign of its power. Another term, contemporary, although in the articles of the early 2000’s still referring to similar practice as the two former terms, more recently has been used to describe the restoration that has already moved beyond the default goal of historical state. For example, Perring et al. state that “[c]ontemporary practice considers organisms beyond plant communities and multiple functional, as well as compositional, goals” (2015 p. 2). This also implies that, in contrast, the traditional practice might focus on merely restoring vegetation cover, which in restoration literature appears to be largely synonymous with recreation of historical state.
In general, historical restoration is considered to be “nostalgic recompositions of the past” (Choi 2007 p. 352). Jordan and Lubick call it “ecocentric restoration, which is restoration focused on the literal re- creation of a previously existing ecosystem, including not just some but all its parts and processes” (2011 p. 2). However, it is difficult to specify historical state beyond such rather vague descriptions. As it will become clear later on, the analysed restoration literature focuses primarily on the positions and arguments emerging from the counter-discourses to historical restoration. In other words, what exactly these counter-discourses are disputing is far less explicit. Somewhat paradoxically, historical state restoration is in fact not really present in the literature; that is, apart from the extensive challenging of the general (but all pervasive) idea of the perceived relevance of such restoration. Hence, in the subsequent analysis I am also bound to considering historical restoration in the context (and through the lens) of its criticisms. This will be the focus of the following paragraphs.
Those writing about ecological restoration progress in the 21st century acknowledge (and some strongly avow) that historical reference may not anymore be a suitable target given the vast human impacts on the environment and unpredictable future changes. I looked into the language used to express this unsuitability. Many authors primarily refer to the impossibility of achieving an actual historical fidelity of the ecosystem being restored, calling the notion unattainable, not possible, unachievable, unrealistic, a Sisyphean task, and “no longer feasible given anything short of heroic action” (Hobbs, Higgs & Harris 2009 p. 602). Others are even more pessimistic about the success of restoration if using historical reference: for example, “using historical conditions to set targets for restoration ensures that the targets will be missed” (Wiens & Hobbs 2015 p. 310); also the practice is seen as “increasingly challenging at best and at worst lead to failure” (Harris et al. 2006 p. 171), while Keulartz, verbalising the concerns of
28 others, calls it “[a] recipe for disaster” (2012 p. 56). Other authors question the cost and the ability of such restored systems to self-sustain in the long-term. The practice is in turn considered austere and exclusive, [not] practical, untenable, and unlikely to be sustainable, among others. Marris et al. (2013), for example, see it in the future as ”an option for only a few boutique restoration jobs” and “a minor category of lands managed for museum-style pedagogic values” (p. 347). Many outright dismiss the concept as inappropriate in this day and age, calling it anachronistic, obsolete, [not] relevant, nostalgic, meaningless, idealistic, quixotic etc. This latter category relates both to the feasibility of achieving a complete restoration of past state as mentioned above, but also points to the social values that are associated with the historical reference; the adjectives used dismiss the inherent values of authenticity, historical accuracy and nostalgia, for instance, that historical systems might hold to some actors.
These examples come not only from the commentators who urge to focus on novel or futuristic ecosystems (e.g. Hobbs et al. 2006; Choi 2007), but also those who continue to promote the value of history in restoration (Balaguer et al. 2014; Higgs et al. 2014 inter alia). In the above considerations, however, all these actors still largely see bringing back historical ecosystem as a dominant objective of restoration projects, thus essentially reinforcing the hegemonic argument. On the other hand, concurrently the ideas and concepts of restoration are being actively rearticulated and the dominant discourse of historical state restoration is being challenged. As outlined above, discussions about revising restoration goals have been ongoing for some time, fuelled by the growing recognition of vast changes in environmental conditions (Perring et al. 2015), primarily climate change, invasive species, and nutrient enrichment. Accumulation of new and comprehensive knowledge about anthropogenic changes and ecosystem degrading factors has furthermore led to a widespread questioning of feasibility of the practice of historical restoration. This has thus created a field of opening, a window of opportunity for new restoration discourses, the ones promoting focus on the future instead of the past, and ecosystem functions instead of species assemblages, to emerge.
5.1.3. Novel ecosystems: a cluster of criticisms
Historical state continues to play an important role in the counter-discourses that are attempting to take up its place in the discursive space. It is readily employed in juxtaposition against the new emergent ideas, for example, novel ecosystems discourse as a whole was borne out accumulation of criticisms regarding the futility of bringing back historical state given the changing environmental conditions. A lot has been written about definitions (or lack thereof) of novel ecosystems and the implications of the concept on the conservation and restoration, both by its proponents (e.g. Marris, Mascaro & Ellis 2013) and those in opposition (e.g. Mateos 2013). Even the choice of the term “novel” has been confronted. Whereas it was intended to simply reflect the newness and lack of resemblance of these ecosystems to
29 those that have existed prior (Hobbs et al. 2006), some commentators argue that in this innovation and originality obsessed world calling some ecosystems novel might automatically label them as better, more valuable and thus worth pursuing (Aronson et al. 2014), referring back to the “language matter” argument from discourse analysts (Hajer 2006). Those developing the concept insist that novel ecosystems in themselves are not seen as restoration objectives: “that community neither advocates for novel ecosystems nor claims that novel ecosystems are the only targets worth contemplating for future action” (Hobbs, Higgs & Harris 2014 p. 645). What that community does advocate though is recognising the existence of novel ecosystems and that in the future such ecosystems will be even more prominent, which in turn requires revision of restoration goals as well as management approaches (Hobbs, Higgs & Harris 2009; Hobbs et al. 2014).
At the core of novel ecosystems discourse is the concept of thresholds. If the system has passed a certain threshold, its restoration back to some historical state might be highly impractical or in fact impossible, given our current ecological knowledge and resources available (Hobbs, Higgs & Harris 2009; Wiens & Hobbs 2015). At the same time, the system that has passed the threshold does not anymore resemble the historical state and is thus considered novel (Hobbs 2007). However, this idea has been especially criticised: ecological thresholds science is in its infancy, so it is both hard to establish the factual thresholds and to determine if and when these critical levels have been surpassed and, as a result, whether the system in question is indeed a novel ecosystem (Simberloff & Vitule 2014; Balaguer et al. 2014; Wiens & Hobbs 2015). Detractors argue, as summed up by Wiens & Hobbs, that in the face of these ecological arguments continued focus on these hitherto unseen ecosystems rather than historical references is “a slippery slope toward weaker restoration efforts and poorer outcomes” (2015 p. 311).
This concern is based on a few notions (in addition to thresholds) promoted in the novel ecosystems discourse. First of all, there is the argument of the changing environmental conditions and what effect that has on the feasibility of traditional restoration practices. Critiques of the hegemonic historical state discourse paint such restoration as unattainable, costly and idealistic. This is a discouraging rhetoric: even in situations where significant historical state restoration could still be successfully carried out, it might not be attempted due to being framed as too ambitious with little chance of success. Hence, the current novel ecosystems discourse provides a seemingly sound rationale for developers, policy-makers and others not to attempt to pursue historical ecosystems. Somewhat paradoxically, the opposite – the insistence on history as a target – can be just as slippery a slope. As Hobbs et al. point out, “continued retention of unrealistic restoration goals may feed into the ongoing destruction of good-condition ecosystems by allowing unachievable offset and mitigation targets to be traded for development” (2014 p. 646). “Unrealistic restoration goals” here refer to historical state and present a rare political, rather than technical (i.e. relating to practical difficulties of traditional restoration), argument against the
30 dominant discourse. Even without inevitable climatic changes to complicate the restoration endeavours, ecological knowledge necessary for such activities to be 100 per cent successful is still lacking. Whatever the scenario, the goals based on exaggerated expectations of what ecological restoration can do will likely lead to more damage than good (Clewell & Aronson 2013).
Secondly, novel ecosystems discourse argues that such systems need to be recognised and subjected to appropriate management, because instead of just being seen as “trash ecosystems” (Marris, Mascaro & Ellis 2013 p. 348), they can also be valuable to human well-being through provision of services, functions and processes. This goal of restoration for services and goods is at the core of future-oriented narratives: even though original vegetation composition cannot be recovered, specific (beneficial) functions could still be reinstated – with a help of non-native species if necessary (see below). Such juxtaposition also implies that restoration of functions is somehow easier to achieve than that of biodiversity, which is not necessarily the case (Moreno-Mateos et al. 2012; Clewell & Aronson 2013; Simberloff & Vitule 2014). Critics also argue that focus on the ecosystem functions detracts from the intrinsic value of biodiversity (Putz & Redford 2009; Clewell & Aronson 2013; Murcia et al. 2014). Nonetheless, this storyline provides a further rationale to relax restoration and conservation efforts. If novel ecosystems are shown to provide valuable functions and services, there is less incentive to attempt to reduce their occurrence. Thus, their existence is legitimised.
Even with all the focus on ecological functions and services, restoration still requires biota which would deliver these contemporary goals. As stated previously, however, objectives of “past species assemblages” (Choi et al. 2008 p. 60) have been largely rejected as not only untenable, but also counterproductive. For example, Harris et al. state that “[b]y insisting on the exclusive use of local material, we may however be consigning restoration projects to a genetic dead end that does not allow for the rapid adaptation to changed circumstances that may be needed if climate change scenarios proceed as predicted.” (2006 p. 174). Conversely, not limiting restoration practice to species of only local provenance might deliver better results; non-native species might also provide some beneficial or previously unseen services (Hobbs, Higgs & Harris 2009; Zedler, Doherty & Miller 2012; Clewell & Aronson 2013; Shackelford et al. 2013). Moreover, novel ecosystems normally contain non-natives, both invasive and not. While traditional restoration would attempt to remove them regardless of circumstances, proponents of novel ecosystems argue that such decisions should be made based on these species’ impacts (whether beneficial or negative) on the ecosystem rather than their origin (Hallett et al. 2013; Simberloff & Vitule 2014). It is also argued that removal of non-natives is increasingly an exercise in futility, and resources dedicated to weeding efforts might better be spent elsewhere (Hobbs et al. 2014).
31 Deciding on how to manage non-native species that are already on the site is one thing (albeit with considerable ethical implications in any case, e.g. Simberloff 2003). Deliberately bringing in non-local species because of the assumptions that changes in environmental conditions are inevitable and will only become more pronounced and that, as a result, historical restoration is unfeasible is, however, a whole different issue (e.g. see Barlow & Martin 2004; Schwartz 2005). Overall, although novel ecosystems discourse does seem to entertain the idea of such deliberate introductions (Harris et al. 2006; Shackelford et al. 2013) (see also Clewell & Aronson 2013), it is yet to be clearly articulated and pursued. However, it is hard to imagine species of non-local provenance (both those native to the locality but from different genetic populations as well as non-natives) not being an implied alternative, especially given the prominent idea of the unsustainability of historical reference. Murcia et al. (2014) seem to be a lone voice in pointing out that there is not enough research, in particular on species abilities to adapt to climate change, to claim that historical ecosystems are indeed anachronistic and a lost cause.
It should be mentioned, nevertheless, that those developing ideas on novel ecosystems acknowledge the importance of conservation and the value of historical ecosystems (Jackson & Hobbs 2009; Hobbs, Higgs & Harris 2009). They also concede that historical restoration should still be done if possible (Jackson & Hobbs 2009). However, these messages are not really coming across and are failing to be articulated as part of the discourse. Interestingly, detractors actually reference these ideas, but still retain that the drive to recognise the novel ecosystems should largely be interpreted as the argument to give up traditional practices (Simberloff & Vitule 2014; Murcia et al. 2014). Murcia et al. (2014) base this thinking on the inconsistencies of the claims of the key actors of novel ecosystems discourse; in addition, Keulartz questions whether Jackson & Hobbs (2009) arguments for traditional restoration “as insurance against risk to other systems”, namely novel ecosystems, is as satisfactory as restoring historical systems for their intrinsic value (2012 p. 66). This, however, is underlined by another important idea prominent in future-focused restoration discourses – pragmatism: “removing the requirement to aim for a historic ecosystem increases the range of options available and could enable reduced investment of effort and resources still to achieve valuable outcomes” (Hobbs, Higgs & Harris 2009 p. 604). This, of course, should be considered in the light of the abovementioned arguments that historical restoration represents “somewhat static view of ecosystems as particular assemblages in particular places” and as such is costly and “increasingly unrealistic”, thus a more practical one from “the range of options” should be attempted instead (Hobbs, Higgs & Harris 2009 p. 604).
A more efficient use of resources is a very compelling argument for practitioners (Trueman, Standish & Hobbs 2014) (A2 interview; sections 5.3. and 5.4.); however, it is yet another element of novel ecosystems discourse hinging on the futility of historical restoration given changing environmental conditions
32 storyline. That is, of course, not to say that the other available options might not indeed be more cost- effective. The issue, however, is that while trying to introduce a new thinking about ecosystem restoration and its objectives in the light of significant environmental changes, novel ecosystems discourse seems to be more concerned with discrediting the traditional approaches than actually suggesting practical steps forward. For this it lacks the power that would come with political arguments. This, however, could largely be attributed to the scarcity of technical knowledge – about future, ecosystem responses to interventions (or lack thereof), functioning of the novel species assemblages etc. One thing that the scientific community is by and large unanimous about is climate change and its causes, and there is little doubt that most of the world’s ecosystems are being or will be affected (IPCC 2014). Restoration needs to account for that and consider these challenges when setting restoration objectives – certainly this is stated clearly and convincingly in novel ecosystems discourse. However, its treatment (and dismissal in many instances) of history in restoration has been actively challenged. What we see now as a result of these debates between the proponents of historical state and novel ecosystems is reframing of the meaning of history and emergence of a set of new articulations of restoration objectives which incorporate both the future and the past considerations.
5.1.4. History-as-guide
History-as-guide (as per Higgs et al. 2014) is only an emerging discourse, but some of its fundamental concepts and storylines can be already identified. First of all, here the complete historical restoration is also considered hard to achieve and will be made only harder by ongoing anthropogenic climate change. The key difference from novel ecosystems discourse, however, is that history is seen as one of the goals; or, put it another way, discourse argues for multiple goals which also incorporate historical fidelity (Balaguer et al. 2014; Higgs et al. 2014). More importantly, while restoration should aim for historical ecosystem, discourse also advocates goal revision via adaptive management (Zedler, Doherty & Miller 2012; Perring et al. 2015; Wiens & Hobbs 2015), thus providing a mechanism to incorporate new knowledge about (future) environmental changes. While it is not necessarily articulated, this also implies recognition that management should be continuous and for longer periods than currently prescribed. Furthermore, the notion of goal revision points to a more local, site-specific approach (if we consider historical state as a shared, cookie-cutter goal, adopted regardless of local circumstances [Marris, Mascaro & Ellis 2013]).
Another important concept, which in my opinion is the real breakthrough of the nascent history-as- guide discourse, is recognition that history can have a range of roles beyond a reference state. In the novel ecosystems literature reference is considered in the context of historical restoration; historical state essentially equals historical reference, which in turn has led to strong criticism of the concept and
33 push for its abandonment. Conversely, promoters of history-as-guide approach recognise the value of historical reference, but also see an expanded definition of history: for example, as a source of information about the ecological legacies (acknowledgment that not only the possible upcoming changes, but also the past activities will have an effect on the future of the restoration site), as well as information on the past local environmental changes and the possible ecological trajectories of the ecosystem as a response (Higgs et al. 2014). The latter could provide key knowledge for contemporary management of targets and expectations for the restored ecosystems as well. The traditional understanding of history itself has been changing: from simply meaning what was there in the past (as in historical species collections) to a more comprehensive “compositional and functional reference” (Higgs et al. 2014 p. 505).
Continuing with the restoration objectives’ discussion, variety of project goals as well as diversity of motivations is further highlighted in the history-as-guide discourse (Perring et al. 2015; Suding et al. 2015). According to Suding et al., one of the main goals of restoration should be “prioritizing the complexity of biological assemblages, including species composition and representation of all functional groups, as well as the features and processes needed to sustain these biota and to support ecosystem function” (2015 p. 638). This quote does not specify the origin of the species (i.e. whether they are of local provenance or not), and neither necessarily does the discourse. However, considering its recognition of future change and difficulties of recovering the past systems, it could be assumed that it is not exactly clinging to the notion of complete historical species composition. Nonetheless, here local provenance considerations seem to be given a greater attention compared to novel ecosystems discourse (Higgs et al. 2014; Perring et al. 2015). As for ecosystem functions and services, these goals are becoming more and more established in planning practice (Hallett et al. 2013; Perring et al. 2015), thus it is unlikely that they would disappear from the restoration discourse, especially given the importance of ecosystem services in the general environment/nature narratives (MA 2005; Norgaard 2010; UN 2015). The obvious direction is increased understanding of delivery of such goals and their interaction with other restoration aspects, e.g. self-sustainability of biodiversity.
