My Story

I didn’t really know a lot about birds when I was young beyond what my dad taught me from our backyard feeders, but for whatever weird reason, I tried to memorize our old Audubon guide when I was little. I was never sure of my knowledge, though, without a true birding mentor. Maybe it’s a personality trait of mine, but this lack of confidence kept me from trusting my “matching” of the pictures in my guide to anything I saw outside. Nonetheless, I’d guess at identifications outdoors, silently from a car window or when out at a new place. I’d hope that this bird I’d never heard anyone else talk about was in fact what I saw in the photos. I remember seeing a painted bunting on the cover of a magazine and thinking how amazing it would be to see that bird (which brought it full circle when my 1st field job ended up focusing on nest monitoring for that species). A formative experience that sticks out to me was when I was in middle school, and a good friend and I went to a camp to learn about the Chesapeake bay watershed. I finally saw several of the birds up close that I’d gawked at in our bird book, and also had the identifications confirmed by our counselors from the Chesapeake Bay Foundation. I came home with a shiny heron-shaped pendant that I’d earned from my attention to the avi-fauna of the trip!

After my childhood interest in watching birds got put on the back-burner sometime in high school, I found myself drawn to learning about birds again as an undergrad. I was a burnt out physics major, looking for something else to revitalize me after a time of personal hardship. Before I switched my major, I took up hiking with my family’s old Audubon guide that I borrowed during some weekend trip home. I started at Mountain Lake, one of the closest spots with a lots of trails well-known around campus. The first bird I remember identifying along a hike was dark-eyed junco, again a bird I had never really “heard of” commonly talked about. So I wondered, was it unusual? Was my ID therefore wrong? Yet, it matched the picture, description and range perfectly. I descended back down the trail and found a bird list at the nature center, and was happy to find the word “junco” listed on it. I felt better about my ID. I kept the bird list with me, and later intending to join one of the guided bird walks, I showed up to a scheduled hike in the spring only to find it cancelled. Yet, with no binoculars, I noticed a flurry of small birds in a tree near where the walk was supposed to meet. I would later find a kinship with a classic ornithology paper I read once I started my M.S., because as I painstakingly sat trying to visually track the varied active birds in that flowering tree, I noticed that certain species seemed to hang out in different parts of the tree. That observation helped me focus enough to identify the birds in front of me, unperturbed by my sneaking up on them amidst their early morning foraging.

After I switched my major into biology, I was drawn to wildlife electives. When I took ornithology, my childhood fascination with birds fully reignited, and I felt it was what I meant to pursue as a career. In a funny twist, I had to buy the Sibley Guide (still my favorite bird guide) for class, and years later during a CBC walk with my now-birding-friend Matt Hafner, it became apparent that I may have bought it from him when he worked at a local bird store in Blacksburg! Armed with the bare minimum tiny binoculars I had to buy for lab, I was hooked into birding from the first outdoor venture, and finally had the help of knowledgeable TA’s Julie Danner (née Castner) and Jonathan Moore pointing out birds in the field to feel confident in assigning species ID’s to the birds I saw. I felt I had the tools in hand now to truly start birding, and so I did. It was perhaps the first time I couldn’t wait to do my homework, which was weekly bird observations. I relished walking to a new spot, with the hopes of seeing new bird species and learning more about bird identification. Our class had a great time for the remainder of the semester, and afterward, my TA’s recommended me for my first field job, which became my M.S. thesis project. In that time, I upgraded to a still-low-end $100 pair of Nikon binoculars that lasted me throughout my M.S. degree. The rest is, as they say, “history.” To everyone who has helped me along the way, I am eternally grateful, and am happy to now be in the community of birders and bird researchers. Birding continues to be my passion, as both a hobby and a career!

Your Story?

When did you become interested in birds? Are you at all curious about our feathered friends right outside your window? What has been your experience interacting with birds and other wildlife? Please comment below!

Here’s a guide to organizations I’ve personally interacted with and would recommend (though I know of several others in nearby locations and am happy to recommend if you leave a comment). This is where you can meet up with birders, find guided walks/events and other local birding information.

