Why Scientists Need to Stop Creating Villains in Nature

Rats and stoats in New Zealand are described in academic papers as "disaster on four paws." Wild pigs are labeled the real "big bad wolf" that "devastate" and "destroy" "vulnerable" species. These aren't scientific terms—they're storytelling choices. But according to new research, these choices are limiting science itself.

Ecologists writing in the journal BioScience in 2025 argue that simplifying complex ecological stories into good guys and bad guys is restricting how scientists understand and communicate their work. The popular "hero-villain" narrative trope in ecology and conservation writing, they found, has three fundamental problems.

Nature Doesn't Do Morality

First, villains aren't just doing bad—they're morally bad and held accountable for their actions. But plants, animals, and ecosystems don't operate within human moral frameworks. The hero-villain framing therefore invites inappropriate moral interpretation of nature.

When species are reported as "destructive" or "harmful" without careful context, audiences easily internalize them as inherently "bad" or "malicious," shaping how we treat them. In New Zealand, rats and stoats cast as villains face justification for excessively painful eradication methods like slow-acting poison—all because the narrative positioned them as morally deserving of such treatment.

This moral overlay becomes particularly problematic when it influences policy and public perception. The language we use in scientific literature doesn't stay in academic journals—it flows into media coverage, educational materials, and ultimately shapes public understanding and support for conservation actions.

Ecosystems Are Complicated

Second, real ecosystems don't have clear-cut heroes or villains. Species' roles are complex and multidimensional, frequently shifting based on environmental conditions and ecological context.

Consider white-tailed deer: they perform crucial ecosystem functions like seed dispersal throughout their habitat, yet their presence can also lead to biodiversity loss through excessive plant consumption. Reducing them to simply "good" or "bad" misrepresents their nuanced ecological role.

Musk oxen provide an even more striking example. Due to complex interactions between animals and soil properties, they increase ecosystem carbon storage in wet tundra environments but decrease it in dry tundra. The same species, different outcomes—challenging any simple moral categorization.

These examples reveal a deeper truth: ecological relationships exist on a spectrum of interactions that resist binary classification.

Values Masquerading as Facts

Third, the hero-villain framing embeds cultural and ethical assumptions without acknowledging them. These assumptions often reflect culturally specific beliefs about which species and ecosystems matter most.

Many cultures value native species—those that evolved and occupied ecosystems without human introduction. Consequently, introduced species frequently get blamed for native extinctions even when evidence is lacking. But "native" isn't automatically good or bad.

Nonnative species can restore ecosystem diversity and functioning lost through human-driven extinctions. They can also reduce native species abundance. The key insight? Deciding which outcomes are "good" or "bad" depends entirely on human values.

When scientists describe species as villains without explaining these underlying values, they present subjective judgments as objective scientific conclusions. This conflation of facts and values undermines scientific credibility and public trust.

Better Ways to Tell the Story

The researchers highlight alternative narrative structures that engage readers without creating artificial heroes and villains.

A place-based narrative focuses on describing a location and its inhabitants—think BBC's "Planet Earth" series, which immerses viewers in different ecosystems worldwide. This structure guides audiences through landscapes, allowing nuanced exploration of many characters in value-neutral yet compelling ways.

Henry Chandler Cowles' classic study of Michigan sand dunes exemplifies this approach, framing ecological dynamics through place itself: "Perhaps no topographic form is more unstable than a dune," he wrote, where plants must adapt "within years rather than centuries, the penalty for lack of adaptation being certain death." The drama comes from environmental constraints, pressures, and opportunities—not moral judgments.

Another powerful tool is the "Will they, or won't they?" structure—the tension seen in "Pride and Prejudice" or "When Harry Met Sally." Surprisingly, this works well in ecology too.

Partial migration—where some animals in a population migrate while others don't—illustrates this approach perfectly. Scientists are still determining why individuals make different choices: food availability, predator presence, or socially learned behaviors?

Framing research around that central, unresolved question builds suspense and maintains reader engagement without casting heroes or villains.