Chronicle: When anecdotes and other unconfirmed information become “new” species/subspecies on social media - a challenge for aviculture
How often have we seen it? An aviculturist describes a personal observation of a bird that is slightly larger, slightly redder, slightly different, and the conclusion comes instantly: “It must be a new subspecies!” … or something similar.
But what actually happens when personal impressions are elevated to facts, often via social media? This chronicle concerns anecdotal narratives versus scientific documentation.
When feelings and personal impressions override data
Within the serious side of aviculture, understanding species variation is based on documentation, taxonomy, genetic analyses and morphology. Yet again and again we see anecdotal stories among aviculturists presented as “evidence” of “new” species, subspecies or “local forms”. This is a growing problem, not only scientifically, but also in practice for everyone striving to conduct responsible, fact-based breeding. The central issue is not that people observe differences between birds. We all do. The problem arises when personal observations alone are used as the basis for challenging established science and taxonomy.
When is something scientifically documented, and when is it merely a personal interpretation? The question is simple, yet it creates a deep divide between the serious aviculturist and the far more anecdotal approach that increasingly dominates social media. This is not just disagreement - the problem is that opinions are far too easily perceived as facts when enough people repeat them.
Why personal observations can never stand alone
A bird may vary in size, colour intensity, tail or wing length, feather structure, weight, lighting conditions in photos, age, sex and nutritional status. These variations represent nature’s norm, not the exception.
Variation among individuals within the same population can be greater than many expect. Even highly experienced aviculturists, including those with decades of experience, can be misled by photo conditions, differing lenses, angles, lighting, subjective impressions and atypical individuals.
This is why modern taxonomy was created - to provide objective frameworks, standardised measuring and working methods, and reproducible results that do not depend on a single person’s observations and experiences.
I have been fortunate enough to be granted access to the Natural History Museum of Denmark’s (University of Copenhagen) collection of study skins of the Red-faced Lovebird. This collection also includes the subspecies Eastern Red-faced Lovebird (Agapornis p. ugandae), which is said to differ from the nominate subspecies, the Western Red-faced Lovebird (Agapornis p. pullarius), primarily by having significantly paler - or in some cases no - blue upper tail coverts, or merely a faint bluish tinge in females. In principle, both forms are of similar overall body size, and all specimens shown here are adults.The two skins on the left belong to the Eastern subspecies, with the specimen on the far left being exceptionally large, both in length and in weight, when held in the hand. Also note the size differences among the remaining specimens, where the two birds on the right likewise stand out as notably large. All these differences are an expression of naturally occurring species variance.
The scientific approach - more than just "differences in pictures"
For the serious aviculturist, the starting point is always the same: What does the research say, which data support the conclusions, and what is internationally recognised? When science evaluates whether something constitutes a distinct species or subspecies, it relies on:
- A large number of individuals - many birds, not one or two or just a few
- Genetic analyses - both mtDNA and DNA
- Morphological measurements following standardised protocols and working methods
- Geographical representation - comparisons of birds from across the entire range
- Statistical significance, not mere subjective impressions
- Historical Museum material, not only live birds in their natural habitats.
This approach ensures that conclusions depend on robust data, often gathered over decades or longer, not on single observations. For this reason, the scientifically recognised forms within a species may be fewer than the variants visually encountered in aviculture or on Facebook.
In short: Science examines the entire picture, not just one bird, one breeding pair or one personal experience. This holistic view disappears entirely when discussions are based instead on aviculturists’ isolated personal observations, which are often not representative at all.
Within the same debate on species and subspecies status, we also see the opposite development from science: When solid morphological and genetic data show that previously described subspecies are not sufficiently distinct, they are reclassified and sometimes even merged. A recent example concerns the Eclectus Parrots, where Eclectus roratus aruensis and E. roratus biaki are now treated as variants within Eclectus roratus polychloros, which itself has been elevated from subspecies status to full species status as Eclectus polychloros. This illustrates that taxonomy does not always move towards “more types”, but towards more precise and scientifically robust delimitations, especially those based on genetic data. The point is that science adjusts itself according to data, not wishful thinking or tradition.
