Many books in the Collins New Naturalist Library are underpinned by ecology, but the latest addition to the series is the first to be devoted to the science in its own right. In Ecology and Natural History, David Wilkinson provides an insightful and highly accessible account of the core ecological concepts and brings them to life with examples of classic research sites and studies from across Britain.
David Wilkinson is Visiting Professor in Ecology in the School of Life Sciences at the University of Lincoln and Honorary Research Fellow in Archaeology at the University of Nottingham. He has wide interests in ecology, and in recent years has written articles for British Wildlife on such varied subjects as scent-based mimicry in wild plants and animals, lichens as composite organisms, and autumnal colour change in leaves. Here, David has kindly answered some of our questions about his new book.
Ecology is a complex discipline, encompassing all the amazingly diverse ways in which living organisms interact with one another and with their environment. What drew you to ecology as a topic for your book, and how did you set about tackling such a wide-ranging subject?
As you say ‘Ecology is a complex discipline, encompassing all the amazingly diverse way living organisms interact with one another and their environment’ – with a topic as grand as this why would you write a book on anything else! Both of my previous books (for Oxford University Press) had been on aspects of ecology, but written for a more technical audience. Having walked away from my academic day job I now felt I had the time to try and write something more accessible, but still scientifically accurate. Most of the most pressing global problems are related to ecology, so there is an obvious need for as many people as possible to have some idea of basic ecological concepts. The approach grew out of over a quarter of a century’s experience of introducing the basic ideas of ecology to undergraduates.
Chapters are split by topic but also by location, each one beginning with a scene from the site of a classic ecological study. What inspired this approach?
It seemed the obvious approach, as although this is a book on ideas I wanted to embed them in what you see in the field. The first chapter I wrote was chapter 2 which made a lot of use of Cwm Idwal in Snowdonia. Jonathan 
Silvertown (plant ecologist and science writer) was the member of the New Naturalist editorial board who oversaw my book. He liked the site based approach and encouraged me to use it throughout the book (his own popular book on plant diversity ‘Demons in Eden’ had used a similar approach). In many ways the approach grew out of my tendency to ‘tell stories’ when talking about ecology to beginning undergraduates. So in part the book is my lecturing style turned to prose.
Were you familiar with your chosen locations before embarking on writing, or did you make trips as part of your research for the book?
Most of the locations I used to open chapters were sites I was familiar with, but the two exceptions were Downe Bank and the Isle of Cumbrae – writing the book provided a great excuse to visit both of these. Most of the sites were visited on one or more occasion during the three years I worked on the book – the exceptions were Selborne (which I had visited a couple of years before I started writing) and Rothamsted, where the description is based on a visit in 2005. A highlight of the writing was a week’s fieldwork in the Cairngorms, taking photos for the book.
Smaller life forms such as bacteria and protists feature prominently in various chapters. How important are these organisms in helping us to understand the structure and function of ecosystems?
A key theme of the book is the importance of such organisms. Considered from a genetic or biochemical perspective most of the diversity of life on Earth is microbial. Considered from a geological perspective for most of the history of life on Earth all ecology was microbial ecology, as microbes were the only life forms around. In ecological systems today they are still crucial. Many people vaguely realise that they have some importance in decomposition and nutrient cycling, but also much of photosynthesis (and related oxygen production) is by microbes rather than larger plants. Historically microbes have been hard to study in the wild, being by definition too small to see without microscopy. However, molecular methods (using DNA or RNA) are making things much more tractable, and now microbial ecology looks poised to be one of the big growth areas in ecological research.
You were able to draw on a number of examples of high-profile and long-running experiments from British sites. How influential have studies in Britain been for ecology as a science?
Ecology has a long history but really starts to take off as a science in the early 20th century. It started to develop earlier in Britain than in most countries, indeed the British Ecological Society (founded in 1913) was the first such society anywhere in the world. Because of this several of the key early studies that helped develop the basic ideas of ecology took place in Britain.
A number of the experiments described were initiated in the early/mid-20th century. Has there been a decrease in the creation of new long-term studies in recent decades and, if so, what are the implications for conservation and ecology?
