Bird protection between the U.S and Japan in the 19th and 20th centuries

Note: This is a working paper presented to the Human Dimensions of Wildlife group at Salem State University, Spring 2016.

In its June 1857 edition, Boston-based agricultural monthly, New England Farmer, ran an article titled “Spare the Birds.”

It began:

Spring is at hand, and with its pleasures will come the daily nuisance to those who dwell amid rural scenes, of hearing the ‘soft notes of the shot-gun.’ Every one who has paid attention to the matter, knows that even crows and blackbirds are productive of more good than harm, and that the vast increase of late years of destructive insects, is owing almost entirely to the wanton destruction of birds which are not even legitimate game. (p. 291)

The “spare the birds” article was a seasonal staple of 19th century American periodicals, particularly agricultural journals, which had, since their inception in the 1820s as a publication genre, engaged in a crusade against the needless shooting of birds (Oehlkers, 2015). Birds, even those considered pests, were the “farmer’s best friend,” controlling insects that would otherwise ruin crops. To shoot insectivorous birds for sport was not only cruel — it also damaged the agricultural economy. The Audubon movement at the end of the century, which would go on to ensure nation-wide legislative protection for non-game birds, drew energy and arguments from decades of these “spare the birds”-style essays.

The June 1857 New England Farmer article, however, included a new kind of argument, one based on cross-cultural comparison. It continued:

In Japan the birds are regarded as sacred, and never under any pretense are they permitted to be destroyed. During the stay of the expedition at Japan a number of officers started on a gunning excursion. No sooner did the people observe the cruel slaughtering of their favorites than a number of them waited upon the Commodore and remonstrated against the conduct of the officers. There was no more bird shooting in Japan by American officers after that; and when the treaty between the two countries was concluded, one express condition of it was, that the birds should always be protected. What a commentary upon the inhuman practice of our shooting gentry, who are as eager in the pursuit of a tomtit [chickadee] as of an eagle, and indiscriminately shoot everything in the form of a bird which has the misfortune to come within the reach of their murderous weapons. (p. 291)

The contemporary reader would have recognized this as a reference to the 1854 expedition of Commodore Perry and his “Black Ships” to Japan, which ultimately resulted in the “opening” of Japan and the modernizations of the Meiji era. (Among the gifts given by Perry to the Japanese was Audubon’s Birds of America.) The bird-shooting excursion did indeed leave its mark on the 1854 regulations of the Japanese expedition. Article 10 stated plainly: “The shooting of birds and animals is generally forbidden in Japan, and this law is therefore to be observed by all Americans.” (Spalding, 1855).

The New England Farmer article continued with an additional anthropological detail:

On the top of the tombstone in Japan, a small cavity or trough is chiseled, which the priests every morning fill with fresh water for the use of the birds. Enlightened Americans should imitate these customs of the barbarous Japanese, if not by providing fresh water for the feathered warblers, at least by protecting them from the worthless louts who so ruthlessly destroy them….(p. 291)

When it came to the treatment of birds, Americans were the “barbarians.” Note that this was before birdbaths, or even bird feeders, were a common feature of American gardens. Americans, the article suggested, should follow the Japanese in actively accommodating the needs of birds, and offered a vision of what could be.

The article concluded by reiterating the connection between America’s agricultural future and bird protection, including this passage, typical of the accounting style of economic ornithology:

The thrushes, blue-birds, jays and crows prey upon butterflies, grasshoppers, crickets, locusts, and the larger beetles. A single family of jays will consume 20,000 of these in a season of three months. (p. 292).

Portions of the New England Farmer article were cited and republished many times in the decades to follow, which is appropriate, given that the New England Farmer article itself lifted its passages entirely from other sources, including a long two-part 1855 essay in Hovey’s Magazine of Horticulture, Botany, and all Useful Discoveries and Improvement by ardent bird supporter Wilson Flagg (of Beverly, Massachusetts). (Flagg, 1855, January). The Japan section had been appearing in publications as early as 1855, in articles circulating under the title, “How they regard the birds in Japan.” Some articles bolstered the cultural angle by including additional examples of bird protection in other nations (see for example, Bement, 1858).

While the tombstone birdbath seems to have been a cross-cultural misperception (the water was for probably for purification, not birds), the article is not the only account of Tokugawa era Japan as a model for human-bird relations. Oliver L. Austin, Jr. and Nagahisa Kuroda, in their 1953 monograph on the birds of Japan, for example, state, “the close of the Tokugawa period [1603–1868] found the human population of Japan in as successful and happy a balance with wildlife as has ever been attained by mankind.” (p 303). Buddhism discouraged the eating of meat, firearms were largely unavailable, and falconry-oriented feudal lords controlled game preserves (“otomeba” — places to be kept unchanged) where they had exclusive hunting rights. (Austin & Kuroda, 1953).

