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The Beaver

The beaver: The official symbol of Canada, the emblem of the railway that helped create a nation and the icon of the northern wilderness.

But its preferred title? Beaver, M.Eng.

And why not? Beavers design, build and maintain our wetland ecosystems.

Which is a fairly important job. After all, 40% of life on Earth lives or breeds or feeds in a wetland – which drives biodiversity which sustains all life.

And seeing as we’ve lost 60% of our wetlands globally, yeah, beavers are kind of helpful.

Once numbering in the high tens, or even hundreds, of millions, their numbers were reduced to roughly a hundred thousand before we clued into the problem – fewer beavers = fewer wetlands.

And though we’re not bad at wetland restoration when we put our backs into it, beavers are better.

How much better?

Let me put it this way: some places got so panicky about the loss of beavers and the cost of rebuilding lost wetlands, that they started parachuting beavers into places where they had disappeared.

Seriously.

Parachuting beavers – your moment of Zen.

Though I’m sure beavers appreciated the sentiment, I suspect they would have preferred if we had just skipped the mass extermination effort and subsequent flying lessons and just let them focus on the work.

Because their work ain’t easy!

Armed with their golden teeth – truly the OGs of urban fashion – and translucent eye lids – take that Michael Phelps – Canada’s largest rodent can cut trees, alter forests and change the flow of water all while building homes that, with apologies to Burj Dubai, are actually bigger than anything we’ve ever created, which sounds destructive. And it is destructive. But in a good way!

Think about this: Their home renovations turn bacteria to nitrates, filtering upwards of 45% of our pollution in some areas.

What about carbon? Beavers trap it in sediment that floats to the bottom of their pools. That, in turn, is what helps this soil store upwards of 40% of carbon found in all soil, even if this type of soil equates to less than 5% of soil found in the world.

Which is 

helpful.

It’s almost as helpful as storing – and releasing – water.

Beaver ponds are so well designed – I mean, we’re talking world-class engineers here – the weight of their pools push up to ten times the water you see underneath the wetlands they call home. That helps manage water flow in places like Mount Robson – helping store, say, water produced by melting snow rather than, say, flooding areas downstream. Like Vancouver! It also means in times of drought, beaver ponds can release that stored water, which helps the rodents, but also people trying to grow food downstream. Like in Vancouver!

So, yeah, it’s good beavers keep themselves busy.

And, look, maybe you don’t love beavers because you don’t want them getting busy cutting down trees in your backyard, which is fair. But keep this in mind. Those trees you love in your neighbourhood? The beavers made them possible too.

In creating their ponds, beavers ensure forests aren’t just dominated by specific species of tree; they create tree diversity that sustains other types of diversity – and other very important things, like trees that change colour in the fall and make for great TikTok backdrops. 

This isn’t to say beavers do this work alone. I mean, what engineer does? Behind every great engineer, as the saying goes, stands a moose. Or is it husband? Whatever, you get the picture.

Beavers are effective because other animals, like moose, ensure they have a steady supply of sweet, sweet wood to build their wetlands, and because of wolves, according to recent studies, help direct beavers to where their services are most needed by moving – moving? Urging? Killing? Whatever-ing – them away from areas where they’re no longer wanted. For the beaver, that may not necessarily be better than the parachute, but it’s certainly more effective for nature.

And when beavers are effective, they’re saving our economy billions with a b.

When we give them a helping hand – learn to coexist with these tubby little tail-slappers – we allow this engineer to be so much more than a joke, or a symbol, or a history lesson, but a true keystone species that helps sustains life on Earth.