Given its attempt to balance history and the future changes in restoration objectives it is tempting to consider this history-as-guide approach as a middle ground between traditional historical restoration and novel ecosystems (futuristic) discourses. Historical state discourse, however, does not appear to be dislocated. Even the proponents of novel ecosystems accept that we simply know more about historical restoration and “[s]hort-term targets of known, historic ecosystems may minimize the risk of making things worse” (Jackson & Hobbs 2009 p. 568). Moreover, novel ecosystems discourse as a whole is about shifts in ecosystems and human influence in driving these shifts. Given this, it is not surprising that critics point out that most if not all ecosystems in the world have been affected by human activities to
34 a greater or lesser extent (statement also espoused by novel ecosystems proponents) and should thus be considered novel, essentially making the label irrelevant (Mateos 2013). There is a catch, however: if all ecosystems are novel, where that leaves historical ecosystems? According to Marris and colleagues, all ecosystems being novel means “chucking out” historical fidelity as a goal and instead adopting site- specific goals focusing on goods and functions (2013 p. 347) – the latter proposal is articulated by history- as-guide as well. It is obvious that in many cases these delineations are determined based on social values rather than some ecological criteria, whether we are talking about novel ecosystems or establishing historical reference state. Finally, ecosystems are ever-changing and never static – a concept encountered across the restoration discursive space, but with which historical state discourse remains to be reconciled. This could be achieved by subsuming history-as-guide articulations. In other words, instead of being a middle ground approach, history-as-guide discourse might be incorporated into historical state restoration: the resulting new discourse (or an upgraded version of the old one) would continue to promote historical continuity and historical fidelity while also being mindful of associated criticisms.
The concepts that are poised to become more prominent and better articulated in this new discourse include resilience and self-sustainability. Recently, the latter has been promoted as a major goal by Suding and colleagues (2015); conversely, Wiens & Hobbs (2015) argue that ecosystem sustainability is very hard to achieve and restored systems require continuous and constant management. While mentions in other sources usually refer to impossibility of historical systems to be sustainable in the future, it is likely that with the growing importance of long-term thinking in restoration, we will soon see a more comprehensive debate on the self-sustainability of any restored systems. In turn, restoration for resilience primarily refers to improving ecosystem’s capacity to cope with stress and disturbance of environmental changes (Standish et al. 2014); however, it would usually only be mentioned in passing among other goals (despite already being included among the attributes of restored systems in SER Primer [SER 2004 p. 3]). Given all the debates about the inevitability of climatic changes and unsustainability of the historical restoration, resilience seems to be a relevant concept to discuss. It is already receiving greater attention, and is considered among the concepts expected to be further incorporated in restoration in the future (Standish et al. 2014; Perring et al. 2015).
5.1.5. Conclusion
In the discussion about restoration objectives historical state represents a hegemonic discourse. As mentioned above, its critics articulate historical state as “nostalgic recompositions of the past” (Choi 2007 p. 352) and “ecosystems as particular assemblages in particular places” (Hobbs, Higgs & Harris 2009 p. 604). Over the last decade (and also earlier) traditional historical restoration has attracted
35 copious criticism as being impractical, costly, anachronistic – the dominant discourse is thus being contested. By bringing together a set of criticisms, novel ecosystems have presented the most prominent counter-discourse. Those developing the concept have, however, focused primarily on challenging historical state discourse to make their arguments appear more legitimate, instead of proposing concrete and practical solutions. In turn, the novel ecosystems discourse has in its own right been vehemently criticised – the main concern being that abandoning the objective of historical fidelity may undermine the importance of restoration as a subset of conservation. Consequently, what appears to be happening at the moment is the contestation of many different concepts relating to a number of different discourses. The (emerging) result of this chaos of debates, power struggles and controversy is the reconciliation of the two major clashing ideas: first, the key role of historical reference state in restoration, and secondly, inevitability of climatic and other human-caused environmental changes, which preclude bringing back complete original ecosystems. And indeed, another storyline is being articulated, where “[r]estoration is informed by the past and future” (Suding et al. 2015 p. 638). It again puts a greater emphasis on the history, but treats it as a guide and information source, rather than an ultimate target of restoration. Future changes and challenges are also recognised and incorporated. This history-as-guide discourse might be considered a middle ground between novel and historical ecosystems discourses. It is, however, more likely that the history-as-guide arguments will be incorporated into the dominant historical state restoration discourse to produce an arguably more realistic and practical discourse. This suggests that the criticisms of historical restoration, although brought together under novel ecosystems, have not dislocated the former discourse (albeit encouraged an extensive debate).
36 5.2. Academic interviews
In addition to literature analysis I also interviewed select ecologists from different academic institutions in Perth and asked them specifically about attempts to restore historical ecosystems as well as their opinions about novel ecosystems. This section primarily attempts to underline the academic interviews’ similarities with discourses in the literature while also making a bridge from theoretical restoration to restoration in practice. Although researcher views regarding the concepts mirrored those expressed in the literature, not surprisingly in the interviews they were less black-and-white, mostly due to being infused with the awareness of the local context and practical, on-the-ground activities. This is exactly the reason behind the decision to discuss the academic interviews separately from the literature – they very much highlight the pragmatic considerations involved in restoration, both those outlined and overlooked by the theory. Thus, 5.2. is also intended to be seen as a bridge between purely theoretical restoration literature discussions and the analysis of the concepts guiding restoration in practice (5.3. and 5.4.)
When asked about restoring ecosystems to some historical state, academics reiterated the argument advocated in the literature: “It’s a lovely aim to have in theory, but you have to be practical as well, giving our changing climate and the different environment that we are in8”. Similar statements were usually coupled with “the different environment” examples in order to support the argument of unsustainability of historical state restoration:
“If we’re going to have 60 percent of our rainfall from now on, then we can’t expect to have the same ecosystem that is there now in our reference sites.” A3
“Salt-affected land in the Wheatbelt is one of the few examples, I think, and this is on a global scale, [of] a threshold that’s irreversible. It’s really really hard to get to what it was before.” A2
“(…) the reality of invasive species in Australia is that we’re stuck with them. You have to make decisions about which ones to manage and which ones to live with. And for me it’s a real case of novel ecosystems.” A5
“In urban areas and in semi-rural areas we have a huge problem with kangaroos and rabbits, because as the urbanisation expands the habitat for kangaroos reduces and so they are all forced into national parks and reserves. So the grazing pressure is so much greater than it used to be.” A3
8 A3
37
What the academics primarily argued for in the interviews was the recognition that the environmental conditions have changed and will continue to change, which consequently requires adjustments to how we think about restoration, and in turn history. For example, somewhat surprisingly nostalgia for the past, while largely dismissed in the literature, in the interviews emerged as a valid argument for historical restoration. That is, however, not to say that such restoration is being promoted; what we actually see is rather the opposite: “[W]e should not give up. Yet we need to also be explicit about what’s possible9”. Interviewees asked questions and attempted to provide the answers explaining the dominance of the historical restoration (e.g. “if established ecological principles, such as eradication of all weedy species, are abandoned we are accepting defeat” notion10; greater intrinsic value of historical systems11; assumption that local provenance species are better adapted to local conditions12, and others), while at the same time broadening the understanding of “what’s possible”.
On the one hand, as established above, “what’s possible” means being realistic (or pragmatic, practical) as “the climate is changing and often [the] biological, abiotic thresholds have been crossed, so it’s very difficult to get [the] system back13”. The other side of the same coin is, of course, what are we then getting instead of the historical system. Consider this excerpt:
“It’s a bit different, I think, when you’ve got highly disturbed systems (…) The situation’s changed so much that the local provenance cannot survive in that area anymore; then you have to make a difficult choice: are you going to try and maintain something that may not have a future or you’re going to have something that’s going to have some ecosystem function and be able to provide value in that area. Personally, I think it’s better to go down there, I don’t have a problem, especially in urban ecosystems with novel ecosystems. Because…for goodness sake, we don’t even think twice about putting a road down or planting an oleander bush in the middle of our garden. Why in the very next patch we are so upset that this is not going to be a native species?” A8
Here I would like to draw attention to two things. First, the valuable alternative is restoring for some ecosystem function, just as was discussed in the literature in the novel ecosystems discourse. This was expressed by other interviewees as well, although similarly succinctly as in the excerpt above. Secondly, the academic here makes a point of stressing that “[they don’t] have a problem” with non-local provenance, in this case. I encountered similar phrasing in other interviews as well when this particular issue was being addressed, for example: “Me personally I’m not averse to restoring something different
9 A1 10 A1 11 A2 12 A2 13 A3 38
from what was there before if everyone agrees that that’s a good idea and there’s value attached to that system14”; “So [practitioners] are realistic and they have to be because they can’t possibly get to historical state. I don’t see that as a bad thing. Everybody needs to aim for something and try to attain it15”. In my opinion, such wording was quite telling: these statements were not necessarily defensive, however, the fact that there was a need to utter them implies that the dominant discourse is still very much about historical restoration. Thus, pursuing anything other than the original historical state might still often be seen as a problem, a bad thing, something to be averse to.
This brings us to novel ecosystems, which in the literature represent the accumulation of criticisms against the historical state discourse. Of course, in the above paragraphs we already dealt with such systems; recognising difficulties to attain historical state and thus pursuing restoration of “something different from what was there before” already means managing novel ecosystems. Going back to the “be explicit about what’s possible” statement, novel ecosystems represent not only “realistic” alternative, but also might have values in themselves, which are not necessarily obvious (but assumed to be possible). Let me illustrate this with the following excerpts:
“Like most people I’m attracted to things I saw in the past, too. I would hate, for example, if the cockatoos would disappear from Perth. I derive enjoyment from seeing those birds on almost daily basis, it’s really hard to imagine life without them. (…)
[discussing why novel ecosystems have divided academic community so much] Perhaps (…) conservationists who think about traditional historical ecosystems place the most value on those and don’t see there being a value in a modified system, even if it’s providing habitat for Carnaby’s cockatoo. As systems invaded by pine trees sometimes do or even the pine trees in the plantations themselves.” A2
This presents a throwback to the mention of nostalgia. Carnaby’s cockatoos are rare endangered species, whose population is rapidly diminishing due to disappearing habitat; improving cockatoos’ habitats is thus among the restoration goals of many projects in the Perth metropolitan area. Building on that sense of nostalgia and wish to protect the cockatoos, here the academic also introduces the idea that not only historical, but also novel ecosystems can be valuable for this purpose. Other interviewees extended this notion further: “I actually think it [novel ecosystems] is really valuable from a perspective of not seeing human influence as being negative all the time and seeing opportunity for conservation or restoration in those systems16"; “I think that’s the reality of restoration – we can’t go back and things
14 A2 15 A3 16 A6 39 have changed and that’s fine17”. This reflects the overall positive viewing of novel ecosystems. One academic does mention the “anything goes18” pitfall, popular among novel ecosystems critics (i.e. “slippery slope” argument in 5.1.3.) However, in general, following the interviewees’ main argument of being “realistic in terms of climate change19”, a good restoration practice considers the current environmental conditions and aims to have a system that has “value attached20” to it. Qualms about system being historical or novel or otherwise thus appear to be pushed to the background, as highlighted by the pervasive language of pragmatism.
In fact, in the interviews the whole thinking about restoration is very utilitarian. Similar to the literature multiple values of history are being recognised, for example, one academic said that “historical baselines are not very useful in restoration goal setting. In understanding what’s changed and why, then they’re good21”. Another researcher in turn considered history-as-guide “a good approach”, also recognising its usefulness in informing restoration: “So an ecosystem has worked in whatever way in the past due to the relationships that built up over time, so there must definitely be learnings to be had from there.22” However, here the arguments diverge from the literature: the interviewee not only reiterated that trying to go back to some past state is questionable, but also added that the same applies to “being tied to” history-as-guide approach “as such”. They said that “it’s very important to have references, but those references don’t necessarily need to be some historic composition.23” The latter is echoed across interviews, but primarily when considering examples of highly disturbed ecosystems (urban, mining, Wheatbelt), for example:
“[W]e should stop looking at urban places as a sense of what is lost and understand what it is as a habitat. (…) Just because it used to be a forest, doesn’t mean we should think that it should be a forest. It’s that reference question.” A1
“If you talk to mining company’s environmental officers they might not have heard of novel ecosystems, but they are not going to be attaining a reference state, because some of their residue pits are so hostile that you’re never going to get to a state that it used to be in. (…) There’s a mining company I was working for (…), they have residue ponds and the pH is 11. You know, hardly anything will grow on that. When it drops down to 9, we start trying to grow plants. Only certain plants will survive in there. We just have to be realistic.” A3
17 A5 18 A6 19 A3 20 A2 21 A5 22 A6 40 23 A6
“Salinity is obviously quite a large issue in the southwest of WA and that may prevent a return to any historic reference state. So then, I think, you are looking at even potentially wider [scale] then WA, what kind of systems work on that kind of land and trying to restore based on those kinds of references.” A6
This brings us back to the beginning of the section, where the unsustainability of the idea of bringing back the past was supported by examples of the major environmental changes in WA. Furthermore, the examples of changes in conditions are also in fact invoked to argue for pursuing restoration objectives that are very different from historical ecosystems. While the value of history is somewhat recognised, this notion as a part of history-as-guide discourse (5.1.4.) is not really articulated in the interviews, as demonstrated by the fact that historical continuity is not considered to be a restoration objective by most of the academics. One of the history-as-guide ideas that is advocated – the one also shared with novel ecosystems – is, of course, the importance of a realistic, practical restoration in the light of climatic and other changes (expressed in practice as using non-local provenance plants, no complete eradication of all invasive species etc.) These real and novel systems are recognised as also having value and presenting the best way to deal with the given environmental circumstances. The findings presented in this section therefore demonstrate that although history is considered important and nostalgia arguments could be identified, the notion that historical restoration is impractical and unrealistic –fuelled by the inescapable reality of climate change – dominates.
41 5.3. Planning restoration
The remainder of Chapter 5 will build on the previous sections which analysed restoration discourses in the literature and academic interviews, and will investigate how the ideas, concepts and storylines present in these discourses are translated into restoration practice. In the sections “Planning restoration” (5.3.) and “Doing restoration” (5.4.) the aim is to answer the second research question:
What discourses manifest themselves in restoration practice? What concepts and types of knowledge can be identified in these discourses?
In the section that follows, I analyse interviews with restoration practitioners and volunteers working in the Perth metropolitan area to identify the objectives and approaches of their restoration projects. In my discussion I attempt to relate these findings to the discourses of historical and novel ecosystems, and characterise the specific items (concepts, storylines, ideas) in the interviews that fall in line with this conceptual framework established in the academic part of the Results.
5.3.1. Goals of restoration projects in the Perth metropolitan area
Setting goals is one of the most important steps in any restoration project. Therefore, it is no surprise that restoration goals and objectives as well as the rationale behind them have been a focus of various studies (for example, see Ehrenfeld 2000; Hobbs 2007; Hallett et al. 2013). During my interviews with restoration practitioners and volunteers I also wanted to learn about the objectives they have set for their projects – to see as well how they relate to the theoretical debates on restoration objectives. As one would expect, projects usually have a suite of goals; goals are also very project and site dependent. Moreover, for the same site local government’s environmental officer might have different goals than a community volunteer group or a hired restoration professional. Despite this diversity a few common storylines could be identified. First of all, when it comes to restoration in the urban setting of the Perth metropolitan area, the objectives are very conservation-focused, with restoration activities targeted to improve remaining intact bushland patches. “Preserving what’s already there24”, “keep[ing] it the way it is25”, “preventing any further decline26” are recurring sentiments and also expected, given the fact that about 70 per cent of the native banksia woodlands of the Swan Coastal Plain have been lost and continue to disappear at an alarming rate (Urban Bushland Council WA Inc 2016). Restoration of degraded adjacent patches is thus predominantly seen as a mean to protect remaining intact areas:
24 P10, V4 25 V3 26 P1 42
“What we’re really doing is trying to buffer conservation values of those areas. If we have a site, for example, which is 80 per cent in good or very good condition [according to Keighery vegetation condition scale], but 20 per cent in degraded condition, we’ll slowly try and convert that degraded into good. And our target is generally to have the majority of vegetation in our conservation reserves to be good or better condition.” P8
“[W]e have lots of large intact bushland on the coastal plain and I guess that's our focus – trying to protect those areas and restore the degraded patches within them. So it's really about protection of intact areas.” P2
Prioritisation of such goals could also be explained by limited availability of resources (primarily financial and labour). For example, “we’re such a small group that we can’t be too ambitious” noted one of the volunteers to explain her group’s objectives of “preservation, trying to keep it as a good area of bush27”. The mentioned Keighery vegetation condition scale as well as Kaesehagen vegetation condition scale, both designed in 1994, are commonly used to evaluate the condition of natural areas in the Perth metropolitan area (Casson, Downes & Harris 2009; also see Appendix 4). Keighery scale focuses on vegetation structure, effect of disturbance and weed presence. For example, Excellent condition is described as “Vegetation structure intact; disturbance affecting individual species; weeds are non- aggressive species”, Very good – “Vegetation structure altered; obvious signs of disturbance” and Good – “Vegetation structure significantly altered by very obvious signs of multiple disturbances. Retains basic vegetation structure or ability to regenerate it”. Kaesehagen scale includes similar elements, but also indicates percentages of flora composition and/or weedy species cover making evaluations more quantifiable (e.g. Fair to Good condition area should have 50 to 80 per cent native flora composition, while weeds should cover 5 to 20 per cent of the area). In Keighery scale natural area with no signs of disturbance is labelled Pristine; this as well as “native species” juxtaposition with “weeds” in the descriptions of different conditions, and “regeneration of basic vegetation structure” are all consistent with conservation narrative and traditional historical state discourse.
