Guest Commentary

The killing of the jaguar Macho B on March 2, 2009, by the Arizona
Game and Fish Department (AZGFD) should cause everyone to reflect upon
how we relate to the natural world and the other life forms with which
we share the Earth.

Macho B—quite possibly the last jaguar to inhabit the American
Southwest—was captured, anesthetized, radio-collared and
eventually put to death, supposedly so we could gain the knowledge
needed to better understand the habits of borderland jaguars. In
reality, little could have been learned from this one aged animal, and
for years, AZGFD ignored the concerns expressed by many of us that the
ethical considerations and risks far outweighed the benefits in
exploiting and desecrating this magnificent animal for unnecessary
research. In truth, what passes for our “best science” commonly lacks
an ethical foundation and is often inappropriate and counterproductive.
In the case of Macho B, it cost him his life.

To paraphrase the title of the classic book by the late Sioux
scholar Vine Deloria Jr.: Macho B died for your sins.

Blame it on the Judeo-Christian tradition of dominion, or blame the
self-righteous shortsightedness of Western science, but the fact is
that our society shows a callous disregard for the animal world. We
wrongly hold the view that animals exist only for our use and
enjoyment. We consider them to be “property” or resources to be managed
and harvested. And in doing so, we diminish not only them, but
ourselves as well. The time has come for us to mature and to adopt a
different outlook toward our fellow nonhuman beings. A good model to
use as a starting point might be one that goes back to time
immemorial—that of Native America.

In the Native American world view, animals—like
humans—are products of a divine creation and thus are considered
family. They are often referred to as being the “Animal People.” They
differ from us only in outward appearance. They have individual
personalities, are intelligent and knowledgeable, and have the ability
to reason; they enjoy a wide range of emotions and feelings. They also
possess a “spiritual dimension,” having souls and the promise of an
afterlife. Most importantly, they are equal to humans in terms of their
right to pursue life and purpose, independent of the needs and desires
of humankind. Long before Western science came to discover the field of
ecology, Native Americans understood that the web of life and death
consisted of a network of reciprocal relationships bound together by
the one element that Macho B never truly received from the people who
studied him: respect.

Macho B died in the name of science. A great gulf exists between how
Western science and tribal people handle knowledge. Western science
forces secrets from nature, whereas Native Americans have always
accepted secrets from the rest of creation. Western science
answers to no higher power. It sees no limit to its quest for knowledge
and arrogantly believes that it is entitled to know the most intimate
details of everything. In contrast, Native people accepted the unknown
and unexplained with reverence. They also knew that some things could
not, and should not, be explained. In the tribal world, some things are
better left a mystery. It is those mysteries that keep Native people
humble and respectful to powers greater than themselves.

For more than 13 years and through more than 50 photographs, Macho B
willingly chose—on his own terms—to teach us, to
share his secrets, to give us all a glimpse into his private life. He
did so in a manner that maintained his freedom and dignity. But for
AZGFD and a handful of others, the knowledge that Macho B shared was
not enough. For them and the value system they represent, it is never
enough.

It’s interesting that in the days following the death of Macho B,
many of the people who were directly involved in the killing of this
animal wrote eloquently of their personal feelings toward him and of
their own sense of great loss. Often, these testimonials seemed to
cross the scientific threshold into a realm that I doubt they truly
understood. I can only wonder: In the mind’s eye of these individuals,
is the spiritual jaguar wearing a radio collar?

Steve Pavlik teaches Native American studies and Native science
at Northwest Indian College in Bellingham, Wash. He holds a master’s
degree in American Indian studies from the UA and is a former member of
the Jaguar Conservation Team. For more, visit blogs.nwic.edu/pavlik.

This article appears in Aug 6-12, 2009.