California Birds: The Newest, The Next, and The Blocked

While the occurrence of many rarities can be predicted, some just seem to fly in from left field. Earlier this fall, one Adam Searcy found himself entombed in a deep and birdless fog on top of Southeast Farallon Island. The last thing he expected was a first state record to Kermadec Petrel to uncloak itself and make a couple passes before heading back out to sea. What will be the next bird to join the ranks of California's long and lovely state list? Photo by Adam Searcy.

California. With 665 species on the official state list tenderly and affectionately curated by the California Bird Records Committee (CBRC), California has the largest state list in the country. This has been made by possible not only from California's size, but because of its habitat diversity and unique location; species from the Old World, the far north, central and eastern North America, Mexico, and all over the Pacific make their way here on a regular basis. To give you a sample of the sometimes bizarre diversity of birds California gets, my last five state birds were Red-footed Booby, Eastern Wood-Pewee, Scarlet Tanager, Parakeet Auklet and Woodhouse's Scrub-Jay. Sometimes (like when I wrote the previous sentence) I feel extraordinarily lucky to be a birder here. But just like birders everywhere, I am sometimes left wondering what will be next? What mega will leave me in utter shock and disbelief?What is the next bird that will set off statewide episodes of catatonic grip-off?

Maybe if we take a look at the newest species the CBRC has accepted to the state list, that will give us an inkling of rarities to come. Beginning with the most recent additions, they are:

1. Buff-breasted Flycatcher
2. Purple Sandpiper
3. Kelp Gull
4. Common Scoter
5. Tundra Bean-Goose
6. Salvin's Albatross
7. Nazca Booby
8. Marsh Sandpiper
9. Common Swift
10. Great Black-backed Gull

Recent, well-documented sightings of Kermadec and Jouanin's Petrels, Band-rumped Storm-Petrel, and Eurasian Wryneck are likely to be accepted by the CBRC as well.

I think \these additions are a good representative sample of our vagrant composition - on the continent, California is the best state/province for seabird diversity, hands down, so it makes sense that so many of our recent state additions are ocean wanderers. We also get more Old World species than any state outside of Alaska (usually "Sibes" found in eastern Russia), so the goose and Marsh Sandpiper fit in with that pattern; the scoter and swift were shocking though. Great Black-backed Gull is a bird that seemed inevitable, but Kelp Gull was comparatively surprising - this Southern Hemisphere resident is rare north of Ecuador, so it is fitting that the bird that visited California (and seen in multiple counties!) was found by a gull expert who also spends lots of time south of the equator. With past records of Belcher's and Swallow-tailed Gulls, the Kelp Gull record does fit into a pattern of sorts.

A spring overshoot Buff-breasted Flycatcher really caught us with our collective pants down, but California does bring in a modest number of migrants/vagrants from Mexico or even further south - for example, Greater Pewees, Dusky-capped Flycatchers, Tropical Kingbirds, Painted Redstarts, Grace's and Red-faced Warblers all occur with some regularity. Purple Sandpiper was a longshot to get here and a longshot to identify correctly due to the presence of Rock Sandpipers, but since it first appeared at a very unusual location (the Salton Sea), suspicious birders were able to eventually able to identify it correctly.

So with those birds in mind, what are the next state firsts? In no particular order, here are my Top 10:

1. Taiga Bean-Goose - Many birders believe that there has already been a well-documented bird in the state, but it was ultimately accepted (not without controversy) by the CBRC as Taiga/Tundra Bean-Goose. Luckily I did not see this bird (after trying and dipping for days on end) so I don't have to attempt to come to terms with that label. Anyways, a Taiga Bean-Goose will eventually be sucked in to the California vagrant vortex and provide redemption for us all. Or the record will be recirculated.

2. Arctic Warbler or Kamchatka Leaf Warbler - Ok, this is two species, so I might be cheating, but hear me out...before these species were split, California had a number of Arctic Warbler records. Of course, once they were split, the CBRC realized that they could not prove with complete confidence which species were involved with any particular record, which at present even includes this bird (left) that was in hand on Southeast Farallon Island. Vocalizations are the key. Only a couple months ago, an Arctic/Kamchatka Leaf Warbler was seen in San Luis Obispo County, but frustratingly never called. Photo by Dan Maxwell.