On the other hand, “intact” vegetation structure and “ability to regenerate it” also point to the concepts of ecosystem stability and resilience, the importance of which is slowly growing in restoration discourses. Resilience as a goal, however, was articulated only by two interviewees and also mentioned by another practitioner during the outing with CVG1 to Banksia Woodland reserve at Murdoch University for vegetation conditioning (“[We] want to improve resilience to disturbance28”). Resilience here is understood as the capacity of the ecosystem to cope with various environmental changes, such
27 V4 28 P15, fieldnotes
43 as “declining rainfall and increasing urban development29”; or, as a result of restored resilience, ecosystems being “no longer vulnerable to weed invasion30”. With only a few mentions it is hard to draw any conclusions about resilience as a restoration goal in the context of my study area. However, the lack of mentions can also be seen as a result in line with expectations from the literature. Resilience has many different definitions and the concept still requires better scientific understanding to be more substantially taken up and incorporated by the practitioners (Hallett et al. 2013; Standish et al. 2014). Lastly, although the concept was not explicitly identified there, the idea of resilience may also be recognised in the discussion about the goals to increase biodiversity (see below).
Secondly, in addition to restoration’s role in preservation and conservation of the greater bushland or wetland areas, goals relating to the revegetation of the restoration site itself were also outlined. Predictably, in the context of historical state discourse, these goals focus on local, native and endemic species or plant communities. Somewhat striking, however, is the nostalgic and vague notion to “replicate what should be there31” at the core of articulated restoration objectives. For example, when asked about any changes in planning or actions in response to climate change one practitioner said that “most of the time we are still trying to recreate what should’ve been there or what should be there now32”. “Reconstructing ecosystems that were there33”, “original state (…) return to its natural state34” as well as numerous bring and put back (whether components of or whole ecosystem, selected species or functions) also points to a clear historical state focus. This will be discussed in more detail and also in relation to the concept of provenance and responses to climate change in the subsequent sub- sections.
That said, the more easily measurable objectives of increasing indigenous plant biodiversity (and also indirectly fauna), as well as creation of habitats for endangered species, primarily Carnaby’s and Red- tailed black cockatoos, and eradicating weeds were also prominent. Habitat connectivity and increased ecosystem health and sustainability (stability, resilience) through increased diversity (following Tilman 1996) were some of the concepts employed to support these goals. In the interviews, however, these were undermined by the numbers to be achieved, such as density targets, percentage survival or percentage native species returned (in reference to species list for the site, 5.3.3.) Greater focus on ecosystem processes and functions as outcomes of restoration, as opposed to biodiversity goals, is characteristic of novel ecosystems discourse. When functions were mentioned in the interviews, there
29 P8 30 P2 31 P11 32 P9 33 P7 34 CVG2, fieldnotes 44
was little elaboration on the specific ecological functions to be restored; only cultural, educational and aesthetic ones were described in more detail. What is interesting about the discussion on ecosystem functions, however, is that it seems to usually emerge in juxtaposition to the idea of historical restoration – just as it does in novel ecosystems discourse in the literature – rather than part of the critique, where functions as goals are seen as undermining the restoration for biodiversity’s intrinsic value:
“We’re reconstructing the ecosystems that were there and trying to get the function in. Not with all of the original components because you can’t get all the plants growing back.” P7
“[W]e might not be aiming for the complete composition of the native flora, we’d functionally would want to put back an edge that has components of that vegetation type, but it’s actually functionally protecting it from disturbing factors.” P2
Above examples imply difficulty or even impossibility to restore original suite of species, but this, however, would not necessarily prevent delivery of important ecological functions. Furthermore, one practitioner contrasted the biodiversity and functional goals in a different way, pointing out that the latter objectives have been undermined for too long to a detriment of restoration success:
“[W]hat’s the point of putting species back if they’re not supplying food or they can’t [stabilise] the surface (…) [need] function working there, otherwise you’re just revegetating, putting plants there. [It] might not be sustainable in that regard.” P6
Finally, while the limited ability to recover “complete composition of the native flora” has been discussed by most of the interviewees (see section 5.3.2.), a similar critical treatment is not applied to the restoration of functions (i.e. we might or might not be able to restore ecosystem functions, because…). This could be explained by the overall lack of discussion about ecological functions and the fact that I did not ask respondents specifically about such a type of objectives for the projects. However, the same is true for goals relating to increase in biodiversity. And yet there were not only numerous unprompted mentions, but also substantial explanations when it came to the latter.
It should be noted, however, that restoration of functions is mentioned readily when listing project goals. This implies that the concept has taken hold in the narrative of goal setting, but possibly its understanding, application and measurement in practice are still lacking. Consider the following excerpt:
Here I decided to change the topic and asked what would she say were the objectives of the restoration of the wetlands. While she was thinking about her answer, one of the volunteers piped in (we have by then returned back to where they were working): “Restore function and
45 biodiversity!” To this [practitioner] replied by saying that they have unfortunately no resources to know if they are actually improving certain functions, e.g. water quality. The main “angle”, or what they are aiming to achieve through their activities, is that “introduced plants [are] replaced by natives”. Putting biodiversity back into the system was also something she mentioned, which is not only planting plants, but also allowing fauna to return. Another very important objective is raising awareness about wetlands and creating a training facility. This education aspect was mentioned multiple times. (P16, fieldnotes)
Removal of invasive weeds and replacing them with native species is an easier to measure, more tangible objective. Measuring of restored functions, conversely, might require additional resources as well as knowledge. Moreover, (positive) changes to vegetation composition and structure are actually clearly visible and thus more comprehensible for public using the area, investors providing the funds, as well as volunteers working on the site. During my visit described in the excerpt above, I was showed photographs of the restored wetlands over the years: The photos and changes were very impressive, I couldn’t contain my excitement. It’s hard not to be moved, they have done an enormous job so far35. That visual element of ecosystem recovery is a significant part of the allure of restoration, as is the promise to bring back the past, one that is free of “introduced plants” and dominated by “natives”, for instance.
5.3.2. Obstacles to bringing back the past
“I don’t think you could bring it back to what it was because we had vast areas of [undisturbed] land and now we obviously have development or only have small patches. The best thing you can do is try to create a representation of what was here beforehand and try to get a lot of…install a lot of those ecological functions, those processes back.” P10
“I think it’s useful to have a historical reference to give you something to work towards, to give you some indication of where you might like to be. But I think equally there needs to be a recognition that it’s very difficult to achieve that.” P8
“It is possible. We try and do that, but we also realise that the climate is changing, having the adaptability there is key.” P9
“In terms of original communities that would’ve existed prior to European settlement? I don’t know that we’re in a position here to go back that far, we don’t have the historic data to actually give us that information. So again it’s a bit of that sense of similar veg[etation] communities that would work and take a look at those and get a sense of what should grow in there.” P3
35 P16, fieldnotes
46
Despite the clear historical, nostalgic focus present in the objectives that I have identified previously, when asked directly about restoration of historical state, majority of interviewees expressed their doubts about the feasibility of such undertaking (see quotes above). It should be mentioned that for urban projects pre-settlement, pre-European state appears to be an obvious and popular historical baseline (in contrast to, for example, rehabilitation following mining operations where baseline is predominantly set to pre-mine state). The articulated reasons for not being able to bring back this past were varied, but could mostly be grouped into two categories.
First of all, environmental changes since the arrival of Europeans have been extensive and nowadays conditions at the restoration sites vary significantly and thus may not anymore support the historical systems. Changes to soil conditions36, habitat fragmentation37, modifications to fire regime38, urban development39, weed invasion40, Phytophthora dieback and other diseases41 were mentioned as the key system changes preventing historical restoration. By and large, however, climate change was considered as the greatest obstacle to recover historical ecosystems (and it may also exacerbate some of the other listed factors, e.g. diseases, weeds). Climate change discussion is also different from the rest as it appears to be more related to the future than the past, often involving considerations of adaptations and eventual changes to restoration planning and activities on the ground. In my assessment, this is due to the fact that current restoration activities are already firmly set on fixing the damage from or alleviating the impacts of the other disturbing factors mentioned above. Climate change, in contrast, has only relatively recently been recognised as a serious threat by restorationists in the southwest WA. Therefore, currently the primary focus is on what climate change means to the future of the restoration enterprise itself, rather than the role of restoration in mitigating climate change. Somewhat related is the recognition that systems are dynamic and change is inevitable (with or without the current anthropogenic climate change), thus making it futile to aim for the complete historicity. While apparent in the literature, this rationale is barely articulated in the interviews42, however. It appears that if not for the severity of environmental changes experienced to date, historical state would be the ultimate goal of restoration projects (as opposed to future-focussed thinking outlined in the novel ecosystems discourse).
36 V2, CVG3 37 P16 38 P2, P16, V4 39 P7, P10 40 P2, P16, V2, CVG2 41 P9, V2 47 42 Uttered only in V2 and P6 by an ecological sciences student and a restoration ecology PhD respectively
Secondly, accurate replication of the original systems may simply be prevented by the lack of available historical data and insufficient ecological knowledge. It is difficult to know all the components of the ecosystem being restored because on the one hand, there are few records describing pre-disturbance conditions (“[A]s far back as we can really go. [But] how accurate is that? Who knows43”, “Who knows what was here before44”), and on the other hand, due to the aforementioned environmental changes even the intact ecosystems might be only subpar references. Furthermore, inability to propagate certain species (usually by the contracted nurseries) is mentioned by a significant number of respondents and can be considered a lack of knowledge and a major barrier to active restoration, limiting restorationists’ ability “to assist the return of species45”.
Concepts of reference (section 5.3.3.) and especially provenance (section 5.3.4.) further articulate the historical state discourse through the use of historical species lists and pursuing revegetation with local plant material. In addition, section 5.3.5. will in greater detail cover current responses to climate change, especially the ideas surrounding deliberate introduction of non-native species from more arid regions.
5.3.3. Reference and species lists
This is how SER Primer (2004) describes the concept of reference: “A reference ecosystem or reference serves as a model for planning a restoration project, and later for its evaluation” (p. 8), and “(…) the restored ecosystem is eventually expected to emulate the attributes of the reference, and project goals and strategies are developed in light of that expectation” (p. 5). Hence, reference is closely related to the objectives of the restoration projects. In fact, in practice objectives are often agreed upon by selecting a reference ecosystem after which the restored system will be modelled (Hallett et al. 2013). In addition, ecosystem composition, structure and function of restoration site should all be reflected in the reference(s) (SER 2004; SERA 2015). Reference does not necessarily have to take a form of a specific model site, however; it can also be a written record (site descriptions, species lists, photographs) or use elements of both (SER 2004).
In the interviews with practitioners and volunteers one component of the reference concept that was predominantly mentioned to be in use was species lists. These were based on local and/or regional flora surveys, whether done historically over time or, less often, specifically for the restoration project in question. In some cases, it was literally a list of local endemic species that were known to occur on that site, and this would then be guiding restoration activities. In several instances a particular location
43 P4 44 P16 45 A1 48
(usually nearby) was implied to present a reference for the site being restored (but again only in terms of species), for example:
They use plants from adjacent wetlands that are not actually currently found at Bibra Lake, for example. They assume that they were here as well beforehand, but as this wetland was much heavier grazed than the others, not all species are present here anymore. (P16, fieldnotes)
Soil associations, vegetation condition maps, aerial photographs were some of the other tools mentioned to be in use to establish species lists as well as baseline for vegetation structure. Planting ratios for overstory, midstory and understory layers were also noted occasionally, with either shrub or undergrowth layers dominating the percentages. On multiple occasions interviewees criticised the general tendency for ratios to be skewed towards overstory (i.e. large trees) in restoration plantings. In turn, less attention is given to the more dominant layers in the southwest’s typical Mediterranean-type ecosystems, especially understory (midstory being easier to establish in practice).
Overall, however, in the interviews the concept of reference was not very prominent, while the idea of the use of reference ecosystem as a standard for restoration practice was hardly articulated. So for example, “use the better condition bush as a reference for the objectives [volunteer group] can hope to achieve in areas that are in lesser condition46” was rather a one-off than a common approach. In several instances I had to describe in detail what I meant by the term ‘reference’ (somewhat undermining the identifying of how the concept guides the practice from the interviewee’s perspective). In some cases, the understanding of the reference was quite different from that established in the literature, e.g. one practitioner talked about 2015 being “a first year [they] actually planted into a reference site47” (although they also said that “the reference site reflects planting sites”, which is more characteristic of the concept). Some interviewees also insisted that they were not using reference sites, for example:
“No, I haven’t. It’s something that I’ve thought about, but I haven’t actually ever done it. But at the same time we would have a list of species for the site, we would have plot data for a lot of sites and we would look at those and that would be our guide. Rather than formally saying this is what we’re trying to do. So that would be our guide. But most of the time we’re just putting back components in the disturbed areas.” P2
The last sentence of this excerpt is especially telling and, in my opinion, summarises well what is happening here with the reference concept. If you recall from earlier, novel ecosystems discourse argues for abandoning reference concept entirely as it is equalled to historical state (5.1.3.) However,
46 P15 47 P3
49 practitioners and volunteers rely on species lists (and some other cues) as well as their (comprehensive) understanding of the workings of the typical ecosystems of the southwest WA. I would be hard pressed to claim that reference as a concept is completely scraped as it did come up in the interviews and its elements are present in the discourse and the practice. However, the concept, as it is understood in restoration literature, has not been institutionalised.
5.3.4. Provenance for genetic integrity
When designing species lists a concept of provenance often comes into consideration. In its simplest form, the term ‘provenance’ means ‘the place of origin’. In the context of ecological restoration it usually refers to the origin of the plants that are used to revegetate restoration sites. Based on the literature, the concept of local provenance could be summarised as follows: seeds are collected from the local area within a certain radius to ensure genetic purity, as it is assumed that local plants are best adapted to local conditions, which would in turn result in highest survival rates (Harris et al. 2006; Jordan & Lubick 2011; Perring et al. 2015). It also ensures ecosystem authenticity, thus obviously forming a part of the discourse of historical state (Jordan & Lubick 2011). In the literature, which highlights the changing environment and unsustainability of historical restoration, sticking to provenance in general is considered a questionable approach, one “consigning restoration projects to a genetic dead end that does not allow for the rapid adaptation to changed circumstances” (Harris et al. 2006 p. 174). It is also “not necessarily based on good science” (Lovett et al. 2008 p. 50).
In the southwest WA in restoration practice provenance is certainly seen as a key concept (“So not only we’re having the right species, we’re actually having the right ones from the [local] area, which is quite important48”). However, it is also not as straightforward as “insisting on the exclusive use of local material” (Harris et al. 2006 p. 174) as assumed in the literature. There are arguments pro and against both local as well as non-local provenance, all largely grounded in (knowledge about) genetics.
First, provenance indeed remains a “priority49” and a focus in the projects: “try keep the genetics in the park50”, “we’re actually putting back into reserves the same genetic stock51”, “genetic integrity is important52”. Interviewees, both those sourcing seed material only from their immediate locality and those urging for spreading out, articulated the preservation of local genetics as the main rationale of following local provenance. This is understandably of great importance in the megadiverse southwest WA, where “seeds of native plants don’t spread easily, so little pockets of particular species or subspecies
48 V4 49 P6 50 P4 51 P1 52 P9 50
form”, and thus “mixing up this genetic diversity” could be seen as damaging from biodiversity conservation point of view53. It is here where the specificities of the region might make all the difference in the practice approaches (and possibly explain the focus on the historical restoration), because significant genetic differences in some species might emerge within just a few kilometres, for example, “[in] grasstrees [Xanthorrhoea spp.] after within about 8 km you start seeing genetic variations54” (and thus “we won’t source hill seed and use it on a coastal plain project, even if they’re the same species as there55”). In turn, as stated by one volunteer group leader, if you plant wrong things in the wrong places, you mess up the local seed bank56, further precluding successful restoration and conservation. When working in the reserves, plant material is usually sourced within their boundaries; in other cases, sourcing radii ranging from 5 to 10 km from the restoration site were cited most often in the interviews (but could go up to 30 km).
To reiterate, “try and preserve local genetics57” is the dominant argument in the provenance narrative. Conversely, the argument expected from the literature about the supposed better adaptation of local plants is not actually present. In all of the interviews this argument was clearly articulated only once:
“Our feeling is use the plants that are adapted to the local environment to get better results there. We may not improve the genetic pool, but at least in short-term we know it’s going to yield better results. Especially if we got a large population to actually sample from and recover seed from.” P9
This is an especially interesting excerpt: superficially it appears to be supporting the assumption that provenance is generally pursued because these plants are better suited to local environment. The critics’ argument against the insistence on provenance in restoration practice stems from the fact that due to climate change in the future the environment is expected to be changing too fast for the local plants to keep up and adapt. This is exactly what the practitioner alluded to when talking about better yields in short-term (while plants are still able to cope with local conditions). Nevertheless, the passage also implies that they might actually be pro non-local provenance (while also being pro-better results, which provenance might provide at the moment). The main argument of practitioners who urge to spread out and source plant material for restoration projects from larger areas is in fact the increased adaptation capacity to cope with the changing conditions, i.e. “improv[ing] the genetic pool”, and ensure higher survival – which is rather the opposite from what the literature is assuming about practitioners. During my visit to Wireless Hill I observed a nice example of this:
53 P5, fieldnotes 54 P9 55 P9 56 CVG2, fieldnotes 57 P6 51
He said that the seed of the jarrah [Eucalyptus marginata] they are planting is supplied by Alcoa - the company has selected seed from plants noted as being dieback-resistant in infected areas. When I asked about the fact that those jarrahs that they are planting here are not genetically similar to local jarrahs, [practitioner] remarked that it’s “either this or no jarrahs” – disease would simply kill them. “Our judgement (local council, local community volunteer group and me) is that it is more valuable to have examples of all the large trees species that grow here, rather than be missing local provenance examples because they have been wiped out by a human-introduced pathogen.” (Another eucalypt they are planting, marri [Corymbia calophylla, Figure 7], is naturally dieback resistant.) (P5, fieldnotes)
While the above approach is already solving a very tangible problem, the following quote considers more general circumstances and the benefits the non-local provenance might have:
“I think an interesting thing about [sourcing non-provenance material] is going back to that concept about resilience and building resilience and adaptability. And of course we know that if we maybe are sourcing seed from further afield than 5-10 km perhaps we’re actually providing an adaptive advantage for mutation because we’re outsourcing our genes so much. And that’s interesting in and of itself because as we’re becoming increasingly fragmented we’re probably blocking of a lot of those genetic pathways.” P8
Figure 7 Marri planted in June 2014. Wireless Hill, Ardross, Perth. October 26, 2015. Photo K. Simonaityte.
