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.
