Foxes, buzzards, crows, badgers, weasels, seals, kites – Britain and Ireland’s predators are impressive and diverse and they capture our collective imagination. But many consider them to our competition, even our enemies.
The problem is that predators eat what we farm or use for sport. From foxes and ravens attacking new-born lambs to weasels eating game-bird chicks, predators compete with us, putting them directly into the firing line. Farming, fishing, sport and leisure industries want to see numbers of predators reduced, and conservation organisations also worry that predators are threatening some endangered species. Other people, though, will go to great lengths to protect them from any harm. This clashing of worlds can be intense. So, what do we do? One of the greatest challenges facing conservation today is how, when and where to control predators. It is a highly charged debate.
Mary Colwell travels across the UK and Ireland to encounter the predators face to face. She watches their lives in the wild and discovers how they fit into the landscape. She talks to the scientists studying them and the wildlife lovers who want to protect them. She also meets the people who want to control them to protect their livelihoods or sporting interests.
In this even-handed exploration of the issues, Mary provides a thoughtful and reasoned analysis of the debates surrounding our bittersweet relationship with predators.
I did lots of underlining while reading this book; some joyous, some woeful, some inspiring - but every line I marked meant I was moved enough to put pen to paper. I feel like, as someone who already has a deep appreciation for British wildlife and takes part in volunteer rescue work, this book may have been preaching to the choir, but I still felt like I learnt plenty and benefited from the various viewpoints shown.
A great subject for study (how does an industrial nation live with its predator animals), excellently researched and courageously answered. In a world where nuance has given way to 'my black' and 'your white', it is refreshing to read someone who admits there are no easy answers. Well worth a read.
The intro to Mary Colwell’s Beak, Tooth and Claw: Living with Predators in Britain holds harrowing revelation, Great Tits, those burly favourites of the bird table, have been known to use their acorn smashing beaks to splinter the skulls of hibernating bats and eat the brains, leading one expert to christen them with the epithet 'Zombie Tits'. It’s changed my view of them to be honest.
It's the Predator paradox you see, a human form of categorisation that doesn't do subtle. Some animals despite obvious murder tendencies don't get classed as predators, they don't fit the Beak, Tooth and Claw aesthetic....Predation is more about human perception and the meaning people give to their relationship to nature. Our perceptions of nature are why so many larger predators are persecuted over the smaller less obtrusive death machines.
Getting to the heart of this paradox and the persecution of Mesopredators is what Colwell’s book is all about, and it makes for fascinating, if sometimes brutal reading.
Nature and wildlife conservation is an emotive subject and Colwell doesn’t shy away from the conflicts, seeking to find an answer on how to live with medium sized predators in a modern and industrial Britain. Each chapter deals with a specific predator, Foxes, Badgers, Corvids, Birds of Prey, Seals and finally Wildcats, Wolves and Lynx. Colwell offers a considered argument for each, summing up their history of persecution, their rebounds and the current issues affecting their survivability in a human world. Taking in the alternative perspectives, Farmer’s anecdotal evidence against the science facts and statistics, what you believe is probably down to your own principles, Colwell leaves it up to you to decide, and her own views are often hauntingly expressed. Excerpts of famous poetry and literature stand by the words of farmers and conservationist in balanced ambiguity, the practical beside the emotional. Colwell helps navigate a complex argument with intelligence, empathy and wit, revealing fascinating facets of British culture and our relationship to the natural world around us.
Beak, Tooth and Claw doesn’t shy away from the brutal and wild nature of predator and prey dynamics, the zombie tits may sound incongruous but they have nothing on Grey Seals peeling smaller Common Seals like oranges. Despite the bloodletting Beak, Tooth and Claw also has its captivating beauty, the snuffling badger, the sauntering urbane urban fox, and to us the pitch black shadow of ravens, a frisson of the macabre, but to other corvids and their high ultra-violet range eyesight, they are a blaze with dazzling colours....
Beak, Tooth and Claw is a fascinating, emotive and powerful, for anyone interested in wild Britain and the struggle for conservation I highly recommend it.
