The Wildlife Warrior

"I believe that education is all about being excited about something.  Seeing passion and enthuasiam helps push an educational message."

"Crikey!"

-Steve Irwin

I remember very well the day that Steve Irwin died.  I was in college still, back in 2006.  I had just woken up, my laptop was warming up, and the internet was loading while I went off to brush my teeth.  When I came back into the room, the toothbrush almost dropped from my open mouth.  The front page news announced the Steve Irwin, known to millions as “The Crocodile Hunter” had died. 

Had Irwin lived, today would have been his 52^nd birthday.

Steve Irwin was one of my idols growing up.  It’s not that he made wildlife cool – wildlife is always cool – as much as he made it cool to be excited about it.  Specifically, he helped shine focus on the unloved, unappreciated animals – the snakes and sharks and spiders and, above all, the crocodiles.  He brought overflowing enthusiasm with him in every episode, treating every animal that he encountered as if it was the most awesome thing he had ever seen in his life, and acting like there was no one on earth he wanted to share it with as much as he did with you.    

Irwin wasn’t without his detractors.  At the time when he first exploded onto the scene via Animal Planet, I was volunteering at the Reptile House of my city zoo.  The keepers there detested Irwin.  They considered him reckless, his onscreen persona arrogant, and his attitude towards wildlife disrespectful (“Hey, I’m just going to grab this highly venomous snake and see what happens!”).  They felt that he encouraged his viewers to treat wild animals in a cavalier manner, like toys or props rather than living things.  They may have had a point.  I remember the first time when, alone in the back of the Reptile House, I caught myself doing a Steve Irwin impression with a carpet python.  The snake promptly bit me in the arm. 

Keeping that in mind, I think the problem that many zookeepers had with Steve Irwin is that they secretly wanted to be him.

I wouldn’t consider Steve Irwin a paragon for how to handle animals, or how best to interact with them, though he was obviously skilled at both (evidence: he survived for as long as he did).  I’m sure I wasn’t the only dumb kid (or adult) who got themselves hurt while imitating him.  I would, however, say that the good that he did far outweighed any negative side-effects of his bravado. 

 Looking back on him, I don’t think of the eye-rolls or head-shakes as he lunged on the back of a saltwater crocodile, plunging underwater in yet another life-and-death struggle.  I remember all of the herpetologists and reptile keepers I know who were inspired by Irwin, Jeff Corwin, and other wildlife hosts.  I remember him turning Australia’s reptiles from something to be feared, something that tourism agencies prayed that no one would notice, to proud symbols of the country.  I remember flipping to the bibliography of some of my favorite reptile books and seeing several scientific papers listed under his name and the groundbreaking accomplishments of his Australia Zoo, furthering our understanding of many species.  I remember seeing a species – one I’d never even heard of before - on his show, nestled in his arms, and thinking that that animal was the coolest thing ever.

We’ll never know what role Steve Irwin could have played in the conservation struggles that the world now faces.  Though the Crocodile Hunter is no longer with us, his legacy continues – through his wife and children (including his increasingly outspoken daughter Bindi – named for a crocodile, of course), his Australia Zoo team, and the legions of fans who had their views of wildlife  - reptiles especially – shaped by his show.