Sea Lions sprawl on a Galápagos beach. Photograph © Wolfgang Kaehler/CORBIS

Galápagos Islands
By Stephen Jay Gould

The exposure and debunking of warm and fuzzy mythology must not be regarded as a grim duty of dry and heartless scholars—for accuracy can only enhance both our intellectual fascination and our aesthetic wonder. The myth of wilderness drives ecotourism—the quest for primal beauty, variety and innocence, untouched by human malfeasance.

Many prospective visitors regard the Galápagos Islands as the incarnation of such dreams—isolated, ecologically rich, protected from human distortion and therefore revealing nature in her pristine propriety. The Galápagos should indeed rank high on the itinerary of any traveler dedicated to natural history, but for opposite reasons. The Galápagos fauna is almost maximally depauperate—poor in diversity. Moreover, its importance for travelers and scientists alike stems mainly from its role in the history of human thought.

Both geographic isolation and geological substrate (largely new and rocky volcanic terrain, lacking rich soils and complex floral communities) have severely restricted the diversity of animal life. But this limitation defines the primary intrigue and fascination of the Galápagos—a feature specially noted by Darwin on his defining visit in the 1830s. No large predators reached the Galápagos, so the native fauna evolved no fear of large creatures, including humans. Consequently, visitors can approach any Galápagos animal for an eyeball-to-eyeball view. Moreover, the few species maintain large and conspicuous populations, rendering observation all the more memorable. By contrast, the vastly greater diversity of our tropical rain forests tends to stay well and frustratingly out of sight.

Again contrary to wilderness mythology, our interest in the Galápagos has been defined by the fauna's role in human discovery, not by its isolation. Darwin did not see or prove evolution from his Galápagos investigations. But when he returned to London in 1836 and began to integrate his Beagle observations with his readings and musings about biological theory, his memories of these islands potentiated and invigorated his evolutionary ideas—thus leading to the greatest discovery in the history of biological thought.

The Galápagos fauna therefore becomes an appropriate symbol for a necessary alliance of art and nature in our quest for human understanding, and our need to nurture respect for nature's bounty and our inextricable role as one little twig on life's luxuriant evolutionary bush. A little twig, but also, in Blaise Pascal's memorable line, a thinking reed. If we can use this unique property of consciousness to maintain the fragile Galápagos fauna while we visit and enjoy, then we might finally fulfill Darwin's legacy by recognizing both the fruits and the responsibilities of our evolutionary intertwining, and by rejecting our greatest prideful error: a supposedly natural right for domination.

The information in this story was accurate at the time it was published, but we suggest you confirm all details before making travel plans.