IN THE UK, whenever wildlife is seen to be posing a problem, it goes without saying that the culprits are branded as too abundant – be they badgers, grey squirrels or foxes. I cannot remember how often I have been told that foxes need to be culled as they lack natural predators.

So it was almost inevitable that when a baby in Bromley, in the suburbs of south-east London, was bitten by a fox that got into a house this month, Boris Johnson, the mayor of London, demanded that the city’s many borough councils tackle the “growing problem” of urban foxes, which he called a “pest and a menace”.

Fortunately, cases of foxes biting children are very rare, but whenever they happen the media is whipped into a frenzy and such language dominates the coverage. Feeding this frenzy may be good for a politician’s image, but it sidesteps the facts.

Then there are the experts who suddenly appear whenever fox bites hit the headlines, claiming that urban foxes are increasing, as are attacks on children. I have never heard of many of these “experts” and see remarkably little evidence to support their assertions.

Firstly, there is a vastly greater risk that your child will be attacked by a pet dog, especially your own. Nearly a third of UK dog owners have been bitten or attacked. Thousands of people are admitted to hospital for dog bites each year, many requiring plastic surgery to treat facial injuries, with children worst affected. And dog attacks result in roughly one child and one adult being killed each year in the UK, on average.

People who call for a fox cull also forget or ignore the fact that it has been tried before, and has failed. Foxes started colonising our cities in the 1930s, when a house-building boom and suburban expansion created an ideal habitat of lower-density housing with bigger gardens. From the late 1940s, the then Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries started trapping and shooting foxes in south-east London. Yet numbers continued to increase and they spread into the inner suburbs.

“People who call for a cull forget or ignore the fact that it has been tried before… and failed”

In 1970, responsibility for fox control passed to London’s councils. In the city’s south and west, many of them started trapping and shooting foxes and gassing dens. Bromley once had a full-time fox control officer who killed more than 300 foxes a year, mostly by shooting them in people’s gardens. For two days a week he had a colleague to assist him. However, their efforts had no discernible impact on numbers, and Bromley, along with other London boroughs, ceased its control measures in the 1980s.

The lack of success was hardly surprising. In Bristol in western England, when foxes are removed from one area, others take their place in around four days. Studies in Scotland and Wales both suggest that culling leads to a slightly bigger breeding population the next year, probably because more foxes move in to contest the vacant area than were there in the first place.

Culling now is likely to be both expensive and counterproductive. And it won’t target individual foxes that have become used to people and so could pose a genuine risk. But the British press feeds on hype, not science.

Bristol is the only city in the UK where the fox population has been monitored long-term. Here numbers slowly fluctuate, with occasional dramatic changes – such as when the skin disease sarcoptic mange arrived in spring 1994. It hit Bristol’s foxes hard; by spring 1996 over 95 per cent had died. Yet I never heard anyone celebrating their disappearance.

Numbers have slowly recovered. My colleagues and I predicted this would take 15 to 20 years, as has proved to be the case. Much the same appears to have happened in other UK cities following the northward and westward spread of mange, but many urban areas still have fewer foxes than they did before the disease broke out.

Interestingly, before mange, foxes that could be described as “bold” or “friendly” were fairly common in Bristol. My view is that we now have fewer bold foxes. We are still trying to work out why. But there is no evidence that urban foxes generally are getting bigger or bolder, or that they pose more of a risk to people.

With all the misinformation around, it may be surprising to hear that we know more about urban foxes in the UK than rural ones – far more. There is also far more published data on urban foxes in the UK than on foxes anywhere in the world. This makes misleading media coverage even more puzzling and worrying.

That isn’t to say there is not a growing problem: there is. But it is human rather than fox behaviour that is the issue. More and more television programmes show people handling wildlife; macho presenters have to touch, catch or wrestle animals. When people follow their example, such as by encouraging foxes to come into their kitchen to be fed, perhaps even eating out of their hands, problems are inevitable.

Urban wildlife conflicts are also on the rise in the US, where coyote attacks are more common. Being larger than foxes, coyotes cause nastier injuries and have killed one toddler. But the problem is recognised as being 95 per cent due to human behaviour, and the focus is on educating people, not culling. In Australia, where dingo attacks are an issue, the focus has also been on changing people’s behaviour. Both are model examples of conflict resolution.

In the UK the response is far less rational: the media publicises people showing off “tame” foxes, then goes into a frenzy over the inevitable problems such misguided behaviour brings.

