The Birds That Audubon Missed: Discovery and Desire in the American Wilderness

by Kenn Kaufman

Renowned naturalist Kenn Kaufman examines the scientific discoveries of John James Audubon and his artistic and ornithologist peers to show how what they saw (and what they missed) reflects how we perceive and understand the natural world. Raging ambition. Towering egos. Competition under a veneer of courtesy. Heroic effort combined with plagiarism, theft, exaggeration, and fraud. This was the state of bird study in eastern North America during the early 1800s, as a handful of intrepid men raced to find the last few birds that were still unknown to science. The most famous name in the bird world was John James Audubon, who painted spectacular portraits of birds. But although his images were beautiful, creating great art was not his main goal. Instead, he aimed to illustrate (and write about) as many different species as possible, obsessed with trying to outdo his rival, Alexander Wilson. George Ord, a fan and protégé of Wilson, held a bitter grudge against Audubon for years, claiming he had faked much of his information and his scientific claims. A few of Audubon’s birds were pure fiction, and some of his writing was invented or plagiarized. Other naturalists of the era, including Charles Bonaparte (nephew of Napoleon), John Townsend, and Thomas Nuttall, also became entangled in the scientific derby, as they stumbled toward an understanding of the natural world—an endeavor that continues to this day. Despite this intense competition, a few species—including some surprisingly common songbirds, hawks, sandpipers, and more—managed to evade discovery for years. Here, renowned bird expert and artist Kenn Kaufman explores this period in history from a new angle, by considering the birds these people discovered and, especially, the ones they missed. Kaufman has created portraits of the birds that Audubon never saw, attempting to paint them in that artist’s own stunning style, as a way of examining the history of natural sciences and nature art. He shows how our understanding of birds continues to gain clarity, even as some mysteries persist from Audubon’s time until ours.

Genres: Birds, Nonfiction, Nature, Science, History, Animals, Natural History

392 pages, Kindle Edition

First published May 7, 2024

About the author

Kenn Kaufman (born 1954) is an American author, artist, naturalist, and conservationist, with a particular focus on birds.

Born in South Bend, Indiana, Kaufman started birding at the age of six. When he was nine, his family moved to Wichita, Kansas, where his fascination with birds intensified. At age sixteen, inspired by birding pioneers such as Roger Tory Peterson, he dropped out of high school and spent several years hitchhiking around North America in pursuit of birds. This adventure eventually was recorded in a memoir, Kingbird Highway.

Thereafter he spent several years as a professional leader of nature tours, taking groups of birders to all seven continents. In 1984 he began working as an editor and consultant on birds for the National Audubon Society, a connection that continues to this day. Gradually he transitioned from tour leading to a full-time focus on writing, editing, and illustrating, always on nature subjects. His first major book, the Peterson Field Guide to Advanced Birding, was published in 1990. This was followed by another dozen books, including seven titles in his own series of Kaufman Field Guides. His next book, The Birds That Audubon Missed, is scheduled for publication in May 2024.

Currently, Kaufman devotes most of his time to writing books and painting bird portraits. His paintings have been juried into several prestigious exhibitions. He is a Fellow of the American Ornithological Society, a recipient of the Eisenmann Medal from the Linnaean Society of New York, and the only person to have received the American Birding Association's lifetime achievement award twice.

Kaufman resides in Oak Harbor, Ohio with his wife, Kimberly Kaufman, also a dedicated naturalist. Kenn and Kimberly mostly work on separate projects, but they collaborate as the "birding experts" for the popular Birds & Blooms Magazine.

Reviews

[Rob Neyer · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you're a birder, any new book written by Kenn Kaufman is cause for great celebration, as there's not a living American who matches Kaufman's combination of journalistic abilities, artistic sense, and birding experiences and knowledge. The story he tells here is complicated, but Kaufman somehow weaves all the strands together to form a wonderfully satisfying whole.

