As I sit here typing, I'm gutted. I had weeks back, prepared an article for you all that would have been a great accompaniment to the holiday season that is now upon some of us. Alas this morning in my hazy human stupidity I deleted the entire text and for whatever idiotic reason did not have a hard copy of this post to recover it. I am a fool for sure, the entire draft was completed and waiting to go public. There is no way I could rewrite the post in the time I have left before my deadline. I may have to try and re write in the new year.
But on that note I'd like to talk about something more personal, something that is probably more relevant to the season and the coming new year than the original topic. Maybe we could consider this an odd stroke of luck if we choose to.
Grab a hot drink of your choice, get comfy and let's chat about the nature of excellence.
There are many words we use to describe what we do, and I touched on this some time ago in another post about linguistics, but I want to take this rare chance to share with you what I think I have learned about the nature of progressiveness and excellence in aviculture.
As a young bird keeper, what seems like eons ago, I viewed the world in a somewhat naïve way, my lack of real academic understanding meant that I placed a huge amount of respect on the shoulders of anyone who appeared to know anything about birds and how to keep them. I had so much to learn and aviculture seemed like some sort of dark art to me, something to be honed and mastered like a budget Sith lord. I think almost everyone starts out like this in their view and some never leave this mindset even into adulthood, that is by the way, not a criticism, but an observation in my experience.
Here's a list of phrases
“Idiot”
“are you incompetent?”
“you don't know anything about anything”
These are all phrases uttered to me by people I respected when I was a young, maybe foolish birdkeeper trying to make my way. They echoed through my brain for many years and more so because the people that said them were people I respected, people I aspired to emulate. Today I can't think of anything worse.
Sometimes the real thing doesn't look the way you expect it to. |
Critical thinking and historical perspective - that's how. Being able to critically break down a situation and put it into perspective is key to maintaining these states, if indeed anyone really does that perfectly? The people that made those statements lacked all of those traits, they whole heartedly believed themselves to be finished “experts” in their fields. No such title exists in reality, the science of aviculture still holds too many mysteries for any of us to ever be “experts”. This is probably true of most things in life, the false confidence this saturates the individual with will produce many interesting statements!
Younger me viewed the world through an inherited lens, one of progress being a crude timeline based on the idea that what we do now will push the art of aviculture forward, and it will stay in that state, as a monument to progress. What we discover will make things better and the aviculture of the next century will be infinitely more complex and exciting as a result; and to some degree this is true, from a technological perspective at least, if we make good use of these advances.
Although crude by today's standards, this keeper was working with the best of what was available at the time, in this case improving the life of this Iguana. |
Now we have access to technologies and ideas that were unthinkable in the last century, but yet sometimes our drive for progress and excellence can still feel somewhat hollow on a personal level. Why is this?
Viewing the world like a timeline we still see gross examples of poor husbandry everywhere. That is because on the whole, it seems that progress and excellence are not timelines, they are not auto updated situations and not every bird keeper out there is interested or aware of their nature, nor could they stumble upon this truth easily by accident.
If I can distil this idea into a few sentences, they might read something like this:
The nature of excellence in aviculture is a vacuum; a vacuum held stable only by the persistence and examples set by the best practitioners of the time, regardless of their background. Excellence is not an inherited trait, nor is it automatically inferred by any affiliation to any groups or institutions. It is a state of mind.
Of course excellent individuals may exist within groups and institutions, but there is no “factory” pumping out industrial grade greatness. You can't buy it, and also more importantly you can't earn it by virtue of years repeating the same things. I know keepers of a few years that have more horsepower in their little finger thanks to their outlook than some who have kept birds for decades the same way. It's a mindset. If we view things from a human timeline perspective, we put more focus on the people than their work: their true power and legacy is found here, in the eyes of the birds they care for.
The moment that an individual fails to work to their best potential, that vacuum collapses and mediocrity or worse prevails as the status quo, that being the sum mean between the best and worst of birdkeeping practice, which to me at least, is awfully uninspiring.
This reality called to me through time, a rather romantic notion, but a true one. My frustrations at “old school” birdkeepers drove me forward initially, but in spite of my hate for human nostalgia when it applies to animal welfare and my futurist outlook, I do have an interest in the past, there are nuggets of truth and unexplored trails in the pages of avicultural literature that can sometimes tell us things that as a demographic, we missed, it's like panning for gold.
The more I did this, the more I realised that avicultural husbandry has never really existed in a homogenous state, rather than the gentle timeline of progress and new ideas one might expect to see, what actually reveals itself is a parade of characters throughout history, all of whom are bound by one thing, their desire for the best for their birds. The challenges they faced in the past were maybe trivial by today's standards, but the honest truth is that they not only identified those issues competently in times when many bird species barely lived for months in human care, but they came up with solutions, they built the world we know today piece by piece. There were in those times many poor birdkeepers too, as we see today, and as we will see 100 years from now.
I think what I'm trying to convey is that these traits are conditions created by a vast network of unique individuals, all of them holding their little vacuums to try and make things better, and it's this jigsaw that links us keepers today with them and in time, will link us to the keepers of tomorrow. Let us hope then that our legacies are as helpful as those we have inherited.
So often in keeping circles we see the question asked, what advice do you wish you had when you were starting out?
Present Chris would tell young Chris that everything a keeper needs is inside of them already if they know where to look, an inquisitive mind, a heart that cares for more than just the human it inhabits. The only thing you need is to do your best and be honest with yourself when you are not, and I mean brutally honest. There will be people who will care more for themselves and their fears than for the truth of the goal, which is to leave birdkeeping (and life) better than you found it. Be fearless and never accept that the current state of the art and science is “enough”. As long as there are ways to improve there is work to be done. Don't believe the hype.
Many years back, a late, great curator of London zoo advised me, as a green keeper voicing my frustrations at the apathetic attitudes of some keepers...
“There will be d*ckheads, but you just have to sort through them”.
I'm now wise enough to understand the more subtle nuances of what he meant when he said that.
This is the blessing and curse of a keeper that strives for excellence, the truth of the matter outside of all the human interference is binary, as are most things in nature, there is something, or there is nothing.
You hold that vacuum or you don't.
Your brilliance shines or it doesn't.
The birds of now and the keepers of the future need you to shine. If you found your way to this moment right now by yourself, I suspect you already knew that.
Happy holidays, 2024 will be superb.
C.
NEWS: If you've made it this far and are still
excited to learn more, you might be interested to know that we have
recently set up a facebook group to help push forward thinking
birdkeeping and discuss challenges and ideas. You can find it by
searching Aviology: aviculture 2.0 on facebook or use the link HERE.
I may see you there!