Because of the relatively early start of academic ecology in Britain the country has a number of very long running ecology field experiments. For example two I write about in the book are The Park Grass experiment at Rothamsted (started 1856) and the Godwin Plots at Wicken Fen (started 1927). Neither was started with the idea that they would run for 100 years or more – there is a large element of chance in their long-term survival. However, once an experiment has been running for a long time then people start to realise that such long runs of data are important and try and find the resources to continue them. More recent examples include (amongst many) the Buxton Climate Change Impacts Lab (which commenced in 1993 on limestone grassland in the Peak District) and grazing experiments set up in the Ainsdale Dunes system in Merseyside (started in 1974). But to be really long term requires luck and/or a succession of people determined enough to keep them going against the odds.
Finally, could you tell us about your plans for the future? Do you have any more writing projects lined up?
I have quite a list of books that would be interesting to write. The one I am most keen to do next is envisaged as a series of linked essays on ecology, evolution and the environment, as I would like to do an accessible general book that uses examples from around the world (rather than having the British focus of a New Naturalist). While I have an outline of the idea it’s in very early stages and I haven’t yet found a publisher for it. More long term another book that requires the extensive fieldwork that went in to the New Naturalist would provide a good excuse to not get trapped at a computer. I also have several ongoing ecological research projects.
Ecology and Natural History
By: David M. Wilkinson
Hardback | Published June 2021 | £52.99 £64.99Paperback | Published June 2021 | £27.99
£34.99
All prices correct at the time of this article’s publication.
Much of the information comes from my readings or lectures. However, since I wanted to portray the ecological and economic importance of forest insects as broadly as possible, I still had to review a lot of published material. Above all, I wanted to support quantitative data with accurate citations. Owing to the Internet, such research is easier today than it was 20 years ago… Fortunately, I also had my own photographs on almost all topics.
Professionally, I am mainly concerned with wood-dwelling insects. I am especially interested in the bark beetles, and their natural enemies as well as the intensive interactions with their host trees. Bark beetles are known to be pests, but they are also pioneers in the decay of wood. I also deal with the wood-dwelling longhorn beetles and jewel beetles, which often lend themselves to photography because of their size and beauty. For decades I have dealt with the development of their biodiversity after disruptive events such as storms or fire. The social red wood ants or the galling insects also fascinate me with their ingenious way of life.
There are two main causes for the decline in much of the forest insect fauna. The intensive use of wood in the past centuries has led to the fact that the forest area in Europe has decreased significantly over a long period of time, the trees no longer reach their natural age phase, and there were almost no dead trees that could slowly rot. In the case of many wood-dwelling insects that are dependent on so-called habitat trees or develop in decayed, thick tree trunks, this has led to a severe threat to their biodiversity. In recent decades, the forest area has increased again and in many countries the preservation of old trees and dead wood is being promoted. However, the impact is still modest.
The main problem when photographing small objects is always to be able to focus as much as possible on them. This requires a small aperture and therefore a lot of light. I photograph everything “hand-held” and therefore the shutter speed should be short. For these reasons, I almost always use a ring flash with separately controllable halves and 100 mm macro lens with my SLR camera. Nonetheless, even cameras with a small sensor (even mobile phones!) can nowadays produce surprisingly good images of larger, less volatile insects.
No! I wasn’t even thinking about publishing – the journal was a personal project. I realised very early on that when I draw and document things, I remember them. I remember things like Rumex Obtusifolius (the Latin name for Doc Leaf) – it’s been a wonderful learning tool and almost everything I’ve learned about nature, I’ve learned entirely on my own through observation, supported by research.
Dr Alice Bell is a journalist and historian of science. Alice was a lecturer in science communication at Imperial College for several years, and was also a key contributor to the International Council for Science’s blog on climate policy in the run-up to the UN Paris talks. Alice has kindly agreed to answer some of our questions below.
In his latest book, 
shapes, forms and colours of the birds. They were so very different to the birds I was used to seeing in the Somerset countryside around our home. After that, every now and again I’d see footage of hummingbirds on wildlife documentaries, and began to appreciate further just how remarkable they were – what Tim Dee described as ‘strange birds: not quite birds or somehow more than birds, birds 2.0, perhaps’.
There were plenty of other moments that I’ll hold in my heart, and they don’t all involve the iconic, rare species. One such was watching Golden-tailed Sapphires, a hummingbird that looks as if it’s been dipped in rainbows, feeding in a clearing in the immediate aftermath of a heavy rain shower. As the sun broke through the dripping vegetation and steaming air we were suddenly surrounded by myriad small rainbows through which the birds were flying. That moment was ephemeral, over almost as soon as it began, but it’s etched in my memory forever. 