[Alex]

My first read about early American ornithology. Engrossing and enlightening. I find myself more impressed that early naturalists got anything right than I am surprised they missed species or categorized incorrectly. I also find myself way less interested in who “found” what when, when much of this knowledge existed in native communities long before the settlers arrived. Another book that makes one close their eyes and picture how grand the skies must have been back then. A small, heartbreaking gift this imagination is. I come away so grateful to have embarked on my own journey of discovery, as this life is. And also relieved to know I’m not the only one who struggles to distinguish the flycatchers, the shorebirds, the 24 subspecies of song sparrow. Guess I’ll just have to go out and bird some more, for practice. And science!

[Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an interesting perspective on Audubon that I enjoyed, but I think only a narrow band of people interested in birding AND history AND art would be interested. The title is a an accurate description of the book, while at the same time it places Audubon in the history of American ornithology and applies a modern lens.

Audubon was after Linnaeas (1758) and before Darwin (1859) so he and other ornithologists (Alexander Wilson, Bonaparte (nephew of Napoleon!), Nuttall, Townsend, Baird, Harris etc.) were trying to identify new species of birds within a rough taxonomic framework (families were not yet in place) but without the insight of evolution. They also lacked binoculars and photography. Lots of similar birds were thought of being the same species, different forms of the same species (juveniles versus adults or males versus females) were identified as different species, while others that were abundant were missed. Also, apparently Audubon had a tendency to fraud, and may have made up species to get people to subscribe to his "Birds of America". So many of the species that Audubon painted are no longer species. Nonetheless, his images were striking, and they brought great attention to the biodiversity of America.

Another interesting point in the book is how many bird species were named after people, often an ornithologist. The names were evident in both the scientific name (genus and species) and the common name. However, the American Ornithological Society recently decided to replace all eponymous common names with more descriptive names of what the bird looks like (name the bird after the bird). This is because some of those people have blemished histories. This has happened in other fields, such as herpetology.

In sum, I am giving this 5 stars because it is such an original take on the subject and weaves a lot of threads together. The author is a great writer. The book has flaws (some bits in the middle are boring even for a birder), the the strengths make up for it.

[Molly Singer · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a well written and interesting book. I loved the way that historical discovery was connected to present day, inviting readers to experience wonder in the natural world much in the same way that explorers did, and also in new ways. I appreciate how the author distinguished "discovery" in America and the scientific goal of classification of species from the immense knowledge that indigenous people already possessed, whose goal for knowledge and understanding was not through a lens of classification. I appreciated the nuance, empathy, and curiosity the author brought to controversial topics like eponymous naming of birds and the legacy of historical figures like Audubon. Rather than avoiding these topics, he encouraged the reader to engage thoughtfully and remember historical context, while still laying bare and not excusing the sexism and racism exhibited by most scientists of the time. I was particularly amused when he pointed out the contradictory logic of modern birders who take issue in the name of animal cruelty with Audubon's extensive killing of birds for specimens (standard for ornithologists of the era with no binoculars) but no issue with his owning and selling of slaves, excusing the latter as "of the time".

This book made me think a lot and I enjoyed it much more than I expected to. Natural discovery and science is incredible. There was so much to digest in this book, and it is JUST about birds JUST in North America (mostly in the east, for that matter) JUST during the late 1700s to mid 1800s. It makes the scope of discovery in all the world across other disciplines feel unreal.

[Talia · Rating 4 out of 5]

I can’t in good conscience recommend this to a non-bird and non-art person. This book simply intersects in interest-space just for me, a bird-person for whom John James Audobon is fairly significant (not to be confused with John James Kerr, who for me, is also fairly significant).

That being said, 50% of this book was thrilling; conspiracy theories about Marie Antoinette’s missing son (“the Lost Dauphin”), race relations in the American South the 1800s, scientific wars, dubious artistic and scientific integrity, all that juicy stuff you would hope for when learning about a controversial historical figure.

The other 50% may only appeal to the true bird-watchers, bird nerds, or anyone who gets excited about people in history disagreeing about science, or whether this bird is that bird. Some of it was a bit dry even for me, but I happily pushed through those parts for the fun remainder. Birds of a feather we rock together.

[Erin · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was my first chosen non-fiction read, ever! Quite interesting discussion on birding in the 19th century. Audubon is such a famous name, yet I didn't know anything about his scientific fraud or shaky ethical foundation until now. So, safe to say I learned a lot.

