MY PEOPLE SAY that animals are our greatest teachers. They believe that Creator asked the animals to introduce human beings to the world, to be our guides and show us how to move gently on the earth. The animals accepted this great responsibility, and we have thrived ever since because of their teachings. They are stalwart examples of principles like harmony and balance in action, and, as my people say, that is our purpose here as humans—to learn to live principled lives.
So it was disheartening to read about the shocking decline in the population of Arctic caribou. I have never had the pleasure of roaming the tundra, but I love the image of teeming hordes of caribou pouring across the land. For many of us, it’s a national motif.
Scientists report that the number of cows on the calving grounds has fallen by 98 per cent over the last fourteen years. Only ninety-three cows were spotted near Baker Lake, Nunavut, in 2009. That was down from more than 5,500 for the Beverly herd in the same area in 1994. The birth rate for caribou is now one fifth its historical level. For the Beverly herd, which once numbered a quarter million, the situation spells doom.
Scientists have labelled the decline of the caribou as “mysterious,” but that’s just a handy euphemism for “don’t bollocks our funding.” There is no mystery to the impending demise of the caribou. “Progress” has doomed them to extinction, just as it did another Canadian symbol, the buffalo. Here in the mountains, logging and mineral exploration have decimated great numbers of assorted creatures. Similarly, industrial activity has destroyed the calving grounds of the caribou.
In addition to the Beverly herd, five of the eight main western Arctic caribou herds are in serious decline. That’s tough news for the Dene, Metis and Inuit whose diet and culture depend on those animals. Then again, disappearing Aboriginal people is a symbol of Canada, too. When the land is needed for development, what’s a species or a culture or two in the long view of things?
Trying to harness nature is a foolhardy business. As a species, we’ve resisted learning that, and the earth is rebelling. My people also say there will come a time when the animals turn their backs on humans. When that happens, we will feel a loneliness like no other, and the world will become a barren place. Recent signs across the globe support the accuracy of this teaching. Everywhere, animals are in danger of vanishing. Natural disasters are increasing in size and frequency, and vast alterations in the earth’s rhythms are taking place. Heedless, we march along to the beat of progress. We allow industry to increase its carbon emissions or to police itself in meeting carbon limits that are ineffective in producing real results. Some scientists would have us believe that global warming is simply a fashionable theme rather than a phenomenon that threatens us with extinction. Meanwhile, the caribou are leaving us.
The spirit teaching of the great caribou herds is community. They offer us a model of interaction that we would do well to adopt. Their presence on the land is an ongoing gift. Their disappearance would create a moral, spiritual and ethical vacuum. We can’t allow our arrogance to create such holes in our relationship with our living, breathing planet. Our home is a finite place, and the responsibility for living here with respect, humility and purpose rests with all of us. I fervently hope it isn’t too late to say, borrowing from the great Neil Young, long may we run.