3. Juan Fernandez Petrel - Honestly, this entire list could be comprised of tubenoses and it would be pretty reasonable still, but that is boring so I'm just going to pick one. It is bizarre that Arizona would get a species of seabird before California, but birds do bizarre things, particularly when hurricanes are involved.

4.Olive warbler - As with tubenoses and Sibes, there are many vagrant candidates from Mexico. It was tough to settle on one, but for my Mexico pick I'm going to draft Olive Warbler, which are actually found with regularity in the mountains of western Arizona, intriguingly close to the state line. Olive Warblers are not long-distance migrants prone to overshoots, but they are close by, migratory, and easy to identify. There also should not be any provenance issues with this species.

5. Siberian Accentor - There are a number of scattered records north of California, and this species will come to feeders.  It's also one of the most distinctive Sibes we can possibly get; most birders will know that an accentor is, at the very least, something special when it pops up in front of them; the same can't be said about many of the other Sibe passerines. I'm waiting for one to put in an appearance in the northern half of the state (hopefully not on Southeast Farallon Island).

6. Gray-streaked Flycatcher - Not as obvious as a Siberian Accentor, but again, certainly a species that would stand out more than some other Sibes that could potentially occur. Common Sandpiper looks like Spotted Sandpiper, Temnick's Stint looks like Least Sandpiper, snipes look like grass, Phylloscopus warblers look like each other and stay hidden, Pechora Pipit looks like Red-throated Pipit...you get my drift. Most California birders would not be able to identify a Gray-streaked Flycatcher reflexively, but a lot of us would at least be able to call it an Old World flycatcher and go from there.

7. Black-tailed Godwit - Gotta have a shorebird in here. Despite being a fairly regular migrant in Alaska, this is not a bird showing up anywhere on the west coast south of there. Yet. California happens to be a lovely place to migrate through, if you can get past all the Peregrines.

8. Acadian Flycatcher - Like a certain warbler that dwells in the east, I don't think there is any reason one of these will not be found in California - we have records of pretty much every other eastern neotropical migrant. They are a common and broadly-distributed bird through much of the eastern U.S., and one is destined for the California state list. Maybe a vocalizing bird at Butterbredt in a future spring? Caught in a mist net on Southeast Farallon Island? The Acadian above was photographed on South Padre Island, TX.

9. Swainson's Warbler - I think we are going to get one. I feel strongly about this...it's just a matter of time. Their powers of skulk are not to be underestimated, but California is due for this bird. If we can get a Golden-cheeked Warbler, we can get a Swainson's. This is BB&B's official position on the matter.


10. Red-bellied Woodpecker - Probably not on a lot of people's radar, but even Oregon has a recent record. A bird particularly stricken with wanderlust could make its way to one of the northernmost counties. 

How about some wildcard honorable mentions that are really against the odds? Pure speculative fiction? It doesn't hurt to prepare for Waved Albatross, Gray Heron, Eurasian Hobby, Brown Noddy, or Rose-throated Becard.

What do you think? Am I crazy? What's on your Top 10? I'm sure I'm missing an obvious bird or two. But we're not done yet...almost as drool-worthy as the new state additions are the blockers - birds that have occurred in the past, often repeatedly, but have been absent for so long that newer birders never got to see them. There are a great many species that belong on this list, but to make it more interesting I omitted the birds with only a single record (i.e. White-tailed Tropicbird, Greater Sand-Plover) or were not chaseable (e.g. Ringed Storm-Petrel, Least Auklet, Buff-collared Nightjar). Oh, and I have not seen any of these species in the state.

1. Whooper Swan - There are a modest 11 accepted state records, but just one in the last 10 years. What gives? My Sibe intuition tells me that one will show up again sooner than later.

2. Baikal Teal - Few waterfowl can wonderfully assault the eyes with the force of a male Baikal Teal. There are 7 records, one in the last 10 years...I believe that bird (in Humboldt) was shot, if I recall correctly. Seeing one of these would only feed the Sibe Fever I've been suffering from for years now, but that is a risk I am willing to take.

3. Streaked Shearwater - With 18 accepted records, it's safe to say that Streaked Shearwater was considered a regular bird in California for some time. However, there have been none since 2008, even though there are now more pelagic trips than ever. What happened? Hopefully population declines won't keep them away for good.

4. Anhinga - Five accepted records...but again, no records in the last 10 years. Unlike Streaked Shearwaters, there are a lot of Anhingas to go around, and their return to California is overdue. I'm looking at you, Imperial, Riverside and San Diego counties, to make this dream a reality.