52 Another side of the same habitat fragmentation coin would be “fairly inbred58” source populations, if they are very isolated, which would also suggest abandoning provenance to improve health and resilience of the restored system. This presents an example of external driver to source from further afield. Although “providing an adaptive advantage” is a prominent argument against local provenance, more often than not outsourcing is a pure necessity rather than an informed, forward-thinking choice. Actually “abid[ing] by the rules59” of provenance in the southwest WA is very difficult. For example, just before the above quoted passage, the practitioner in question explained how in their large scale projects with “10 thousand, 20 thousand, 30 thousand plus numbers [of plants] (…) provenance becomes a moot point extremely quickly”, due to very limited seed resource within the appropriate radius of 5-10 km. Similarly, in the last sentence of the earlier quoted excerpt (P9) this is highlighted by the requirement to have “a large population to actually sample from and recover seed from”.
Lack of available resource is only one of the issues, however. Many of the southwest WA species are recalcitrant – their biology (resprouters) severely complicates both the collection of plant material as well as propagation:
“Then we will select what we’ll put into the site. (…) And we look at (…) also what we can propagate for each area because, as you might’ve heard with some WA natives, propagation can be an issue.” P3
“(…) basically there are not a lot of species that are easy to propagate. So you might have a species list of 300 for particular reserve and you might have 15 species on that list that are easy to collect seed and easy to germinate.” P2
“Also looking as well at what species are commercially available. That plays a big part. There’s no point in including species that people just can’t grow for seed dormancy factors or just difficulty in getting cuttings and things like that.” P9
Finally, provenance might be foregone, accidentally or not, due to taxonomic issues given the exceptionally high local biodiversity: “(…) a lot of the time the taxonomy is just a mess. In WA people have a lot of problems doing identification60”. Most curiously, this misidentification might be deliberately caused by unscrupulous seed collectors:
58 P9 59 P8 60 P2 53
“You’re not guaranteed either that the source of seed that you’re getting, even though they might say it’s from this one, there’s no guarantee it’s that one, they might have mixed it with something else. We don’t know.” P7
“There’s quality, good seed collectors, ethical ones, who do the right thing. But there’s also cowboys too who just want the money. Especially times are tight now, people are tempted to bend the rules, they need the money.” P6
One practitioner also pointed out that since it is not always feasible, due to various aforementioned practical reasons, insisting on “[l]ocal provenance might actually be excluding species (…) and sort of defeating the purpose of diversity61”. Similar argument was echoed by another practitioner: “I don’t mind [using] local provenance, but it shouldn’t stop work happening”. For example: they got their woollybushes (Adenanthos) from further afield but “that’s not a bad thing”. (…) if they order plants from other nurseries, they can sometimes see that they are different than their local variety. Again, not a bad thing. Some species they “don’t have here anymore, but have a record of it being here”, then will buy from the nursery to bring them in62. Third practitioner, who argued that restoring an area with provenance stock only – not introducing any new genetic material – is “the best, the highest end of being a purist”, also recognised that if that is not possible (for whatever reasons) “providing food source and habitat for the native animals is good, regardless of the variation of species63”.
In conclusion, arguments in support of provenance and against non-local provenance are identical and all relating to the mega-diversity of the southwest WA and in turn preservation of genetic differences among different populations of the same species. However, small sizes of source populations, difficulties of germination and propagation and taxonomic complexity are among some of the issues making insistence on local provenance impractical and hindering restoration activities. In addition, some pro-non-local provenance practitioners actively advocate sourcing plant material from further afield in hopes of improving adaptive capacity of the native species given the on-going anthropogenic climate change. Nevertheless, this discussion has still focused predominantly on the Swan Coastal Plain and species found here, which would – importantly – still be considered native. The subsequent section investigates in greater detail the responses of restoration practice to changing climatic conditions – and also takes outsourcing discussion to another level.
61 P6 62 P16, fieldnotes 63 P10 54
5.3.5. Climate change and the future of restoration
Everyone is talking about climate change. For restoration practitioners and volunteers in the southwest WA it is not a vague future threat, but very much a reality: “(…) we still don’t know quite enough [about climate change]. Other than that rainfall has just declined so dramatically64”, “winters have become drier65”, “that’s the biggest challenge for us, drought and heat66”, “because the summer and winter rain is becoming unreliable67”, “The rule of thumb was [planting] after first winter rains which was May, but now have gone to July. The rainfall here has been delayed and delayed and delayed68”. Climate change, materialising in reduced rainfall and increasing temperatures, is considered one of the barriers to recovering historical ecosystems. However, more importantly – and in contrast to other degradation factors – when talking about climate change focus is shifting more towards the future rather than what has happened already. The concerns touch both on what changes might be expected in extant ecosystems and how restoration sector should react to intensifying environmental changes, as this quote illustrates:
“It’s all well and good for me to say we are in north-eastern end of the tuart [Eucalyptus gomphocephala] belt. But if our environmental conditions are projected to be such that our tuart populations as we’re planting them are not going to be doing very well, we need to think about that and accommodate reality.” P1
Consider first “we need to think about that” part. In climate change and restoration discussion this is a common sentiment – respondents acknowledge that climate change is an issue and will need to be addressed. “Will” is the operative word here, however, as currently there is no “guidance69”, “framework70”, “good direction71”, “process for setting priorities72” on how to adapt management practices to deal with climate change. Modification of practices and planning ahead for climate change are also closely related to available research: this “might have to happen depending on what the impacts are” but “it’s going to be a gradual change rather than a clear cut change73”; “We certainly will be addressing that in the future, but really there needs to be more science behind it74”. The dominant
64 P1 65 CVG2, fieldnotes 66 V3 67 P14 68 P6 69 P2 70 P1 71 P10 55 72 P2 73 P9 74 P3
approach towards the climate change issue is to carry on with the familiar restoration activities – only subject to revision if and when new significant knowledge emerges warranting changes in current practices, for instance:
“It’s the same again, it’s protecting the areas that we’ve got and building resilience into them. It’s the best that we can do with the resources that we’ve got.” P2
“I don’t think we’d ever pre-empt what might happen. We just continue to do what we’re doing and hope that what we’re doing is enough for the moment anyway. Unless more information comes about.” P3
There is still uncertainty and speculation about the effects of climatic changes on the southwest WA ecosystems, including those on the Swan Coastal Plain. Practitioners see their plantings struggling to cope with harsher conditions and some have opted to reduce these stresses by supplementary watering the plants (“Volunteers are aware of climate change and their way of responding is more watering75”; “Summer watering of plants has been implemented in recent years to address the drying climate76”), which has led to a large debate in its own right (see section 5.4.3.) Knowledge on whether and what shifts can be expected in species composition in intact ecosystems in the region is lacking, however, as noted by some practitioners. This is of importance to restoration because the practice usually relies on intact ecosystems as well as historical floral surveys to compile species lists to inform plantings in restoration sites. The “reality”, however, might at some point become unsuitable for local native species. If, in turn, new research demonstrates compositional shifts in response to climate change, restoration practice would be expected to reflect that as well to ensure continued high survival rates (meaning, going even beyond non-local provenance sourcing). Bringing in plants from hotter and drier areas of WA thus seems like an obvious solution – it indeed appears to be a key concept among the responses to changing conditions, both present in literature and mentioned by most of the interviewees. This, however, has not yet translated into actual practice and is not likely to do so in the near future – at least among the restorationists interviewed.
Certainly, some respondents were less conservative (for example, one practitioner deliberated the loss of eucalypts and how that could possibly lead to expansion of the banksias “and maybe the banksias are better species instead77”) and many were open to debates and to consider new science and guidelines as these become available as discussed above. Regardless, the narrative of deliberate introduction of
75 CVG2, fieldnotes 76 P14 77 P6 56 species from other regions as a response to climate change in particular is viewed rather negatively and some are especially upset by the idea. One volunteer, who I unexpectedly met one evening in Fremantle while walking to the train station from an event, is an occasional restoration volunteer and has also done a lot of restoration work on her land further east in the Wheatbelt. This is what she thought about the matter:
This has prompted me to ask about climate change and whether it has affected her plantings. Jamie78 grew slightly agitated - the issue has clearly bothered her. She said that she’s “very angry” at those talking on the TV and others telling people to plant non-local plants to deal with climate change. She mentioned cacti, exclaiming how much trouble she had removing all the invasive cacti as it is. Jamie said that she doesn’t watch any gardening shows anymore (something that I haven’t even considered as a knowledge source for these people up until now), because “it’s all business”, “someone’s making good money out of this”, using the rhetoric of climate change to get people to buy these plants. (V5, fieldnotes)
In general, there are two main lines of thinking in this debate which come back to uncertainty and (lack of) knowledge. On the one hand, there is uncertainty about the effect these newcomer species might have on the environment on the Swan Coastal Plain. The above excerpt (and also some practitioners) highlighted the risk of them becoming invasive; interviewees also mentioned loss of habitats for native fauna79 or even further promotion of drought by drought-adapted species (“you can actually kind of create a desert climate if you’re putting in those plants80”).
A significantly more prominent argument, however, uttered by a variety of interviewees was that we should not write off the adaptive capacity of the local native species as it might be greater than expected. At the same time by planting exotic species instead of natives we might possibly be, in one practitioner’s words, “robbing them of the opportunity to adapt”:
“[T]here’s quite a lot of diversity here on the Swan Coastal Plain anyway and within the southwest. I actually think that there’s good opportunity for adaptability within the floristic range that we have. (…) Rather than just bringing in something completely new, I think I’d like to, for the next few years anyway, try and see how our local species adapt to these changing climatic conditions. And I’m hoping we’ll be pleasantly surprised (…) I’m not ready yet to just abandon ship and try
78 All the names of volunteers mentioned in the fieldnote excerpts were changed to preserve their anonymity. 79 P1, P8 80 P10 57
something completely different. We need to give our own local plants a bit more opportunity to thrive or change with conditions.” P8
The following quotes exemplify the same opinion, further highlighting how social and value-laden is the concept of adaptability:
“[W]e shouldn’t really be reacting like that to climate change (…) I think that plants will probably adapt, probably better than us [laughs].” P11
“It’s going to change no matter what, plants are going to adapt. It’s more us that are ‘oh no we don’t want that to happen’; plants are actually more capable of doing a lot more than we think they can.” V2
While the confidence in “adaptive response81” is significant, the unknowns – to what extent species can adapt, which species will be better adapted – are also recognised:
“(…) we keep planting back in and if we’re getting survival, then as time progresses they must be becoming more drought tolerant as well. Whether that will continue, to what extent, who knows.” P4
“How can you maintain it in that way if things are dying? Does it mean you put other things in? We might have to think about that, but I hope it’s not necessary, I hope there’s enough natural species there that at least some of them can maintain themselves for a while.” V4
I hope I have demonstrated sufficiently that the idea of bringing species from more arid areas is very contentious. Contemplating it raises a whole suite of other questions too, for example, how far should we go to source these species (“Do you look further north where the climate’s slightly different or do you look east or do you look international, where do you stop82”). There is undoubtedly an ethical element as well, echoing the arguments of the early environmental restoration philosophers, as espoused in the following quote:
“I guess eventually nature will sort itself out. (…) Giving it a helping hand, I don’t advocate it. We should try to keep what we have got, and are supposed to have for as long as we can. Essentially you are playing God. It’s okay in the local garden concept where you want specific plants around you, but in the greater landscape I don’t see a place for it personally.” P9
81 P8 82 P9
58
“[T]ry to keep what we got for as long as we can” brings us back to that notion of historicity and nostalgic restoration – that is the ultimate goal. In contrast, planting new species and creating new ecosystems is seen as “playing God” and should not be promoted. Interestingly, it is the concept of native species adaptability that is used as the main argument against species from more arid regions. While in the end it is still in restorationists’ hands to decide what species will be planted on the site, by relying on eventual adaptations responsibility to deal with climate change is somewhat shifted to the plants. This is in line with the nostalgic goals of preservation and ideas of bringing back what should be there. This could also explain why the notion of ecosystems being dynamic and ever-changing is not articulated and present across the interviews. Moreover, it also highlights the overall (complicated) relationship that restorationists have with nature: steward setting ecosystem on its ecological trajectory and letting “nature [to] sort itself out” on the one hand; ever present manager adhering to species lists and preservation goals on the other (also see section 5.4.1.) It is important to note that practitioners and volunteers alike considered that ecosystem management is a long-term activity and walking away is not really productive or lead to meeting the set goals. Leaving the site is more often determined by available resources and expiring contracts (in the case of restoration consultants and contractors).
5.3.6. Conclusion
The discussion about provenance and climate change offered in this section complement each other well on the topic of plant adaptations. On the one hand, it is clear that practitioners are rather hostile to the idea of bringing in plants from the regions more arid than the southwest WA as a way to address climate change. In turn, there is a strong expectation that local plants will be able to adapt to projected changes. Nevertheless, in the discussion about provenance the need to extend sourcing of plant material to non-local provenance populations to improve their adaptive capacity is also articulated. Maintenance of high genetic diversity exhibited in the ecosystems of the southwest WA remains the key pro- provenance argument, however, the rationale of best locally adapted populations is already being undermined by the increased recognition of anthropogenic climate change.
This suggests that in general discourse about the planning of restoration lies somewhere in between the two poles of historical state and novel ecosystems discourses. Now, novel ecosystems per se were not discussed in the interviews with practitioners and volunteers, as I identified early on that most of them were not familiar with the concept. However, despite not using the term, most of the discussions above nonetheless relate to the novel ecosystems concept and resonate with the debates in the literature. On the one hand, interviewees recognised that aiming for complete historical fidelity is futile due to the enormous changes to environmental conditions as well as lack of accurate and comprehensive records of past ecosystems. However, when it comes to species composition and
59 ecosystem structure there is a sense of nostalgia as well as responsibility, reflected in the numerous “what was here”, “what should be here” etc., thus presenting a contrast to novel ecosystems discourse and the associated notion of “all ecosystems are dynamic”.
60 5.4. Doing restoration
Then we came across a huge patch of Common woollybush [Adenanthos cygnorum]. It was not planted (they are notoriously hard to propagate), but regenerated naturally (and spectacularly) after the 2008 fire. “If nature decides to do the job, it will do a much better job”, he remarked. (P5, fieldnotes)
In many parts of the world if barriers for regeneration are removed (e.g. restored water regime, supressed grazing etc.), vegetation will return on its own (Jones & Schmitz 2009; Suding 2011). In the southwest WA, however, that is not a rule, but rather an exception, and relying on nature “to do a job” is rarely an option (see Bell 2001). One academic noted that “in fact, we usually have to assist the return of species in this environment83”. This part of the thesis will thus focus precisely on the ways this assistance is carried out – from planting (5.4.1.) to weeding approaches (5.4.2.) to debates over watering (5.4.3.) In the following sections I demonstrate that the notions established in the previous, “Planning restoration”, part (on native species and their characteristics; on preservation of what should be there) are just as evident when the focus is shifted to the actual on-the-ground restoration activities.
5.4.1. Planting
Many aspects of the planting, as part of restoration projects, were already covered in the previous sections: for example, use of species lists to inform what should be planted on the site and the ratios of different vegetation layers (5.3.3. Reference state…); what to plant question was also addressed in 5.3.4. and 5.3.5. when discussing provenance and responses to climate change respectively. What remains is mostly practicalities of the actual revegetation process. These could include planting times (i.e. time of the year), planting densities and specific planting techniques. The latter might refer to both the actual introduction of plant material (e.g. seedling planting, direct seeding, or even soil transplantation) as well as supporting activities – fertilisation, placement (or not) of protective guards and others. Prior to planting there is also other activities to be carried out, such as seed collection, germination and seedling raising in the nurseries. To discuss these, however, in the same way as I have done with the concepts in the previous sections (or will do in the following ones as well) would be both rather difficult as well as not necessarily relevant. First of all, the planting techniques employed are very site and practitioner- specific; everyone more or less follows the same principles, but there is too much variation in details to be able to confidently establish particular storylines. Conversations in the interviews about the planting times and plant material introduction might present sufficient data for analysis. Neither of these, however, have much to do with the restoration objectives or the discourses I am interested in
83 A1
61 unravelling in the performing of the restoration practice. For example, while the start of the planting season (of dryland vegetation) is always associated with the emergence of winter rains, there are still differences among the practitioners when the first plants will actually be put in the ground. These are based on the personal experience and observations over the years, as well as expert advice and general handbook restoration knowledge. Conversely, these decisions do not appear to be directed by any of the concepts established in restoration discourse discussions.