• Mid-Atlantic
  • Howard County Bird Club
  • Delmarva Birding Weekends
• Southeast
  • Clemson Bird and Naturalist Club
  • Carolina Bird Club
  • Lake Conestee Nature Park
  • Hendry-Glades Audubon
• Midwest
  • Wisconsin Society for Ornithology
  • Wisconsin Birds & Beers
  • Madison Audubon
  • Duluth Audubon
  • Hawk Ridge Bird Observatory
  • Minnesota Ornithologists’ Union
  • Friends of Sax-Zim Bog

My post critiquing the latest federal report trying to quantify birders suggested that perhaps we try to break birding into additional categories, to somehow scale between the active birding community and the federal report’s estimated number of birders. I’m open to name changes, commentary, new definitions, etc. but here’s where I’m at. These should be thought of as concentric circles, where each group is hypothetically included in the next category in the list.

1. “Hardcore birders” – This is how the birding community would largely self-identify, which is essential to this definition: I believe the attempts of those of us to define birders in this sense are trying to define our community. Thus, many of us know each other by means of our membership in this group. These are the people who are constantly driven to “new heights” in birding, seeking novel experiences with birds in some fashion. Birding is a life priority and a passion. Whether they aim to up their ID game, add a lifer, or add to some other list they keep, these are your true hobbyist birders. My educated guess, along with those of other birders on social media, is somewhere between 75,000-250,000 in the U.S.
2. “Non-hardcore birders” – I think this is the group where I found myself describing perceived members as “he/she likes birds” but not necessarily as a birder. These are people who know about, are interested in, and seek out opportunities to go birding, but are often not known to local birding communities. They may care enough to participate in local citizen science efforts, or support local bird-related organizations/events, but do not necessarily keep lists or put in effort to see new birds, or learn about birds purely for curiosity’s sake. This is where I’d go with the upper limit of my original guess, which is 300,000 people in the U.S.
3. People with special knowledge of birds – I was shocked when my undergrad ornithology professor told me she wasn’t a birder; I thought the profession necessitated that hobby! I’ve come to learn, though, that it doesn’t, and she inspired this category: these are often (though not necessarily exclusively) people who have some professional association with wildlife. They may be very knowledgeable about ornithology, and support birds in some fashion, but are not necessarily birders (it actually makes me wonder if this category should thus be taken out, but this is a draft without a specific goal of categorization specified, yet). This could perhaps be estimated by how many people have worked with birds in any capacity, be it seasonal field work or otherwise.
4. Backyard/Local Area Birders – These are people who do own a field guide and are willing to at least make guesses at what they see in the backyard, or adopt local knowledge about what’s around them. They may stay in their backyard, but they look beyond their feeder to try to learn what’s going on around them. I’m not sure how to estimate this, as different from the next categories up: I think the number of “active birders” from the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service (USFWS) is inflated by waterfowl hunters who go to scout their spots, and necessarily own binoculars and other gear for hunting. Thus, they’re not birding purely to watch wildlife watching, but instead it’s intertwined in the goal of another hobby.
5. Birder-curious – These are people who are intrigued by e.g. a local bird walk at a nearby natural area, and who may participate when they can, but do not necessarily take their hobby personally. In other words, they’re happy to look at birds when someone else is pointing them out, but it doesn’t necessarily translate to pursuing their hobby independently. It also may just be a part of general interest in wildlife, but not a special interest in birds. (This hypothetically includes what USFWS would loosely call “active birders.” Though the same problem mentioned above applies, the associated number from the report is 18 million).
6. Feeder watching – These are people who feed birds and try (at least vaguely) to identify them. This likely includes anyone who owns a bird feeder, and/or buys bird food. This is meant to be the end scale of the USFWS definition, < 47 million.

In 2011, the US Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS) published “Birding in the United States: A Demographic and Economic Analysis.” It was created as an addendum to the National Survey of Fishing, Hunting, and Wildlife-Associated Recreation. They claim it’s the most extensive survey of wildlife recreation in the U.S. to date.

“Overall, about 9,300 detailed wildlife-watching interviews were completed with a response rate of 67 percent. The Survey focused on 2011 participation and expenditures by U.S. residents 16 years of age and older.” – USFWS

The stated mission was ambitious.

“The following report provides up-to-date information so birders and policy makers can make informed decisions regarding the management of birds and their habitats. This report identifies who birders are…how avid they are…In addition to demographic information, this report also provides an economic measure of birding. It estimates how much birders spend on their hobby and the economic impact of these expenditures.