My favorite parts of the book were the "Channeling the Illustrator" chapters. I also enjoyed hearing about the author's personal experience birding - he left his home as a teenager to bird. Cool! My favorite chapter was about the Bird of Washington.

I didn't really enjoy the pacing of the book. The order of events, sure, but the pacing was a bit slow, making the read a increasingly boring as I progressed through the book. Of course, you can't really rush history, but I just found myself losing interest in reading... oops.

Overall, incredibly well-researched and very interesting discourse and info. Amazing art, too. Solid read.

[Will Laurie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Jack of all trades? No. Kenn Kaufman is a master of all trades it would seem. Expert birder, expert illustrator, and a real master of prose!!!

This book was 10/10 phenomenal. It has a running for best of the year for me. Learning so much about the “discovery” (as far as colonist Europeans go) of the birds that I see each and every day was really thrilling. The acknowledgment of these ornithologists’ wrongdoings are well described as well, with no punches pulled. The honesty is refreshing. Yes, these men SUCKED. A LOT. They are not to be idolized and this book makes that clear

I can’t decide if Kenn is someone I’d want to go birding with or grab a beer with. Why not both? I’d think I’d love both.

God this book is so good. All birders should read this book. All humans should read this book. Hell all birds should read this book

[Marjorie Elwood · Rating 3 out of 5]

Although a little niche, this was an interesting look at the birds that Audubon didn’t find during his journeys to paint every bird in North America (even though they were there). It flows well between chapters on the history of birding to chapters on painting birds; his paintings of birds are really lovely. I had my trusty Sibley’s at my side much of the time, looking up the species he mentioned. I very much appreciated his philosophy that each of us discover things that are new to us, whether or not they’ve already been officially discovered.

[Tyler Johnson · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 rounded up! I really enjoyed the premise of the book, examining Audubon as a person and scientist and looking at how he often missed discoveries that were right under his nose, Kaufman then explained how he missed these discoveries and what it may have looked like if Audubon had painted said species. There's a lot to keep track of, so be prepared to reread as needed.

[Bethanyanne · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’ve enjoyed this book so much. Not only for the naturalist side of ornithology but also the history. Who knew Audubon once was speculated to be the lost prince of France (and interesting Anastasia-esc) subplot. Or that pretty much every bird was called a flycatcher and later had to be altered.

[Layton Register · Rating 1 out of 5]

I wish I could say something nice about this book other than it helps Kenn Kaufman and others like him, e.g. Roger Tory Peterson, look smarter and more righteous by criticizing and wrecking another person's work. When it comes to ornithology and bird art, the prime target is almost invariably John James Audubon. Added to the problem with this book is that much of the criticism and the accusations are either unfounded or plain inaccurate. While the author contends he read the notes that Audubon wrote for Birds of America, there are too many instances where this is either doubtful or not true. For instance, the author claims that Audubon knew nothing about fallouts during spring migration. Audubon's notes for the Arkansas Flycatcher (present-day Western kingbird) and in many other places demonstrates that Audubon most definitely had a firm idea of the challenges and hardships birds go through during spring migration. And in case the reader really was curious about how many birds Audubon "missed," the count is currently around 1,500 birds, not the ten or so discussed by Kaufman. The number of species that Cornell's e-Bird system shows occurring in North America stands at 2,162. Audubon drew and documented 500 birds in Birds of America. Kaufman needs to stick to being a birder, so he calls himself, rather than a writer.

[Nicholas · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved this tour through history, biography, and ornithology. The book covers the Age of Discovery in North America -- the 18th and 19th centuries -- with a focus on the explorers competing to identify new birds and the reasons they missed certain species. A fun, well-researched work.

[Alejandro Montero · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think the title of this book is a bit misleading. There is some discussion of the birds that Audubon missed, but that’s not really the focus of the book.
It’s a minor, but not insignificant quibble.
Beyond that I loved the book and I was surprised by the quality of the writing and his success in keeping the narrative easy to follow and exciting to read.

[Jill · Rating 5 out of 5]

An astounding book, Kaufman did an extraordinary amount of research to write it. And from that research tells a story, probably never told before, of the development and growth of American ornithology. Along the way, he explores the complicated character of JJ Audubon. A must read for historians, bird lovers, and artists too!