I found myself asking myself that very question as my journey into their world unfolded… Hummingbirds certainly seem to touch something deep inside us. They featured in the mythology of the Aztecs; inspired the most dramatic of all of the immense geoglyphs carved into the desert floor by the Nazca; appear in renowned art and literature; and, to this day, are singled out for particular love by those whose gardens they frequent, people who would not necessarily identify themselves as birders.
Inevitably there were some logistical challenges to contend with, not least having to reacquaint myself with horse-riding after a decades-long and deliberate avoidance of it! There were a couple of close encounters with large predators that were, in hindsight, more alarming than they felt at the time – as a naturalist, I was thrilled to get (very) close views of a puma… But perhaps the most challenging moment of all was landing in Bolivia at the very moment the country was taking to the streets to protest the outcome of a recent presidential election. There was an incident at a roadblock manned by armed men that was genuinely scary, with an outcome that hung in the balance for a terrifying instant, and could easily have ended badly.
I sometimes think there’s almost too much optimism expressed when talking about conservation challenges anywhere in the world – a narrative that suggests “if we only care enough, the [insert iconic species name here] can be saved”. And to a degree, that’s good – we’ve got to have hope, as the alternative is too dreadful to countenance – but given our impact to date, and in an uncertain future where the effects of climate change are still unfolding and will continue for many decades to come, to name just the biggest of the mounting pressures on the natural world, I’m not sure that I do feel terribly optimistic, least of all for those hummingbird species that have very localized populations, or depend upon very specific habitats. They’re undeniably vulnerable. But like Fox Mulder, 
As recently featured on 
photographing and surveying insects. I learned about the insects, watched them and counted the sheer number of species, and realised that no one else had actually surveyed a small urban park extensively. The book came about as I wanted to show people what was living in the bushes and to put Peckham on the entomological map!
and usually open 24 hours – but there is no reason why we can’t include habitats for our wildlife. A simple solution would be to leave areas un-mowed to grow wild. In the parks of my local area in London, large swathes of grasses and flowers have been left to mature and people have been really receptive to it. I think we are finally moving away from the Victorian ideal of neat and tidy!
For nearly thirty years now I have been going to stay in a small house at the head of a bay on the west coast of Scotland. It is somewhere my wife’s family have been going for generations and now our children and grandchildren love it too. It has everything you might long for from a place like that: cliffs, woods, waterfalls, a dark beach made of basalt sands, a lighthouse, a ruined castle, stories, beauty, birds, fish; but one thing it did not have because of the geology, was a rockpool. For years I have dreamed of making one – a place of stillness set in the tide, and this book is the story of how I made three of them in different parts of the bay; one dug in with a pickaxe; one made by damming a narrow exit to the sea from a hollow so that the dam held the pool behind it; and one by making a circular wall low down in the intertidal.
And so that provided the model – see what was there and look carefully at it. Of course, books like mine are entirely parasitic on the work of many generations of biologists and that too turned out to be the pattern. Watch the sand hoppers and then read about them. Read about them and see how much of what I read I could find on the shore. With prawns, winkles, shore crabs, anemones, limpets, sea-stars, urchins and barnacles, I simply oscillated between the pools and my books: what was there? What had people discovered about them? How did they interact? What were the principles governing their presence or absence? And with all of that came the repeated and slightly sobering realisation that unless I knew to look for something it was very difficult to see it was there. Mysteriously, we are often blind to what is in front of our eyes.
stages, can recognise the movements and timings of the tides. That sea anemones can identify other sea anemones that are not their relations and effectively destroy them. That prawns have an imagination – that might sound like too much, but it has been shown that they can remember past pain and project it into present and future anxieties. Anxiety is different from fear; it is a fear of what might be there. In other words a prawn can think beyond its present reality.
garden whose walls are dissolved twice a day, an enclosure that becomes part of the general world with every high tide. That ambiguity is what entranced me, the sense of its being a micro-ocean, a micro-arcadia, a micro-laboratory in which all kinds of intimacies and precision in natural beings can be witnessed an inch beneath your nose.
The 
And most importantly – just go out there and watch mammals. I may be biased, but for me there is nothing better than being out in the countryside early on a spring morning watching the hares chasing around and knocking seven bells out of each other. You might like to stay up late watching badgers or bats, or enjoy the crazy antics of a squirrel on a bird feeder. It’s important that we engage with nature and encourage our children to do the same. If we don’t see and understand wildlife, we won’t fight for it. And, trust me, we need to fight for it.