Anecdotes - the biggest pitfall in modern aviculture
Anecdotal knowledge is easy to fall for. It feels immediately convincing when an aviculturist says:
“Well, I’ve seen it myself in Peru, so it must be true”. But anecdotes are precisely that: Personal observations without systematics, without controls and without comparative context.
Anecdotes are powerful because they are personal and easy to relate to. They often come from people one trusts, and they are frequently accompanied by photos that appear to show clear differences. But an anecdote is not evidence. Individual birds can always deviate from the norm without representing a new form, and variation is not the same as taxonomic separation.
When an aviculturist “concludes” that he possesses “a special subspecies” or “a local form”, it often stems from:
- The desire to own something unique
- Lack of knowledge about scientific sources and methods
- Incorrect information from former owners
- Confusion of individual differences with population traits
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Lack of knowledge about natural species variance caused by different geographical living conditions, etc., including lack of understanding that large birds often appear more varied because the differences are easier to see and because they have been better documented historically.
This does not mean the observations are worthless, but their explanatory value is limited.
Within aviculture, differences in size, colour or behaviour may easily be caused by:
- Nutrition
- Local environmental conditions
- Individual variation
- Small populations with random traits
- Hybridisation
- Or a simple misjudgement.
Yet to the anecdotal storyteller, these small differences become “new species”, “local subspecies” or similar, often without any form of documentation. The biggest issue is not the anecdote itself, but the number of people who accept it uncritically.
Aru Red-sided Eclectus Parrots (Eclectus roratus aruensis), long recognized in science as an independent subspecies, are now - according to some updated taxonomies - incorporated under the from New Guinea coming, Papuan Red-sided Eclectus Parrot (Eclectus roratus polychloros), which itself has been elevated to full species status as Eclectus polychloros. Consequently, the originally recognized Aru subspecies is now regarded solely as an expression of natural species variation within the Papuan Red-sided Eclectus Parrot (Eclectus polychloros). The same applies to the Biaki Red-sided Eclectus Parrot (Eclectus roratus biaki). These are examples of how science, in this case, is moving in the opposite direction of anecdotal trends and, based on new genetic studies, is reducing the number of subspecies. However, this does not change the fact that birds originating from the Aru Islands still have longer tails, are sleeker build and weigh considerably more than polychloros; nor does it change the fact that birds from Biaki Island are a few centimetres shorter and significantly lighter than both of the other forms (polychloros and birds from the Aru Islands). So going forward, Eclectus polychloros will be a species characterized by large differences among individuals depending on geographic affiliation, resulting in a rich and broad population variation.
How social media inflates opinions into "facts"
On Facebook, YouTube and in various groups, information rarely spreads according to scientific principles. Instead, it spreads according to a much simpler principle: What feels right, and who says it the loudest?
The most popular posts are seldom the ones based on research and supported by science. They are the ones that:
- Show the most spectacular images
- Promise sensational stories
- Challenge “the establishment”
- Appeal to emotion rather than reason.
And here the anecdotal aviculturist gains momentum. A photo of two birds side by side, a few remarks about size, tail width or colour tones, and suddenly one has “proven” the existence of a completely new type. A few likes and shares later, it appears as consensus, even when it contradicts everything scientific research has established. This is not ill will; it is simply the mechanics of modern social media.
When facts clash with anecdotes
This creates a dilemma for the serious aviculturist:
- Should one accept misinformation out of politeness and watch it spread?
- Or defend scientific facts and risk being labelled arrogant or “narrow-minded”?
This is where frustration easily arises, because even when one presents:
- Taxonomic studies
- Genetic data
- Morphological analyses and comparisons
- And peer-reviewed research …
…it can feel like speaking into the void if the other side bases their view on “I think”, “I feel”, “I heard” or "I've seen". Here lies the core of the problem: Personal convictions can be stronger than facts, especially when reinforced by others on social media.