[Angela · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an excellent, although deeply niche, book about bird identification, discovery, taxonomy, art, history, and human nature. I wasn’t always sure where it was going, but I enjoyed the journey. I really respect Kenn Kaufman (sort of a personal hero, honestly) for his thoughtful observations, willingness to embrace new perspectives, and endless sense of wonder about the world.

[Nikki · Rating 1 out of 5]

Difficult to make birds dull to me but turns out simply focusing almost entirely on the men seeking/shooting/naming birds sure does it.

[Ashley Wilson · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fine writing cannot overlook a hefty amount of bitching about bird species.

[Melissa Rochelle · Rating 5 out of 5]

It is magical to read the right book at the right time. My interest in birds, bird names, the history of natural science, evolution, and...well...I guess, our understanding of nature, were all touched on in this wonderful book. Get ready for a rambling review.

My favorite way to consume nonfiction is via audiobook paired with the ebook when I'm willing to splurge or can time library checkouts perfectly. If Whispersync is available, I'm all over it. This audiobook has a lovely narrator and it was handy to hear some of those bird names out loud instead of only in my head (definitely been thinking Lazuli wrong - I've never had reason to say it aloud). I wish the ebook featured more color portraits (I doubt the physical book has more color images, but it would be cool if it did).

Paying attention to the birds around me has been life-changing which may read as hyperbole, but it isn't. There's just so much to learn and knowing that what's known is constantly growing and evolving is powerful. What is true today, may morph into a new truth tomorrow. That's the way of science. Because I like knowing things, one of the things that has proven most interesting and frustrating is the names of birds. In 2021 when I first got a pair of binoculars, I was discouraged by bird guides only featuring the males of the species and was too distracted by the world to dig any deeper than quick searches to find out the name of the bird. Plus I came to the conclusion birding was sexist, why else would they only include the male of the species?

Anyway, none of that is related to this book which I found when I was trying to figure out why so many Southwest birds were named after a bunch of dead white guys. I like to keep/make thematic book lists (and, more recently collages) so when I read Christian Cooper's and Camille Dungy's books in March, I made one about birds and discovered two soon-to-be-published books: this one and Amy Tan's chronicles. I was hesitant to pick this one up because it's by an older white dude so I pre-ordered Amy Tan's and put this one on my list of books to check out of the library. Funny since I have now purchased the audio and the ebook of Mr Kaufman's work. It started out as a library ebook, but when my hold expired midway through, I ended up purchasing it. I was already frustrated that I had to wait for any of my library's to buy a copy -- this is why I spend so much on books: I want to read what I want to read when I want to read it. I am an impatient reader. Again, I digress.

Audubon never made it to Arizona so there are an awful lot of birds here he didn't know existed. When I started making collages about my backyard birds, collecting old images, various field guide texts, and probably violating copyright laws, I was surprised by the MANY changes between when an 1890s field guide was published and what the current science says. I simply had not put together the importance of genetics and binoculars yet. For some birds, little seems to have changed. Mockingbirds are mockers and their behaviors have been well documented for decades, they're an East Coast bird that the "discoverers" were all over. And their songs have been tricking birders for centuries. In fact, at one time ornithologists thought the Mockingbirds of the east were different from the mocker of the west. I only discovered this because I was specifically seeking sources from women and Florence Merriam Bailey's books are largely in the public domain. She isn't really mentioned in Mr Kaufman's book (she appeared on the scene much later than the period he is writing about), but she played a large role in documenting birds of the Southwest AND in observing birds in new ways.

All of that to say, Mr Kaufman's book gave me a perspective on early birding that I hadn't yet put completely together. I had joked to my husband on a birding tour at the Audubon center that early naturalists were of the "shoot it or it didn't happen" school of thought, much like in the early days of social media, "photo or it didn't happen." All of the dead birds of the early days were concerning to me -- of course, I have the luxury of binoculars and cameras. I had yet to really connect that shooting the birds was their only option to properly describe and document the birds. Glancing through Ms Bailey's book Birds: Through an Opera-Glass , I had kind of gotten that idea, but reading this book has given me a new perspective on all those dead white guys who were very much products of their time.