5. Eurasian Dotterel - Want to know something odd? When I was a young birder, I always thought I would see a dotterel in California one day. That said, no one has ever said adolescents have a very well developed ability to see into the future. Not only has this not happened, there has only been one in California seen this century, which was never reported to the public. I'm still waiting patiently for this bird, my favorite plover that I have never seen and a bird that just generally makes me froth at the mouth.

6. Bristle-thighed Curlew - There are two accepted records from 1998, an invasion year, when this species appeared all over the Pacific Northwest. Two other reports from that time period were considered "credible" but were unaccepted. This species could easily slip by undetected - most birders would not know if they were looking at one. My understanding is that these birds arrived on our shores as a result of unusual Pacific weather patterns...the perfect storm for Bristle-thighed Curlews. With enough sacrifices to the bird gods (in the form of cats?), maybe one will blow our way in May, 2018. The birds above were photographed on Midway Atoll.

7. Steller's Eider - Three records from the state, including two wintering birds that were seen by many. The most recent accepted record in California is from 1992. I long to meet this exotic northerner. Past records were in Del Norte, Humboldt and Sonoma counties, and those are all perfectly good places to look for another. Del Norte County actually has records of three eider species!

8. Red-headed Woodpecker - Though declining in some areas, this bird is still fairly common in much of the country, but the last accepted record for the state is from 2000. If one of these popped up in the state right now (which could seemingly happen anywhere), there is no doubt in my mind that birders would go absolutely apeshit.

9. Violet-crowned Hummingbird - It's time for California to get another earth-shaking hummingbird species, and I think this bird is ready for a triumphant return. There are 6 records, none in the last 10 years. Xantus's Hummingbird may be a more classic blocker (I was too young to see the one in Ventura, though at the time I lived only a few minutes away!), but I would be pleasantly stunned if a Violet-crowned did not reappear here first. The bird above was photographed in Florida Canyon in southeast Arizona.

10. Black Rosy-Finch - It hasn't been that long since the state has had one of these cripplers, but how many California birders are looking at rosy-finches in winter? Hardly any. Out of all the species mentioned in this post, this one seems most likely to be found far away from population centers. Predictably, the last records are from Aspendell, and the next record may come from there as well.

11. Eastern Yellow Wagtail - I was going to stop at ten, but I 'm really feeling this one. Migrants of this species are very much expected on a number of Alaskan islands, and they breed on mainland Alaska. No wagtail this fall...yet...but sticking with our theme, it's been ten years, and I don't think it will be much longer.

If you've made it this far, thanks for nerding out with me. I know this read was intense, prolonged, and most of all, genuine. I'll end it all on this note...if I could have gotten this post out a couple weeks ago, Sedge Wren would have been #1 on the blocker list, but freaking Adam "Kermadec Petrel" Searcy just found and photographed this one on Santa Barbara Island. Ugh.

The Fall of the Bird Police: Death by EBird?

The Crescent City Common Scoter, a jaw-dropping rarity and first North American record. Do I have it an eBird checklist?  Yes.  Did I send a report to the Bird Police?  No.  Are these things connected?  Read on.

Earlier this month, frequent Bird Policeman for the California Bird Records Committee (CBRC) and beloved birding legend Kimball Garrett wrote the following email to the local L.A. listserv:

L. A. Birders, 

In corresponding with CBRC Secretary Tom Benson, I learned that he has received documentation for the Thick-billed Kingbird in Horsethief Canyon Park in San Dimas this past winter ONLY from a single observer on 22 November 2014. Yet eBird records indicate that the bird was found on 15 November and seen by dozens to at least 3 January 2015. Many eBird submissions during that period were accompanied by photographs and/or descriptions. 

Similarly, the Worm-eating Warbler at The Village Green, seen by approximately 23,687 people, was documented for the CBRC by only three submitters. Yet there were about 125 eBird entries, many with good photos and other documentation. 

This is (yet) another plea for observers to submit documentation for CBRC review species to the committee for review, even if you know that many other observers also saw the bird. First, you might be surprised by how little documentation the CBRC receives even for long-staying mega-rarities. Second, your added documentation can provide crucial information about changes in appearance (e.g. through molt) and behavior of rarities, and can provided important information on phenology by helping to pin down the date spans over which they are present. Finally, and most importantly, the CBRC maintains a thorough and permanent archive of rare bird records for California, and your submissions become part of that archive. Photos on photo-sharing sites (such as Flickr) that are linked to eBird submissions may not be there in a decade, or a year, or even next week. 