What could still be addressed under the heading of “Doing planting” is, somewhat paradoxically, the concept of natural regeneration. As mentioned in the 5.4. preface, assisted return of species is the default approach to restoration in the southwest WA, due to difficulties of propagating many of the native species. In turn, natural regeneration in the interviews usually came up when discussing recent fires in the managed sites, for example:
“When we had a fire (…) in the first year [after] there were about three species which I’ve never seen before.” V4
“In 2012 we had a fairly major fire here (…) When we go and manage [those areas] (…), we’re spraying for weeds. We haven’t done any planting in there at all, so everything that’s come up and regenerated has been as a result of the fire and the soil seedbank, and re-sprouting.” P3
As noted in Chapter 1 (Introduction), fire is a natural element in the southwest ecosystems, similarly to other Mediterranean-type climate areas. While fire return intervals might differ among different systems (e.g. banksia woodlands, dune systems or eucalyptus woodlands), regeneration of many native species is often triggered by fire (whether by heat, smoke leachate or another associated factor) (Bell 2001). Due to strict fire suppression policies in WA, however, fire is not a viable management option, especially in the urban sites. In turn, fires that do go through natural areas in Perth are usually a result of arson or, occasionally, lightning. While biodiversity outcomes after burns are quite promising, they also have their drawbacks:
“[In our area] there is a fair history of regular fires, so burning every 5-6 years. But what those regular fires do they just encourage grassy species, hence why we’re overrun with [invasive non- native] veldt grass in particular. What it also does – the frequent fires deplete the soil seedbank of all of the species.” P3
Fire not being an option in the restoration toolbox largely explains the dominance of active revegetation in restoration practice in urban areas (some sites might also be too disturbed and not retain any native seedbank and thus demand assistance). On the other hand, a few interviewees stated that natural regeneration can also be achieved simply by weeding and removal of that competition pressure:
62 “Some seem to be very pleased to say ‘we planted 3,000 plants’ but natural regeneration is much better”. When I mentioned that many people say that natural regeneration of the ecosystems here is nearly impossible, you do need to plant, she said that that’s not an issue in the wetland, but also that “weeds are the inhibitor. Even in the bushland. If it’s relatively healthy and intact, by removing weeds you’d still get some regeneration there”. (CVG2, fieldnotes)
Nonetheless, such position was rather an exception. In most cases, “a replacement programme84” is carried out, where removal of invasives is followed up with revegetation with native, usually local provenance species (Figure 8). I am in no position to judge which approach for the particular circumstances of the southwest WA is more appropriate. However, the fact that natural regeneration rarely came up in the interviews, especially as an alternative to planting, can still be considered telling. It points to the storylines of practicality (planting is practical while natural regeneration is not realistic); active revegetation also allows (largely) to predict the outcome of restoration since the species list is determined in advance. This simplifies monitoring and evaluation of success, and ensures that “what should be there”-type restoration activities will indeed be delivered (because who knows what will regenerate naturally).
The next section will look into a different type of control of vegetation – weeding of invasive, non-native species – to further determine what should be found at restoration sites.
Figure 8 Plantings in Banksia Woodland reserve. November 28, 2015. Photo K. Simonaityte.
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5.4.2. Weeding
“[G]ladioli is actually a weed. What happens if you don’t remove it…because they are very opportunistic and they become weeds, because they can adapt and they can thrive in a wide variety of situations and they spread. When that happens, it means that native plants have to compete with weeds for water, nutrients, sunlight or shade.” P1
“And another [one] brought in from South Africa and probably through gardens is gladioli; they come a little bit later in September when we have our walk. So we have these brilliant [native] red kangaroo paws and suddenly up come these pinkish things. They don’t go very well together.” V4
Wild gladiolus Gladiolus caryophyllaceus is an alien species in WA, originating in South Africa where it is currently endangered. It is thought to have escaped into the wild from people’s gardens and is now distributed throughout the Perth metropolitan area (FloraBase 2016). Gladiolus was also the first invasive species that I came into close contact with during my fieldwork in WA. On September 26, 2015 I participated in the annual “Gladdy Grab Challenge”, where students competed to see who could remove the most gladioli from the Banksia Woodland reserve, Murdoch University (Figure 9). In a few hours five teams dug up a total of about 100 kg of gladioli. And yet we barely scratched the surface – the small area of the bush we had worked in was still full of pink flowers, as if we were not even there85.
Figure 9 Weeding of gladioli in Banksia Woodland reserve, Murdoch, Perth. September 26, 2015. Photo K. Simonaityte.
85 CVG1, fieldnotes
64
This is also illustrative of the overall weed situation in the southwest. To effectively address the weed problem of such a scale – about 350 serious invasive species are already recorded in Swan Weeds Database covering most of Perth metro (Brown & Bettink 2009) – significant resources and continuous management are required. According to many of the interviewees, restoration in the southwest is in fact all about weed control. Not only is planting constituting only a small fraction of restoration on the ground, successful revegetation would be largely impossible without weed removal:
“Revegetation is a very small part of restoration activities”; weeding, watering is much greater. People don’t realise that, they want to do it all at once and quickly and that’s a problem and most of the time leads to failure. (P16, fieldnotes)
“Weeding is the majority of what we do. We don’t get as many vollies [volunteers] as tree planting because it’s not as fancy. People feel like they are doing more benefit to the woodland by planting instead of weeding. Which is an interesting concept. Especially to people who don’t have much knowledge about the environment. But to us, we know that weeding is as important as planting, probably more important.” V3
“Activists just talk about conservation while I’m the one doing the weeding. Weeding and planting”. They don’t realise how much weeding there needs to be done and maybe don’t even want to do it. (V5, fieldnotes)
These quotes not only exemplify the great importance of weeding in restoration practice in the southwest WA, but they also point to the lack of public understanding of this fact (“A lot of it is the knowledge of what actually a weed is86”) and, in turn, lack of familiarity with region’s native ecosystems and their issues. Hand-weeding vs. herbicide spraying is probably the most prominent debate where the opinions of public clash with those of restoration practitioners, as a result. Since I did not interview any local people with no connection to restoration, I could only relay the practitioner perspectives on the matter. The evident objections to spraying appear to be largely related to the human health hazard that the use of herbicides in urban areas might present. These issues are somewhat taken into account in restoration practice: spraying is carried out by trained staff (that also means that only specially trained volunteers would ever handle herbicides), public is informed about the sprayings (including restricting access to the treated areas), herbicides are first trialled on small patches before broader application, and more targeted spraying (spot spray instead of blanket spray) is also sometimes used. That said, precautionary principle is not employed and in general possible health threats do not constitute a strong argument to abandon spraying entirely. Those carrying out restoration recognised
86 V2
65 the risk, and also occasionally expressed a longing to be able to forego herbicide application. Main message, however, is very clear: we are dealing with environment that is disturbed and weed-infested to such an extent that the only way to adequately tackle the problem and not risk complete failure is to use herbicides – “it’s that or walk[ing] away87”. As the following excerpt sums it up:
“There’s no doubt that it would be best if we didn’t have to have it [herbicides] in the environment, of course. But again I think that’s not practical. Then you have to start doing all the trade-offs, weighing up; if you didn’t have that tool, what else would you use. And the reality is – nobody has the labour force to deliver that without chemicals. Limited [use of herbicides] where you can, use it properly, use it smartly. Then you get good outcomes… We spray all the time.” P8
That is not to say that hand-weeding is not used: when the project is of small scale or when dealing with particular invasive species (non-grasses) physical weeding can be a preferred option. What is criticised is the complete reliance on hand-weeding and a policy of “No herbicides”, in most cases self-imposed by the community groups in the areas they manage. Let me illustrate this with an excerpt of a conversation with a community group that does not follow such a policy:
A couple with a dog passed us. They commented on our activity [hand-weeding] that they were “happy [we] are not spraying with that horrible stuff”, meaning herbicides. Will replied to them that “we much rather pull [weeds] out”. When the pair disappeared, I asked Lily if they actually don’t use chemicals. She laughed, “We do spray!” She added that they do that mostly for grasses, because they are very hard to get rid of otherwise, due to their root system. (…) They contract people to kill woody species, e.g. blackberries by removing parts of the bark and injecting the poison right into the tissues (…) Lily also mentioned that it’s not just random local people like this couple who do not approve of herbicides, but also some volunteers “are very against it”. She said that “they just don’t know what goes into such work”. Throughout this whole conversation, although it was clear that Lily is not against spraying, she kept using the word ‘poison’, nonetheless. (CVG3, fieldnotes)
Interestingly, just like with the general public’s objections to spraying, critics usually attributed similar stance of the community groups to their lack of knowledge of weed biology and behaviour in the southwest WA. However, the arguments of one group, who “don’t want to do that [spraying]”, were actually based on observations that “the [native] orchids and things like that have definitely
87 A8
66 deteriorated or disappeared altogether”, assumed to be a result of the local council applying “sort of blanket spray88”.
Overall, based on the interviews, there is no question about the fate of the invasives - they need to be eradicated: “They compact the ground and prevent natives coming out (...) we have a living proof here that it’s worth removing weeds89” (I will go back to this idea later on to put it in the context of novel ecosystems discourse). What is contemplated, though, is whether getting rid of the weeds by any means necessary justifies losing some or any natives. For one volunteer and their group, concern over the status of native species presents a rationale to “try not to use [herbicides]90”. One practitioner emphasised use of “herbicides that are fairly specific to a particular weed without impacting too much on native vegetation91”. Another practitioner considered “that there’s possibility that a lot of this jarrah dieback, marri canker could be due to the overuse of herbicide…there’s theories what they’re doing is poisoning all the healthy bugs, much like the healthy bugs in our system when we use antibiotics. That that knocks out the defences of the plants. And that’s why we’re getting these diseases.92” While “[she doesn’t] think we can do away with spraying”, in this practitioner’s opinion, “certainly (…) we use way too much of it”. However, loss of natives may also be seen as a necessity for weed control to be as effective as possible, for example:
We went back to the volunteers and they had a question about spraying the area, even if there were some natives in there. She said this might be “contentious for some people”, but “whenever we do our revegetation, we usually spray the whole lot, despite having natives and weeds”. They are trying to establish perennials, so this is an approach they are going for. (P16, fieldnotes)
Somewhat related are the deliberations about scalping, which is a removal of topsoil in order to get rid of the existing weed seed bank. This might also be seen as a controversial practice in the eyes of the public, since at first glance it appears to be extremely destructive, and thus having a negative effect on the native ecosystems. For practitioners, however, weed loss brings about benefits that again justifies the practice:
“For us weeds are the biggest issue, so even if topsoil might have a bit more nutrients, a bit more life in it (…) The negatives of the weeds outweigh the positives of the topsoil. You’re better off to
88 V4 89 CVG2, fieldnotes 90 V4 91 P2 92 P10 67
have a bare site to start with. Because then that allows things like direct seeding which is much better technique for revegetation, if you can get it right.” P9
“So some of my sites I’ll scalp. The comments are always, but what about the topsoil? Usually the topsoil is rubbish, it’s just full of veldt grass seed or weed seed. Honestly it’s…you’re just better off not having it there. Yes, you might lose some of the microbial activity. But I actually think that that’s a bit of a falsehood, I don’t think that you lose that much, because certainly what I’ve seen in my experience it’s that the weed competition is the biggest issue around successful revegetation and if you actually eliminate that over time most of our species will develop their own mycorrhizal colonies anyway.” P8
This again reiterates the prioritisation of weed control in restoration activities and further cements the idea that successful weeding equals successful revegetation. Curiously, the inverse relation between the two has also been articulated, where the new plantings or naturally regenerating bushland provide their own weed control (though initial weeding is still necessary):
“If you take the pressure of these nasty weeds, hopefully the bushland’s getting better and it’ll actually push out some of these [non-priority weeds] anyway. So there’s no point tackling those particular species as such if they are going to be pushed out.” P6
One could consider that the fixation with weeds is so entrenched that in some way even the role of native vegetation has been rearticulated in terms of invasives, for example, as a weed control agent in this case. This is also in line with the “resilience approach93” of so-called Bradley method, a widely popular bushland regeneration technique in Australia, which focuses primarily on long-term control of invasive plants. First of the three core principles of the Bradley method posits to always start weed control in the areas that are the least disturbed, then working out towards the more heavily infested areas. The idea is that such initial clearing provides native vegetation with an opportunity to re-establish on the ground recovered from the invasive species (Bradley 1997).
When Bradley method (which is actually “no chemical94”, thus has already been altered by most practitioners in their activities) came up in the interviews, it was often in the context of prioritisation. Prioritisation to work in the little disturbed, good condition sites rather than tackling completely degraded, very poor condition areas (as per vegetation condition scales, see Appendix 4) might also depend on the available resources – time, financial, labour. As established in section 5.3.1. (Goals of
93 P7 94 P8
68 restoration…), objectives of many restoration projects in urban areas are focused on preservation/conservation of relatively good condition bushland – largely because of limited availability of resources to deal with really severe weed infestations. Moreover, in the quote above, “non-priority weeds” implied that there are some particular species which, while non-native, are not as aggressive and of low abundance. Thus native species in the improved condition bushland would be expected to “push [them] out”, while the resources would be dedicated to “priority” weeds which have a much more significant effect on the ecosystem. Based on the interviews, Perennial Veldt Grass Ehrharta calycina, also originating in South Africa, is the usually the most prevalent weed in the systems with severely modified vegetation structure. Gladiolus, for example, might be much lower on the priority list:
“P3: There are some things like gladiolus, which is a bulb, we tend to not even target. After 2012 fires they came up everywhere, I was a bit concerned about that. So I spoke to one of our science people and [they] said, ‘Look, it’s only an annual, it’s not flowering and really what harm is it doing in the ecosystem’. So that’s one of those that we don’t chase, even though it seems to be spreading. P4: It’s right through [the area], but what to do? Hand-weed it all?”
And yet, they were still “a bit concerned about [gladiolus]”. To reiterate, whether and what weeds are being tackled largely depends on available resources. If some species are not being removed, it is by and large because other species are of greater priority (and also benefits of their weeding exceed the costs, which is the case with veldt grass but not necessarily with gladiolus). Put it another way, non-removal of non-natives rarely relates to them having some value, even though it might be recognised. As noted in the following excerpt:
“[We tend not to control some weeds] not so much that they have a function, there’s stuff which we leave just because we don’t have the time and resources. I guess if you look closely you can find beneficial things, like bulrushes still provide habitat and take nutrients out of waterways and that sort of thing. You can certainly find beneficial functions of some non-native species.” P11
One of the major ideas of the novel ecosystems discourse is that attempting to eradicate all the invasives and restore to how it was sometime in the past is largely an exercise in futility. The objectives for managing such weed infested ecosystems are thus more focused on delivery of functions and services for human well-being. As outlined above, this, however, is not seen in the practice in the southwest WA. I did record one instance of “strategic” use of an invasive plant; perversely, its presence has become beneficial only because of a continued disturbance from human activities (rather than some inherent characteristics as described in the quote above). If the stressor was to be removed, the invasive would most likely be eradicated:
69 Then we went along the Canning River and Will was telling me about the troubles they’ve been having with fishermen. Fishermen want good access to the river and so they trudge across and disturb the bank and the vegetation there. CVG3 are trying to be smart about it and use the plants “strategically”: “Fishermen will come here no matter what, so we try to minimise the damage”. They use plants that would be “able to stand up to fishermen”. Which makes an interesting case with Watsonia, which is a non-native invasive. CVG3 haven’t gone for complete removal of it because they fear that fishermen would just exploit the new openings and completely destroy the bank. So CVG3 keeps the adult plants of Watsonia, but manage it a few times a year so that they don’t drop seeds (deflowering and deseeding). (CVG3, fieldnotes)
To sum up, weeding discussion complements the overarching debates of native, indigenous species vs. non-native invasives, as seen in the sections about provenance and responses to climate change, and also supplements the discussion about the restoration objectives in the southwest WA. Necessity to remove weeds remains largely unquestioned and unchallenged. Prioritisation of what, whether and how to eradicate invasives is mostly based on the (lack of) resources, and not on a possible benefit these species might have to the ecosystem. Hand-weeding vs. herbicide spraying debate while emerging due to concerns over health (human or environmental) is actually built around the notions of knowledge (especially of local context) and practical, realistic thinking needed to achieve success – which is another idea that comes back time and time again in the analysis of restoration practice in the southwest WA.
The final topic to be analysed in this chapter is the debates surrounding supplementary watering of restoration plantings. Similar to the weeding discussion, it is also largely based on the notions of being realistic while striving for the most efficient outcome in the changing environments.
5.4.3. Watering
CVG3 do not water their plantings. “[We] let them do their thing themselves”, Lily explained. I mentioned that their neighbours at the park, CGV2, put a lot of emphasis on watering the seedlings, crediting that with their high success rate. There were funny looks among CVG3 volunteers: they knew about that and didn’t seem to think watering was that good an idea. According to Ethel, “it’s a big debate”. For one thing, it’s a lot of work. Another, watering native plants that naturally don’t need much water might make them acclimated [my word] to such moist conditions and “so you’ll just need to keep on watering”. However, they did mention that CVG2 sites are drier and the water table is lower. But still that, in their eyes, didn’t seem enough to justify
70 the watering other than, in Lily’s words, “it’s sad to see the loss of plants when so much work was put in”. (CVG3, fieldnotes)
City of Canning and SERCUL95 has published a series of brochures for local residents on how to grow native plants in their gardens – many of these recommendations apply to restoration plantings as well. Here it states that plants of WA are adapted to dry climate and low levels of precipitation – the ensuing stress is in fact necessary for them to thrive (Picton-King, n.d.) Similar sentiment was echoed in the following quote:
“We often kill our native plants if we give them fertilisers or we baby them too much. Overwatering or over-fertilising is a very common thing that residents will do if they try to grow them on their own properties. Because they are thinking about their roses or their other plants. Native plants are very different; they like to be treated quite rough – not babied.” P10
Moreover, excess of water cause nutrient leaching from already nutrient-poor sandy soils. Overwatering may also provide a suitable environment for proliferation of pathogens causing rotting of the root tissues (Picton-King, n.d.)
