Southeastern Naturalist R.F. Noss 2017 ii Vol. 16 Special Issue 10 Foreword Reed F. Noss* Natural history is often viewed as a pre-science, because it is largely observational and descriptive. Real scientists, in this view, wear white lab coats and conduct experiments. Often, they map genomes and edit DNA. If they do field work, everything is presumably strictly controlled, replicated, and rigorous. Computer modeling in various forms has become the mainstay of my field, ecology, and it has proven extremely useful in understanding patterns and processes that cannot be easily observed. Perhaps its special value lies in predicting alternative futures, given different assumptions about conditions and trends. Experimental science, ever more powerful computers, and sophisticated modeling have produced enormous benefits for society. Yet, most of the best ecologists, evolutionary biologists, and conservation biologists I’ve known or read about are also excellent field naturalists. Increasingly, they are not even ashamed to admit it. They seem to be dying off, however, at a faster rate than they are being replenished. This must change. There are a few encouraging signs that natural history is on the upswing. For several years now, one of the official Sections of the Ecological Society of America (ESA) is the Natural History Section, which is large and thriving. One of ESA’s journals, Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment, recently added a section called “Natural History Notes”. More recently, ESA’s flagship journal, Ecology, added a section called “The Scientific Naturalist”. And The American Naturalist, founded in 1867 as a natural history journal, but which in the late 20th century shifted almost entirely to theory (with lots of math), has gone partly back to its roots by adding a section, "Natural History Miscellany", which had been part of the original journal from 1867 to 1872. In many states, native plant societies and other natural historyoriented groups are thriving, as are Master Naturalist programs and citizen science projects involving field research. Despite these positive trends, natural history remains in general decline. This is most obvious in our natural history museums and universities. Although I do not have hard data, I hear virtually everywhere that natural history museums are reducing their staffs. Some no longer focus on natural history and have changed their names. The Dayton Museum of Natural History, in Dayton, Ohio, one of the main places I learned natural history as a child, has changed its name to the Boonshoft Museum of Discovery. On a recent visit there, I was sickened to see and hear screaming kids running around, playing games, and climbing on indoor playground equipment. The natural history exhibits I enjoyed so much as a kid were virtually gone. For example, in one of the most fossiliferous (Paleozoic) regions of the country, I could no longer find the fossil exhibits. Viewing those fossils in the museum and outdoors is where I first learned about extinction and pondered the meaning of something so final. *Florida Institute for Conservation Science, Chuluota, FL; reedf noss@gmail.com. The Outdoor Classroom 2017 Southeastern Naturalist 16(Special Issue 10):ii–iii Southeastern Naturalist iii R.F. Noss 2017 Vol. 16, Special Issue 10 American universities, with a few exceptions, have been particularly hard on naturalists in recent years. In the good old days, faculty were rewarded, tenured, and promoted in large part based on their publication records. We all know the saying “publish or perish”. That’s generally not true anymore, and the reason is money. Back when publications and scholarship were thought important, a field naturalist could publish as much as a “gene jock” and be similarly rewarded. The function of the university administration was to serve the faculty, so that they could teach and conduct research optimally. Now the tables have turned at many universities to a strict top-down authoritarian model, where faculty work for the administration and are rewarded primarily on how much grant and contract money they bring in. Large-overhead federal grants are particularly well rewarded, because overhead pays the administrators’ salaries, which at the top levels are seriously bloated. A field biologist usually doesn’t need nearly as much fancy, expensive equipment as a molecular or biomedical biologist, and grants for field biology and natural history are few and tiny compared to grants for biomedical research, genomics, and other branches of molecular biology. Thus, it is no coincidence that field biologists and naturalists in universities are routinely replaced by molecular scientists when they retire or otherwise leave. Most disappointing to me is the pathetically low knowledge of natural history among most biology students in college. I have taught mostly graduate courses with a field component. I would expect the students, who generally have undergraduate biology degrees, to know something about taxonomy and life histories of organisms, and be able to identify many in the field. With very few exceptions, they don’t and can’t. Apparently, they were taught little natural history during their primary, secondary, and undergraduate education, and did not take the time to acquire such knowledge on their own. The good news is the vast majority of students LOVE the field trips and acquire some pretty darn good natural history skills by the end of the class. To counter these worrisome trends, natural history education, outdoor environmental education, or whatever we want to call it, is essential. I am proud that I began my career in this field, as it shaped everything I’ve done since. The articles in this special issue demonstrate how field stations, campus natural areas, museum collections, and experiences in field biological research greatly enrich the lives of students at all levels, from elementary school to college. The case studies described in these articles are diverse, and they demonstrate the many ways that natural history education can be taught successfully. My hat is off to the editors of the Southeastern Naturalist for bringing these papers together into a publication, which hopefully will reach many and have some influence on the way science education is conducted.