….is that it creates nonsense like this! Now, I’m sure that spatial and temporal trends of global pollination have, indeed, benefited me – but that’s not the title of the paper! The actual title is “Spatial and Temporal Trends of Global Pollination Benefit” – full stop. I handled the paper when I was an editor at PLOS One and somehow my role has been bundled into the title by whatever reference management system the authors have used.
One thing that “Spatial and Temporal Trends of Global Pollination Benefit Jeff Ollerton” does get right, though, is subject-verb agreement – check out Steve Heard’s post over at Scientist Sees Squirrel on this very topic, and how a careful analysis of sentence structure can improve your writing.
In the post today I was pleased to find a copy of Brigit Strawbridge Howard’s first book Dancing With Bees that she had kindly signed and sent after I reviewed some of the text. It was great timing – I’ve just finished Mark Cocker’s Our Place, a really important historical and future road map of how Britain got to its present position of denuded and declining biodiversity, and what we can do to halt and reverse it. Highly recommended for anyone interested in environmental politics and action. So Brigit’s book will be added to the pile on my bedside table and may be next in line, though I still haven’t finished Dave Goulson’s The Garden Jungle – perhaps I will do that before I start Dancing With Bees?
And thereby lies a problem – there’s just too many interesting books to read at the moment if you are interested in the environment, or indeed even just in pollinators. Because a new genre of writing seems to be emerging that I call “auto-bee-ography”. A number of writers are using bees to frame their memoirs and anecdotes. Dave’s trilogy of Buzz in the Meadow, Sting in the Tale, and Bee Quest is probably the best known. Then there’s Buzz by Thor Hanson; Following the Wild Bees by Thomas Seeley; Bees-at-Law byNoël Sweeney;Keeping the Bees by Laurence Packer; Bee Time by Mark Winston; Bees Make the Best Pets by Jack Mingo; Buzz: Urban Beekeeping and the Power of the Bee
by Lisa Jean Moore and Mary Kosut; The Secrets of Bees by Michael Weiler; and The Bumblebee Flies Anyway by Kate Bradbury.
All of these books fall more-or-less into the category of auto-bee-ography, and I’m sure there are others that I’ve missed (feel free to add to the list in the comments below). They follow a strong tradition in natural history and environmental writing of using encounters with particular groups of organisms, for example birds and plants, as a way of exploring wider themes Which is great, the more high profile we can make all of these organisms, including pollinators, the better in my opinion*.
However there’s not enough written about the other pollinators, that does seem to be a gap in the literature. Mike Shanahan’s Ladders to Heaven has a lot about his encounters with figs and their pollinating wasps, but that’s about it, unless I’ve missed some? Perhaps in the future I’ll write something auto-fly-ographical called No Flies on Me. But before that, look out for Pollinators and Pollination: nature and society which I’m currently completing for Pelagic Publishing. It should be out in Spring 2020.
*Though not in everyone’s – I had a very interesting discussion on Twitter with some other ecologists recently about whether pollinators had too high a profile compared to organisms that perform other functional roles in ecosystems such as seed dispersers. You can follow the thread from here: https://twitter.com/JMBecologist/status/1165565465705496576
For years I’ve tried to impress this idea upon my PhD students and postdocs, that writing IS part of the research, and that “writing up” research is, at best, an inaccurate way of describing the process, even in the sciences. It’s had mixed success because it’s a difficult message to get across until they experience it for themselves and appreciate the importance of writing as they go along, even if much of what they write doesn’t end up in the thesis or research paper.