The Austin & Kuroda story, however, continues with a dismaying twist. The Perry expedition that “opened” Japan was effectively the end of this golden age for birds and humans:

The impact of the Meiji restoration on all wild birds and animals was immediate and disastrous. The abolition of feudal controls, the abandonment of large sanctuary areas, the introduction and wide distribution of modern firearms among the peasantry, the industrialization of the country and the phenomenal increase of the already overcrowded human population were all contributory factors. The subjugation of orthodox Buddhism to Shintoism was also of prime importance. With religious controls released, the people learned to eat meat and developed such a liking for it that hunting became profitable … (p. 303)

Japan’s relationship with birds in the second half of the 19th century, thus became more like America’s relationship with birds, defined by habitat loss, immoderate sport-shooting, unsustainable marketing hunting, and the plume trade. The crested ibis, so common during the Tokugawa era that Temminck gave it the Latin name, Nipponia nippon, was rapidly extirpated from most of the country, in part to supply women across the world with feathers for their hats.

Indeed it was the plume trade, which decimated egret populations for nuptial feathers and destroyed a wide variety of birds, including hummingbirds, orioles, and terns, to be fastened onto hats, that finally mobilized Americans for effective legislative action. In 1896 Harriet Hemenway created the first enduring Audubon Society in Massachusetts and soon there were enough states with like organizations to support a national movement. The National Association of Audubon Societies promoted a model bird protection law, circulated material to educate school children and American citizens about birds, and demonstrated how hunting with a camera could be more satisfying that hunting to kill. American children participated in annual “Bird Day” programs and bird watching and feeding grew in popularity. Ultimately, though, it was the old arguments from the agricultural periodicals — that birds were important controls on harmful insects — that convinced American legislators of the need for blanket national protection for non-game migratory birds in the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918. (Dorsey, 1998).

Meanwhile, in Japan, laws had been passed to protect birds during the late 1800s and early years of the 20th century. Prince Nobuske Takatukasa, in his 1941 tourist library guide on Japanese birds, for example, claiming that bird protection in Japan dated back to the reign of Emperor Kammu (781–805), listed 19 categories of birds, including cranes, cormorants, and egrets, that were specifically protected under an 1919 law as “national monuments.” (Takatukasa, 1941).

When US occupation forces arrived after World War II, however, Japan was not a friendly place for wild birds. During the war laws had gone unenforced, forest habitats had been decimated for charcoal production, and protein deficiencies had driven people, particularly in rural areas, to include wild birds in their diet. Among the occupation staff was an ornithologist named Oliver Austin Jr., (co-author of the monograph cited previously). Austin, who had received his PhD from Harvard University (its first ever in Ornithology) and summered with his family in Cape Cod, served as head of the Wildlife Branch of the Natural Resources Section of the Occupation under Douglas MacArthur. Recognizing the dismal situation for birds in Japan, he was quick to use his authority to create new legal protections for wild birds and establish wildlife sanctuaries. In order to educate school children and the general public about birds, he established “Bird Week,” still recognized in Japan to this day (while U.S. “Bird Days” are a distant memory). (Kobayashi, 2007).

It was Austin who stepped in when US officers (paralleling the shooting parties of Perry’s expedition a century earlier) were discovered decimating local game bird populations. (He appealed directly to MacArthur, who intervened and put a stop to the practice) (University of Florida, 1978). Also on Austin’s radar was the market hunting of migratory songbirds for consumption at “yakitori” restaurants, which he condemned as being contrary to international standards. When the Occupation ended, this would be a main focus of bird protection efforts in Japan. (Kobayashi, 2007).

Bird catching for food had been a highly local, limited practice in the central mountains of Japan even during the Tokugawa period, but during the 20th century and especially the years after the Occupation had developed into something more industrial in scale. Bird catchers would hang large mist nests along fall migration corridors and lure birds into the nets via the use of live decoys. While a variety of songbirds were collected, grilled and served up to customers in small pop-up mountain eateries, the target bird was the dusky thrush, or tsugumi, which would pass through the mountains in huge flocks on the way south from summer breeding areas in Siberia. Bird catching was technically illegal under the early 20th century Japanese bird protection laws as well as the laws introduced by the Occupation but it was tolerated (even promoted) by local officials and allowed to develop as a black market. Indeed, it became a significant part of the regional economy, with regular shipments of frozen songbirds sent to urban restaurants. When the Occupation left, local legislators, arguing that the laws had been forced upon the Japanese and that these laws ran counter to Japanese cultural traditions, applied to have the legal restrictions against bird catching removed. (Kobayashi, 2007).

The charge of “cultural imperialism” as a means of deflecting pressure with respect to wildlife protection will be familiar to anyone following international whaling controversies. Bird catching does have a cultural dimension. Early 20th century bird protection efforts in the US (frequently nativist and sometimes openly racist) often targeted Italian immigrants who would set up mist nets to catch songbirds for food. Bird hunters in Malta and Cyprus continue to openly violate the wildlife protection laws of the European Union today. And the French taste for the ortolan bunting persists (Cioc, 2009). But external pressure often stiffens internal resolve. It may take cultural insiders to make effective changes.