Eponymous naming of birds has bothered me from the beginning of my birding journey-- who IS Abert of Abert's Towhee? It's a learning journey I would've preferred to skip over but that's the little brown bird's common name and because I like to know things, I had to know why it was tagged with a nondescript name. Fortunately for Major Abert, he chose the right side of history and served in the Union Army; however, he didn't name the bird after himself, one of his subordinates named the black-masked bird in his honor. When reading about the Say's Phoebe, I stumbled upon the writings of Matthew Halley who shared unpublished writings from Charles Peale on eponyms that has really stuck with me:

“There is also another unmeaning custom, which it is still more essential for us to get rid of. I mean that of naming subjects of Nature, after Persons, who have plumed themselves with those childish ideas of their being the first discoverers of such or such things.”

Learning that someone in 1799 thought it was a silly thing to do has reinforced my belief that eponyms need to go -- "honoring" (mostly) men that were the first to describe a bird to the Western world makes no sense to me. In my naiveté I also thought every bird had an indigenous name so why wouldn't they have used those -- well, duh, Melissa, because indigenous people also didn't have binoculars and cameras. The most ubiquitous and bold birds have indigenous names, but there are also MANY indigenous languages so how would we land on just one, plus thousands of years of knowledge was wiped out by murder and illness. (An entirely different topic that I would love for someone to write a book about - naming and knowledge of birds from an indigenous perspective -- a topic I am far from completely understanding and have over-simplified).

Only kind of related: I also do deep dives into non-eponymous names when they aren't obviously descriptive, example, one of my favorite backyard birds: Verdin (no tilde on the "i"). I have yet to find a satisfactory answer about why they're called this. In Spanish, Verdín means light green or bright green (they are not green) and the Spanish name for these little bitties are baloncito or baloncillo. In French, Verdin means something like "yellowhammer", but these are gleaners, not peckers so they aren't hammering anything. In Tohono O'odham, they're gisop. (Sources: Tohono Chul, Sonoran Desert Museum, All About Birds, Audubon Southwest, and Wild Birds Online).

I finished listening to this book on the same day that the large pine that has shaded the south corner of my backyard for decades was cut down. My hammock was under it's crown and I have seen many birds hanging around it's branches since we moved in five years ago: owls, kestrels, hawks, grackles, sparrows, finches, mockingbirds, towhees, doves, ravens, woodpeckers, hummingbirds, and many more. A plethora of birds for a suburban Phoenix neighborhood graced with 40-year-old trees. It provided much needed shade for our chickens, fruit trees, and me. Under it's needles was my favorite place to read. I am devastated that my neighbors had to cut it down, it smells like murdered pine tree outside.

The last few paragraphs of the book hit me much harder than I would've expected, but because I was already feeling pretty raw, maybe it makes sense. Mr Kaufman shares a story about two little girls hearing a catbird for the first time and I thought about how amazed I am anytime I see a tiny kestrel or hear a mockingbird that has fooled the Merlin app. Thinking about the beginner's mind vs the expert's and the magic of personal discovery, I'm grateful for my lack of knowledge about birds. I have so much to learn and uncover and discover and share with anyone that will listen to me.

From the last chapter: "We may remember those who found creatures considered new to science, but the magic happens on the personal level, when they are new to us. And the potential for such finds is always there. Miracles wait for us around every corner." Indeed, they do.

[Bookfan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the third book that I've read by Kenn Kaufman (not counting field guides, which you don't really read so much as consult), and he has become one of my favorite nature writers. Specifically, he is gifted at writing about the magic of birds and their place in nature and history. This book takes us back to the 1800's, when the country was young and wild, with many opportunities for naturalists to explore North America and find and describe previously unknown species for science. (I should say unknown to Europeans; naturally indigenous peoples of North America knew the flora and fauna and named species in their cultures.) With all of Audubon's flaws (slave owner, fraudster, plagiarist) and gifts, he also produced some of the most sublime bird art that has ever been painted, and Kenn does not attempt to either apologize for the flaws or diminish the art. (Note: I was privileged to see an exhibit of Audubon's watercolors at the Detroit Institute of Arts quite a few years ago!) Kenn Kaufman concludes the book in a very moving way, helping us to remember that we are all still capable of exploring and seeing new things.

