Queensland and much of northern Australia are overrun with cane toads - an invasion so vast that most people have forgotten how it all began.
Back in 1935, someone had the bright idea to import these warty warriors from Hawaii to deal with beetles chewing through the sugar cane. The toads were meant to be heroes. Instead, they became villains.
Three thousand of them were released into the cane fields of North Queensland, hailed as a scientific solution to a farming problem. But the experts failed to predict one small detail: the beetles they were meant to eat lived on top of the sugar cane, and the toads couldn’t climb.
Like so many species, introducing new species into a foreign land does not always work out that way.
The Cane Toad, rather than becoming salvation, became a new pest. A new nuisance. A pestilence that spread and has become out of control. It kills native wildlife and decimates much within its path as it spreads throughout our nation.
OOPS.
Rather than solving the problem, the toads became the problem. They spread faster than government excuses, breeding in every puddle, dam, and dog bowl in sight. Today, it’s estimated that there are more than 200 million cane toads across Australia - and counting.
These toxic little creatures have poisoned our native wildlife, wiped out goannas and quolls, and turned parts of the north into ecological graveyards. Their toxic skin kills almost anything that tries to eat them.
And yet, despite ninety years of “management plans,” the toads are still marching west at up to 60 kilometres a year. The bureaucrats are still scratching their heads, and the “experts” are still writing reports.
OOPS again.
The cane toad fiasco should have been a lesson: never introduce a foreign species without knowing exactly what you’re doing. But governments never seem to learn. They introduce, experiment, apologise - and then appoint another committee to fix the mess they made.
It’s a familiar pattern, isn’t it? Whether it’s toads, policies, or social experiments, they let something loose, watch it multiply, and then tell us we should feel sorry for the consequences.
Apparently, we’re meant to pity the poor cane toad - the misunderstood migrant who just wanted a home. But out in the paddocks and the backyards of Queensland, there’s not much sympathy left.
The truth is, the cane toad story isn’t just about biology. It’s about the arrogance of “experts” and the blindness of bureaucracy. A reminder that every time a government says, “Trust us, we’ve got a plan,” we might soon be hearing that familiar refrain:
OOPS.
But we are supposed to feel sorry for them.
Here is my story of the way the government wishes to see our " cane toad invasion. "
After they introduce a foreign species And it goes bugger up, we are supposed to feel sorry for the imported pest.
Read it and weep.
And so ends my story of imports who come to our countries and the lesson to be learned.
If only they had never congregated under our lamp posts. And if only we could do what we used to do....
It worries me that the Cane Toads are out of control...
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