Sophie Pavelle on the climate crisis, endurance and resilience

Outside of the mountain hare—with its saddening climate change problem that its coat still turns a previously camouflaging white in winter despite the paucity of snow in recent years—there are few traditional, heartstring-tugging, cutesy endangered animals. There is a sprightly chapter on dung beetles, for example, with Pavelle dragging her rather reluctant friend Gina along to inspect an important part of the insect’s breeding cycle: the great British cowpat. There begins a rather long paean to cow poo, because as Pavelle writes, “It is nature’s will that a successful shag [for the dung beetle] depends on the availability of good dung… Some ecologists observed up to 50 beetles arriving by land and air [to a pat] in less than 20 minutes of a cow having a dump. What a superb fleet of horny dung-miners!” 

This was a concerted strategy, Pavelle explains: “I didn’t want any of the poster species of conservation: no puffins, no dolphins, no beavers. Because it was really important that I didn’t know anything about the species so that the reader and I are learning together, almost as friends. A lot of nature books I’ve read feel that the author is way up here, telling me what to think, how much they know and really showing off: ‘Look how much research I’ve done.’ Which obviously works for some writers. But I’ve found it is much more accessible to be learning together. Because then you and the reader are both surprised.”

One of the surprises for Pavelle in writing the book was that even though she was discovering frightening statistics about the difficulties facing these species, it got her thinking longer term. She explains: “These are monumental challenges. But we are so isolated in this short period of time where we’re alive, we indulge ourselves into thinking that the now is all that matters. But actually nature can be so resilient and has overcome so many roadblocks with extremes in temperature, ice ages, heatwaves… that said, it still frightens me. The Atlantic salmon, for example, has been unbelievably enduring. But in just a generation or so we’ve pushed them so far out into the sea that their navigation is being disturbed and they can’t get home to spawn. That we are able to disrupt such an ancient mechanism is terrifying.”

Born to run

Pavelle was born to naval officer parents in Augusta, Georgia, and was in America until her folks moved back home to the UK when she was four. She has spent much of her time since “on the banks of the River Exe” and her love of nature was partially instilled by her outdoorsy upbringing as she used to roam over Dartmoor and Devon’s South-West Coast Path. She considered a literature degree (“I’ve always been a writer”) before plumping for zoology at Bristol; her masters in science communication at the University of the West of England in many ways has allowed her to marry a love for the natural world and writing. She has been campaigning, writing and speaking ever since, joining the Beaver Trust in 2020, and is a youth ambassador for the Wildlife Trusts and on the advisory committee for the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds.

She has been at the Beaver Trust at a pivotal time for the animal in the UK, with a number of reintroduction projects, and last October the Eurasian beaver was recognised by the government as both a “native” and a “protected” species. “Beavers are having a moment,” she nods enthusiastically. “They represent everything we should be prioritising in the UK conservation sector, and our climate response as a whole: determined, systemic disruption, a re-building of climate resilient ecosystems from the bottom-up, undeniable public appeal and charisma. Beavers also test the human capacity and readiness for change. They are the ultimate teacher of ecology and adaptation. We can learn so much from them.”