[Peggy Page · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a joy to read! This is Kenn Kaufmann at his best - a wonderful storyteller, explainer and birdophile. His theme is discovery. Yes, it is about the history of the “discovery” of new (or not!) bird species by white settlers of North America, but also about his own discoveries, and ours. I was charmed!

I also very much appreciated Kaufmann’s nuanced and clear-eyed view of the current controversy about Audubon’s life and legacy. He does not defend the man’s flaws and transgressions. In fact, he lays them out as clearly as any account I have read, down to the made-up species and slaveholding. But he asks that we not condemn the art and the discoveries because the artist was flawed. He asks for holding contradictory notions in mind: that a flawed man can make peerless contributions to knowledge.

Kaufmann brings many of the early American ornithologists to vivid life, and his final chapter is a joy to read. Bravo, Kenn. You are a treasure.

[Abbie Zorrilla · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was fascinating. Kaufman does an excellent job of tying in old ornithology with present day ornithology. His writing also allows you to imagine what it was like for Audubon and other early naturalists to discover America’s abundant biodiversity. I appreciated that Kaufman did not hesitate to criticize Audubon, and the racist and sexist views of that time period.
The process of identifying and defining a new species is quite complex, and for Audubon to have found so many without the tools we have today is quite impressive. I enjoyed that Kaufman included other naturalists and gave credit where credit was due. This book is quite digestible, a good mix of informative with little anecdotes. I highly recommend it!

[Wendy · Rating 4 out of 5]

First orthological book read! I am a bird enthusiast because I know and recognize very few. I love nature and this book was very well written, providing all sides of birding in America: the historical fact, historical record, the current naming system, the author's personal introspection and journey. I didn't know what I was getting into while listening to this book, but it was a great one. I think lots of facets of society were touched upon and it was never tacky-ily done. I recommend!

[Lorraine Sulick-Morecraft · Rating 4 out of 5]

This treatise of the origins of ornithology confirms my belief that “birders are bullies.” I will hold on to my admiration of John Jay Audubon’s artistic works in spite of his personal shortcomings. What we have today to assist us in bird identification is nothing less than amazing considering the efforts of the birders of the late 1800s. We may never discover a new to the world species in our lifetime but a new to us bird species is a breathtaking thrill.

[Julyn · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was a really interesting look into the nuance of birding, and especially that of early birders and ornithologists. It sort of gives pirates of the Caribbean with searching for treasure, but the treasure is a new bird species to name. Really interesting to know the deeper history of different bird names of North America.

[Allie Mast · Rating 3 out of 5]

The only reason this is 3 stars and not 4 is due to a personal deficiency in that I struggle with name recollection. In this book, and in most books detailing scientific discovery and history in general, there are a lot of names to keep track of. Setting that aside, I thought Kauffman wrote with great nuance! Called attention to the flaws of past ornithologists/naturalists while also acknowledging their contributions given the limited tools they had at hand. Kauffman reminded me of the joy of (1) shared discovery among the highly connected community of experts and amateurs (2) personal rediscovery of what we come to regard as the familiar (3) the knowledge that there is so much opportunity for learning within Creation.

[Cheryl]

Daniel recommends. If I like it, recommend to Eloise to tell Pima to buy it (in paper).

[B C Asch · Rating 5 out of 5]

Totally for the birds! Loved it!

[Lucy Vanderbeck · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was my first nonfiction book in probably years, and it did take me a while to finish it, but I loved it so much. Such a perfect balance of art, birds, and history. Extra points for the pretty cover that caught my eye in the library.

[Kathleen Saad · Rating 5 out of 5]

Exceptional book that introduced me to the fascinating world of birding. Kenn Kaufman writes poetically beautiful essays of the centuries- long search for differing bird species, along with accounts of forgery, fraud and plagiarism. I will be watching out more carefully for the birds that I habit my neck of the woods. Wonderful book!!

[Scott · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love all of Kenn Kaufman’s books. This book covered a topic I wasn’t certain I would like, but his insight made it great. Well researched and well written.