Since the task began nearly three centuries ago, about 1.8 million species of animals, plants, fungi and members of the other kingdoms of life have been described. The art of assigning names to living things and placing them in a systematic hierarchy that reflects their relation to other taxa on the tree of life continues today in the cluttered halls of natural history museums and laboratories such as Systematics and Ecology Lab of NUS and the Raffles Museum of Biodiversity Research. Dried and alcohol-preserved specimens from Singapore and the nearby region are prodded and picked apart to reveal cryptic identities and a mind-boggling variety of creatures with no names and fewer prospects. What is one to make of the nearly 150 species of flies from a single family (Dolichopodidae, the long-legged flies) discovered and described by a Belgian entomologist in Singapore's freshwater swamps and mangroves in a single year?
In the time of Carl von Linnaeus about 300 years ago, some 7,700 species of plants and 4,400 species of animals were known. Since then, scientists have embarked on a worldwide frenzy for collection and taxonomy, aided in recent decades by new tools that revealed the existence of hitherto hidden creatures whose status became apparent when one looks at their genotype, phenology or even overlooked traits such as the distinctive courtship songs of apparently conspecific grasshoppers. But even this massive effort pales before the enormity of the task that lies before a tiny army of workers (the number of taxonomists working on liverworts and hornworts worldwide could probably fit into a single bus); biodiversity experts estimate that there are at least 100 million living species present on the earth today. Many of these are becoming extinct without a trace as species-rich habitats (particularly in the tropical regions) such as rainforests, wetlands, coral reefs, freshwater and peat swamps and mangroves are cleared in the name of progress daily. A fortunate few may end up with a name thanks to the last-ditch effort of researchers who sampled a habitat before its demise. But most perish without a chance to offer even a glimpse at their form and function in the chain of life; in turn, their extinction is likely to have unpredictable consequences on the plants and animals they feed upon as well as those that prey upon them.
Singapore likes to present itself as a model country, whatever that means. In assessing the global threat to biodiversity, this island nation serves as a prime exhibit of how headlong development can swamp what once was an isle of near infinite biological wealth. Up to 73 percent of Singapore's plant and animal species are now extinct and over three-quarters of those that remain are threatened with habitat loss, poaching and other activities such as the release of non-native species that prey on or outcompete indigenous wildlife. The tigers and elephants are gone, but so are countless smaller creatures and plants, some of which were wiped out along with their entire habitats. Out of seven endemic plants, only one remains, an aquatic aroid that clings to a tenuous existence in one small jungle pool. A prolonged drought, perhaps brought upon by more extreme weather patterns, would mean the end for this little herb. The trogons and broadbills, with their dazzling plumage of reds, blues and greens, are long gone, having no means of surviving in the fragmented and degraded forests whose fringes are yet threatened by luxury apartments and golf courses. In the depths of Upper Seletar Reservoir lie the remains of Mandai's wetlands, where the giant fighting fish Betta tomi once thrived. Now locally extinct, this species faces a precarious existence in Johor, where its habitat of coastal peat swamps are being drained.
What then is left, other than the mynahs, house crows, pigeons, red-eared sliders and changaeble lizards that landed on these shores thanks to man? "What remains is still very substantial," stressed Ambassador-At-Large Professor Tommy Koh, in his opening address at the 2nd Biodiversity of Singapore Symposium on 22 May 2007. And this is true, he added, despite the fact that up to 95% of Singapore's original natural habitats, from freshwater swamps and lowland coastal rainforests to reefs richer than those in the Caribbean and mangroves with myriad secrets, have been destroyed. The quote may be blasé to nature enthusiasts, but it bears repeating the observation of botanist and conservationist David Bellamy that Bukit Timah Reserve alone contains more species of trees than the entire North American continent.
The seas surrounding Singapore, often regarded as lifeless, harbour more than 800 species of fish and nearly 200 species of hard corals. On land, there remain 2,500 species of plants, 360 bird species, 270 species of butterflies, 120 species of reptiles, 75 mammalian species, 25 species of amphibians and many more are being discovered, especially in the freshwater swamp forest of Nee Soon, a locality that is probably richer in biodiversity than the more famous reserve of Bukit Timah. The swamp forest also shelters three endemic freshwater crabs as well as two of Singapore's most threatened endemic mammals, the cream-coloured giant squirrel (Ratufa affinis affinis) and banded leaf monkey (Presbytis femoralis femoralis). Only about 10 of these cat-size squirrels are thought to remain and a single troupe of leaf monkeys is all that survives. Their extinction would be "a great shame" to Professor Koh, who notes that at some point in history, mankind has "lost the balance between the human enterprise and the natural world" to his peril.
The occasion, which also commemorated the International Day for Biological Diversity as well as the Linnaean Tercentenary (more of that in a later post), was also Professor Koh's to tout the 2nd edition (with colour!) of the book The Natural Heritage of Singapore, co-authored by a quartet of local biodiversity luminaries. Though it masquerades as a textbook, this volume probably achieves the most successful balance to date between ecological comprehensiveness and lay accessibility, with a substantial plea for the preservation of what remains in the name of the environmental and human services provided by local biodiversity. Taken together with earlier resources such as the BP-Science Centre pocket guides (some of which are now available online) and live channels such as HabitatNews, Wild Singapore and the Bird Ecology Study Group blog, it is a perfect antidote to the stupefying mentality that the natural environment is absent and therefore meaningless to the Singapore equation.
Professor Koh, who is also the patron of the Nature Society of Singapore, recently penned an op-ed, "Mother Earth Is Sick" that was published in the Straits Times on Earth Day. Pursuing the theme of his article, in which he outlined a good handful of low-hanging fruits that could be plucked locally, Professor Koh made an appeal to developing nations, notably China and India, which are currently not obligated to meet the emissions quotas set by the Kyoto Protocol, to set aside ideological differences and initiate unilateral targets for greenhouse gas emissions. Though latecomers to the industrialised state-of-being, these nations have as much right to develop and aspire to higher living standards as any other country, he noted. But the sheer scale and pace of modernisation of China and India – with the consequent output of pollutants and emissions that affect lives far beyond their borders – create a compelling case for these nations to "accept their correlative obligations as global citizens."
"What is the point of getting rich if you create an environment in which you cannot live?" asks Professor Koh. Improving energy efficiency (coal still dominates in Chinese plants) would be a clear priority as well as a target with tangible benefits for both the economy and environment. In the long term, China could lower its dependence and vulnerability to fossil fuels as well as volatile energy markets by emulating the post oil crisis efforts of Japan, which now uses just one-ninth of the energy used by China to generate every unit of GDP. (Singapore isn't exactly the top performer in this arena either, added Professor Koh). The Yangtze River Dolphin is now functionally extinct (the first cetacean to face this dubious fate, although others could follow as well as climate change disrupts their food chain) and with a third of fish species in the river also extirpated, China may face a future of undrinkable and barren waterways, encroaching deserts and foul air.
In its own way, Singapore is now embarking on such a path, with the Singapore Green Plan 2012, and Professor Koh sees a potential for greater use of clean and renewable energy sources. The island's deep-pocketed financial sector could also serve as a self-serving force for positive change, in promoting carbon trading, underwriting clean energy projects as well as broader investments that incorporate steps to mitigate climate change. "It's time for Singapore and Asean to rise to the challenge" of global warming, he said in closing, pointing out that environmental sustainability and climate change is now a key agenda for Asean in its forthcoming summit. Will this sudden surge of urgency be too little, too late, or more talk than walk? The next decade will tell.
hey I was there as well! Enjoyed the presentations by the speakers very much
Posted by: Philip | 24 May 2007 at 12:04 AM