It’s that time of year when there’s less incentive to be enjoying the great outdoors. Temperatures are dropping, days are drawing in and many of our summer visitors have headed for warmer and drier climes. However, there’s one natural winter spectacle that never fails to draw an audience – starling murmurations. Thousands, or hundreds of thousands, of birds flying in one synchronous, swirling cloud, creating fluid shapes against the darkening late afternoon light before pouring out of the sky into their chosen roost.
The ‘how’ and ‘why’ of starling murmurations are age-old questions – how do so many birds manage to coordinate their movement without crashing into one another and why do they do it? The answer to the first question appears to be down to quick reactions, high levels of self-awareness and careful attention to what six or seven of their immediate neighbours are doing. Of course, I’ve just grossly paraphrased a whole industry of scientific research that not only draws on behavioural ecology but also involves physics and maths, neither of which were my strongest subjects at school. As such, I’m happy to take the final conclusions of ‘how’ at face value, and will leave it to you to take your own foray into the scientific literature if you want to become more learned on the subject!
The ‘why’ of starling murmurations (and indeed of flocking, herding or shoaling behaviour of many different species) has various explanations and one common to all of these examples of aggregative behaviour is that of predator avoidance. There’s safety in numbers - not only are the odds of being scoffed much reduced if you’re just one tasty morsel amongst thousands of other tasty morsels, but it’s a lot harder for a predator to select which tasty morsel to grab when faced with a moving mass of them. It’s also easier to spot a potential predator if there are many pairs of eyes looking out for them. However, a fuller explanation is more nuanced and benefits from a delve in to W.D. Hamilton’s Selfish Herd Theory, first published in 1971. Hamilton proposed that it’s not just a case of being one of many, but also of using the rest of the crowd to distance yourself from the predator and ensure that there are others between you and them. In many cases, being in the middle of the aggregation is the best place to be – being on the edge puts you at greater risk of being predated; in migrating herds, your best bet is to be at the front, not trailing along at the rear. In the case of starlings, researchers have shown that at roost sites with a low perceived predation risk, flocks tended to be smaller or even had singleton birds whereas higher predation risk was associated with bigger and more compact flocks. The benefits of being in the middle of a flock rather than on the edge are self-evident when there’s a hungry sparrowhawk scouting the skies, but even being on the edge is still better than being out on your own.
That provides an explanation for some of the ‘why’ but surely, if it’s all about avoiding being eaten, you’d be better off heading straight into the roost and getting a prime spot in the middle rather than spending time showing off your aerial acrobatics to an audience that is intent on grabbing you and eating you? In fact, studies suggest the opposite, with birds being likely to spend longer in their aerial display when predators are about, and then all dropping into their chosen roost location in a single synchronised movement. It seems to be all about sticking together, attracting as many birds as possible to join in, and delaying the descent into roost for as long as possible, all reducing the chances of any one individual being picked out.