Dodginess Revisited

Cirl Bunting is a rare bird in Dorset. Any observer claiming one in the county had better write a convincing description. A female? Ha! Nice try, sunshine. Show me!

Yes, I can imagine that an unphotographed, single-observer female Cirl Bunting in Dorset would have quite a rough ride. However, at West Bexington there are currently two. The first was independantly found by Mike Morse, Alan Barrett and myself on January 1st, and Mike and I both got a photo. I'm sure nobody doubts the record for a moment.

In this photo is just one female Cirl Bunting, not two. Tricky.

But supposing the bird was a female Pine Bunting. And suppose it was just a single observer. And no photos. And the bird was never seen again. Even if views were astounding and the description absolutely bang-on I cannot imagine many reputations surviving something like that 100% unscathed. Or am I just a cycnic...?

In October and November 2019 I wrote five posts about the 'dodgy birder' phenomenon. For a variety of reasons I find the topic fascinating. Whether they like it or not, birders do seem to acquire a reputation. I've written before about the reputation thing, and it's interesting how much it relies on a birder's ability to find and identify scarce or rare birds, and - crucially - on other birders believing that they have genuinely seen what they say they've seen. A birder's rep does not appear to stand or fall on their ability to accurately determine the local population of breeding Robins, or stuff like that. No. It's all about finding, and about identification, and about oddities. And about trust.

So, dear reader, let me ask you a rhetorical question: Do you care what kind of reputation you have?

I expect you do. A few might not, but most of us do. I do. I would not like to think that I had a dodgy reputation.

I happen to live in a fairly well populated part of the country, with other birders not too far away. I also carry a camera, and try to photograph any decent birds I see. So when I am fortunate enough to find a bird worth sharing, frequently I am able to do just that. But if its stay is brief, chances are I'll have a record shot to corroborate my sighting anyway. I post stuff on Twitter too. In other words, in the main my birds are out there in some way, either multi-observed or photographed, or both.

That said, on occasion I have boobed. For example, last year I tweeted a Hobby photo that was actually a Peregrine, and a gull which was probably just a first-winter Yellow-legged I originally posted as a part-Casp hybrid thing. Annoyingly I knew the 'Hobby' was a Peregrine when I was watching it, but changed my mind after looking at the photos. However, the gull definitely had me fooled. My point is this: I am clearly fallible. On occasion I misidentify birds. That fallibility is bound to affect how others view me. But I have absolutely no idea what sort of birdy rep I have, because nobody ever tells you! Still, in a couple of simple ways I make efforts to minimise the possibility of too much scepticism about my records...

In 2020 my best finds included 5 Caspian Gulls, a Red-backed Shrike, a Golden Oriole and 2 Wrynecks. Of that lot only a single Casp was seen by anyone else. Thankfully I got photos of everything except the Golden O. But suppose I hadn't? Suppose I didn't carry a camera? Some of those birds were searched for by others - the shrike, the oriole and at least one Wryneck - but in vain. Would my reputation have been affected? If I wasn't me, how would I have viewed this...er...fortunate observer?

To be fair, most of my decent finds through the years have actually stuck around to be seen by others, but as 2020 shows, that's not always the way...

The undoubted high point of 2019's Dodgy Birder series was Appendix A: A Dodgy Birder Responds, in which Alan Vittery, a birder evidently labelled dodgy by the British Birds Rarities Committee, offered a case for the defense. Here was a very sharp birder, who had found many multi-observed rare birds, having his records not just doubted, but discredited. I know that I am not the only reader who found Alan's account fascinating and thought-provoking...

Well, in a sense there is a sequel. Alan has written a book. It is entitled A Date With a Bird, and is a 12-month, day-by-day summary of his birding diary highlights from 1955 to the present day. It is a beautifully bound, 280-page hardback, illustrated with many photos and one or two paintings. There is only one drawback: the book is not for sale. Although it is intended to be available as an Amazon e-book in the near future, Alan has had just 100 paper copies printed. However, he has been kind enough to send one to me. It is, as he suggests, a book for 'dipping into' rather than reading cover to cover, and I am in the process of doing just that. A small number of entries are relevant to my own birding history, in that I either saw the bird or experienced the event. But the vast majority are not. It is a superb read, and at some future time I will devote a post specifically to it. Every single one of Alan's major finds and discoveries is listed. It is jaw-dropping stuff.

There is no question that circumstances have led to Alan Vittery's reputation being irreparably damaged in the eyes of some. However, I take my hat off to his determination nonetheless to make so many of his significant records available for posterity. And simply as an anthology of amazing days in the field the book is a brilliant read.

As I say, A Date With a Bird will be the subject of a future post...