Loyal Spouse and I headed up U.S.2 to the Jaquith Public Library in Marshfield last night to hear a talk by Vermont wildlife rescuer John Aberth, author of “Bringing Up Beaver: Two Orphaned Beaver Kits, Two Humans, and Our Journey Back to the Wild.” It was fascinating, and it raised some Vermont Political Points worth sharing.

The book tells the story of rescuing and raising two beaver kits, which is an incredibly demanding process and a two-year commitment because that’s how long it takes a beaver to reach maturity. (The image above is taken from the front cover of the book.)

Aberth shared his experiences, and spent a few minutes at the end talking about wildlife policy. He had a lot to say, much of which I had never heard before. He was sharply critical of trapping wild animals in general and beavers in particular. In the case of beavers, trapping is mostly employed to get rid of perceived nuisances — by property owners, town officials, and the Agency of Transportation. Long gone are the days when beaver pelts fueled the exploration of a continent; today, a pelt sells for only about $20.

The problem is not only the cruelty. It’s also the fact that beavers are actually beneficial to the environment. And in the vast majority of cases, trapping doesn’t work. All it does is open up prime beaver habitat for others to occupy; lather, rinse, repeat. Plus, there are proven ways to accommodate beavers and minimize conflict at a fraction of the cost of trapping, and trapping, and trapping again.

You see a beaver pond, what do you think? Wow, it’s collecting all that water, it must be bad for flooding. The opposite is true, in fact; beavers help regulate water circulation. If we had more of ’em, we’d have less flooding. They can’t compensate for the effects of global warming, but they can sure help. A beaver dam is an asset that provides measurable economic benefits.

It does require some management. Aberth pointed to the work of a Vermont outfit called Beaver Deceivers International, which creates long-lasting ways to manage beaver activity humanely — and cheaply. They say their “flow devices” have a 30-year cost of less than $50,000, including construction and maintenance, while “traditional” means (i,e, trapping) cost more than a half million dollars over 30 years.

Beavers’ social organizations are surprisingly complex, and easily disrupted by the removal of individual animals. Each member of a typical den has its own distinctive role. Most crucially, beavers take two years to reach maturity. Parents must oversee their young for the full two years. And the second-year young play a role in rearing the new kits. Beavers’ family organizations are, in important ways, more complex than human ones.

Aberth pointed out that Vermont’s animal cruelty laws only apply to domesticated animals. Wildlife are, ahem, fair game. But what’s the justification for that double standard? Wild animals feel pain, hunger, and loss just like pets and livestock. To Aberth, the double standard should be erased. Which would mean a ban on many forms of trapping.

Here’s where I hear some people in the back shouting about sacred Vermont traditions. Yeah, well, clearcutting was once the “only” way to manage forests, bloodletting was an accepted medical practice, and women and children were property. Times change.

Aberth told us that Massachusetts instituted a ban on certain kinds of traps about 30 years ago by a statewide referendum. Which brings up one of my pet peeves about Vermont: We don’t allow the public to put policy questions to a vote. Only the Legislature has the authority to do that, and it’s exercised very, very rarely.

Limits on trapping are proposed frequently in the Statehouse, but never gain any traction. Republicans squawk about Our Rural Way of Life, and many Democrats are sensitive about the perception that they don’t care about rural Vermont. Trapping is a political third rail: Touch it at your peril. But I suspect that if a reasonable trapping ban were put to a vote of the public, it would pass easily. Too bad we’ll never know.

As noted above, trapping is not a way of life. We don’t have hardy voyageurs paddling our rivers and streams, scratching out a living off the land. What we have are professional pest removers cashing in on myths and false narratives. Allowing them to keep on killing beavers is an astonishingly inefficient use of funds — often, when state or local government is the client, taxpayer funds. Your dollars and mine, paying to kill beneficial creatures in a non-cost effective way. You’d think we might care about that, if we can’t be bothered to consider the random cruelty of it all.