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The Herald reports a bidding war over cuttings from a tree:

Botanists, nursery owners, a hospital and a government department were among those bidding for the first generation of Wollemi pines grown outside the wild. But the mystery bidder who paid $115,000 for one lot of 15 trees had the auction crowd agog.

What’s the most bizarre thing about this whole affair? Is it the vast sum of money paid for a tree? Is it that the tree has its own website? Is it the secrecy of the whole thing–anonymous telephone bidders, white gloves, chalk marks left on telegraph poles, secret signals, and all that?

No, the most truly bizarre thing about the idea of an ancient tree auction is the total disconnect that the bidders must have between their ideas of botany and the problems of the environment. It’s true that it’s a very cool and very old species of tree. Like most old things, it’s probably a good idea to take special steps to preserve it.

Some actions in the name of preservation, though, like tree auctions, show a total misunderstaning of what preservation is about. Captain James Cook’s cottage, in another similar example, was dismantled in 1933, shipped across the world, and rebuilt in Melbourne. The Melbourne City Council even today totally misunderstands the process by calling it “the only 18th Century building in Melbourne”. Not quite. It’s a 1930s building made of 18th Century bricks.

Preservation has to also be about context. There’s little point in shipping out a cottage while nineteenth-century buildings are being demolished, in the same way there’s little point in fundraising for ancient trees at the same time as old-growth logging is going on. Some priorities might be in order for the tree-lovers of the world. Buy the tree, use less paper.