Yes, the eBird folks are working on a more permanent way of archiving documentation photos, video and audio, and the ways in which records committees, North American Birds editors, and eBird users interact will clearly evolve over time. But at present the laudable emphasis in the birding community on eBird has unfortunately translated to a vast reduction in direct submissions to the CBRC. 

Well...what do you think?  Kimball is certainly not condemning eBird in any way, but is eBird really behind the drop in record submissions to California's Bird Police?  Is there a direct correlation between the rise in eBird use and the decline of reporting to the Bird Police?  Being the nation's #7 birder, as ranked by the Global Birder Ranking System, this issue is of great interest to me.  Some thoughts:

- While eBird is not a permanent place for documenting bird records, it is ostensibly pretty close. EBird is not going anywhere anytime soon.  If you put something in eBird, it is going to stay there for as long eBird is around, which will probably be for a very long time.  That said, like any website, it is vulnerable to hacking.  Can you imagine what would happen if a disgruntled birder (and there are a lot of those) acquired some hacking skills? Or, much more likely, if Flickr got hacked?  Yeesh. Observers can delete their checklists at any time. Photographers can delete their photos at any time. We must give the Bird Police some attention.  But am I ever going to be deleting/hiding my eBird records and my photos?  Nope.

San Francisco's long-staying Rustic Bunting was seen by hordes of birders, I suspect well over 1,000.  I wondered how many folks submitted documentation to the CBRC, so I checked.  The answer is ten (10).  I wonder how many birders even thought about submitting documentation to the CBRC...  

- An eBird reviewer may make the incorrect decision of negating an observation of a very rare bird; eBird reviewers, after all, often do not have the credentials of your average Bird Police Officer and they are only one birder.  Conversely, there is no doubt that misidentified rarities slip through the cracks and make their way into eBird.  When an eBird reviewer thinks they personally have found a rarity, you can be sure that they will get it into eBird, whether it was correctly identified or not.  All birders are fallible. Princess Leia's classic line comes to mind: "I am not a committee!".

- A huge proportion of the birding community do not care about submitting documentation to the Bird Police, regardless of experience, age and skill.  There are a multitude of reasons for this, and it has nothing to do with eBird.  I'm not dissing the Bird Police here, just stating fact.

- I've been birding for over 20 years now, and I am comfortable saying that there are more birders now than ever before...which means there are more new birders than ever before.  Shouldn't that automatically translate to more love for the Bird Police?  Well, no.  Newer birders generally do not concern themselves with submitting records to the Bird Police.  They often lack the skills and the confidence to submit records, and it probably does not seem like a high priority for them if they are still struggling finding and seeing comparatively common birds.  And if they associate with other birders who don't submit documentation either, then they won't be doing it any time soon; it's just not in their culture, so to speak.

This is one of two (2) Rusty Blackbirds I have ever seen, both of which fall under the jurisdiction of the CBRC.  I've yet to see one where they actually belong, though I have a chance next month!  Photographed in Santa Cruz County, CA.

- One thing that eBird is great for, in terms of rarities, is documenting exactly how long a rarity is being seen at a particular site.  The Bird Police, as far as I know, has no good mechanism for this; they just hope birders will keep on submitting records for an (usually) already well-documented bird. I suspect it is a common situation in which a records committee will receive a small number of records of an individual Vague Runt that may actually be seen over a span of weeks or months.  Do the Bird Police completely ignore the data that is readily available on eBird about the dates the bird was really being seen for?  I suspect it depends on which department (er, state) we are talking about.

- I will readily admit that I was one of those birders who eBirded the Thick-billed Kingbird mentioned above, but did not send a record to the Bird Police.  For posterity, here is my description: "Heard only by Dan Maxwell and myself.  Originally heard from a great distance in the housing tract west of the park making short, 2 or 3 note calls that I was not familiar with that sounded similar to a Cassin's Kingbird. Eventually the bird came considerably closer, and once clearly and loudly uttered a single series of distinct and varied calls that Western (extremely unlikely to be present here during this season), Tropical and Cassin's Kingbirds are incapable of making; Thick-billed Kingbird has much more variability (and sometimes, melody?) in their vocalizations than any of these species, which we clearly could discern.  Identification was confirmed by checking recorded vocalizations on site. We lingered in the area but we never heard the bird again."