That said, these biological rationales for not watering restoration plantings were rarely voiced in the interviews. So why exactly “it’s a big debate”? In short, it could be summed up as a clash between “the survival of the fittest” narrative and striving for efficiency:
“Traditionally in landcare you never watered your plants. It was survival of the fittest. (…) no, I would have never watered. On the fact that they should survive, the ones that belong here, local natives should survive, the healthy stock should go on to live.” P10
“We prefer the plants trying to find it on their own. If they don’t, they die. And we do replace them. It’s kind of survival of the fittest, but that’s what nature is.” P9
Overall, watering is something that restorationists would rather not do (“Not if we can help it96”, “We water and I think it’s a shame to have to do that97”, “We (…) been forced to irrigate them in the past98”), but in the light of decreasing rainfall it is seen as a necessary evil:
“I have [recently] been thinking in view of our drying climate, if we have to stick with the constraints of the grants, then I would consider watering my plants. The first season, to try to get
95 South East Regional Centre for Urban Landcare 96 P3 97 P8 98 P9 71
them through and give them that better chance. And not waste the money and resources and carbon footprint that’s going in producing those plants and getting those grants and getting them into the ground.” P10
“And then you plant the plant in the ground, great. Then you do nothing. Maybe you do a bit of herbicide spraying, but that’s it. And you might get maybe 40 per cent survival rate. OK. But if you do water, you might get 60 or 70 per cent survival rate, and I think therein lies the answer, the debate.” P8
“Find you get better survival if you do that with supplementary watering... But then you also get the weeds [laughs]. So it’s a bit of a balancing act.” P3
Efficiency, which refers to the efficient use of resources – primarily saplings vs. water (and human labour) – and expected survival rate is key in restoration projects. However, the bigger the project, the more prohibitive is the watering of new plantings. It is expensive, labour-intensive and logistically difficult to carry out. A common solution to still ensure a high survival rate is to overplant, i.e. plant in, usually, twice as high densities than found naturally. It is expected that while a proportion of the plants will die, the survivors will be best suited to the dry and competitive local conditions and “numbers (…) will still be enough to make the cover99”. The fact that this is done very often and was talked about primarily in the context of watering shows that effect on the survival rates of plantings due to reduction in annual rainfall is a problem that has to be dealt with – whether through watering or extra plantings – rather than letting nature take its course.
The reduction in rainfall has created an opening for supplementary watering, in clash with traditional landcare methods. “Traditionally” plantings were not watered, but nowadays watering seems to be becoming more and more a default. It all comes down to efficiency and meeting the targets: function can be brought back much faster with watering than without, or it might turn out to be cheaper to water in the dry years than to replant the site two or three times over. Practitioners and volunteers thus opt not to water, either because the costs outweigh the benefits (“It was a bit of an awkward area and we would have had to walk all that way with the buckets, so we decided we’re just gonna have to let them [the plants] go on their own100”, for example) or occasionally because it is a conscious choice, a “purist” pathway. As one interviewee put it, “Some [community volunteer] groups might want to water more and they are just not able to [due to lack of resources], whereas some groups choose that if you
99 P6 100 V2
72 get through the summer, then you’re allowed to live.101” On the other hand, “survival of the fittest” storyline does not leave everything in nature’s hands either. “And we do replace them102”, said one practitioner about the plants that die in the high density, non-watered plantings, still focusing on survival rates.
Final point of interest on the topic: watering is often closely associated with community groups. It is considered to be something that they would do. That is not surprising given substantial (and free) labour force as well as usually small site sizes. A following quote illustrates again how watering is often less about ecology, but more about other aspects, in this case priorities and knowledge of volunteers groups:
“We would probably, to some extent, be asking, because we support our community groups, would they like their sites watered. And if they said yes, we would try and accommodate that”. P11
The excerpt from the fieldnotes at the beginning of the section describes just two groups to which this would apply: while CVG3 have opted not to water their plantings, CVG2 are to an extent supported by the local government in their watering activities.
Given all the above, it should be also said that watering is done very carefully, primarily over the first and occasionally also over the second summer, depending on the rainfall. Watering is done with large intervals, for example every two weeks. Hand watering or drip irrigation are the preferred techniques.
5.4.4. Conclusion
In this section about “doing restoration” I looked beyond the planning of restoration activities and considered the actual on-the-ground work that is carried out in restoration sites. However, the framework established in the “Contesting restoration” (5.1.) dictated how I was to approach the respective activities of planting, weeding and watering. Hence, in the “Planting” (5.4.1.) instead of attempting to outline the actual planting techniques employed, I looked into the concept of natural regeneration, the capacity of natives to come back on their own, and how it is perceived in restoration practice. Due to severe disturbances, weed infestations and changed environmental conditions, including changes to traditional fire regime, natural regeneration is given little thought as a revegetation strategy in the southwest. Natural regeneration is not practical in most cases, and thus resources are instead utilised in active replanting. While, as established in earlier sections, practitioners and volunteers recognise that historical ecosystems cannot be recovered, assisted revegetation is
101 O1 102 P9
73 nonetheless employed to steer the ecosystems to the desired “what should be there” state. This is done instead of, for instance, fully embracing the notions of novel ecosystems and making do with the current condition, only managing it to improve the ecological functions and services. The discussion about weeding follows nicely from here: the removal of invasives is for the most part unquestioned, and is influenced only by the available resources rather than some possible advantage that the weedy species might confer on the environment in terms of ecosystem services or goods. Extensive use of herbicides is rationalised by the notion of being practical and realistic – without herbicides weed control is futile and not worth pursuing. A similar notion underlies the watering debate; however, it appears to be even more contentious. While weeding (for the most) part has to do with invasives, watering is affecting native plants. Traditionally, in landcare watering had been a no-go. However, in the light of the changing climate and the need to meet the targets, what we see now is a re-articulation of the traditional (non)watering notions. This in turn requires re-aligning the concepts and knowledge about the native species with the pursuit of “what was here before”-type restoration.
74 Chapter 6. Conclusions
6.1. Discourses underlying restoration theory and practice
Chapter 5 started with unravelling restoration discourses apparent in the academic literature. While historical state restoration is identified as a hegemonic discourse, the analysed literature was dominated by the articulation of criticisms and counter-discourses to that discourse. The critiquing authors evoked, manipulated and confronted the hegemonic discourse to make their case; however, what exactly was being countered was less explicit. Historical state restoration was, in most cases simply understood as re-composition of past species assemblages and it was considered unpractical, unsustainable and nostalgic (or by the harshest of critics – impossible, a failure and a disaster). Borne out of growing recognition of the magnitude of anthropogenic climate change and other environmental changes, which have produced different conditions compared to those that supported the historical ecosystems, these criticisms have organised themselves under the novel ecosystems discourse. This counter-discourse is in part based on the concept of thresholds: the system that has passed a specific threshold cannot for all intents and purposes be restored back to some original state, and is thus labelled novel. Therefore, restoration objectives articulated in the novel ecosystems discourse also have a future-oriented focus – the delivery of beneficial ecosystem functions and services instead of historic species assemblages.
The novel ecosystems discourse has consequently attracted copious criticism: it has been primarily seen as a plea to abandon traditional restoration practices and conservation objectives, and also as a legitimation of continued environmental destruction. The resulting heated academic debate has been vital in prompting attempts to reconcile two major clashing ideas – namely the importance of history/historical reference in restoration and the inevitability of climate change (and overall dynamism of ecosystems). Our analysis has shown that the emergent notion of History-as-guide, where a historical reference is not seen as a target, but acts more as an information source guiding restoration, can be considered a modification of or a complement to the dominant historical state discourse, rather than a bona fide counter-discourse, on par with the novel ecosystems one. Or put it another way: the analysis suggests that the counter-discourse of novel ecosystems has not dislocated the dominant discourse, but instead prompted its re-articulation as History-as-guide. This modified discourse conceptualises restoration as informed by both historic and future considerations, and is thus more practical as well as inclusive than either historical or novel ecosystems discourses.
Following the examination of the literature, I continued the analysis by looking at the interviews with select Perth, WA scientists, mostly restoration ecologists. There the interviewees strongly emphasised
75 the importance of “practical” and “realistic” restoration in the light of the particular local environmental circumstances of the southwest WA. While their views closely matched those articulated in the literature within different restoration discourses, they were also less clear-cut. For instance, in the interviews academics saw history as undoubtedly valuable and an important information source, but at the same time they dismissed the use of a specific historical state as a reference. Essentially, respondents emphasised that the severity and immensity of environmental changes in the Perth metropolitan area require a type of restoration which objectives might have to deviate significantly from the historical state, and which also results in the production of some value for humans and other entities. Thus, what we see emerging is the articulation of ideas about delivering ecological functions as management goals for degraded ecosystems as well as the need to be pragmatic. In other words, the interviews exhibit some elements of the novel ecosystems discourse – those related to ecological functions – which are combined with the elements (the appreciation of history) of the reinvented historical state discourse, which views history as guide.
This suggests that the discourse articulated in the academic interviews functions as a sort of bridge between the discourses in the academic literature and conservation/restoration practice on the ground (Figure 10). Both academic interviews and interviews with practitioners and volunteers were conducted in the context of the ecological specificities of the Perth metropolitan area. We have seen that practitioners and volunteers interpret the existing environmental limitations somewhat differently and appear to be much more conservative (or nostalgic) than academics when it comes to maintaining historical species composition. Hence, their restoration practice is anchored primarily in the historical state discourse, though with some concessions.
When asked specifically, practitioners and volunteers readily acknowledged that complete historical restoration is impossible due to major disturbances in many local ecosystems. Given the difficulties of bringing back the past ecosystems (due to climate change, disease, weed competition, etc.), and considering the discussions in the literature, it could then be expected that restorationists would turn to the future when planning restoration of the degraded areas and put a greater emphasis, for example, on the delivery of ecosystem functions and services, as urged by the novel ecosystems. What we see happening in practice through the interviews with practitioners and volunteers, however, is quite the opposite. Native species remain the focus of ecological restoration as indicated by 1) the extensive discussion on maintaining local provenance, also 2) responses to climate change relying on the adaptation of native species to changing conditions, and 3) comprehensive non-native invasive weed removals. Furthermore, the prominent nostalgic notion of “what should be here”, articulated as part of the objectives, refers precisely to the reconstruction of native species composition, operationalised
76 through the extensive use of historic species lists. Historical restoration discourse is thus performed and normalised in practice.
Figure 10 Restoration discourses in literature (a) and practice (b). C represents various criticisms to the hegemonic Historical state (Hist) discourse. Some of these (C1) were recognised and incorporated into the discourse, leading to its re-articulation as History-as-guide (HaG) (lighter-coloured arrow indicates that the process is still on-going). Other unrecognised criticism grouped under Novel ecosystems discourse (NES), which continues to interact with Hist and HaG. In practice (b), dominant Historical discourse (Hist) acknowledged and incorporated criticisms related to climate change (CC). Discourse has been modified, which is manifesting through “being practical” notions (hence HistP label). Consecutively, while clearly recognising that they are working in modified environments which differ significantly from the baseline of pre-European settlement, Perth’s practitioners and volunteers nonetheless largely reject the novel ecosystems discourse as discussed in the literature. First, successful restoration is considered to generally depend on the removal of invasive weedy species. The rationale (of the need) of these removals is not challenged: if a weed is not removed, it is largely because of the lack of resources and/or another weed being a greater priority (based on its impact on the environment). Although the possible benefits of non-native species are recognised to some extent, this knowledge plays little role in weeding decisions. Secondly, weeds have to be replaced with native species, preferably of local provenance, which in the southwest WA can often mean a sourcing radius of less than 10 km. The region’s mega-diversity seems to be one of the key factors in explaining the dominance of historical state discourse, as is the significant appreciation that “patch A and patch B of bushland in the southwest are not equal” (Prof. R. Hobbs, presentation at Kings Park, October 1, 2015). From a biodiversity conservation perspective this means that there is not only a large number of species, but many of them are rare and found only in particular locations in combination with other similarly rare species (not to mention that many of them are hard or impossible to propagate in nurseries). While this image is a slight exaggeration, it nonetheless provides a rationale for resource allocation to
77 restoration as a mean to preserve the great genetic variation of southwest floristic region. Going back to the dominant discourse, the preservation of local genetics, articulated by practitioners and volunteers as a major goal of their activities, supplies the rationale for historical restoration and further demonstrates the hegemonic position of this discourse.
One of the concessions to historical state discourse I alluded to earlier is to spread out and source plant material of non-local provenance (though still native, i.e. from within the Swan Coastal Plain). Bringing in non-native plants from more arid areas as a response to changing climate is seen as unacceptable and defeatist, but there is a strong belief in the adaptive capacities of native flora – given the chance these plants might be able to adapt to better cope with environmental changes. Thus outsourcing, on the one hand, is expected to contribute to improving the desired adaptive capacity of native plants. On the other hand, turning to non-local provenance is in fact more often dictated by necessity, for example, if there simply is not enough plant material available within the provenance. This presents a second deviation from historical state discourse due to “the need to be practical”, the first being the necessity to prioritise the weeding, as discussed above. If resources – financial/labour/time in the case of the weeds and seed in the case of the natives – were not limiting, all the invasives would most likely be removed and replaced with local provenance native species.
While the idea of “native plants will adapt” is very strongly articulated, the same cannot be said about the idea of the change of the native ecosystems, which would follow from novel ecosystems discourse. Basically, since they are the ones selecting what to plant103, restorationists are in control to decide “what should be here” – a specific historical state. The juxtaposition of native species and invasive weeds (exaltation of the former, condemnation of the latter, respectively), the prioritisation of local provenance, the overall focus on species composition and conservation of intact areas as part of restoration objectives – all of these refer to the dominance of the historical state discourse in practice. We have seen that the notion of “what should be here” is informed both by the nostalgic perspectives of historical state narratives and also very much by local circumstances of mega-diversity and its rapid loss – the two aspects, however, are quite difficult to untangle. The key elements and ideas of novel ecosystems discourse are not represented in the restoration practice; the recognition of severe environmental changes and the ongoing anthropogenic climate change (as well as the resource availability issues) are making the restorationists embrace the “need to be practical” narratives instead. Indeed, all four parts of the analysis (literature review, academic interviews, planning and doing restoration) discuss the idea of “being practical” in restoration. In literature and in the academic
103 Only in the instances of soil transplantation restorationists possibly would not be able to tell with maximum certainty what is in the seed mix. I have not, however, discussed perspectives of the technique of soil transplantation in my analysis due to lack of data. 78 interviews it refers to abandoning attempts to bring back some historical state and past species assemblages. In restoration practice, however, the articulation of “being practical/need to be practical” (or “realistic”) is rather different as well as more nuanced. To practitioners and volunteers “being practical” means prioritising weed removal or sourcing outside the local provenance radius or watering the plantings for the first summer. Nonetheless, these are seen, fundamentally, as the necessary concessions to still maintain the nostalgic, historical “what should be here” goal, falling in line with history-as-guide discourse.
6.2. Revisiting the research questions
1. What discourses underpin current debates in restoration ecology theory? What concepts and types of knowledge can be identified in these discourses?
Restoration ecology theory, as evidenced by the literature analysis, is underpinned by three more or less established discourses. Historical state restoration represents a hegemonic discourse and its objectives focus on the past native species assemblages (but also on the overall functional similarity and historical fidelity and continuity, if following SER Primer). Novel ecosystems is the best developed counter-discourse borne out of growing recognition of rapidly changing environmental conditions and resulting unsustainability of historical state restoration. Proponents of the novel ecosystems discourse insist on the delivery of ecological functions and services as the key restoration goals, which can still be achieved with non-original species composition (including beneficial ‘invasives’). Third discourse, history-as-guide, in fact appears to be a re-articulation of historical state rather than a fully-fledged separate (counter-)discourse. The criticisms of the historical state restoration discourse, which had aligned under novel ecosystems, were recognised and responded to within the emerging notion of history-as-guide to a large extent, while at the same time retaining the key elements of historical state restoration discourse.
Focus on the native species and the historical reference state underlie the historical state restoration discourse. Concept of thresholds, ecological functions, viewing non-native species through the lens of their impact rather than origin are key for novel ecosystems. Finally, history-as-guide combines these concepts and sees history not just as a target, but also an information source on environmental changes.
2. What discourses manifest themselves in restoration practice? What concepts and types of knowledge can be identified in these discourses?
The dominant discourse in restoration practice in the Perth metropolitan area (the southwest WA) appears to be historical state restoration, as demonstrated by the massive focus on native species,
79 preferably of local provenance. Rapid anthropogenic climate change is recognised, but restoration responses are deliberately limited to increased summer watering of new plantings (rather than bringing in species from more arid areas or maintaining existing weedy species), especially given the strong belief in the native species’ adaptive capacities. Watering, outsourcing to non-local provenance (but still native) and prioritisation of weeds to be removed (three “being practical” notions) are deviations from the historical state discourse. While essential to address the changing environmental conditions, these concessions are still primarily focussed on preserving local genetic diversity. This points to a shift towards history-as-guide narrative rather than novel ecosystems.
