Living with Lynx: sharing landscapes with big cats, wolves and bears, by Jonny Hanson (Pelagic, 2025) ISBN: 9781784274955 £20
Reviewed by Dr Chris Gibson FBNA
The whole topic of reintroduction of long-gone (or more specifically long-exterminated) predators fascinates me, and especially since my last years with Natural England, where I was responsible for liaison with the Lynx UK Trust in the run-up to an application for a licence (never granted) to release European Lynx in possibly suitable parts of our country.
I have spent much time in Lynx-country (and indeed the haunt of wolves and bears) on the continent, and seen only signs such as footprints of all three, apart from Brown Bears at an official feeding station. Nor have I expected to. But there is a visceral thrill about stepping into the unknown in the presence of large predators. Would it not be wonderful if we could experience that thrill within our own shores?
Well, many – most, even – of us in BNA might think so. But clearly others don’t necessarily, whether it be the natural prey of those predators, or the farmed equivalents thereof. And importantly, of course, the owners of those agricultural animals. Such questions form the backbone of this book, explored in depth, although I felt generally viewed from the perspective of modifying the predator presence or behaviour to suit the humans, rather than that of modifying the human presence or behaviour to suit the predators. Who was there first?
Nevertheless, the author covers important ground, from a highly informed perspective, in relevant parts of the world. For me, the dense text, lacking illustration and rather few subheads, is not easy to navigate, and I would not therefore turn to it as a manual of how to plan the approach to a large predator re-establishment and management programme.
The text comes to life in those sections where the author adopts a more conversational style, presumably verbatim, with those providing insights from their particular perspectives. As a counterpoint to the densely written passages, this makes for easier reading, though some could find the juxtaposition a little jarring. And again it means that anyone wanting a ‘reintroduction handbook’ might be disappointed: by their very nature conversations are not as information-rich as clearly crafted text.
For me, the most important paragraph is at the top of p. 127, a call to dial down the polarisation between different ‘sides’ in this debate, to employ a more nuanced approach – good advice in so many situations in a world dominated by the soundbite and social media. Unfortunately, ‘walking a mile in their shoes’ takes time, effort, and mutual willingness, all of which slows the whole process up. Which then increases the tendency for ‘guerilla reintroductions’ and the consequent pushback, such that ‘change nothing’ becomes the default.
Turning to the book itself, the cover is lovely, and oozes quality, although I think the production values of what is inside do not live up to that promise: it feels like a paperback in hardback’s clothing. The paper stock is commendably unbleached, but the typeface is for me insufficiently contrasty against the yellowish paper. Add the rather flimsy paper, through which the words from the reverse tend to bleed, those with visual limitations (such as me and my cataracts, at least when I started reading it) may find it hard going. In places, the text appears inexpertly laid out, as for example the single line of a new subsection orphaned at the bottom of p.71. Of course, no ‘blame’ for such things should be laid at the door of the author. And at least it is not a (physically) heavyweight tome, so if you are interested to explore what is a key issue of our nature-depleted times from every possible angle, working through it won’t place too much strain on your arms!
First published by British Naturalists’ Association.
