Title: The True Cost of Wild Animals: Nature’s Value Extends Beyond Economics
Subtitle: It’s the bigotry that pisses me off
In a recent revelation, the Norwegian Forestry Agency and LRF have accused moose and wild boar of costing Sweden a staggering SEK 9 billion annually. However, this view that wild animals “cost” us has sparked a debate about the invaluable role of nature and the need for a broader perspective.
The author of a recent Aftonbladet editorial questions the simplistic notion of valuing nature solely as an economic resource. The piece contends that it is far too silly to overlook the multifaceted significance of nature and reduce it to mere financial figures.
The latest claims made by the state Forestry Agency and LRF have raised eyebrows. The moose alone supposedly costs approximately seven billion kronor, a number that is expected to rise when forest companies calculate their figures. Meanwhile, wild boars are said to cost two billion kronor annually. Astounded by these numbers, the forest companies are now demanding an extension of the hunting time.
However, the author raises an essential question – how do we determine the cost of wild animals? Should we compare it to a landscape completely devoid of moose and wild pigs? And at what expense should other animals vanish to avoid incurring “costs” for forest companies and farmers?
The interconnectedness of nature comes to the forefront when considering the impact of hunting. As a manager at the forestry company Stora Enso puts it, two moose eat more than one moose does. If there is only one moose left, soon there will be none at all. This is the ecosystem’s delicate balance at work.
While it is understandable that deer, geese, cranes, and beavers may have conflicting needs, what about deer, hares, and the great wood grouse? The forest companies’ felling plans often clash with the natural habitats of these animals, presenting an ongoing obstacle.
The article emphasizes that a landscape stripped of these animals would lead to a monocultural nightmare, devoid of a functioning ecosystem. Without such diversity, there would be no lichens, fragile orchids, or even blueberries and lingonberries, as they do not thrive in dark, dense spruce forests.
The author’s frustration lies not in the prioritization of human needs but in the absurdity of overlooking the intrinsic value of nature. The concept that these needs can be reduced to profit margins in forest companies’ annual reports or agricultural profitability is disconcerting.
It goes beyond outdoor life and hunting; it’s about our identity and how we perceive our world. What would it cost us as humans to deprive the next generation of experiencing a moose anywhere other than at Skansen? What price would we pay to witness the complete disappearance of life from our forests?
Setting a financial value on the irreplaceable moments, such as a pair of cranes on a solitary bog in June or the sight of geese gliding through the autumn wind, is a futile endeavor. The true worth of a beaver crafting its glittering V in the forest stars, or the powerful feeling when a woodpecker gracefully takes flight nearby, cannot be quantified.
In the end, the article believes that everything nature offers is priceless, and we will only realize its true value when it is irrevocably lost. As time passes, it is hoped that LRF, forest companies, and others will come to appreciate the irreplaceable importance of nature beyond material figures and present alternative ways of measuring its worth.
As we strive to strike a delicate balance between economic needs and ecological preservation, it becomes imperative to recognize that the value of nature’s wonders lies far beyond mere numbers and spreadsheets.
Note: The summary has been created with the assistance of AI tools from OpenAI and has been quality assured by Aftonbladet.