March 13, 2008
When bad photos happen to good birds
One of the things that we birders obsess and compulse about is finding rare stuff. Rare stuff wouldn’t be rare if it was easy to find, so the possibility of mistaking something common as something rare is actually more likely than finding something genuinely rare. That being said, rare stuff happens.
There is a difference between seeing a bird and convincing others that you saw it. The traditional, old-school way to convince others you saw something was to get out your shotgun and collect it. Bringing the corpse of your claimed sighting to would-be skeptics is pretty much fool proof. It’s also now illegal in most states. And of course, shooting the rarities you find pretty much ruins the chances for others of listing what you’ve seen.
The camera has replaced the shotgun as the mechanism of choice for documenting rare birds, the assumption being that a photograph is just as good as a body. There are LOTS of reasons why this is faulty reasoning not the least of which is that photos can be faked. But let’s focus on the sincere efforts to document rare finds by impeccably honest people who quite probably saw something rare. Sometimes the photo can do more harm to one’s case than a well written description with drawings and arrows. Sometimes the lack of convincing detail in a photo can even trump a well written description and get the record thrown out….
My first experience with this was a bird I saw way back in 1988. I thought then and still believe now that this was a LITTLE STINT. I wrote a three page description describing the bird and my rationale for calling it a Little Stint. The records committee felt the photos were ambiguous and chose not to accept the record. I agree that the photos are ambiguous, but should ambiguous photos trump my description?
As birders become increasingly dependent on photo-documentation, they become increasingly unlikely to write any kind of written description or worse yet, write a description based on their photographs when they get home. A photograph is a wonderful thing and digital cameras have given us a kind of instant access to photos that has led some people to think that closely observing a bird and writing a description is no longer necessary. Rumor has it that some records committees won't accept reports unless there's a specimen or photograph now. Writing down what we're seeing has become passé. And this is too bad.
But here's the thing. Sometimes it is simply not possible to get a photo and sometimes, no matter how hard we try the photos we do get are ambiguous. An excellent case in point was a recently reported SLATY-BACKED GULL in Washington. The bird was seen by several very experienced observers and nobody really doubted the ID, but the first photos to be posted were, to put it politely, ambiguous. The bird stuck around and many much more diagnostic photos were obtained. But what if the bird hadn't stayed around? What if that blurry image taken from way too far away was the only photo available?
Once the bird leaves, the record becomes the bird and there is a difference between what I believe, having seen the bird, and what others believe based on the documentation I present. The written and photo-documentary evidence we provide is the modern equivalent to the dead stuff ornithologists used to show off. Sometimes it's hard to make the distinction between what we believe we saw and what we've provided as proofs to others. We post our pictures and others pick them apart. It seems personal, but it really isn't most of the time.
It's nearly impossible for a photograph to contain as much information as the actual bird. The more subtle the ID, the more information required. Little Stints and Slaty-backed Gulls are subtle ID's. We shouldn't be surprised when a photo comes up wanting, that the photo fails to represent the bird the way we believe we saw it. It also shouldn't be surprising when others express their doubts based on the what we give them to look at. That is, after all, all they have to go on. That's why all those old school shotgun biologists also filled notebooks full of notes. And it's why we should all be diligent note-takers, too. A picture can be worth a thousand words, but only if it's in focus, properly exposed and the bird is posed exactly the way it needs to be.
I counted that Little Stint I saw in 1988, because I know what I saw. Looking at the photos now, almost 20 years later, I still see a Little Stint, but I can also see how others might not and I hold no grudges.
Posted by mbalame at March 13, 2008 1:22 PM