At 03:26 PM 4/9/98 EDT, you wrote:
>I am not disputing that many plant species are dieing. However (not really
>knowing shit about botany) it was my understanding that new species are also
>created on a regular basis. Is this true? ALSO, is the current RATE of
>specie disappearance greater than it was say 10-20-30 years ago? If species
>constantly disappear and get created, then the bad thing is species
>disappearing at an increasing rate.
>
>maggie coleman [EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
I think the consensus is that new species are not being created at anywhere
near the same rate. The reason for this is the same as that causing
extinction: capitalist development is wiping out the objective basis for
new plant creation. When the Amazon rainforest has been completely turned
into toilet paper or toothpicks, it is unlikely that new types of flowers
or trees will be spawned.
Here is more background information on species extinction and the risks
attached from World Resources Institute. It is interesting that they
mention the disappearance of Indian languages since this problem was
reported on in today's NY Times in an article adjacent to the one on
plantlife extinction. I attach it below.
-----------------------
Species Extinctions: Causes and Consequences Documenting extinctions
The number of documented species extinctions over the past century is small
compared to those predicted for the coming decades. This difference is due,
in part, to the acceleration of rates of habitat loss over recent decades
but also to the difficulty of documenting extinctions. The vast majority of
species has not yet even been described, and many may disappear before they
are even known to science. Moreover, species are generally not declared to
be extinct until years after they have last been seen--so figures for
documented extinctions are highly conservative. Finally, some species whose
populations are reduced by habitat loss below the level necessary for
long-term survival may hang on for several decades without hope of recovery
as their population dwindles--these are the "living dead."
Still, evidence of extinction, especially of distinct populations of
species, is only too plentiful. In 1990, the otter died out in the
Netherlands, and in 1991 Britain declared the mouse-eared bat extinct. In
the eastern Pacific, elevated sea temperatures in the 1980s caused the
extinction of a hydrocoral. In the past decade, at least 34 species or
unique populations of plants and vertebrates have become extinct in the
United States while awaiting federal protection. Worldwide, over 700
extinctions of vertebrates, invertebrates, and vascular plants have been
recorded since 1600. How many species went extinct elsewhere, unnoticed?
Habitat loss not only precipitates species extinctions, it also represents
a loss of biodiversity in its own right. In many countries, relatively
little natural vegetation remains untouched by human hands. In Bangladesh,
only 6 percent of the original vegetation remains. Forests around the
Mediterranean Sea probably once covered 10 times their current area, and in
the Netherlands and Britain, less than 4 percent of lowland raised bogs
remain undamaged.
Loss of genetic diversity
The dramatic loss of species and ecosystems obscure equally large and
important threats to genetic diversity. Worldwide, some 492 genetically
distinct populations of tree species (including some full species) are
endangered. In the northwestern United States, 159 genetically distinct
populations of ocean-migrating fish are at high or moderate risk of
extinction, if they have not already slipped into oblivion.
Loss of genetic diversity could imperil agriculture. How much the genetic
base has already eroded is hard to say, but since the 1950s, the spread of
modern "Green Revolution" varieties of corn, wheat, rice, and other crops
has rapidly squeezed out native landraces. Modern varieties were adopted on
40 percent of Asia's rice farms within 15 years of their release, and in
the Philippines, Indonesia, and some other countries, more than 80 percent
of all farmers now plant the new varieties. In Indonesia, 1500 local rice
varieties have become extinct in the last 15 years. A recent survey of
sites in Kenya with wild coffee relatives found that the coffee plants in
two of the sites had disappeared, three sites were highly threatened, and
six were possibly threatened. Only two were secure.
The impact of such losses of genetic diversity often registers swiftly. In
1991, the genetic similarity of Brazil's orange trees opened the way for
the worst outbreak of citrus canker recorded in the country. In 1970, U.S.
farmers lost $1 billion to a disease that swept through uniformly
susceptible corn varieties. Similarly, the Irish potato famine in 1846, the
loss of a large portion of the Soviet wheat crop in 1972, and the citrus
canker outbreak in Florida in 1984 all stemmed from reductions in genetic
diversity. In such countries as Bangladesh, where some 62 percent of rice
varieties come from a single maternal plant, Indonesia (74 percent), and
Sri Lanka (75 percent), such outbreaks could occur at any time.