That's it.  That's all I've got.  I would never in a million years send this to the Bird Police had I not known that a Thick-billed Kingbird was present on site, and I feel that follow-up reports should bear the depth worthy of accepting the record as if it were a first-time sighting...or at least have a decent photo/recording of the bird.  I am 100% sure we heard the Thick-billed Kingbird, but let's face it, my description sucks!  Would it really get accepted? Does it belong in the annals of Bird Police History? I think that when you yourself would strongly consider rejecting your own record (and I am #7!), that is a valid reason for not offering your observation to the Bird Police.

- I think there is a very strong case for claiming that birders will use eBird instead of notifying birders of notable species via listserv or RBA or North American Birds, you won't get any argument from me there.  I'm guilty of that myself, though I don't consider myself a chronic offender.

- Birders are generally unaware that when hundreds or thousands of people see a review bird, almost no one is submitting documentation to the Bird Police.  Kimball was right to bring this up; it is not a widely-known fact.  Even some Bird Police will neglect to submit documentation of committee birds that someone else found, and they know full well about this problem.

This is the famous Monterey Arctic Loon, which wintered near the Municipal Wharf and was relatively easy to see, unlike the other members of its species I've seen in the Aleutian Islands. Querying the CBRC database, I found out that the first Arctic Loon I chased (unsuccessfully) years ago ended up being rejected by the committee...good to know, and I'm glad that information is available online.  Bird Police departments everywhere should do their best to maintain an active online presence; I think it's good for all of us.

So the real question is this: how often do birders submit their sightings to eBird as a direct substitute for submitting documentation to the Bird Police?  Despite appearances, I believe this happens relatively rarely. When I enter a record of a committee bird into eBird, that does not mean that I would have sent the CBRC documentation had I not been an eBird user, and I think that the same applies for thousands of other birders.  I do not make the conscious decision to submit a photo or description of a review to bird an eBird checklist as a direct substitute for sending it to the Bird Police. Personally speaking, when I don't submit documentation of a review species, but know that I should, it's almost always because I know that other Bird Police officers have seen the bird. Part of their sworn duties as Bird Police are to submit documentation of review species they see, amirite?  As Kimball said, I suppose one should never assume that a rarity is being packaged up, sealed, and sent to the Bird Police's evidence room for safe keeping.  All birders, even the Bird Police, are fallible, and all but the most demented of us have tendencies of laziness.

EBird has brought countless rarities and birds of interest to the public sphere that likely would never have seen the light of day otherwise.  As others have pointed out, there are a lot of birders who utilize eBird who do not contribute to listservs or RBAs at all, let alone bend the knee to the Bird Police.  By now, many thousands of birders owe something to eBird, whether they are active users or not.  The Bird Police are going to have to start incorporating eBird data sooner or later; it is truly the elephant in the Bird Police Station. Exactly how this unfolds will be fun to watch.

Thank you for all your hard work officers, for keeping us safe from the stringers and the sketchy birders.  And thank you, eBird, for being god's gift to birders...you seem to be winning the popularity contest.  If you are one of those people who do pledge allegiance to the Bird Police, at least once in a while, we would like to hear your take on all of this, and obviously if you are a Sworn Officer of the Birding Law, we need to hear from you.  Despite appearances, your birders need you...now, more than ever.

"Caution Is Always Warranted": A Conversation on Bird Policing with Officer Adam Searcy

The Human Birdwatcher Project ("Birders are people too!") is happy to bring you another soon-to-be-legendary interview, this time with one of the most powerful and mysterious people in world of birding. That's right: today, you will be hearing from a real live member of the Bird Police.

Officer Adam Searcy is a current member of the California Bird Records Committee (CBRC), which of course is California's Bird Police department. After he went through the CBRC's rite of passage (which consists of murdering and stuffing 6 Barn Owls in one night), Officer Searcy was granted the power to break a birder's spirit when he votes to reject their submission of a rare bird record; conversely, with a vote to accept, Officer Searcy can permit a birder's wildest dreams to come true. During his brief reign of power, he has already been dogged by rumors of accepting drugs, cash, and particularly heinous sex acts in order to vote to accept certain records; but despite the merciless birder rumor mill, none of these allegations have been proven, and no senior Bird Police members have moved to impeach. As long as BB&B did not bring any of this up, Officer Searcy was kind enough to sit down for a very deep interview that covers everything from the CBRC to his intensely secret personal birding life. Today we cover the side of Officer Searcy that is all things Bird Police.