By understanding who birders are, they can be more easily reached and informed about pressures facing birds and bird habitats. Conversely, by knowing who is likely not a birder, or who is potentially a birder, information can be more effectively tailored. The economic values presented here can be used by resource managers and policy makers to demonstrate the economic might of birders, the value of birding – and by extension, the value of birds.” – Report 2011-1

When birders actually read the report, the first statistic they were confronted with was what seemed to be a gross overestimation of their community size: they estimated bird watchers to number 47 million in the U.S., which would be 20% of the national population! Here, I actually think the semantic difference is important: it has come up that “birdwatcher” and “birder” likely have, at least, different connotations if not different definitions. Birdwatcher is a dated term, and I think thus has the connotation at the very least that it indicates a less rigorous activity than the hobby of birding. Indeed, that’s what the survey seems to measure, though they use the terms interchangeably.

“The National Survey uses a conservative definition. To be counted as a birder, an individual must have either taken a trip one mile or more from home for the primary purpose of observing birds and/or closely observed or tried to identify birds around the home…Backyard birding or watching birds around the home is the most common form of bird-watching. Eighty-eight percent (41 million) of birders are backyard birders. The more active form of birding, taking trips away from home, is less common with 38 percent (18 million) of birders partaking.” – Erin Carver

In other words, people who watch their feeders with a bird guide make the cut, and this is strongly reflected in the original report (to which the addendum was made). They count almost 1/3rd of the U.S. population as wildlife watchers, the overwhelming majority being those that feed birds and/or other types of wildlife. Most people who call themselves birders would disagree that this definition is conservative; by contrast, this definition is the most liberal end possible. While it is indeed heartening that that many people care about birds, my communication with other birders has led us to an estimate closer to between 250,000-300,000 birders in the US.

The study used this data to extrapolate demographic information about what they call birding. Part of that was location, where they seem to favor raw numbers over participation: they say the average birder is southern, though the 1st southern state in participation ranking is 17th. They also made an attempt to measure what we’re traveling to see:

“Seventy-five percent of away-from-home birders reported observing waterfowl (ducks, geese, etc.), making those the most watched type of bird. Birds of prey (hawks, eagles, etc.) were also popular with 72 percent of birders watching them, followed in popularity by songbirds such as cardinals and robins (68 percent) and other water birds such as herons and shorebirds (60 percent).”

Going back to the original survey, and the suspected bias in targeting sportsmen, I found that 57% of hunters and 51% of anglers also put themselves in the wildlife watching category, making 29% of the wildlife watchers surveyed either hunters or fishers (or both). This helps explain the overwhelming representation of waterfowl-watching as the main target of birding. The accuracy of these representations ultimately bear on the conclusions at the end, namely the economic impact of birders.

I think this calls for a more specific survey effort to better quantify and define birders, and thus assess their impact, both current and potential. It may thus be best to take a tiered approach, from what birders would consider their community up to the levels addressed by the federal report. In other words, it would mean a “scaling up” from populating what birders would call birders, to everyone that feeds birds in their backyard and watches said feeders. I think identifying subgroups within this number would elucidate special interests, needs, concerns and ultimately economic potential.

I think the crux our pursuit in defining what it is to be a birder is that we’re looking to define criteria for membership of our tribe, which would be the group of people that “speaks the same language as us.” We recognize each other by our habits and field gear, and location. We can assume similar interests and motivations. There are many factors that may vary among birders, but the general idea remains, or at least insofar as I (and others) have taken a stab at defining it.

There are probably narrower definitions and thus “tribal affiliations” within this umbrella of birders. I think this is harder to define, because it varies among many factors, and is even perhaps evidenced in the small group birding friendships that are formed in a general area. For instance, how about the people I can find at a good birding spot, and they immediately know what I’m there for? Those are people with whom I feel the strongest birding connections, because it indicates a lot about how much we’re on the same page and interested in the same things. In that case, to me, it’s birder-specific, so then I find others who feel the same way to hang out with!

This isn’t meant to be an exclusionary statement or attitude, nor do I think I’m by any means limited to interacting with people that are like me in the birding world. I’m just trying to get at that shared sense of purpose and kinship, or “fellow traveler” feeling, that we get when we encounter others on the same path we’re on. I think that’s what many are trying to get at when we define what it is to be a birder, in part by looking in a mirror.