The Tasmanian tiger is still extinct. Reports of its survival are greatly exaggerated.
Officially known to science as a thylacine, the great marsupial predators, which looked more like wild dogs than tigers and spread across Tasmania and the Australian continent, were declared extinct in 1936. But on February 23, Neil Waters, president from Australia’s Thylacine Awareness Group, promised conclusive photographic proof of a surviving thylacine. The four photos, he said, showed a family of thylacines, including a young man, moving through dense vegetation. The announcement generated a wave of enthusiasm among wildlife aficionados.
But analysis by tilacin experts quickly unmasked the photos as a case of mistaken identity. The event is the latest in a tradition of extravagant claims about photographic or video evidence of lost or unknown species that fail. Why do these cycles occur so regularly, sometimes even convincing experts? The answer, psychologists say, may lie in the peculiarities of the human mind and in how we process information that is both familiar and difficult to perceive.
Although these images occasionally turn out to be a scam, many photos and videos show real animals – even if they are not what people say they are. In 2005, a WWF camera trap captured images of a “mysterious carnivore” – probably a flying squirrel – in the jungle of Indonesian Borneo. In 2007, 2011 and 2014, clips of hairless dogs and raccoons in Texas were described as chupacabras.
In the same year, a kayak recorded images that purported to show an extinct ivory-billed woodpecker in an Arkansas swamp, causing heated coverage and widespread scientific interest. Many experts concluded that the bird was most likely a piled woodpecker.
It is not impossible for a species considered extinct to reappear. Last month, news of the rediscovery of the Black-Browed Babbler, which disappeared since the 1840s, came after two Indonesian men captured and photographed a specimen. A day later, an entomologist announced the discovery of a tiny population – just six specimens – of the Australian capped bee, last seen in 1923.
This is part of the reason why the prospect of filming with thylacine was so appealing to hopeful researchers. Unlike Bigfoot or Nessie, these animals were unquestionably real, were well photographed in life and were extinct almost within living memory. Taking a picture of one does not necessarily seem like an exaggeration.
And in the era of smartphones, cameras are everywhere. In fact, footage from camera traps or amateur naturalists can help establish the presence and activity patterns of animals in the environment, said Holly English, a doctoral student in ecology and wildlife behavior at University College Dublin.
“There are animals that visit my own garden that I only know about through camera traps,” said English.
Photos can also help reveal animals that live in unexpected places. His research on the reproduction of exotic kangaroo populations in Britain, for example, was based in part on images shared on social networks.
Susan Wardle, a neuroscientist at the National Institutes of Health in the United States, says that the cycles of expectation broken by a deeper analysis can be explained in part by human psychological peculiarities.
Processing each individual sensory detail is impossible, she says, so our brain actively reconstructs our visual world based on the complex but ambiguous input received by our eyes. Research has shown that unclear sensory data – like a blurred image – makes the brain rely more on preconceived patterns to understand it.
“This means that there is an interesting interaction between perception and cognition – our previous beliefs and experiences can influence what we see. Or, more precisely, what we think we see, ”said Dr. Wardle.
This tendency can lead people to error when studying photographic evidence from long-invisible animals, sometimes called cryptids, especially if they already have an idea of what they are looking for. Many people looking for these enigmatic creatures have an emotional investment in identifying them “and are already convinced that the creatures already exist,” said Christopher French, who founded the Anomalistic Psychology Research Unit at Goldsmiths, University of London, and recently retired.
This pre-existing belief makes it easier to start seeing the quarry in every shadow and rustling brush, adds French, or in photographs that do not offer a clear view of the animal in question. It can also make people really miss details that may contradict their preferred assumptions.
In a YouTube video posted on February 23, Mr. Waters, a former professional horticulturist, claimed that he had captured footage that proved that the thylacine was alive. Passing through a landscape of felled trees, he described the installation of camera traps in the Tasmanian bush and the capture of four “unambiguous” static images of a family of thylacines.
Thylacine populations began to decline shortly after European settlers arrived in Tasmania, an island south of the Australian continent, in 1803, sifted by government-sponsored hunting, wild dog competition, habitat loss and disease. The last known individual, “Benjamin,” died in captivity in 1936, leaving behind only scary pieces of footage.
There were reports of sightings in the decades that followed, which drew several expeditions into the wilderness of Tasmania in search of survivors, said Darren Naish, a paleozoologist at the University of Southampton in England. None were successful. However, reported sightings continued and even increased in the 1980s, and are still reported today.
“This suggests that sightings are a social phenomenon, not a zoo,” said Naish.
Waters sent his photos to the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery for analysis by Nick Mooney, a specialist in thylacine. He and his colleagues disproved Waters’ claims.
“TMAG regularly receives requests for verification from members of the public who hope that thylacine is still with us,” the museum said in a statement. “Based on the physical characteristics shown in the photos provided by Mr. Waters, it is very unlikely that the animals are thylacine.”
Instead, he said they are probably Tasmanian bullies, a sturdy little marsupial that resembles a wallaby.
Many sightings of thylacines are similar misidentifications, said Adam Pask, a thylacine researcher at the University of Melbourne. “There are some wild dogs roaming Tasmania,” said Pask. “So it is very easy to locate an animal that looks like ‘thylacine’ in the bush if you look closely and want to see enough.”
These types of errors are common, said Naish, in part because even people experienced in outdoor activities and researchers are not always adept at identifying animals from unknown angles or states. Size and distance can be difficult to judge in photographs, making domestic cats look like big cats. Subtract the fur, as in a rotten raccoon or mangy fox carcass, and even familiar mammals can look deeply mysterious – or like an extinct marsupial predator.
“We all make mistakes: even the most experienced naturalists make mistakes in identification, sometimes even hilarious,” said Naish. However, those who are dedicated to hunting enigmatic animals tend to accept more ambiguous footage, while rejecting the critical opinions of qualified experts.
“The most widespread cognitive bias that we all suffer from is confirmation bias,” said French. If you are investing in finding the cryptid you are looking for, the evidence is more likely to be convincing.
On March 1, Waters – who did not return several requests for comment – released the photos as part of a 19-minute video, asking viewers to “decide for themselves”. In a subsequent interview with News.com.au, he said that the response to his photos by expert analysts gave him “more fire in my belly to prove they were wrong”.
“It won’t be long,” said Waters. “Because we are very close to obtaining irrefutable proof that the animal is still here.”