BB&B: You are a bird policeman. How did that come to pass? What is it like to protect and serve the birding community?

Officer Searcy: I wake up every day surprised at the position I hold.  It boggles my mind, daily, right before breakfast, then it slowly sinks in—but I wake up the next day and it starts all over again at boggled.  I somehow convinced a group of old men (and one younger woman and some Mexican kid ) that I was capable of correctly identifying rare birds and meting out punishment to the birding community for mis-identifying the same rare birds.  I expected my nomination to pass without incident (i.e., without consequence, i.e., without my getting on to the committee.)  The fact that Jon Dunn and other luminaries were convinced not to veto my appointment is astounding (if vetoes are even allowed).  If The Godfather could have vetoed me, I’m sure that he would have.  I hear that my tardiness in record submission was pointedly mentioned...

What is it like to be a bird policeperson—to protect and to serve—I’m glad you asked me that question, Steve.  It’s basically like being a non-bird policeperson, but minus the weapons, chick-magnet uniform, and relevant authority—and with a very different beat.  Paperwork—it boils down to reading lots of reports and looking at lots of photographs.  Most difficult for me has been the fear that I am going to accept something only to find that the record goes 8-1 and I was the only idiot that misidentified a bird in a photograph—cue derisive laughter from Dunn, Pyle, McCaskie, et al.  Drown in tears—resign committee position—hara-kiri. That sort of thing.

Officer Searcy, being a hot-shit birder, found Cave Swallows at the Salton Sea last winter. The Global Birder Ranking System awarded him a fantastic 30 points, and the California birderscape has not been the same since. Photo by Officer Searcy.

Interpreting photos is huge; the identification of birds in photos is an acquired skill that many birders neither have nor cultivate, and one which is essential, obviously, in evaluating records. And that shit can be really hard (I hate public photo quizzes).  For example: a recent Hawaiian Petrel record had one photo that I immediately decided was a Cookilaria—only to find that Peter Pyle had also thought this. Specifically, he thought it might be a Black-winged Petrel, a bird I could not have named without reference consultation.

I smell the Two Bird Theory coming.

The photographer (thank God) had taken several photos—all of the others clearly showed a Dark-rumped Petrel—and had taken this photo within that sequence.  Others present confirmed that there was one bird. The lighting in this one photo was so fucked up that it turned this thing into a totally different animal.  A cautionary tale?  Yes.  Caution is always warranted.

We must proceed with caution, forever and always. Reckless birding can lead to felony vagrant misidentification.

My least favorite aspect of being a birding "official" is the fear that I am going to go birding when there are a bunch of people around and have someone ask a question about a particular ID challenge. I turn and have neither Jon Dunn nor Oscar Johnson nor any memory of relevant field marks applicable to the case at hand (I have had situations close to this actually occur).  I used to be able to ignore people when they asked such questions—now I feel obligated to provide an accurate and somewhat intelligent answer.  Fuck.  I guess this is what forces you to learn how to better teach bird identification, which (they say) makes you better at identifying birds.

What can California birders expect from the current bird police? How long will they insist on pointless descriptions when crushing photos are obtained? Many birders are looking to you to crack down on the epidemic of horrible misidentifications of rare birds.

The current crowd is really the same crowd that has been voting on birds for decades— a few names have changed, some surgeries have been performed, but that's about it—I look to the recent past to guess how they will act/react/vote, and have used past records to inform my own philosophy on such sticky situations as "seagull" ID.  I am still scrabbling about trying to come up with a personal voting philosophy—I have found that it's hard to standardize one's voting habits.  Some days I think we should burn all records that don't have diagnostic photographs.  Other days I want to accept everything.  I blame the lunar cycle.

I agree that the written description insistence is ridiculous; however, I think what most members are actually insisting on is some written context for photographs, which I support.  This can be a simple description describing lighting conditions, time of day, details regarding optics and anything not obvious in the photos. This can be invaluable in interpreting weird looking pictures (N.B.—I have seen relevant written details ignored completely even when they describe aspects of the bird that are not visible in the photo...).



