The state group making recommendations on a controversial plan to find a breeding ground for the endangered timber rattlesnake said this week that it will end its ban on allowing the public to speak at what are – hello! – public meetings.
That’s good news, but here’s something for scientists, government officials and the public to keep in mind as the discussion unfolds: Irrational fears should not derail a plan to keep the snakes from going extinct.
For the last year, debate has raged over a proposal to restore the rattlesnake population on a remote island in the Quabbin Reservoir and, more recently, over worries that the breeding ground might potentially shift to sites including the well-traveled Mount Tom. The worries expressed ranged from those who fear bites from the venomous reptile — Crotalus horridus for you Latin scholars — to anglers, hikers and others who fear the snake project will impinge on public access to lovely waters and woodlands.
Last spring, those anxieties led the Massachusetts Senate to delay a plan to breed a small number of the snakes on Mount Zion, an island in the Quabbin. Instead, senators called for creation of the working group that has been working toward recommendations on whether and where to move forward with the restoration plan.
About 60 people people turned out for the working group’s Feb. 28 meeting in Belchertown, sending up scattered jeers when planning group members declined to allow public comment. And earlier this month, the Holyoke City Council went on record against possible efforts to use Mount Tom — already a natural habitat for the species — as a place to bolster the population.
“I want to continue fighting for the residents of Holyoke, and to make sure they have the best quality of life possible,” said City Councilor James Leahy.
Those are stirring words, or at least they would be if the snakes posed a significant threat. But speechifying aside, here’s the skinny: They do not.
While snakebites pose a serious threat in some parts of the globe, Massachusetts has only documented three snakebite deaths, none since the Civil War, noted Amherst naturalist and Hitchcock Center for the Environment member Joshua Rose in a July 2016 Gazette column. Fewer than 10 people per year die nationwide, most of whom were handling the snake and nearly half of whom had been drinking.
The snakes occupy a place in our nation’s history, Rose noted. The Pilgrims found them throughout New England, leading to such place names as Rattlesnake Gutter in Leverett and Rattlesnake Knob in the Holyoke Range.
When Benjamin Franklin was looking for a symbol to represent the young nation, he chose the rattler. “She never begins an attack not, when once engaged, ever surrenders: She is therefore an emblem of magnanimity and true courage …,” Franklin wrote. “She never wounds till she has generously given notice, even to her enemy, and cautioned him against the danger of stepping on her.”
Their numbers thinned by our subdivisions, shopping malls and shiny cars, timber rattlers have gone extinct in Maine and Rhode Island, and only a handful of populations remain in Massachusetts. State wildlife officials hope to use a breeding plan to gradually bolster their numbers, lest they become only a page in this state’s history.
For all the fears of an island or mountain swarming with snakes, the reality is that most snakes slither in and among us on public lands that host family hikes, school trips and picnics. The reason we don’t have headlines about tragic encounters: The snakes want even less to do with humans than we do with them.
They will continue to keep a distance under the state’s plan, which from the beginning has envisioned breeding a small number of rattlers to begin with and then carefully tracking their movements. While state officials acknowledge failing to give the public an adequate voice in the process early on, their now-inclusive tack ensures that the public’s views will be well-heard.
Now it’s up to us to rely on reason rather than fear as the state shapes its plan. We should allow ourselves to be inspired — not rattled — by a drive to return Benjamin Franklin’s favorite critter to its rightful place among us.
The Rattlesnake Review Working Group meets at 6:30 p.m. March 22 at the Knights of Columbus hall at 126 W. Main St. in Ware. Public comments will be allowed.