The most inane statement I ever heard a biologist utter came from a former chief of the Office of Migratory Bird Management during the mid-1980s when duck populations fell to their historic nadir. In the course of our conversation I admonished him for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s failure to publicly speak out on behalf of our beleaguered flocks and inform waterfowlers a crisis was at hand that demanded a tightening of the gunning regulations.

He briefly pondered my remarks, then imperially declared:

“The ducks will speak for themselves.”

The ducks?

I was reminded of this recently when a long-time Ducks Unlimited member – a waterfowler who had given an enormous amount of time and effort to the cause, rising through the volunteer ranks to achieve high position within the organization – e-mailed to criticize a Madduck article that focused on DU’s historic rent-don’t-buy habitat management policy on the Canadian prairies. (See Melancholy Baby , Nov. 17, 2005)

Why, I responded, should we exchange e-mails about DU’s rent-don’t-buy policy when we face a new peril that poses far greater, more immediate danger to our breeding flocks than the parching of the northern prairies by drought, the disturbance of the land by agriculture or the termination of conservation lease agreements. The looming crisis engineered by waterfowl management is correctible, but our so-called waterfowl conservation organizations remain silent, apparently conceding all vocal opposition, like the aforementioned waterfowl biologist, to ducks that speak.

The issue is starkly simple. It involves the number of breeding ducks. How many breeders do we need under average wetland conditions to produce a fall flight that will satisfy us during the hunting season when we sit in our blind staring at the sky?

The North American Waterfowl Management Plan, adopted in the mid-1980s, sought to answer this question by establishing a breeding population goal of 8.2 million mallards under average wetland conditions. This number represented the average mallard breeding population during the 1970s and was considered sufficient to produce a bountiful fall flight.

As we all know, the issue is slightly more complex than the establishment of a numerical goal. A key component involves the amount of breeding habitat available to host each spring’s flock of procreating mallards. We have historically measured habitat by counting the number of potholes on the northern prairies. From 1974 to the present pothole totals have ranged from a low of 2.1 million to a high of 8.2 million. The long-term average is slightly more than 5 million. “Average wetland conditions” therefore range from 4-6 million potholes.

You should not assume that 8.2 million breeding mallards would fill all available habitat under average wetland conditions. Exact relationships are difficult to establish, but two estimates are key.

The first involves the 1987 Stabilized Regulations Study. It concluded that in 1984 when surveys found 4.2 million potholes and 5.4 million mallards on the breeding grounds, and again in 1986 when biologists counted 5.8 million potholes and 6.1 million breeding mallards, “there were far more wetlands than there were ducks to occupy them.” (Italics added.) Note that in these years the wetland conditions were average.

At first glance, the above figures approximating one duck per pothole might suggest the habitat is filled to capacity. But this would be a misleading interpretation. The mallard estimate involves the total continental population, of which no more than 60 percent would be found on the northern prairies. Of the ducks on the prairies, no more than 48 percent would be hens. This means in 1984 there were no more 1.6 million mallard hens on the prairies. This works out to one hen per 2.6 potholes, assuming no more than one hen per pothole. The ratio in 1986 works out to one hen per three potholes.

A 2004 Adaptive Harvest Management Report suggested there is sufficient habitat under average habitat conditions for 11.2 million breeding mallards. Since 1974, the mallard population under average wetland conditions has ranged from a low of 5 million to a high of 9.6 million. The average is 6.5 million – roughly half the number needed to fill today’s habitat to capacity.

Why, then, is the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service promoting an Adaptive Harvest Management agenda that concludes the ideal breeding population under average wetland conditions should be reduced to 5.3 million mallards?

As I asked my e-mail correspondent, where is Ducks Unlimited in this process? If the organization is sincere in seeking “unlimited” numbers of ducks, shouldn’t it be speaking out in opposition to efforts to reduce our breeding flocks? Equally important is the unanswered question of why we need to acquire more habitat if we already have twice the amount necessary for a 5.3 million breeding population?

Adaptive Harvest proponents assert fewer breeders will produce more young, allowing us over the long term to maximize the kill. Thus, it continues to allow for long seasons and high bag limits that result in overshooting and declining breeding populations.

The biological foundation for increased production cannot be found in any biological data I have examined. It represents a twisted, statistical logic derived from the fact waterfowl management no longer focuses on biology (the study of life) but thanatology (the study of death). Producing an ever higher mountain of dead ducks each season has become the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s overweening goal, not an ever increasing number of breeders. In this effort it is aided and abetted by clamoring flyway councils and see-hear-speak no evil waterfowl conservation organizations.

I keep listening, hoping the ducks will speak out, but to date have heard nothing. A deathly quiet has descended over the marshes. The silence is deafening.