Nothing interrupts my sleep like the perpetuation of a fucking misidentified bird.  I hate it (see photo at left - SS).  I understand/accept/commit in-the-moment mistakes—they are embarrassing, but inevitable and not uncommon: everyone makes them (e.g., just the other day, a sandpiper of common occurrence was identified as a sandpiper of slightly-less-common occurrence by one "Don Mastwell"—similarly, several months ago, I called a Whimbrel a Long-billed Curlew—in front of Felonious mother-fucking Jive, no less!).  Such mistakes are usually corrected very quickly, either by another birder or by later photo examination, or by anyone who can tell the three species of phalaropes apart.  These are trivial things—non-trivial is when someone “sees” a bird that they insist was a rarity even after the photos are examined (“I photographed the wrong bird” and other tripe) or after other birders search for and find a suggestive individual of a more common species.   Thankfully, no such "records" scar my past—anyone who thinks otherwise is welcome to come forward*.


*(Officer Searcy was heard to mutter something like "if they want to be destroyed" under his breath at this point)

No one knows what really goes on at bird committee meetings. Are there hooded cloaks and sacrifices? Does everyone call Guy McCaskie "Godfather"? Are you even allowed to look him in the eye?

Star Wars, Episode IV, top-level meeting on The Death Star:  Darth Vader uses The Force and makes a dude spit what appears to be a raw egg onto the table before Admiral Tarkin stops him.  It’s similar to that scene, but without uniforms.  And no Admiral Tarkin.

I have only been to one meeting but I expect it was somewhat representative.  Birds are a major topic of conversation.  By-laws are mentioned frequently, and sometimes physically consulted (although Dunn has them just about memorized).

Fascinating and unexpected.

I can't talk details without fear of severe punitive measures at the next meeting.

Guy definitely holds power—he is intimately involved with everything, except voting.  But he has a hell of a lobbying position as secretary.  He is also an invaluable asset.  Constant constructive and frequently hilarious commentary.  If anyone has been birding with him, they know what I mean.  He's a very quick witted and very funny man.  His eventual descent from the position of Secretary will be a serious blow to the committee. To answer the last part of your question: you can glance him in the eye—looking is too much.

Some birders have a deep mistrust for the bird police, for a number of reasons. There even appears to be a sort of divide in the birding community; those who worship the bird police like gods and those who think the bird police rule with a sort of right-wing, heavy and atavistic hand. What do you think have been some of the worst miscues of bird committees in the past? What could the nation's bird police departments be doing better? 

I’m glad you brought this question to the table, Seagull—it's important stuff.  Committee relevance is something over which the birding community is in total control—if people neglect to submit records, The Committee quickly becomes irrelevant.  The Committee must strive to engage the birding community in a positive give/take relationship.  I feel that most of the hostility (God that’s funny—hostility within the birding community) stems from a few cases regarding sensitive records and individuals (peruse Muscivora records for one prime example) —but I could be wrong.  It is definitely a top-down relationship and can appear heavy-handedly atavistic (a word I cherish, especially as an insult—excellent usage, Steve—perhaps you should have consulted for TPAD), especially to young/new members of the community.

Unfortunately but necessarily, individuals must be evaluated alongside their records (especially single observer records and especially single observer sight records).  If the Committee blindly reviewed any photo sent to them without knowing anything about an individual and their reputation, then we could be accepting some egregious shit.  All you need is a picture of a White-collared Swift against blue sky and you can send it in and say you took it over a shopping center in Ridgecrest.  Identifying individuals who accrue long-term and consistent patterns of wackiness (lots of rarities that are not photographed and which no one else sees, etc.) is necessary—the tricky part comes in determining what this wackiness means—is the observer out birding alone 8+ hours 286 days per year (and actually seeing all of this wacky shit)?  Or are they out 24 days a year, magically happening upon mega-shit (i.e., actually seeing none of this wacky shit)?

Officer Searcy with Don Mastwell, a shorebird expert well-known for his expansive and cunning use of vocabulary. Sandals are one of the few required components of the Bird Police uniform. 

In these cases, Committee members must rely on their own relationships with observers and what they can gather from other members and from the whole birding community.  This can be a difficult path to tread—bad blood can boil over into reviewing what would otherwise be a straightforward record, and toes can easily be bloodily crushed into oblivion.  The risk with conservative voting is that valid records might be rejected due to opinions/rumors/facts about personal character and trustworthiness—but this is better than promiscuous voting which might result in sleep-interrupting shit records being perpetuated.  It's simply a dangerous business, policing the birding world.

