KEY POINTS:
It is not a good year for conservation. Early last week, the (Chinese) white-fin dolphin, or baiji, was classified as functionally extinct after an expedition failed to find a single individual.
The remnants of a population that had existed for millions of years had finally been extirpated, beneath
the filth, pollution and indiscriminate fishing practices on what was once one of the most beautiful rivers in the world, the Yangtze.
In heaven, or wherever extinct species go, the baiji will be in good company, although it may have had to queue at the gates to get in.
A few weeks earlier, at the World Heritage meeting in Christchurch, we heard how a sub-species of the northern white rhino, one of the original "flagship" species in Garamba national park in the Congo, could no longer be found.
We watched this species, like the baiji, slowly drain out of existence. A precarious population of a few dozen at the turn of the century is now, most probably, gone.
The redeeming consideration, if there is any, is that the authorities in China and the Congo did not intentionally target these species out of existence.
They may have been negligent, and perhaps even reckless, in not controlling a large number of threats, but they did not want or desire the extinction of a species within their borders.
This is typically the case. These species are "collateral damage", caught in the crossfire of other human activities.
But this is not the situation everywhere. In some instances, the dividing line between acquiescing in the demise of a species and actively helping the process is hard to draw.
A regrettable case involved the Arabian Oryx, which lived in a large World Heritage site in Oman. The population of this species plummeted from 480 in 1999 to 68 this year.
This population decline, due in large part to cross-border poaching, gave Oman the justification to significantly reduce the boundaries of their site, which coincided perfectly with its quest for hydrocarbon exploration on the habitat of the Oryx.
In turn, this reduction in size lead to the first deletion of a site from the World Heritage List. The overt irony was that Oman wanted the site delisted.
The loss of such "megafauna" is not unique as we turn into the new century, but what may be unique is that the pace of the loss may be increasing.
The World Conservation Union (or IUCN) maintains what is known as the Red List of Threatened Species. This robust scientific analysis tells us, that as of last year, 16,119 animal and plant species were in danger of extinction.
These numbers include one in eight birds, one in four mammals, and one in three amphibian species.
New Zealand's contribution to this list is 134 animals which are either critically endangered, endangered or simply vulnerable, and 21 plant species. It includes a variety of birds, led by several kiwi species, and many others, from insects to frogs and skinks.
All of these species are at risk of becoming further full stops in the history of life on Earth, and joining the 784 species which have become extinct since 1500.
It is possible to argue that what is going on is in full accordance with natural processes. Indeed, perhaps 99.9 per cent of all species that have ever existed on the Earth are now extinct.
The average lifetime of a species is somewhere between one and 15 million years. Marine species persist for longer than terrestrial ones.
In evolutionary terms, mammals are the jet set, as species are created and lost at a high rate. The process of extirpation has been largely driven by at least five large-scale extinctions over the previous hundreds of millions of years.
The last, in the Mesozoic Era - ending some 65 million years ago - saw off the dinosaurs, among others, and paved the way for humanity.
It is possible that humanity is now on the cusp of the next extinction spasm.
The difference between this current possible extinction spasm, and the ones before it is threefold.
First, the speed of the current spasm is unique. Aside from the original asteroid strikes, most previous extinctions unrolled over thousands of years.
What is happening now reflects an extinction rate which may be close to 1000 times higher than the background rates that were typical over other periods of Earth's history.
Second, the current catalyst is not impacts by asteroids, massive volcanic eruptions or out-of-control climatic change. Rather, it is humanity, acting with intention, negligence or reckless behaviour.
Today, human actions are fundamentally, and to a significant extent, irreversibly, changing the diversity of life on Earth, and many of these changes represent a loss of biodiversity.
Although we have adopted a legacy, this generation is the key agent of change. Our technology, insights, and our abilities, combined with 6 billion people, climbing quickly to a probable 8.9 billion people by 2050, give us unprecedented power.
Finally, humanity can make choices. We are not complete victims of natural processes. We can choose what type of future we wish to achieve.
The luxury, and responsibility, of moral choice was not available to the other agents of extinction.
It is up to us all if we wish to avoid seeing an avalanche of more species join those which are currently flashing before our eyes.
* Alexander Gillespie is a professor at the school of law, University of Waikato.
