Not so SmartRivers

I’m inclined to the opinion that biologists should be banned from using statistics. The practice of drawing inferences from gathered data is full of pitfalls; those who collect and analyse data on fish and river fly life seem especially prone to stumbling into them. Such data have many potential shortcomings and limitations as I pointed out in a previous post, yet to read the reports from the Riverfly Partnership and SmartRivers (part of Wildfish) you’d think the gods themselves were illuminating our understanding. Sadly not. We know the condition of our rivers is deteriorating and we know broadly the reasons: sewage, agriculture and now noxious pharmaceuticals, some from our own bodies. No fly monitoring needed to tell us that.

If all the long-term fly monitoring were able to tell us whether things are obviously improving or getting worse that would be useful. My attention has lately been drawn to some news regarding the Hampshire Avon. Apparently monitoring has revealed a steep decline in bugs over the last ten years. Numbers don’t lie, do they? No, and nor do statistics, but misusers of statistics can present us with questionable or false conclusions which the data just don’t support.

In the report SmartRivers claims that fly life on the Hampshire Avon has declined over the last ten years. There is little argument that aquatic fly life has fallen in most if not all rivers in the country, but this started well before the last decade. Still, if this slide in populations is continuing, we should know about it.  So what does this report actually tell us? One of the problems of these reports, and those which appear in the Wild Trout Trust annual, Salmo Trutta, concerns the kind of publication they’re trying to be. Technical research paper or report for a general readership? They end up being neither. Jargon is scattered throughout together with some rather slapdash analysis, certainly not up to journal standard (and as far as I’m aware, the content of this report has not been published elsewhere). So not a science paper but not a read for the layman either. The technical references to inferential statistics put paid to that.

As often the case, the statistical testing is applied rather automatically without much attention paid to the obvious features of the data. One of the reasons is that computer packages allow the copious production of statistical calculations at a click rather than the hours of laborious work once necessary. Another is that all the other biologists are doing it. The main purpose of such tests is to decide whether what you see in the data is telling you something important or is just a fluke of sampling. The thinner the sampling, the more likely the result is down to chance. Riverfly sampling is pretty thin. Here a handful of sites are sampled twice a year. Quoting a figure called a p-value, a probabilistic measure widely misused, is not sufficient to decide whether the Avon fly population has gone down since 2015.

The observed changes are clearest in the graph below, taken from the report. The text will be hard to follow for most; even some abbreviations go undefined.

Whether the spring and the (usually lower) autumn counts should appear on the same graph is open to question. But what is clear is that 2015 counts are higher than 2024. The straight lines fitted to the data points suggest a steady decline, except that the actual figures do not really show this. Counts were obviously higher in 2015 than subsequent years. If anything, the data suggest a cyclic component to the observed counts. Remove the 2015 figures and suddenly the decline vanishes, or at least becomes a lot less clear. The Environment Agency noted this feature of the data but the report’s authors respond that ‘this is simply the dataset we have’. Hardly a justification for the conclusion they draw. If they had looked at the appropriate statistical figures, they should have concluded that evidence for decline in riverflies these last ten years is weak at best. The biologist’s best analysis tool is their eyeballs.

Why are the 2015 figures higher? We don’t know. Maybe it was a good year for fly, or maybe the sampling was more thorough. There are data going back further in the Riverfly database, so I’ve pulled out these graphs for the Avon, though as you’ll see from the four riverfly abundances, regular sampling only began around 2010, and probably was less regular then.

You can see the seasonal variation, and there is some evidence of cyclicity over the years. But is there any long-term trend? You decide.

Data from Riverfly.org

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The AST’s Head of Waffle

Just over ten years ago, David Graeber, an anthropologist, wrote an article about ‘bullshit jobs’, which he defines as those which are engaged in unproductive work — clerical, administrative, advertising and the like. My favourite candidate for a bullshit job is PR or, as it’s more often called these days, communication. Just about every organisation seems to have someone in a job of this kind, including those to do with fishing, the Atlantic Salmon Trust for example, whose Head of Communications is Jonathon Muir. This is part of how he describes his job

Key to restoring the species [salmon] at scale and pace is by delivering landscape-scale solutions to land managers and policymakers, in addition to harnessing nature-positive finance and philanthropic funding within the corporate sector, using wild salmon as a keystone focus species within efforts to tackle the wider twin crisis of climate change and biodiversity loss.

Heads of communication clearly have a different way of communicating than the rest of us. ‘Landscape-scale solutions’? ‘Nature-positive finance’? Muir must spend much of his time weaving meaningless phrases from a dictionary of corporate gobbledygook. But he’s also written a piece for the Soapbox section in the September issue of Trout & Salmon, a rather Pollyannaish plea for ‘positivity’. Of course the words positive and negative are much bandied about these days, especially by lovers of obtuse language: negative is frequently used to describe someone who holds a different point of view, positive for those who have the same. According to Muir ‘We owe it to future generations of wild salmon lovers . . . to be relentlessly positive . . .’. When you consider that the Atlantic salmon population has crashed in most rivers either side of the Ocean, never mind the rapid disappearance of numerous other animal and plant species worldwide, the sixth mass extinction, it is hard to know what he means. Certainly lapsing into despair will not get us out of the environmental mess of our own making, but frittering away time on fruitless projects, as I believe the Atlantic Salmon Trust is doing, is not cause for optimism. Jonathon Muir seems to personify that foot-dragging.

To give him his due, he does refer to illegal exploitation in the T&S article, which is the first mention I’ve seen from anyone in the AST. The trouble is he is part of the ‘slow pace of action’ and telling us all to cheer up will do nothing to help. Indeed it may even give anglers an excuse to carry on with their own polluting ways — driving high-emission 4 by 4s (does JM own one?), flying around the world for fishing jollies, as encouraged by the magazines Trout & Salmon and Fly Culture among others. Anglers have a nasty habit of laying the blame anywhere but their own doorstep.

In the interests of giving the AST impetus, perhaps I can help Jonny redraft his job description, and that of all the AST employees:

Find out what’s killing the salmon. Take action to prevent it. And be quick about it.

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