It occurred to me while reading this, that there are some parallels for the concept of predator reintroduction between the UK and Singapore. They have the elusive wildcat and the larger sized Eurasian lynx, while we have the almost locally extinct leopard cat and the probably once extant clouded leopard. Obviously the former is a much larger territory compared to an island state, but lessons can still be drawn from the discourse on how acceptable bringing back predators could be to the local populace.
In any case, I skipped the chapters on most of the animals the writer discussed, like ravens, badgers and seals, but the introductory and concluding chapters were well written, in depth discussions about the subject in general. Clearly Colwell is passionate about the topic, and some of the writing very personal and charged with emotion, for instance when she wrote a long letter addressing a wolf that was about to be culled.
Co-existence with predators is happening in some countries like India and in Africa, though whether it is voluntary or out of necessity is debatable. For richer nations, it rarely works unless the land is very sparsely populated as in some European states today or in the American west. To do so in more densely settled parts will be challenging indeed, requiring a sea change in societal attitudes cultivated over the last couple of centuries, to cede some of our dominance over the land to our once competitor species.
3.75 stars 'it is yet another example of our blaming wildlife for problems of our own making'
i thought this did a good job of looking at various views of predators using anecdotal evidence whilst still reaching conclusions based on scientific evidence and peer-reviewed studies (where available)
the crows and seals were my fav purely bc i love crows and i liked the mythology incorporated into the seals
I enjoy Mary Colwell’s writing and especially her efforts to present balanced arguments, which sometimes introduce me to new perspectives that I find very valuable…that said, it does still feel, at points, a liiiiiittle bit too much like pandering to the anti-ecological, unsustainable, economic, farmer lobby…at points. But I might be being slightly biased because I do think this country has become overrun and denuded by subsidised sheep that aren’t part of a sustainable business anyway ha
"We choose to protect some species over others based purely on our emotional reaction to them."
This was a timely read for me. I've spent some time in recent months protesting against a series of bear hunts planned in my native Florida against our native black bears. The last go 'round in 2015 was a slaughter, with overhunting so severe that it had to be called off early, with more than the projected numbers killed in a fraction of the planned time. Despite state regulations, hunters used dogs, while some people not formally part of the hunt bait-lured bears onto their land to have an excuse to kill them. Our desire to destroy our own planet will never not shock and terrify me, and yet we see examples of it every day. We are in an extinction boom, with species disappearing from the Earth faster than they are being found, and we are being pummeled with ever more freak weather events, things that used to be expected one time in a hundred years. Just in the last few years, that latter has shifted from one every year or so, to them occuring back to back so quickly that it's difficult to even keep track. And yet every time we are struck with disaster, the baseline shifts. We learn to accept the new reality, as humans are nothing if not resilient, but we can't function that way forever. Too many people are dying, too many creatures disappearing. The water in the pot is reaching a boil.
And for that reason, this could never not be a timely read.
Beak, Tooth, and Claw: Why We Must Live with Predators spends much of its time highlighting the interconnectedness of everything: why every loss from the ecosystem is a tragedy, but also why some are arguably necessary. It is a difficult book at odds with itself, tasked with breaking down a complicated topic in ways that will light a fire under a layperson to see that something is done. It does this through an exploration of the UK's predator creatures, past and present consumers of flesh and invertebrates. Despite the "Why" of the title, this book doesn't have easy answers. But it does have ideas, many and vast, and we would be well-suited to listen.
"...We have a moral duty to...work towards a system that is fair and just for all life, not simply for our own species or those we favour on utilitarian or aesthetic grounds."
The black bear is a peaceful creature. The wholesale slaughter of their Central Florida population in the last decade reduced their numbers enough to allow for the construction of overpasses on land that was once protected for them. More cars, fewer trees, the spread of the city out into the scatter of surrounding towns. And all to continue urban decay, destroying pockets of unique culture, our ability to renew critical resources, and the balance of all natural life in the name of economic progress. It's all connected, and it's all in trouble.