This charge was taken up by the Wild Bird Society of Japan, which had been founded by the prolific nature writer, poet, and Buddhist monk, Godo Nakanishi in 1934. Godo, who died in 1984, is revered, sometimes even mythologized today. He made a special point of discouraging the caging of wild birds (a common practice in East Asia). Indeed, even in Austin & Kuroda’s Tokugawa era “golden age” wild birds were commonly caught and marketed as household pets. Godo is credited with coining the word (“yachou”) that is now generally used in Japan to mean “wild bird,” as a way of promoting the pleasures of encountering birds in a more distant natural state. Godo and the Wild Bird Society strove to popularize bird watching and to promote conservation education, and they were quick to mobilize when wild birds were threatened. In the late 1940s and 1950s they took up the cause of the tsugumi. (Kobayashi, 2007)

Wild Bird Society efforts against the legalization of bird catching included: the assembly of allies, including a variety of conservation, anti-cruelty, and religious organizations; the vigorous scouting and reporting of illegal bird catching operations, and a tireless media campaign. Indeed, according to Godo’s biographer, Teruyuki Kobayashi, Godo’s arguments, presented in newspaper articles and pamphlets, were ultimately what won the day. Using questionable science, pro-bird catching advocates had tried to get the tsugumi reclassified as agriculturally harmful and therefore unprotected. Godo’s counterargument was, according to Kobayashi, his masterpiece:

During its six month stay in Japan, a single tsugumi will consume about 60,000 harmful insects. The Ministry of Agriculture and Commerce estimates that on average, between the years 1931 and 1941, the yearly catch of tsugumi was 3,200,000. The number of harmful insects that 3,200,000 birds could eat comes to 200 billion. Assuming a single human can destroy 4000 harmful insects in a day, destroying 200 billion insects in a six-month period would require employing 50 million workers. Considering the fact alone that tsugumi are able to destroy these insects without costing a single cent, to label them harmful birds is to completely miss the mark. (My translation. Kobayashi, 2007, p. 76)

The argument from economic ornithology was ultimately as successful in Japan as it had been in the US. Ultimately, while bird catching remains a local problem in the mountains, The Wild Bird Society of Japan and its allies were able to maintain the tsugumi’s protections, motivate the enforcement of the anti-bird catching law, and crucially, regulate the sale of mist nets. (Kobayashi, 2007)

Oliver Austin Jr, incidentally, considered Japanese mist nets to be great improvements over the Italian mist nets he had been using at his father’s bird banding station in Cape Cod and had them imported. (University of Florida, 1978). The Japanese version became the standard mist net used in bird research across the US. After his father died, the Oliver Austin Sr. property was donated to Mass Audubon, where it now comprises much of the Wellfleet Bay Wildlife Sanctuary.

In conclusion, bird protection ideas, stories, practices, legal frameworks, media use, argument styles, and, finally, physical artifacts moved between the US and Japan in the 19th and 20th centuries, variously transformed, misinterpreted, adapted, repeated, and/or repurposed. This movement raises a variety of questions. Does the fact that utilitarian, quantified arguments from economic ornithology ultimately proved most effective in both US and Japan mean that scientific approaches cross cultural and national boundaries more easily than other kinds of arguments? The “usefulness” of insectivorous birds is no longer a chief motivation for protection in either country (though approaches focused on “natural services” continue to bring this benefit to light). What should we make of the depiction of Tokugawa Japan as a golden age for birds and humans; is this just a simplified “East-West” comparison? Was Godo’s “let wild birds be wild” philosophy rooted in a Western conception of “Nature” or a more Buddhist ontology (he would argue the latter)? These are some of the questions that will drive the further development of this paper.

REFERENCES

Austin, Jr, O.L. & Kuroda, N. (1953, October). The Birds of Japan: Their Status and Distribution, Bulletin of the Museum of Comparative Zoology at Harvard College, 109 (4).

Bement, C. N. (1858). Birds both useful and injurious to the farmer and horticulturalist, Rural Annual and Horticultural Directory for the Year 1858. Rochester, NY: Joseph Harris. P 49.

Cioc, Mark (2009) The Game of Conservation: International treaties to protect the world’s migratory animals. Athens, OH: Ohio University Press.

Dorsey, Kurkpatrick (1998). The dawn of conservation diplomacy. Seattle, WA: University of Washington Press.

Flagg, W. (1855, January). Plea for the Birds — Their utility to agriculture. Magazine of Horticulture, Botany, and all Useful Discoveries and Improvement. 22(1) P. 11.

Kobayashi, T. (2007). No no tori wa no ni. Tokyo: Shinchosa.

Oehlkers, P. (2015). Winged Wardens. http://www.wingedwardens.blogspot.com Last accessed 2/9/2016.

Spalding, J. W. (1855). The Japan Expedition. Redfield.

Spare the Birds. (1857, June) New England Farmer. p. 219–220.

Takatukasa, N. (1941). Japanese Birds. Tourist Library 35. Japanese Government Railways: Board of Tourist Industry.

University of Florida (1978). Oliver Austin. Oral History Project. http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00005958/00001. Accessed 2/9/2016.