Gene banks have slowed the loss of genetic diversity, but the high costs of
periodically regenerating the seeds and the risk of mechanical failures
make seedbanks less than fail-safe. In 1980, experts estimated that even in
developed countries between one-half and two-thirds of the seeds collected
in past decades had been lost. In 1991, representatives of 13 national
germplasm banks in Latin America reported that between 5 and 100 percent of
the maize seed collected between 1940 and 1980 is no longer viable.
Loss of cultural diversity
The loss of genetic, species, and ecosystem diversity both stems from and
invites the loss of cultural diversity. Diverse cultures have bred and
sustained numerous varieties of crops, livestock, and habitats. By the same
token, the loss of certain crops, the replacement of traditional crops with
export crops, the extinction of species embedded in religion, mythology, or
folklore, and the degradation or conversion of homelands are cultural as
well as biological losses. Since 1900, experts say, about one Indian tribe
has disappeared from Brazil each year. Almost one half of the world's 6000
languages may die out in the next 100 years. Of the 3000 languages expected
to survive for a century, nearly half will probably not last much longer.
Copyright © 1992. World Resources Institute, 1709 New York Avenue, NW,
Washington, DC 20006 (202/638-6300; fax: 202/638-0036). For more
information contact [EMAIL PROTECTED]
--------------------------
April 9, 1998
American Indians Trying to Save Languages From Extinction
By JAMES BROOKE
HOOPA, Calif. -- At age 88 and blind in one eye, James Jackson Jr. keeps a
crystal clear memory of a tiny linguistic skirmish in a continental
campaign that has brought most of North America's Indian languages to the
brink of extinction.
"The teacher at the Indian school grabbed my friend by the arm and said,
'You're speaking your language -- I'm going to wash your mouth out with
soap,"' Jackson recalled. "That's where we lost it."
Eight decades later, Jackson told his story, in English, to a small circle
of Hupa language students. Although the tribe has about 2,000 members, the
room contained the four people who make up about half of the world's fluent
Hupa speakers: Jackson, his younger sister, Minnie, and two elderly
friends. Two others died in February.
Despite five centuries of population decline, assimilation and linguistic
oppression, North America's Indian languages have survived surprisingly
well: 211 still exist today; there were about 300 such languages when
Europeans first arrived in what is now the United States and Canada.
But with the impact of television and radio and increased mobility, North
America's Indian languages are suffering their sharpest free fall in
recorded history.
Of the 175 Indian languages still spoken in the United States, only 20 are
still spoken by mothers to babies, said Michael Krauss, a linguist at the
University of Alaska who surveys native languages. In contrast, 70
languages are spoken only by grandparents, and 55 more are spoken by 10 or
fewer tribal members.
"This is a major American tragedy that people are generally in a state of
denial about," Krauss said. Noting that the federal government spends only
$2 million a year to save endangered Indian languages, he said that under
the Endangered Species Act, "we are spending $1 million a year per Florida
panther to save the species."
Belonging to 62 language families, American Indian languages are as
dramatically different as German, Chinese and Turkish.
With the rise of a global economy and increased communications, about half
of the world's 6,000 languages are expected to disappear over the next
century. Among American Indians, that process is unfolding today.
"We just gave a grant to study Klamath," said Douglas Whalen, a Yale
University linguist who directs a new nonprofit group, the Endangered
Language Fund. "When the proposal was made, Klamath had two speakers. Now,
it is down to one."
Rapid erosion is also affecting the largest tribes.
In Arizona among the Navajo, the most populous tribe in the United States,
the portion of native speakers among first-graders has dropped from 90
percent in 1968 to 20 percent today.
In Montana, the 9,300 enrolled Crow members display a classic American
Indian linguistic profile: 77 percent of Crow Indians over 66 years of age
speak the language, while only 13 percent of preschoolers do.
On paper, California has the most linguistic diversity in the nation: 50
Indian languages are still spoken there, down from 80 in the pre-colonial
era.