•
•
•
--I was greatly amused by every reference to tit birds (especially great tits), because at heart I am 12
--The mention of petrichor deserves a shoutout, as from the phrasing it is very likely a reference to Doctor Who
--In today's Reptile Report, we get a name check of the crocodile as a seemingly emotionless predator that scares people due to its difference from us, and adders as the United Kingdom's only surviving venomous snake (with none present whatsoever in Ireland, venomous or otherwise). Serpents get another reference as part of one of the many lines that almost works as a direct thesis for this multi-faceted book: "Wolves, snakes, foxes, scorpions and lions sit alongside lambs, deer and doves as essential symbols for the prescence of evil and good in the world, their traits projected onto human behavior." With the inconvenient nuance of reality, none of those creatures are quite what they seem. All are more complex, and far more important
Difficult questions and impossible answers, it's a long road to anywhere. 9/10
'Beak, Tooth and Claw' is a highly readable book about an assemblage of Britain's extant predators, and a few extra ones who might one day return to our shores.
While there were a few factual errors (for instance, I will go out on a limb and suggest that ravens are not more commonly seen than magpies and jackdaws, unless you live on an isolated Welsh mountain) I felt carried along by the narrative. The book is a fairly fascinating collection of first-hand sensory experiences, communications with the likes of Derek Gow and George Monbiot, and academic/grey literature. Things even better as I went along - I learned a great deal from the chapters on white-tailed sea eagles and seals (even as I felt the shadow of despair that Colwell described experiencing often while she was writing and researching).
An essential read, but not an easy one. It catalogues our often destructive relationship with the animal predators we both admire and fear, and which we kill in response to perceived problems which are entirely of our own making. Spoiler alert: sheep farming has a lot to answer for. I was pessimistic before I read it for our chances of reversing the decline in biodiversity, and my mood hasn't improved.
Raises interesting points which are disheartening with no clear answers. Bit repetitive as a book, same issue transposed in each chapter. Different animal same problem. Unfortunately it feels like another problem the human race must add to the list and fix before it's too late. Vanishing biodiversity will cause many problems down the line and it won't be acknowledged until it's too late. It'll be just us humans with our meaningless capitalism and ruined landscapes.
A Christmas present. Not a completely unbiased account but interesting with plenty of research references. Mostly I despaired at humanity, though there are no clear solutions. Would I be happy to walk freely in a wood at night if lynx were (re) introduced? Wolves? Not the ‘masterpiece’ Tim Smit has called it (according to the cover) especially as there was some unnecessary repetition (‘poults’ and ‘green fire’). that should have been edited out, so only a four.
"Conservationn in today's world is, in effect, gardening in the ruins of capitalism." So says Mary Colwell in this brilliant, devestating take on what we've done to the world, and especially its predators. She doesn't have all the answers - who does? - but raises some seriously important questions.
Mary Colwell’s Beak, Tooth and Claw is a compelling and balanced exploration of the native predators of the British Isles and the complex relationships they share with the humans who inhabit the same landscapes. With clarity and compassion, Colwell navigates the thorny terrain of conservation, conflict, and coexistence, offering readers a nuanced look at the challenges facing these often-misunderstood creatures. One of the book’s greatest strengths is its even-handed approach. Colwell doesn’t shy away from the tensions between wildlife advocates and those whose livelihoods may be impacted by predator populations. She gives voice to scientists, conservationists, pro-wildlife groups, and landowners alike, allowing readers to engage with the full spectrum of perspectives. This makes for a rich and thought-provoking read that avoids simplistic conclusions. Her decision to focus specifically on predators was particularly interesting. Colwell delves into the historical and cultural factors that have shaped our perceptions of these animals — how our stories about them, that have been passed on from generation to generation have often cast them as dangerous, evil, or competitive threats to human survival. These insights add depth and context, revealing how deeply embedded our biases are and how they continue to influence policy and public opinion. While the book excels in presenting the issues, it falls slightly short in offering concrete resolutions. There’s an implicit call for a societal shift in attitudes toward predators, but the path forward remains somewhat vague. The question of whether we truly want native predators to thrive — and what sacrifices that might entail — is left largely unanswered. Beak, Tooth and Claw is beautifully written and intellectually engaging. Though it lacks definitive solutions, it succeeds in sparking vital conversations about coexistence, ecology, and the stories we tell about the wild. A must-read for anyone interested in the future of British wildlife. 4 stars