We’ve all heard about peer-reviewed stock assessments. That’s what you get when a team of biologists
assesses the health of one stock of fish, and another panel of expert
scientists, unrelated to the first, reviews that team’s work and determines
whether it is good enough to use for fisheries management purposes.
If it is, it represents a sort of “gold standard” for
fisheries managers, who can then establish regulations based on the assessment,
and be reasonably certain that they’re doing the right thing.
However, if you go down to the docks, pick up a press
release put out by one of the anglers’ rights groups or read some of the comments
on Internet chat boards, you’ll find that a lot of people don’t give the
peer-reviewed assessments, or the scientists who provide them, much
weight.
In those venues, the folks with the most authority—which
generally equates to the guy with the loudest voice in the bar, the
underemployed guy who spends his whole day on chat boards and the guy who publishes
the local outdoor magazine—prefer a somewhat different analysis of a stock’s
health, which might be called a “beer-reviewed stock assessment,” given
where such contrary assessments, once issued, are often discussed.
A proper beer-reviewed assessment begins with complete
contempt for everything that’s required to pass peer review.
Beer-reviewed assessments lack any sort of
numbers, objective data or population models, which make them pretty easy to
put together, and just as easy to understand.
Even though they're usually wrong.
For example, in 2011, a
peer-reviewed stock assessment of Gulf of Maine cod determined that
“the stock is overfished and overfishing is occurring,”
and found that
“the stock does not rebuild by the current rebuilding date of
2014.”
The same assessment determined that while it was safe to
harvest a little under 20% of the cod population each year, fishermen were
actually taking more—perhaps much more—than 55% of the population annually. As a result, a population that should comprise about 61,000 metric tons
had been reduced to somewhere between 9,500 and 16,500 metric tons, and thus
was badly overfished.
In response to that assessment, the National Marine
Fisheries Service cut harvest by 77% in an attempt to rebuild the stock and
prevent its collapse. And that’s when
the beer-review began, with reviewers claiming that the harvest cuts were “based
on flawed science.”
Because, as any beer-reviewer knows, the science is always
“flawed” (or "bad") when it doesn’t let you kill enough fish.
It doesn’t matter what species is involved, what state
you’re in or whether the guy who’s talking runs a charter boat or a commercial
trawler. They’ll explain that [fill in
the precise words and the type of fish as needed…]
Yes, they’ll tell you that.
No numbers or population models or analysis needed. Just take their word for it, there’s plenty
of cod…
And, of course, cod aren’t the only species subject to
beer-reviewed assessments. You can
mention just about any stock of fish out there, and if NMFS wants to conserve
or rebuild it, the beer-review panel will tell us that the peer-review panel
was wrong.
For another example, we can look at red snapper in the Gulf
of Mexico, where last
year’s peer-reviewed stock assessment panel found that the population, though
recovering, still has a lot of rebuilding to do.
The spawning stock is just about half of the target level, and far below where it was as recently as 1970 or so—far, far
below where it was before commercial exploitation began in the late 1800s. However, the beer-reviewed assessments said
otherwise, saying
and
In the South Atlantic, where stock assessments indicate that
the species is far more depleted than it is in the Gulf, they said the same
thing about red snapper a few years ago, noting
That’s similar to this complaint about South Atlantic black
sea bass, where
Does anybody notice a pattern here?
The essence of science—including peer-reviews—is that it is
objective, data-driven and subject to verification; that is, other folks can
take the same data and come up with the same results or, at the worst, confirm
that the data doesn’t include any calculation or sampling errors, and so is
statistically valid. Any biases that
might be included (in fisheries management, they show up as “retrospective
changes” in the population model when new data is added) is recognized and
accounted for.
The essence of the beer review is that it is subjective, not
based on data and cannot be verified by independent, objective observers. Sampling is biased—that is, fishermen who
issue beer-reviewed assessments don’t make random samples or try to verify the
“null hypothesis” that the peer-reviewed assessment was right—but rather go to
places where they are most likely to catch fish with the express intent of
showing why the peer-reviewed assessment is wrong. And since the beer-reviewers will probably
increase their incomes—or at least their catch, if purely recreational—by
discrediting the science, their motive to do so is strong and the likelihood of
bias, which they never admit to, is even greater.
The other problem with beer-reviewed assessments is that
they take the very localized experiences of individuals, who may have
relatively little historical knowledge of a fishery, and trying to extrapolate
that limited experience to the entire stock.