"But not a single one of those languages is now being spoken natively by
children," said Leanne Hinton, a linguistics professor at the University of
California at Berkeley. "We are heading toward a state where we will have
no native speakers of any of the California languages in 10 or 20 years. We
are entering an age when speakers of the California languages will be
learning in school, or as adults, rather than at home."
As the language circle at the Hupa community center suggests, however,
there is a belated movement among American Indians to rescue their
languages from extinction.
"It's part of our culture; it contains how a Hupa person views the world --
to lose the language would be to lose our identity," said Daniel Ammon, a
Hupa high school teacher who is one of several dozen adults studying the
tribe's complex language. "I will talk to my kids all the time in Hupa."
At the regional high school in Hoopa, a town of 1,000 people on a bend of
the Trinity River in northwestern California, classes started last fall in
the three languages of Indians in this area: Hupa, Karuk and Yurok.
"I want to know Karuk because it is my language, because I want to teach it
to my children," Nisha Supahan, 15, said after class as her twin sister,
Elaina, giggled in assent.
Their 27-year-old Karuk teacher, Susan Smith, contrasted their attitude
with her detribalized upbringing. "I never heard my language as a child,"
she said. "I didn't even know how to pronounce my tribal name."
Ammon and Ms. Smith learned their native language through an innovative
effort to stave off linguistic extinction. Since 1992, the Native
California Network, a nonprofit group based in Visalia, in the state's
south-central region, has sponsored 50 "apprentices" to undergo intensive
language immersions, sometimes for up to 500 hours, with "masters," tribal
elders who speak the language.
The language revival effort is taking many forms. Last year the Crow Tribal
Council adopted resolutions declaring Crow the official language of the
reservation, honoring fluent speakers as "tribal treasures" and encouraging
all tribal members to speak the language.
Elsewhere in Montana, the Northern Cheyenne are offering tribal children a
summer language camp, taught by the five elders who still speak Cheyenne
fluently. In Missoula, summer language classes are offered in Blackfeet.
Across Montana, a recent state decision to ease the certification of Indian
language instructors has led to an upsurge in language instruction.
Idaho State University now offers Shoshoni for foreign language credit.
"At least one quarter of the 30 tribal colleges now require language
study," David Cournoyer, a director of the American Indian College Fund,
said in Denver. "Today, 25 different languages are taught, plus Plains
Indian sign language."
In Connecticut, the Mohegan and Pequot are studying written records in
their languages in an effort to revive languages that have not been spoken
since the early 1900s. Due to the work of missionaries and anthropologists,
virtually all of the Indian languages in North America have dictionaries
and written texts.
While official language extermination policies have stopped, the main
threat today, said Krauss, the University of Alaska linguist, is "the
cultural nerve gas of television."
Putting electronic communications to work, the Hopi of Arizona have
expanded Hopi language radio broadcasting, the Choctaw of Oklahoma have
produced native language video dramas, the Sioux of South Dakota maintain a
Lakota language internet chat room, and the Skomish of Washington have
produced a Twana language CD-ROM.
"There has been an almost total inversion in attitudes toward the native
language," said Victor Golla, a linguistics professor at nearby Humboldt
State University, who started visiting here 30 years ago. "Before, people
were unconcerned about their native language. Now there is a very strong
feeling among almost all the people that the loss of their language would
be a tragic and very damaging thing."
Indians interested in reviving traditional ways say they cannot pray to
their ancestors in English.
"A number of people have learned how to pray in their language," said Ms.
Hinton, the Berkeley linguistics professor, who runs a summer program for
Indians in California seeking to revive their languages from recorded field
notes and tapes. "They are starting to reinvent their languages so they can
pray at ceremonies and funerals."
Linguists caution that the language revival movement may only delay
inevitable extinctions. But here in Hoopa, a change can already be felt.
"Before, on the bus, I used to say to my sister in Karuk, 'Look at that
guy's shirt,' and nobody knew what we were talking about," Nisha Supahan
said. "Now that's not true anymore."
Copyright 1998 The New York Times Company