For 24 hours after the Bromley baby was bitten, my phone never stopped ringing. Then it suddenly fell silent. An 85-year-old man in Rome announced his retirement and the media circus moved on.

In the UK, whenever wildlife is seen to be posing a problem, it goes without saying that the culprits are branded as overabundant – be they badgers, grey squirrels or foxes. I cannot remember how often I have been told that foxes need to be culled because they have no natural predators.

So it was almost inevitable that when a baby in Bromley in the suburbs of south-east London was bitten by a fox last week, Boris Johnson, the mayor of London, demanded that the city’s many borough councils tackle the “growing problem” of , which he called a “pest and a menace”.

Fortunately, cases of foxes biting children are very rare, but whenever they happen the media is whipped into a frenzy and such language dominates the coverage. Feeding this frenzy may be good for Johnson’s image, but it sidesteps the facts.

Firstly, there is a vastly greater risk that your child will be attacked by a pet cat or dog, especially your own. Nearly a third of UK dog owners have been bitten or attacked by a dog, sometimes with horrendous consequences. There are each year, many resulting in injury to the face requiring plastic surgery, and with children worst affected. On average, dog attacks result in roughly one child and one adult being killed each year in the UK.

Tried and failed

People who call for a fox cull also forget or ignore the fact that it has been tried before, and failed. Foxes started to colonise our cities in the 1930s, when a house-building boom and suburban expansion created an ideal habitat for both people and foxes – lower-density housing with bigger gardens. From the late 1940s, the then Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries started trapping and shooting foxes in south-east London to try to curb the growing red menace. Yet fox numbers continued to increase and they spread into the inner suburbs.

In 1970 the responsibility for fox control passed to the London boroughs, and many in south and west London started trapping and shooting foxes, and gassing their dens with cyanide.

Bromley once had a full-time fox control officer who killed over 300 foxes a year, mostly by shooting them in people’s gardens with a 12-bore shotgun. For two days a week he was assisted by another council employee. However, their combined efforts had no discernible impact on fox numbers and Bromley, along with the other London boroughs, ceased its fox control measures in the 1980s.

We could not even stop the early spread of foxes into London, let alone reduce numbers, an all-too-familiar story with foxes generally.

The lack of success was hardly surprising. In the city of Bristol in western England, when foxes are removed from a territory, others take their place in around four days. Studies in Scotland and both suggest that killing foxes leads to a slightly higher breeding population the next year, probably because more foxes move in to contest the vacant area than were there in the first place.

Hype over science

Culling foxes now is likely to be both expensive and counterproductive. And it will not target the problem: the individual foxes that actually pose a risk to people. But the British press feeds on hype, not science.

Equally frustrating, whenever fox bites sporadically hit the headlines, is the number of experts that suddenly appear claiming that urban fox numbers are increasing, as are attacks on children. I have never heard of many of these “experts” and see remarkably little evidence to support their assertions.

Bristol is the only city in the UK where the fox population has been monitored long-term: here fox numbers slowly fluctuate, with occasional dramatic changes, such as when the skin disease sarcoptic mange arrived in spring 1994. This hit Bristol’s foxes hard. By spring 1996 over 95 per cent had died, and the city had become a vulpine ghost town. I never heard a single person celebrating their disappearance, only mourning their loss.

Since then fox numbers have slowly recovered: we predicted this would take 15 to 20 years, as proved to be the case. Foxes are only just returning to their earlier densities. Much the same appears to have happened in other cities across the UK following the northward and westward spread of sarcoptic mange. Many urban areas still have fewer foxes than they did before the disease broke out.

No bigger or bolder

Interestingly, before mange, foxes that could be described as “bold” or “friendly” were relatively common in Bristol. My impression is that we now have fewer bold foxes. We are still trying to work out why this may have happened. But there is no evidence that urban foxes generally are getting bigger or bolder, or pose more of a risk to people.

With all this misinformation, it may seem surprising to hear that we actually know more about urban foxes in the UK than rural foxes. Far more. In fact, there is far more published data on urban foxes in the UK than on foxes anywhere else in the world. This makes the misleading media coverage even more puzzling and worrying.

That is not to say there is not a growing problem: there is. But it is human rather than fox behaviour that is the issue. More and more television programmes show people handling wildlife; macho presenters have to touch, catch or wrestle wild animals. When people follow their example, such as by encouraging foxes to take food from their hands or come into their kitchen to be fed, problems are inevitable.