Even when a stock is badly depleted, a chance combination of
circumstances can lead to pockets of local abundance, and some folks will still
be putting plenty of fish on the dock when everyone else is suffering through a
real drought. That can be particularly
true in commercial fisheries, where the skill of the fishermen, coupled with
their willingness to switch ports in order to follow what’s left of the
resource, can keep catches high and convince them that there’s still plenty of
fish left to catch, even when the overall population is down.
However, it can also occur in recreational fisheries. Perhaps the best example occurred decades
ago; the Atlantic striped bass stock was beginning to collapse, and fishermen
from Maine to North Carolina were beginning to notice the decline. But on Cape Cod, at the core of the striper’s
summer range, a lot of big fish were still available, and many fishermen denied
the truth of stock assessments showing that the bass were in rapid decline,
merely because their limited experience didn’t support it.
Something similar can occur when a badly depleted stock—particularly
one that’s been down for a very long time—begins to recover. Fishermen start encountering a lot more fish
than they had before, and begin to declare that the stock’s health is good
based on their own subjective experiences, when the objective truth is very
different. Roy Crabtree, Director of
NMFS Southeast Regional Office, noted this phenomenon with respect to South
Atlantic red snapper.
Yet to fisherman who never saw so many fish before, all is
well.
Such misconceptions can do real harm to fisheries management
efforts, because fishermen often question solid, peer-reviewed stock assessments
and accept beer-reviewed versions that lead to more palatable conclusions.
A lot of that results from a natural tendency to cherry-pick
information that supports what you want to believe.
I think that there are very few fishermen who want to go out
and intentionally fish a stock into collapse; after all, that would destroy
either their business or their avocation.
However, there is little question that fishermen want to go
out and catch fish, and faced with government regulators, who insist that fish
stocks are bad, and fishermen (and fishermen’s organizations) who use their
reputations and experience on the water to add credibility to claims that the
stocks are OK, they tend to credit the folks who they know—and who say what
they want to hear--over the remote and sometimes standoffish “experts” from
some lab in another state.
And then, of course, there are also the people, businesses
and organizations who elevate their own short-term concerns over the long-term
health of the stocks, and thus profit from sowing distrust and even contempt
for professional fisheries managers.
So the question is, what are fisheries managers,
conservation advocates and well-intentioned fishermen to do about
beer-reviewed assessments that turn public opinion against science and threaten
the health of fish stocks?
For fishermen, the best approach is to take up the scientists’
strongest weapon—simple skepticism.
Don’t take anyone’s word for anything; make them show you the data. When somebody tells you that “there are more
red snapper than there’s been for 100 years,” as the irate employee of an
advocacy outfit wrote to me just a few
days ago, the response should be “show me the numbers” which, of course, indicate just the opposite. Anglers may not be able to confirm
the results of a stock assessment from the data provided—I know that I lack the
math skills to do it—but they can take comfort from the fact that it has passed
a rigorous and detailed peer review.
Conservation groups that engage in fisheries issues are the
natural allies of fishermen; both want healthy and abundant stocks. But, sorry to say, the trust isn’t
there. Some of that is due to a few
fishing industry groups, mostly based in the north, who have spent the last
couple of decades trying to poison the waters and foster angler
distrust of conservation efforts. Some
of it is due to the conservation groups themselves, who have occasionally
embarked on campaigns that made anglers feel threatened (marine protected
areas, anyone?), fail to engage in sufficient consultation and
collaboration, and so lend credence to claims that they were “anti-fishing” and
intended to force folks off the water. A
reconciliation, involving real and sincere outreach, is badly needed here.
The problem with fisheries managers is much the same. Although some managers are better than others
when it comes to user-group outreach (the Mid-Atlantic Fisheries Management
Council deserves particular plaudits here), too many times agencies don’t make
enough of an effort to explain—in simple terms and in the right forums—why
unpopular but necessary decisions are made. Such standoffishness serves to make fishermen
hostile, and more willing to believe the demagogues’ claims that the fisheries
management system, which has already rebuilt many stocks and is poised to
rebuild even more, is “broken” and needs to be scrapped.
For scrapping the system would be a bad thing. If that happens, the beer-reviewed
assessments will give us a hangover that we may not cure in our lifetimes.
No comments:
Post a Comment