What could we be doing better...Lots more than I am going to write about here.  Communication, namely (but far from limited to) the following: better outreach and education regarding The Committee's purposes and methods, the actual “fate” of records, and Committee decision’s bearing on individuals and individual lists.  If Felonious Jive is convinced that he saw a Little Stint and the committee is not convinced, he can still count it on his state list, county list, etc., the consequences to his reputation be damned (I am aware that this could be an issue if one is closely vying for a top spot in a global (e.g., GBRS), state or local listing category—but this is rare).  I'm not being naive here—I know that most birders take it as a personal assault on their abilities when a record is rejected.

In most cases it neither is nor should be an assault on the individual, but rather an interpretation of what the individual noted and how they noted it (whether that notation was sketches, a written description, photos, or all of these).  The Committee needs to be sure that decisions are shown to be addressing the record, with the caveat that an individual's reputation and past history are essential to an interpretive framework regarding any record.

Right, which is where the Global Birder Ranking System comes in to play.

For me, it boils down to this—If there are any doubts about a bird’s identity, records committees should not accept them.  IMPORTANT: this does not damn these records to an irrelevant hell but, rather, to a modestly relevant purgatory.  The records are still archived, and any researcher is free to re-evaluate them in the future and treat them as valid/invalid as they so desire (and at their peril…)  In short, a rejected record is not instantly and forever damned to irrelevance (some of them are damned before they are even submitted) but remains a record of an observation and is permanently archived alongside the accepted records (they aren’t even in different drawers).

At this point, Officer Searcy is quiet for some time, then blurts out something completely unexpected:

I would love to be the first assassinated member of the CBRC.

Hmmm...a diplomatic yet twisted response. I always considered the "natural origin" question to be the bane of any Bird Police department...California hasn't had a truly problematic bird in that vein in a few years, but just wait until the next Silky-Flycatcher or Blue Mockingbird turns up...if you vote the wrong way, you might look out your window one night to see a crowd of enraged birders burning your house down. There is no shortage of birders (many rather good) who struggle with taking the Bird Police seriously...some have reasons more valid than others.

And let's be real; the vast majority of rejected records will not have Christ-like resurrections, to be accepted by the world and welcomed with open arms. Some of the surprising provenance-uncertain records have some potential to rise from the dead, however.

You spoke of public outreach. I think it would be exciting if the nomination and election of new CBRC members were a bigger event, with a lot more drama and festivities involved...perhaps certain birders would not view the bird police like the KGB or Gestapo if there was some kind of birder red carpet event. Hell, I could even live blog it. Thoughts?

Another excellent idea, Steve.  I think secrecy is the enemy of free birders around the globe.  Perhaps we need a Bradley Manning/Edward Snowden of the CBRC to crack things wide open.  It is an insular affair, to be sure, but what alternatives are there?  A vote of the people?

Sure. Felonious Jive could be the whip for the Whiskey Delegation.

We could have an Egypt on our hands.  Festivities, however, I can support.  I think the annual meeting should be telecast globally and with great fanfare.  We could call in experts to weigh in on ID issues and have celebrity guest reviewers for problem groups.  A birder beauty pageant (i.e., a beauty pageant staged for birders, but not with actual birders competing) could be arranged.  A BB&B live-blogging would be necessary!

Birder media is already buzzing with who might be elected to the next bird police administration. Who would you pick to serve that hasn't already been on the committee?

I think Dan Maxwell would be a good committee man—he’d have to leave his woman behind, though, as this is a full time job.  Couples need not apply.  I also think that D. van der Pluym of Colorado River fame and [Lauren Harter] would be assets to the committee (separately—not as coevals).  They both have their hands, heads and various other parts well inserted into the ornithological happenings of Arizona at present, so this might be a few years down the road.  Additionally, I think that Felonious Jive has serious potential as a committee man.

I don't know if there is room in any list enforcement agency for a man as crude and foul as Felonious Jive, The Great Ornithologist. I'm sure he appreciates the sentiment though.

The second half of Officer Searcy's interview will be up soon. In the mean time, be sure to get your overdue reports of review birds in, and check the footwear of any new birder you meet.