3. What similarities and differences can be identified between the two domains?
Focus on the recovery of the historical native species compositions is undoubtedly the most prominent similarity between the dominant discourses of the two domains. Ecological functions as restoration objectives present another touchpoint, although significantly less pronounced: it is prominent in the novel ecosystems discourse where ecological functions as restoration objectives is a key concept, while in restoration planning the delivery of functions is also reliably mentioned among the restoration objectives. However, in practice there appears to be a lack of knowledge and understanding about installing and measuring the progress of such goals on the ground; instead, restoration of local biodiversity is still unquestionably a priority. Another similarity between the domains is attached to the importance of the notion of “being practical”. What it means to be practical, however, is understood rather differently between theory and practice. In the novel ecosystems discourse, being practical manifests as a criticism towards historical state restoration discourse as the latter is seen as impractical and unsustainable. In restoration practice, in contrast, being practical appears to be a necessary concession given changing environmental conditions in order to still be able to aim for historical composition and revegetation with native species. In other words, in theory being practical is articulated as a critique to an ideological commitment to restoring historical state, while in practice, it becomes a way to make the historical state restoration discourse actionable, thereby reinforcing its hegemonic position – though with slight modifications of history-as-guide.
80 Chapter 7. Discussion
7.1. Wider restoration debates
“I don’t think people [in our field] are thinking in terms of the academic approach to novel landscapes, they are really thinking about it in terms of trying to restore and it will be a restoration approach. [They] won’t be thinking about it from an academic perspective or whether it’s looking back or not.” P7
The aim of this chapter is to place the findings of discourse analysis presented in Chapters 5 and 6 in the context of the wider scientific debates and in such a way articulate the study’s contribution to ecological restoration, which is primarily a better understanding of the social element in restoration practice (and less a contribution to the theoretical concepts of discourse analysis). On the one hand, the findings are of relevance to restorationists in the Perth metropolitan area: as outlined in the Methods, the objective of explorative, ethnographic-type study is to shed the light on the emic (insider) perspective, and also compare and contrast it with the etic (outsider) perspective. My goal, as a discourse analyst (and an outsider), was not to discover some “truth” or show that the concepts employed by different actors participating in restoration in the southwest WA (the insiders) are ecologically right or wrong (and thus needs changing). Analysis outlining the dominant knowledge, concepts, views and approaches (but also recognising those that are missing or undermined) in regards to restoration, nonetheless, might be of benefit to practitioners and volunteers as a tool to reflect on their practices and activities.
On the other hand, placing the results of the study in the wider (global) restoration practice and theory context is also expected to further emphasise their relevance to restoration in general. As I showed in Chapter 1 (Introduction), the debate about restoration objectives and historical vs. novel ecosystems is nothing new. While in section 5.1. (Literature analysis) I analysed articles published after 2000, the practicality of attempts to bring back historical state has been questioned throughout the earlier decades as well (see, for example, Cairns 1988; Falk 1990; Pickett & Parker 1994). There also exists a significant collection of empirical evidence from around the world demonstrating the difficulties of historical restoration: whether in Galapagos Islands (Trueman, Standish & Hobbs 2014), Hawaii (Cordell et al. 2016), Puerto Rico (Marris 2009), or the Wheatbelt of the southwest Western Australia (Cramer, Hobbs & Standish 2008), among others. In many cases non-native invasive species, which tend to be the better competitors, are usually to blame – just like we saw them wreak havoc on the Swan Coastal Plain too in Chapter 5 (Results). Weed eradication is usually an uphill battle, and other environmental changes are also often difficult to counteract to the point where “costs of restoration may outweigh the
81 accomplishment” (Cordell et al. 2016 p. 139). Why then does historical state restoration not only continue to be on the restoration agenda, but actually dominates it? The following paragraphs will attempt to answer this question by presenting three avenues for discussion: considerations over ideologies, normative issues and a concept of care.
First of all, naturally, the hegemony of a certain discourse raises the question whether the restoration objectives promoted by that discourse result in a successful restoration. “Success” in restoration, however, is an especially contentious concept – hard to define and hard to measure (Zedler 2000; Suding 2011). While during the interviews the success of restoration projects was not discussed directly, various activities were deemed so crucial that their foregoing would have undoubtedly led to failure. Spraying herbicides to eradicate weeds is probably the best example; outsourcing to non-local provenance and summer watering in small scale projects were also discussed in such a context. However, for the project to not be a failure and the site to not revert back to a degraded state the need of intensive and multi- year management was also stressed. Self-sustainability of a restored system is considered one of the pillars of ecological restoration (SER 2004; Perring et al. 2015; Suding et al. 2015; Cordell et al. 2016). Historical state pursued in practice is, however, a type of restoration which in the eyes of its critics (novel ecosystems proponents) might not be conducive to ensuring the self-sustainability of restored ecosystems. This juxtaposition thus hints that the issue might be an ideological one, and also one that primarily relates to knowledge.
Jasanoff (2002, 2005) and other writers in Science, Technology and Society (STS) studies ask whose knowledge counts and why when addressing various technoscience issues; they critically analyse the role of experts (also see Spruijt et al. 2014) as well as the power of their often used modelling tools, which in Jasanoff’s view, often fail to represent the complexity of reality, and may lead to inappropriate policy and/or management decisions (Jasanoff 2002). Cabin (2007), for example, discusses the issue specifically in the context of restoration. He concludes that in practice in restoration sites the scientific method loses out (too slow, too rigid) to the “trial and error” approach employed by the practitioners and community groups (albeit cooperation between researchers and restorationists is encouraged nonetheless). In the case study of the Perth metropolitan area analysed in this thesis “trial and error” approaches also dominate, while a set of ideologies – primarily 1) about the non-naturalness of non- native invasive weeds, and 2) about the species ability to adapt to a changing climate – have a stronghold on the restoration activities. These ideologies have been highly contentious in restoration ecology, conservation biology and related disciplines. Below I will consider the two in more detail, starting with non-native invasives, while also emphasising STS arguments about knowledge and its producers.
82 These ideological and contentious issues to a large extent boil down to the attitudes towards wilderness or naturalness (e.g. Cronon 1995); the issue with weeds is closely related to the discussion on naturalness as well. It implies that there is some pristine, natural – outside of humans – state, towards which restoration efforts can be directed and also succeed; however, as Cronon puts it, the idea “that we can somehow wipe clean the slate of our past and return to the tabula rasa that supposedly existed before we began to leave our marks on the world” is “[an] illusion” (1995 p. 11). Nonetheless, this notion of naturalness has been quite prominent in leading environmental philosophy writings on restoration (and represents the core of their criticisms towards the discipline, where restoration is seen as ‘faking nature’ cf. Katz 1992; Elliot 2000), as well as underpinning thinking about conservation practices (Hobbs et al. 2010). Recently, however, debates about naturalness and what it actually means have been spurred on by growing recognition of the significant influences of, for example, pre-European indigenous civilisations, such as Noongar people in the southwest WA, on their local environment (Jackson & Hobbs 2009) The importance of these discussions for restoration lies in the concept of reference state and how far in the past we should look for it. We could ask, for example, which of the states – pre- disturbance, pre-European or even pre-Aboriginal – is the most appropriate (or even the most natural) to pursue.
Whatever the answer, non-native species are considered to be interlopers, not part of these “natural” systems (Davis et al. 2011), which also provides a rationale for the hegemony of historical state restoration discourse (as in “non-natives were not part of the historical systems and thus need to be eradicated”). Such militaristic language (eradication, invasion, aliens etc.), when referring to the invasives, is considered to be largely a reason why the focus remains on the origin of the invasive non- natives rather than on their impact on the ecosystems (Larson 2005; Davis et al. 2011). Those participating in this invasion biology discussion provide the same arguments as the novel ecosystems proponents: given the rapidly changing world it is impractical to ponder removal of all non-natives hoping to return to some previous natural or historical state (Davis et al. 2011; Robbins & Moore 2013). Others, however, argue that such curtailing of management of the invasives might result in even greater environmental problems and further degradation (Simberloff et al. 2011; Simberloff & Vitule 2014). To a large extent this is a struggle over definitions and ideologies (e.g. condemnation of non-natives is even likened by some to a form of xenophobia, see for the debate Simberloff 2003; Larson 2005; O’Brien 2006; Warren 2007), including what is considered natural.
The second issue - the belief that native species are capable to adapt to climatic changes – is especially interesting, but also more difficult to address. First, this ideology does not preclude non-historical state restoration, but its role in the discourse is clearly enabling the pursuit of historical state restoration.
83 Secondly, it was clear from the analysis that the related concept of provenance for practitioners and volunteers is just as much an ideological approach, as it is an ecological one. Thinking of provenance as fitting within the mostly artificial boundaries of a nature reserve, for example, is illustrative of this. While the focus on the local provenance is indeed important in maintaining the population genetic diversity (Hopper & Gioia 2004; Krauss & He 2006), this might not necessarily be the case for all the species (e.g. see Wheeler, Byrne & McComb 2003). A comparative study focussing on the notion of provenance would also be of interest, given that even within the same geographical region it seems to be valued quite differently by restorationists (cf. Buizer, Kurz & Ruthrof 2012). In any case, provenance is clearly at the centre of conservation and climate change response discussions in the southwest WA, but its rationale as a restoration tool is being questioned (see Lovett et al. 2008). Therefore, it is important to examine the link in restoration practice between the concepts of provenance and the adaptive capacity of native plants, which goes well beyond the argument that native species are better adapted to local conditions, which is often invoked in the literature to explain practitioner preference of historical state restoration.
This debate especially emphasises the friction between and differing valuing of scientific knowledge and knowledge of those working on the ground. For example, considering “native species are capable to adapt to climate change” a belief is an example of a so-called scientism discourse, which claims that facts are more superior and credible than values, whereas the authority of “unearthing” facts lies primarily with qualified scientists and scientific method (Kleinman 2005 p. 4). While verifiable ecological data about the shifts in species distributions is essential in this discussion, Jasanoff’s question about whose knowledge matters should also be kept in mind – practitioners’ statements, while infused with various ideologies about naturalness, non-native invasives, values of native species, are nonetheless based on long-term observations.
Moving on, the second major set of explanation for historical state dominance might be a more normative one. Responsibility is an important concept in ecological restoration: by altering the environment in any way we enter a relationship with it to ensure that it can still provide ecosystem services to meet the inter- and intra-generational needs (Hilderbrand, Watts & Randle 2005; Egan, Hjerpe & Abrams 2011). Furthermore, the rationale for restoration as a whole stems from the idea that in the cases where we are the agents of destruction, whether directly or indirectly, it is our responsibility to fix the damages (Egan, Hjerpe & Abrams 2011). However, a sense of responsibility (and guilt) for past destructions does not in itself determine that such fixing of the damages should take the shape of historical state restoration, that is the pursuit of historical fidelity. While the insistence on the latter might be related to the issue of naturalness as discussed above, the preceding analysis is more
84 supportive of the claim by Smith who states that “[p]hilosophical arguments about the innate replicability of nature exert relatively little leverage over what happens on the ground, at least amongst the producers of restored nature [i.e. practitioners]” (2013 p. 356). Restorationists were little concerned with fixed baselines, whereas strong emphasis on preservation via active human intervention (weeding, planting) also points to rationales other than replication of naturalness (Throop & Purdom 2006; Hobbs et al. 2010). Instead, our analysis suggests that the prominent use of arguments of “what should be here” for restoration objectives reflects the grieving for rapidly disappearing biodiversity and our inability to accept the inevitability of ecosystem changes, as proposed by Hobbs (2013); Robbins and Moore also refer to this when talking about “ecological anxiety disorder” (2013 p. 3). And it is because of this inability to move on that we hang onto the historical state restoration, even in spite of the recognition of the major ecological changes. In fact, it is clear from the preceding analysis that complete restoration of original ecosystem is not actually the goal of the restoration projects in the Perth metropolitan area; it is also widely acknowledged that the environmental changes are too great and accurate records of suitable references are too few, not to mention that only a small percentage of native species can be recovered through planting (the ones that we know how to germinate). What underpins and drives the restoration of historical (as much as possible) state is thus the fight to stem the further changes and preserve the existing high genetic diversity and familiar structure (which might be very much already modified and thus not necessarily fit the naturalness notion).
The third and final aspect regarding the pursuit of historical state that I would like to discuss concerns the notion of care. As Higgs explains, “A thing is enlarged by care, and a person is rewarded with a more profound understanding of existence and responsibility. This is what happens in ecological restoration when lives both human and natural are inspired.” (2000 p. 207). The importance of an ethics of care is clearly manifested in restoration practice, and even though this does not in itself preclude non- historical state forms of restoration, it appears that care is exercised in restoration practice in such a way that reinforces the hegemonic discourse. Specifically, we have seen that care through restoration is tightly linked with control: in the case of individual plants there is even an element of babying when it comes to watering, for example. In the case of the whole ecosystems (or patches of land) this control manifests through active and aggressive planting and weeding. This is reminiscent of what Mol (2008) calls a logic of care. Although Mol’s (2008) analysis is placed in the context of the health of human patients, one could see the parallels with restoration, it being “the process of assisting the recovery” of the damaged nature (SER 2004 p. 3). Mol contrasts the logic of care with the logic of choice, arguing that babying is not necessarily the best approach and “lives both human and natural [could be] inspired” by letting the latter flourish on their own. Obviously, the choice by a human and nature’s “choice” are not the same. However, both are governed by certain sets of rules: we have seen from our discussion on
85 discourse theory that human behaviour and thinking are often dictated by taken-for-granted discourses, emerging from clashes of power and knowledge. Such thinking about care and choice could in fact stimulate further debate within the context of restoration, especially about the notion of self- sustainability as well as setting ecosystems on some historical trajectory and letting them sort themselves out. These could not be identified in our analysis but present an interesting further research opportunity.
Overall, reflecting on the findings and the discussion above, change and its (non)recognition jumps out as an underlying theme. History-as-guide discourse addresses the notion of change the most comprehensively, basing the planning of restoration and restoration objectives both on historical circumstances and future predictions. If I were to provide any recommendations for practice, I would urge to better consider the History-as-guide concepts – restored ecosystem self-sustainability and resilience, while already discussed by some, should become the core elements of restoration practice discourse. While I appreciate the rationale of careful preservation of genetic diversity (which is immense in the biodiversity hotspot of the southwest WA), I can also see the merit of “either this or no jarrahs” thinking and practice to ensure that (native) biodiversity is maintained in the Perth metropolitan area given the rapid and significant change in environmental conditions.
7.2. Reflection on the theoretical framework
As I see it, discourse analysis serves a double function. On the one hand, it drives home the point that nature and science, through which we interpret and understand nature, are not prescriptive; as Hull and Robertson so eloquently put it, based on the developed ecological theories “[t]here exists no single ecologically optimum or naturally best environmental condition that can serve as an objective, unequivocal goal for ecological restoration projects” (2000 p. 98). Yet, secondly, discourse analysis illuminates that through the use of the same ecology language some environmental conditions are nonetheless deemed more possible, more natural, more healthy (Hull & Robertson 2000 p. 98) to serve as restoration objectives. We thus see that that descriptive language also has a political power when it comes to decision-making in policy and/or management practice. In turn, discourse analysis by examining these particular hegemonic discourses, uncovering how their concepts, ideas, beliefs came to be seen as inevitable, and drawing attention to the struggles between the dominant and counter- discourses, diminishes the power of the former and provides an opportunity to recognise other possible realities.
The theoretical framework indeed allowed to both reveal the discourses underlying the restoration ecology theory and also those manifesting in the restoration practice on the ground, and tease out the
86 storylines shared between the two domains. To achieve this the analysist had immersed herself in the discursive landscape of restoration practice in the Perth metropolitan area, while also making specific judgments based on her theoretical and practical expertise about the role, relations and articulations of the certain types of concepts and knowledge (Howarth 2010). Assumptions about the messiness of discourse conflicts and recognitions/responses to articulated challenges were also more or less confirmed, allowing to draw a rather nuanced picture of the different restoration discourses and their interactions. Decision to base the analysis on the practice of articulation rather than discourse coalitions framework was in fact iterative, given the difficulties to determine meaningful coalitions based on the shared storylines. What was seen instead, in Ingram et al. words, was “plurivocity (…) the capacity of a narrative event to allow multiple narrators, with differing narratives, to participate in telling the stories of a group” (2014 p. 3), better highlighted through articulation approaches.
Finally, while providing a detailed snapshot of discursive practices and articulations and how they shape theory and practice, discourse analysis does not necessarily offer solutions to the problem in question, for instance, how to proceed with historical vs. novel ecosystems debate for the greatest benefit to conservation and restoration (Graham 2011). Together with its inherent ambiguity and various uncertainties, this could be seen as a weakness of the approach (Dingler 2005; Hajer & Versteeg 2005). While I do not see that as a drawback and consider the analysis a potent reflection tool, particular audiences (practitioners, volunteers, policy-makers…) may be missing the prescriptive aspects. These could be possibly accomplished through a set of weighed recommendations based on the findings. 7. 3. Reflection on the methods and limitations of the study
While reflecting on the fieldwork (interviews and participant observations) and data analysis I recognised three kinds of limitations of the methods used, all typical to such ethnographic research. First, as a researcher I had an effect on what was being said and how both directly by what questions I posed (and how), but also more indirectly: respondents might have adapted their replies to fit some “expectations” of the interview or possibly not willing to reveal certain things. While most interviewees had no issues with being recorded or having their quotes attributed to them in the final report, there were a few who were rather reluctant – a running recorder might have influenced their answers about certain topics, even after I confirmed that everything they say will remain anonymous. Furthermore, I am not independent of the data either as I interpret it based on my prior knowledge and/or worldview. That is to be expected, however; as such studies first and foremost measure not the distance between the observer (researcher) and the observed (interviewees), but between the contents of the world before and after the study, caused by the interpretation and analysis (Hammersley & Atkinson 2007).
