Deepwater Horizon will have catastrophic effects on the ecology of the Gulf, effects that will last for years to come. But it isn't the only ecological disaster occurring right now.
Unlike that BP-spawned crisis, this other disaster is a natural one. And with no corporate villain, no 24-hour news cycle soundbites, and no end in sight, it's a story that's been all but ignored -- both by the traditional media and by a lot of otherwise comprehensive news sites online. In the last year, this looming disaster's been mentioned in Daily Kos diaries only twice in the last year. I'm willing to bet that most Kossacks don't even know it's going on.
I don't like diaries (or media reports) that are unnecessarily alarmist. They cause confusion and, like the boy who cried wolf, reduce the impact of those times when a call for alarm is needed. Deepwater Horizon, though, is one of those times where alarm is needed. This is another. If Deepwater Horizon has created oilpocalypse, then White Nose Syndrome is batpocalypse. And the implications are dire.
In February 2006, a a caver in Schoharie County, New York noticed a white fungus on some hibernating bats. A few were dead. But bat ecology was poorly researched, and no one realized anything significant was wrong. The next winter, the dead bats numbered in the hundreds, and had spread to caves in two counties in New York. It was now a topic of interest for the New York Department of Environmental Conservation and a handful of bat biologists. But it was a curiosity of science, not a problem.
The difference a year makes... winter 2007-2008 saw reports of dead, dying and infected bats over a rapidly growing swathe of land. Seven additional counties, from almost as far south as the New Jersey border all the way to just south of Canada. And beyond: Vermont, Massachusetts, Connecticut. Thousands of dead bats. Bats waking in mid-day, in mid-winter, to die, starving, on people's lawns. Mortality rates of infected caves are 70%-90% or higher; in some, no bats survive. Now it's a regional problem, and has the attention of the Northeast Region of the US Fish and Wildlife Service. Efforts began in earnest to find out what was killing these animals. Was it the fungus itself? Or was the fungus just taking advantage of bats dying to something else -- other diseases, parasites, pesticides?
Another year. By winter 2008-2009 it's already more than a regional problem as the disease spreads south. New Jersey, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Virginia. Bat migrations in the previous summer carried the fungus south along the cave-and-mine-rich Appalachians and then lay waste to the bats as they rest in winter. Half a million dead bats in three years. The fungus is identified and named. Why it causes such rampant mortality was (and is!) still unknown, but consensus agrees that the fungus is the culprit.
And another. This past winter, reports of the disease spread again. North across the border to Ontario and Quebec. South to Delaware, Maryland, and Tennessee ... and then leaping west in huge bounds. Confirmed in eastern Tennessee this February. Western Tennessee in March. Across the Mississippi River to Missouri in April. And, less than 24 hours ago, the possibility that it has already reached Woodward County, in western Oklahoma, some 500 miles from the closest known case.
We are sadly used to hearing about the decline of some species or another, victims of pollution or habitat encroachment, or global warming. But this isn't a "decline" any more than Deepwater Horizon has created a "spill". Dead bats now number over a million. There are seven species infected so far, including the endangered Indiana and gray bats. WNS has probably killed 10% of the Indiana bat population at this point, if not more. Gray bats are uniquely susceptible -- 95% of population hibernates in 8 (possibly 9) caves. And we have no idea how to stop it. Losing this many bats is causing a domino effect on the food chain. Despite everyone's desire to think of bats as mosquito-eaters, those stinging nuisances aren't a major component in their diet. But lots of other insects are. Insects, in particular, that are crop pests. In the Northeast, farmers are already increasing pesticide use to combat the increased insect population. The expectation is that more pesticides are going to be required. A lot more, in a widening area.
The US Fish and Wildlife Service's opinion is bleak. "If we cannot find how to eradicate
WNS, we face the real possibility of losing entire bat species," they wrote, a year ago. Today, the situation is worse. WNS is spreading faster than anticipated. It has infected major hibernacula in Tennessee. It has jumped the Mississippi at least a year ahead of researchers' predictions. And if WNS really is all the way in western Oklahoma, then we're looking at the abject decimation of cave-dwelling bats east of the Rockies within the next decade. The worst-case projections compare WNS to chestnut blight, the disease which killed 4 billion American chestnuts in 40 years and changed the fundamental nature of our eastern hardwood forests forever. And right now, we have no idea how to stop it. Caves on public land and those controlled by conservation societies, are closed in many states in an effort to limit human-mediated transmission -- you see, the spores are durable, and can ride on clothing, shoes, or caving gear -- although most of this spread is now believed to be bat to bat. Fungicides can destoy the culprit in the lab, but there's no way we can use that to combat the disease in the wild without massive environmental damage. Reintroduction is not an option, because the spores stay dormant in previously-infected caves. And captive breeding options look grim because the research needed to successfully raise bats in captivity has never been funded.
Consider donating to one of the conservation groups working to research and combat WNS, such as Bat Conservation International or the Center for Biological Diversity. Write your Congresscritters and encourage them to find time to allocate more money to WNS research. And please, either stay out of caves east of the Rockies that do or might support bat populations, or follow stringent disinfection protocols. Human-mediated transmission probably isn't the most important vector, but anything that slows the spread buys us -- and the bats -- more time.