December 23, 2023

While I spent many years as a seasonal wildlife biology technician, my more recent experience has been as an academic. While I feel that the life of a field tech better represents who I am, it’s hard to totally take the academic out of me. The following reads as much like a research paper as it does like a blog post; this is because I feel it’s important to provide adeqaute context for the story I’m telling here which relates to the stories not being told – those of minority field techs. In this post, I bring in scholarly research to help explain the myriad reasons why minority representation is so lacking among biology field technicians. Note: this post references interviews I conducted while visiting several field biology crews in the US. As the continuing concerns of habitat loss and decreased funding for scientific research loom largest among the threats to the practice of biology, questions related to the future of field biology technicians arise. Will there continue to be a need for a nomadic seasonal workforce in biology? If so, what will the next generation of field techs look like? Will it be similar to the current one? Despite the threats mentioned before and rapid developments in technologies which may automate some tasks traditionally carried out by field techs, the demand for these workers doesn’t seem to be slowing down quite yet. For example, 91 positions were posted on the Texas A&M job board on April 25, 2023 by entities including federal and state wildlife agencies, divisions of the military, public universities, non-profit organizations, environmental consultants, and commercial laboratories. But what about the supply side of the equation? Which is to say, will (primarily young) people continue to want to take low-paying seasonal jobs and live an unglamorous and unstable life, one which limits their ability to participate in social media and binge watch streaming content? One could argue that those who would rather watch an entire season of a show in a single day or weekend (such as the hundreds of thousands who watched the entirety of Stranger Things’ 4th season on Netflix in this manner) or would rather scroll through Instagram or TikTok for hours at a time may represent a segment of society that wouldn’t produce field techs. But what about those who would want to and be physically capable of doing so but would be prevented from doing so by forces beyond their control? Barriers of Race and Class Race and economic status serve as barriers preventing individuals from replenishing the ranks of field techs who lose interest in the lifestyle or can no longer handle the physical or mental challenges. While issues of class and race are impossible to separate cleanly, I’ll focus on class more broadly first before looking at the thornier issue of race. An obvious economic barrier is created by the “entry costs” to becoming a field tech which can be prohibitive; this includes at least a full complement of outdoor clothing and gear and most likely a reliable form of transportation as well. Jenny McKee of Audubon Magazine cited a 2015 study (Fournier and Bond) which found that about a third of jobs posted on two major job boards were unpaid or offered less than $300 per month stipends. Jensen (2021) conducted a review of a sample of postings on Texas A&M and other field biology job boards and determined that the hourly pay among paid positions in the sample was $10.48, below minimum wage in half of US states. While having minimal expenses and thrifty living allow some field techs to have positive cash flow while working field jobs, assistance from others in their lives (such as being on a parent’s health insurance plan or using their car) is a big part of making this possible. Without an economic safety net, life as a field tech would be difficult to manage, and this doesn’t account for potentially large expenses such as car repairs or medical bills for those without high quality health insurance.  The term “declining middle class” has become a catchphrase of sorts, but statistics support the contention that the cost of living is rising in relation to income for a large segment of American society. The Pew Research Center reported that 50% of American households in 2021 are classified as middle class, down from 61% fifty years earlier; however, the standard definition of middle class includes household incomes as low as $47,189. Meanwhile, the percentage of American households below middle class increased from 25% to 29% and the aggregate income earned by the middle class was reduced from 62% to 42% in this same time span. Reduced savings and increased credit card debt accompany these growing financial hardships. While the benefits of connection to nature are well-documented (Hartig et al 2014, Lee et al 2022), participating in the potentially expensive pursuit of wildlife watching let alone following a career path as a seasonal field tech can easily be regarded as frivolous and simply unfeasible given these economic realities. Indeed, the change in neighborhood composition which mirrors the overall economic status of its inhabitants is likely to reduce the connection to nature for this shrinking middle and growing lower class. Using Nashville as a case study reflective of national trends, the New York Times reported that the percentage of families living in middle class neighborhoods has shrunk. A study by the Brookings Institution mirrors these findings, reporting that the percentage of middle-income neighborhoods in metropolitan areas declined from 58% to 41% from 1970-2000. Low-income neighborhoods are less likely to have green spaces which would serve as locations where children can develop a connection to nature and wildlife, an important predictor of becoming a biologist. All of this suggests that the available pool of future field technicians is shrinking simply as a result of prevailing economic trends.   While socioeconomic status has a major effect on who’s likely to become a field tech, my observations led me to