Wind farms and abuse of statistics: bird edition

When "wind farms are dangerous" really just means "there are a lot of birds".

When dealing with large numbers, it helps to have an idea of the expected order of magnitude. That way, you can know whether it is merely the number which is large, or the thing it's describing as well.

For instance, if I tell you of a country with 140,000 people in long-term unemployment, it's rather important for you to know if I'm talking about the US (population 280 million) or Luxembourg (population 525,000).

That's a test a Spectator article, Wind farms vs wildlife, failed quite badly this week.

The author, Clive Hambler, is a lecturer in biological and human sciences at Oxford university, and quotes a number of statistics to demonstrate how dangerous wind farms are to wildlife. For instance:

Every year in Spain alone — according to research by the conservation group SEO/Birdlife — between 6 and 18 million birds and bats are killed by wind farms. They kill roughly twice as many bats as birds. This breaks down as approximately 110–330 birds per turbine per year and 200–670 bats per year. And these figures may be conservative if you compare them to statistics published in December 2002 by the California Energy Commission: ‘In a summary of avian impacts at wind turbines by Benner et al (1993) bird deaths per turbine per year were as high as 309 in Germany and 895 in Sweden.’

Similar claims are made throughout. Apparently the annual death toll of bats in the US and Canada is "up to three million", "Norwegian wind farms kill over ten white-tailed eagles per year", and so on.

What is missing is any context through which we can examine these numbers. It might change our interpretation of the figures to know that:

Domestic and feral cats have also been considered a major source of anthropogenic-caused mortality with estimates near 100 million annual bird deaths [in the US].

Or that, on roads near wetlands in Canada:

223 birds were killed per mile per year.                                                                                            

Power lines in the US are estimated to kill:

…approximately 130 million birds per year.                                                                                                        

While we're banning things, we may want to keep an eye out for that scourge of the avian world, windows:

97.6 to 976 million bird deaths per year in the U.S. due to collisions with windows… based on an estimated 1 to 10 bird deaths per structure per year from a fatality study in New York.

All those figures come from a 2005 paper by the US Department of Agriculture.

In other words, even with the massive figures from Spain – figures which show deaths per turbine per year two orders of magnitude higher than equivalent figures cited in the above paper, which are based on an assumption that for every confirmed death, there's nineteen uncomfirmed, and which come from a set of guidelines which explicitly concludes wind farms are OK for birds if built correctly (pdf) –  wind farms kill fewer birds than cats, power lines, roads or windows. That comparison would have been rather useful to include in the original piece. With that in mind, the numbers in the piece become less a demonstration of the awesome mortality of wind farms, and more a confirmation that yes, there are a lot of birds in the world.

Update

It's been pointed out on Twitter that I'm not comparing like to like. Spain is smaller than the US, of course. Thankfully, the USDA also estimates the number of birds killed by wind farms in America: between 20,000 and 37,000 a year. I let you draw your own conclusions from the discrepancy.

Wind Turbines in Spain. Photograph: Wikimedia Commons

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times