What the serious aviculturist can do instead
The good news is that there is actually a way forward, and that the serious approach makes a real difference for the entire aviculture:
- Continue referring to documented research
Over time this builds respect and credibility, even among those initially sceptical. - Be open to variation, but critical of conclusions
Local differences do not automatically imply new subspecies. - Contribute to education, not conflict
Serious aviculture prevails through professionalism, not volume. - Highlight the difference between anecdotes and data
Many do not realise that research HAS ALREADY examined the species’ entire range, including areas where anecdotal claims usually originate. - Maintain focus on Best Practices
These professional standards distinguish serious aviculture from hobby-based speculations.
What this means for me as an aviculturist
For the serious aviculturist, this discussion has great practical importance:
- Breeding planning
Uncritical acceptance of new “local forms” risks mixing genetic lines unnecessarily or creating pseudo-taxonomies. - Purchasing decisions
The market for “rare local forms” is full of claims that collapse under scientific scrutiny, costing money and genetic integrity. - Communicating reliable information
Basing one’s practice on scientific documentation contributes to a more professional and credible aviculture. - Professional legitimacy
Aligning one’s work with scientifically recognised taxonomy builds trust and authority, including internationally.
Best Practices: A professional guide for modern aviculture
One of the most valuable approaches in aviculture is working according to Best Practices, principles based on:
- Scientific data
- Documented, method-based mass observations over long time periods
- Peer-reviewed research
- Consensus within ornithology and taxonomy.
This means avoiding spontaneous ideas about “new species” or “new subspecies” unless they are supported by robust morphological and genetic studies. This is the difference between a professional, responsible aviculturist and an anecdote-driven one: The former seeks documentation, the latter seeks confirmation.
Conclusion - When we choose knowledge over anecdotes and rumours
In an age where social media can transform a personal observation into a “truth” within minutes, it is more important than ever that someone upholds scientific standards. The serious aviculturist does not push back to being superior. The serious aviculturist pushes back because the biological truth of a species outweighs personal prestige, popular stories or the number of Facebook likes.
For serious aviculturists, this is about professionalism, credibility and contributing positively to global understanding of birds, especially for species where responsible breeding can make a real difference.
Anecdotes may be interesting, but it is scientific data that advances aviculture. This is not a battle between people, it is a battle between methods. And only one of them leads to real knowledge: The one grounded in scientific research, data and documentation. By choosing scientific evidence over anecdotes, we contribute to an aviculture that is more precise, more professional and more sustainable.
That is the difference that defines a serious aviculturist.
Within aviculture, breeders also contribute - for better and for worse - to the creation of artificial intraspecific variation in relation to the birds’ size, colour intensity, and colour patterning. This is due to targeted breeding (artificial) selection, which stands in direct contrast to the natural variation found in wild populations. This phenomenon is seen particularly among the smaller parrot species which, because of their shorter life and breeding cycles, respond far more rapidly to human-driven selection than the larger species. In certain exhibition environments, work is carried out on the basis of predetermined “standard ideals” for how a given species ought preferably to look even though, biologically speaking, it is meaningless to establish human-made norms for naturally occurring species. Nevertheless, such ideals have become widespread in the heavily culture-influenced breeding lines that are often referred to as the hobby’s “domesticated forms”, even though no parrots in any real sense are domesticated like chickens, pigeons, or canaries; the closest are probably the Budgerigars, Lovebirds and the Australian Grass Parakeets. This selection means that breeders, year after year, choose the individuals - and later their offspring - that best match the desired traits. The effect is well documented: Species with short generation times change rapidly under human-driven selection. For this reason, certain species in aviculture today exist in versions that are markedly larger, more colour-saturated, and more “perfect” than what is known from the wild. A clear example can be seen in the Australian parakeet, the Red-vented Bluebonnet (Northiella haematogaster haematorrhoa). The male in the photograph displays not only a far more intense red colour on the wings and the underparts than wild birds; it is also the largest representative of the species I have seen in captivity, comparable in size to the largest natural Eastern Rosellas (Platycercus emimius). An impressive bird, but undoubtedly the result of targeted artificial selection rather than a natural phenomenon.
Conceived/Updated: 12.12.2025 / 12.12.2025
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