And that’s the irony; first the media publicises people showing off their “tame” foxes, be it feeding them by hand on wildlife shows or in their homes or keeping them as pets, then goes into a misinformed frenzy over the problems that invariably follow.

The long haul begins at the start of the academic year, when project
proposals have to be completed for the Natural Environment Research Council.
So which of your many ideas should you put forward this year? Perhaps the
best thing to do is look at the list of people on the Terrestrial Life Sciences
Committee to see which projects are most likely to appeal. But that course
of action is far from encouraging: only one person is in your field, and
most seem to be at the molecular end of the spectrum.

Even before the bids are posted to the NERC, the first applications
from keen hopefuls arrive, and the long task of taking up references and
short-listing starts. The curriculum vitae is often more confusing than
illuminating.

For example, four As at A-level looks good, but does “I have an active
social life” mean that you will never see them in the lab? What value is
a grad 8 distinction on the piano to a PhD in rabies modelling? And what
does this reference mean: “His attendance at tutorials was irregular, but
exactly the same could be said of his tutor”?

Meanwhile, the department has received details of quota awards from
the Science and Engineering Research Council, so hopeful members of staff
meet to do battle for the two or three studentships. You have nearly 60
applicants, so surely you must be in with a chance, since many of our colleagues
are grumbling that they have had great difficulty getting any PhD applicants
at all. However, despite your entries, the meeting decides that the SERC
quotas should go to two of your colleagues.

Never mind, after all your hard work you do actually have three studentships
to offer: the Ministry of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food has given you
one at the fifth attempt; the good old NERC has come up trumps again (perhaps
the structure of the committee isn’t that bad after all); and a private
charity has offered you support. Also, the spring term is near, and you
must start interviewing, because if you do not move fast the best students
will take up offers elsewhere.

At the interviews, do not forget the lessons from previous years. Always
ask the applicants whether they have a driving licence, not whether they
can dirve; remember the student who assured you that he could drive, and
only after he started did you discover that, although he thought he could
drive, his driving-test examiner had thought otherwise and he did not have
a licence. No rugby players either (too much injury time); no one with an
interest in Dungeons and Dragons (it occupied one student for his entire
first year); and, almost important, no one with any marriage plans – six
months’ disruption to the project arranging flowers, churches, catering,
lists of presents, seating plans, visiting vicars and families, one week
off before the event to practice (what do they practice for a whole week?),
and at least two weeks for a honeymoon. And then there is the wedding present
to buy!

Having listened to all the blandishments at the interviews, who do you
accept? Decisions are never easy, and you do not want to waste a hard-won
studentship. Clearly, the one who was puffing badly after climbing up to
your office on the forth floor will not be fit enough for field work, and
what do you make of the one who turned up for an interview in an expensive
green silk tie and dirty, tatty jeans? Will the good-looking one be a distracting
influence, and will the dour one fit in with everyone else?

For better or worse, the decisions have been made, and your offers accepted.
It is now that the work really starts – three years (hopefully not too much
longer) of advising, guiding, directing and pleading, raising funds for
equipment, and long trips to vist temperamental students to persuade them
that, although the field work is nice, it has to stop and they really do
have to come back and start the analysis. Eventually, the first chapters
of the thesis appear and, at long last, the whole exercise appears to be
worthwhile; the science seems sound, the draft thesis looks good and all
you have to do is make a few helpful comments.

Despite it all, I’ll be there next year trying to raise funds for yet
more PhD students. After all, they are the lifeblood of an active research
group, and their contribution to any department is considerable. Even more
important, they provide supervisors with countless stories of their suffering
to swap at conferences. Many of my tales seem to pale against those of my
colleagues; take the student who was apparently using university orders
to buy drugs to sell on to a dealer, or the student who had no data and
so tried to burn down part of the department in an attempt to hide the fact
and so save face on his return home. Or the student who left his caving
gear washing overnight in a sink: the overflow blocked and flooded the library
below. Fortunately, I’ve been spared such nightmares.

Individual traumas aside, there are serious problems with the current
PhD system. The recent dearth of good students is worrying, but hardly surprising.
How can postgraduate students manage on such a paltry grant? Even with the
recent increase to 3,725 Pounds (pds) a year, it is still inadequate. Even
more important as a disincentive to potential graduate students is that
there is often no pathway to a scientific or academic career at the end
of it. Surely we must do better for postgraduate students, If we do not,
the idea of doing a PhD will soon become so unattractive that no good students
will be forthcoming, even for hitherto attractives areas of study.

Stephen Harris works in the zoology department at the University of
Bristol.