When that great monument to our science one of the great temples of biodiversity was built, a species typical of each biogeographic region was used to adorn the gateposts. The choice for the nearctic was the passenger pigeon, the last individual of which died in the Cincinnati Zoo in 1914 and which, stuffed and mounted, is on display in yet another temple to biodiversity, namely the National Museum of Natural History in Washington. I believe the question before us as scientists is whether we will be known for similar oblivion and insouciance or whether we will rise to the occasion, as scientists and citizens. The latter part of this century is surely the finest moment ever for natural scientists. Transportation can take us to most parts of the globe within 24 hours, and even remote areas are accessible with relative ease.
Money is available for research, even if less than needed.
And much of biodiversity is still there for study, even if going rapidly as anyone in this room knows from previous experience. Even if skeptics like Julian Simon choose to disbelieve the biodiversity crisis, never has there been more unanimity among expert biologists on an issue. There is a large and accelerating extinction problem. The splendid array of the microbial world has revealed variety undreamt of. We have learned of a whole new class of primary producers in the oceans.