Generally, a government employee or environmental consultant who has no practical field skills or an understanding of ecology.
Unable to navigate in the
bush without the aid of a touch screen device. Turn up into the field dressed in completely
new clothes, almost always in khaki and predominately featuring an outdoors store latest season catalogue. Various digital accoutrements hang off their
belt to help with managing the wilderness. Prone to printing off a small woodlands worth of paperwork with every page colour coded, labelled and compartmentalised in corresponding coloured manilla folders. Cannot change a tyre.
Spend the majority of their time in the office obsessing of minor inconsequential details which
will be overlooked by the client. Readily plot survey points on a map with scant regard for topography, vegetation density or difficulty of access for which they
will then send out contractors to complete the actual
work. Dislike meetings but
will tolerate them for the tiny catered sandwiches during
mid-morning
tea. Drink
soy lattes.
Have the fitness of a wounded gazelle. Consider light wind a significant hazard and
will accordingly cancel the days
work. Accustomed to hefty meal allowances of which most
will be spent on sourdough and chia seeds. Don’t like spiders or things getting in their hair. Find fieldwork emotionally and physically traumatising despite their Instagram hashtags indicating otherwise.
Readily identify as an ‘ecologist’ in their email signature.
Standing at the precipice of a
volcano looking down into a cauldron of boiling,
angry lava.
Ecologist 1: Who put the site down there?
Ecologist 2: A
fucking café ecologist.