87 Since I studied only one case it could be questioned how representative are the findings. During my fieldwork it became clear that restoration community in Perth is actually relatively small and everyone knows or knows about each other. This is significant to the results as that gives credibility to particular storylines running through the interviews – information, knowledge, experience is exchanged and co- created within a group, thus discursive elements would be expected to appear repeatedly as well. Because of Perth’s particular historical and biogeophysical settings it is likely that the findings would not hold in another location – though this is difficult to say with certainty without carrying out a comparative study. It is possible that similar conclusions might be reached in another locality, but, for example, rationale for pursuing historical restoration would be different. In any case I was not necessarily aiming for generalisation – restoration is undoubtedly a fast growing sector in the Perth metropolitan area, so understanding perspectives and approaches dominant there might have intrinsic value of their own (Hammersley & Atkinson 2007).
Third type of limitations refer to practicalities. Perth is a vast city and I was bound to using public transportation, which obviously played a part in my selection of interviewees. I was limited to practitioners and volunteers working mostly in the urban settings; it is possible that perspectives of those practitioners pursuing mine rehabilitation or revegetation of abandoned agricultural fields might have been different as, for example, degradation levels are different from those experienced in urban locations. Travel restrictions also prevented me from actually going out with most of the practitioners to observe their activities. This possibly could have provided additional and relevant data. Finally, having to schedule interviews 2-3 weeks in advance due to limited availability of my interviewees affected my final tally of interviews; however, I do not think that more interviews would have necessarily been beneficial as I was already noting saturation of data.
I kept extensive reflection notes after each interview and field outings in order to examine what happened during the exchange and what could be improved for the next time. Most participants of the study showed great interest in my research, which I found to be important for my confidence and how I was approaching potential respondents. Overall, my time in Perth was very inspiring. I collected a large amount of data, but it was all really because of the willing, knowledgeable participants. That said, I observed that in fact in many cases the benefits of the exchange were mutual. That is not to say that respondents were expecting something in return (for example, in terms of some recommendations for better practice). However, the interview or exchanges on the sites often seemed to provide an outlet for respondents, whether to share their knowledge with someone or even question and reflect on some of their ideas. Possibly to a disadvantage of my own research, I recognised that that was an important role for me to play and I made sure to accommodate that:
88 “(…) interview went well, she had a lot to say on various topics, while I wanted to stay on the questions. But I’ve learned that that’s also my role, just sit there and let them talk. And I got most of the things I needed anyways and probably more.” (V4 reflection notes, November 25, 2015)
“At the end of [the] interview I had some questions about him sharing this knowledge with others or being approached by interested people. And he said ‘there was no one’. I also got this impression, (…) that he appreciated this opportunity to talk with me and share his work. I think I got this feeling from some other people as well, which also showed another rationale for my work – giving these passionate, hard-working people an opportunity to share their knowledge and expertise.” (P5 reflection notes, October 26, 2015)
Overall, in my opinion, methodology chosen was appropriate and serviced the study well. It is likely that if I were to carry out the same fieldwork again, the interviewee list would look different, especially the practitioner and volunteer section. However, if respondents were again limited to the Perth metropolitan area (rather than spreading out to mining areas or the Wheatbelt), I would not expect significantly different conclusions.
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96 Appendices Appendix 1. List of journal articles used in literature analysis 1. Aradottir, A.L. & Hagen, D. (2013) Ecological Restoration: Approaches and Impacts on Vegetation, Soils and Society. Advances in Agronomy, 120, 173–222. 2. Aronson, J., Murcia, C., Kattan, G.H., Moreno-Mateos, D., Dixon, K. & Simberloff, D. (2014) The road to confusion is paved with novel ecosystem labels: a reply to Hobbs et al. Trends in Ecology & Evolution, 29, 646– 647. 3. Balaguer, L., Escudero, A., Martín-Duque, J.F., Mola, I. & Aronson, J. (2014) The historical reference in restoration ecology: Re-defining a cornerstone concept. Biological Conservation, 176, 12–20. 4. Choi, Y.D. (2007) Restoration Ecology to the Future: A Call for New Paradigm. Restoration Ecology, 15, 351– 353. 5. Choi, Y.D. (2004) Theories for ecological restoration in changing environment: toward ‘futuristic’ restoration. Ecological Research, 19, 75–81. 6. Choi, Y.D., Temperton, V.M., Allen, E.B., Grootjans, A.P., Halassy, M., Hobbs, R.J., Naeth, M.A. & Torok, K. (2008) Ecological restoration for future sustainability in a changing environment. Ecoscience, 15, 53–64. 7. Clewell, A. & Aronson, J. (2013) The SER primer and climate change. Ecological Management & Restoration, 14, 182–186. 8. Collier, M.J. (2014) Novel ecosystems and the emergence of cultural ecosystem services. Ecosystem Services, 9, 166–169. 9. Ehrenfeld, J.G. (2000) Defining the Limits of Restoration: The Need for Realistic Goals. Restoration Ecology, 8, 2–9. 10. Hallett, L.M., Diver, S., Eitzel, M. V., Olson, J.J., Ramage, B.S., Sardinas, H., Statman-Weil, Z. & Suding, K.N. (2013) Do We Practice What We Preach? Goal Setting for Ecological Restoration. Restoration Ecology, 21, 312– 319. 11. Harris, J.A., Hobbs, R.J., Higgs, E. & Aronson, J. (2006) Ecological Restoration and Global Climate Change. Restoration Ecology, 14, 170–176. 12. Higgs, E. (2000) Nature by design. Technology and the Good Life? (eds E.S. Higgs, A. Light, & D. Strong), pp. 195–212. University of Chicago Press: Chicago. 13. Higgs, E., Falk, D.A., Guerrini, A., Hall, M., Harris, J.A., Hobbs, R.J., Jackson, S.T., Rhemtulla, J.M. & Throop, W. (2014) The changing role of history in restoration ecology. Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment, 12, 499– 506. 14. Hilderbrand, R.H., Watts, A.C. & Randle, A.M. (2005) The Myths of Restoration Ecology. Ecology and Society, 10, 19. [online]. 15. Hobbs, R.J., Higgs, E.S. & Harris, J.A. (2014) Novel ecosystems: concept or inconvenient reality? A response to Murcia et al. Trends in Ecology & Evolution, 29, 645–646. 16. Hobbs, R.J. (2007) Setting Effective and Realistic Restoration Goals: Key Directions for Research. Restoration Ecology, 15, 354–357. 17. Hobbs, R.J., Arico, S., Aronson, J., Baron, J.S., Bridgewater, P., Cramer, V.A., Epstein, P.R., Ewel, J.J., Klink, C.A., Lugo, A.E., Norton, D., Ojima, D., Richardson, D.M., Sanderson, E.W., Valladares, F., Vila, M., Zamora, R. & Zobel, M. (2006) Novel ecosystems: theoretical and management aspects of the new ecological world order. Global Ecology and Biogeography, 15, 1–7. 18. Hobbs, R.J., Davis, M.A., Slobodkin, L.B., Lackey, R.T., Halvorson, W. & Throop, W. (2004) Restoration ecology: the challenge of social values and expectations. Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment, 2, 43–48. 19. Hobbs, R.J., Hallett, L.M., Ehrlich, P.R. & Mooney, H.A. (2011) Intervention Ecology: Applying Ecological Science in the Twenty-first Century. BioScience, 61, 442–450.
97 20. Hobbs, R.J. & Harris, J.A. (2001) Restoration Ecology: Repairing the Earth’s Ecosystems in the New Millennium. Restoration Ecology, 9, 239–246. 21. Hobbs, R.J., Higgs, E. & Harris, J.A. (2009) Novel ecosystems: implications for conservation and restoration. Trends in Ecology & Evolution, 24, 599–605. 22. Hobbs, R.J., Higgs, E., Hall, C.M., Bridgewater, P., F Stuart Shapir III, Ellis, E.C., Ewel, J.J., Hallett, L.M., Harris, J., Hulvey, K.B., Jackson, S.T., Kennedy, P.L., Kueffer, C., Lach, L., Lantz, T.C., Lugo, A.E., Mascaro, J., Murphy, S.D., Nelson, C.R., Perring, M.P., Richardson, D.M., Seastedt, T.R., Standish, R.J., Starzomski, B.M., Suding, K.N., Tognetti, P.M., Yakob, L. & Yung, L. (2014) Managing the whole landscape: historical, hybrid, and novel ecosystems. Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment, 12, 557–564. 23. Hughes, F.M.R., Adams, W.M. & Stroh, P. A. (2012) When is Open-endedness Desirable in Restoration Projects? Restoration Ecology, 20, 291–295. 24. Jackson, S.T. & Hobbs, R.J. (2009) Ecological restoration in the light of ecological history. Science, 325, 567–9. 25. Keulartz, J. (2012) The Emergence of Enlightened Anthropocentrism in Ecological Restoration. Nature and Culture, 7, 48–71. 26. Marris, E., Mascaro, J. & Ellis, E.C. (2013) Perspective: Is Everything a Novel Ecosystem? If so, do we need the Concept? Novel Ecosystems: Intervening in the New Ecological World Order, 345–349. 27. Mateos, D.M. (2013) Is Embracing Change Our Best Bet? Science, 341, 458–459. 28. Monaco, T.A., Jones, T.A. & Thurow, T.L. (2012) Identifying Rangeland Restoration Targets: An Appraisal of Challenges and Opportunities. Rangeland Ecology & Management, 65, 599–605. 29. Murcia, C., Aronson, J., Kattan, G.H., Moreno-Mateos, D., Dixon, K. & Simberloff, D. (2014) A critique of the ‘novel ecosystem’ concept. Trends in Ecology & Evolution, 29, 548–553. 30. Palmer, M.A. (2009) Reforming watershed restoration: Science in need of application and applications in need of science. Estuaries and Coasts, 32, 1–17. 31. Perring, M.P., Standish, R.J., Price, J.N., Craig, M.D., Erickson, T.E., Ruthrof, K.X., Whiteley, A.S., Valentine, L.E. & Hobbs, R.J. (2015) Advances in restoration ecology: rising to the challenges of the coming decades. Ecosphere, 6. 32. Seastedt, T.R., Hobbs, R.J. & Suding, K.N. (2008) Management of novel ecosystems: are novel approaches required? Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment, 6, 547–553. 33. Shackelford, N., Hobbs, R.J., Burgar, J.M., Erickson, T.E., Fontaine, J.B., Laliberté, E., Ramalho, C.E., Perring, M.P. & Standish, R.J. (2013) Primed for Change: Developing Ecological Restoration for the 21st Century. Restoration Ecology, 21, 297–304. 34. Simberloff, D. & Vitule, J.R.S. (2014) A call for an end to calls for the end of invasion biology. Oikos, 123, 408– 413. 35. Suding, K.N. (2011) Towards an era of restoration ecology: successes and failures along the science-practice divide. Annual Review of Ecology, Evolution, and Systematics, 42, 465–87. 36. Suding, K.N., Higgs, E., Palmer, M., Callicott, J.B., Anderson, C.B., Baker, M., Gutrich, J.J., Hondula, K.L., LaFevor, M.C., Larson, B.M.H., Randall, A., Ruhl, J.B. & Schwartz, K.Z.S. (2015) Committing to ecological restoration. Science, 348, 638–640. 37. Wiens, J.A. & Hobbs, R.J. (2015) Integrating Conservation and Restoration in a Changing World. BioScience, 65, 302–312. 38. Zedler, J., Doherty, J. & Miller, N. (2012) Shifting restoration policy to address landscape change, novel ecosystems, and monitoring. Ecology and Society, 17, 36.
98 Appendix 2. List of interviews and fieldnotes
A1: researcher at Murdoch University (MU), 1 October 2015
A2: researcher at MU, 6 October 2015
A3: researcher at MU, 7 October 2015
A4: researcher at Botanic Gardens and Parks Authority (BGPA), 8 October 2015
A5: researcher at University of Western Australia (UWA), 9 October 2015
A6: researcher at UWA, 16 October 2015
A7: researcher at UWA, 16 October 2015
A8: researcher at MU, 5 November 2015
P1: sustainability manager, 1 October 2015
P2: ecologist at Department of Parks and Wildlife (DPaW), 9 October 2015
P3, P4: park manager and crew leader, 23 October 2015
P5: independent practitioner, 26 October 2015
P6, P7: representatives of restoration consultancy, 28 October 2015
P8: environmental officer at a local council, 9 November 2015
P9: representative of restoration consultancy, 10 November 2015
P10: landcare officer, 18 November 2015
P11: conservation officer at a local council, 18 November 2015
P12: park manager, 23 November 2015
P13: manager at DPaW, 26 November 2015
P14: environmental officer at a local council, 14 December 2015 (email exchange)
P15: ecologist at DPaW, 14 October 2015 (observation) and 16 October 2015 (email exchange)
P16: landcare officer, 29 October 2015 (fieldnotes)
V1: Ecojobs (contractor) field employee, 7 October 2015
V2, V3: students, CVG1 volunteers and (past) committee members, 20 October 2015
V4: convenor of a community volunteer group, 25 November 2015
V5: volunteer, 31 October 2015
O1: volunteer coordinator, 16 November 2015
CVG1: weed removal, 26 September 2015 and vegetation conditioning, 14 October 2015 (fieldnotes)
CVG2: work day, 10 October 2015 (fieldnotes)
CVG3: work day, 18 October 2015 (fieldnotes)
99 Appendix 3. Topic list for the semi-structured interviews
• Concepts guiding restoration practice o What is ecological/environmental restoration (from your perspective / in the context of WA)? o Criteria used to determine restoration objectives . Why these objectives? . What determines what and where to plant/weed? . Use of reference site? • Knowledge guiding restoration practice o Role of volunteers/practitioners o Role of scientists o Interaction and knowledge exchange among different actors • Views and positions in regards to the restoration objectives debate o Restoration of past ecosystems vs more practical approach o Climate change issue • Ecological restoration projects o Successes and disappointments
100 Appendix 4. Vegetation condition scales for natural area assessment
Keighery Condition Scale (Keighery 1994) Kaesehagen Condition Scale (Kaesehagen 1994)
PRISTINE
Pristine or nearly so, no obvious signs of disturbance
EXCELLENT VERY GOOD TO EXCELLENT
Vegetation structure intact; disturbance affecting individual 80% to 100% native flora composition species; weeds are non-aggressive species Vegetation structure intact or nearly so Cover/abundance of weeds <5% No or minimal signs of disturbance
VERY GOOD FAIR TO GOOD
Vegetation structure altered; obvious signs of disturbance 50% to 80% native flora composition Vegetation structure modified or nearly so For example, disturbance to vegetation structure caused by Cover/abundance of weeds 5% to 20%, any number repeated fires; the presence of some more aggressive of individuals weeds; dieback; logging; grazing Minor signs of disturbance GOOD
Vegetation structure significantly altered by very obvious signs of multiple disturbances. Retains basic vegetation structure or ability to regenerate it.
For example, disturbance to vegetation structure caused by very frequent fires; the presence of some very aggressive weeds at high density; partial clearing; dieback; grazing.
DEGRADED POOR
Basic vegetation structure severely impacted by disturbance. 20% to 50% native flora composition Scope for regeneration but not to a state approaching good Vegetation structure completely modified or nearly condition without intensive management. so Cover/abundance of weeds 20% to 60%, any number For example, disturbance to vegetation structure caused of individuals by very frequent fires; the presence of very aggressive weeds; partial clearing; dieback; grazing Disturbance incidence high
COMPLETELY DEGRADED VERY POOR
The structure of the vegetation is no longer intact and the area 0% to 20% Native flora composition is completely or almost completely without native species. Vegetation structure disappeared Cover/abundance of weeds 60% to 100%, any These areas are often described as ‘parkland cleared’ with number of individuals the flora comprising weed or crop species with isolated native trees or shrubs. Disturbance incidence very high
Adapted from Perth Biodiversity Project (PBP) Natural Area Initial Assessment Templates (http://pbp.walga.asn.au/Tools/NaturalAreaInitialAssessmentTemplates.aspx [Accessed March 7, 2016)
101 Appendix 5. Maps
Map 1 Regions of Western Australia. By Philtro (original uploader) - Credits to Toby Hudson, 2013. https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=27339556 [Accessed March 6, 2016]
Map 2 Perth with local government area boundaries. C – city, T – Town, S – Shire. From http://blog.corelogic.com.au/2013/06/q- when-is-a-city-not-a-city-a-when-its-a-suburb-or-a-council-region-or-a-statistical-division-or-a-statistical-subdivision-or-a/ [Accessed March 6, 2016]
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Map 3 Boundaries of Southwest Australia Ecoregion – southwest Western Australia biodiversity hotspot. Green – botanical province, Light orange – transitional zone. From http://www.wwf.org.au/our_work/saving_the_natural_world/australian_priority_places/southwest_australia/southwest_australia_ ecoregion/ [Accessed March 6, 2016]
Map 4 Close-up of Southwest Australia Ecoregion indicating the boundaries of different biogegraphic regions and botanical provinces in the southwest, including Swan Coastal Plain (SWA). Section of the map by Paul Gioia (from Paczkowska & Chapman 2000).
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