450,000 Barred Owls Could Be Shot to Save the Spotted Owl: Here’s Why Scientists Say It’s Working

Klamath National Forest, California, MMN Correspondent: Imagine walking through a silent forest at midnight. You hear a call—a deep, rhythmic hoot—and you raise a shotgun. This isn’t a scene from a thriller. It’s the front line of one of the most ambitious and controversial conservation experiments in American history.

In the dense forests of Northern California, a quiet but relentless effort is unfolding. It’s not about drones or tanks. It’s about shotguns, speakers, and the steady hands of scientists. At the center of this story are two owl species locked in a struggle for survival: the threatened northern spotted owl and the invasive barred owl. What started as an ecological curiosity has grown into a large-scale program where thousands of one bird are removed to give the other a fighting chance.

The northern spotted owl first became a symbol of environmental protection in 1990 when it was listed under the U.S. Endangered Species Act. Decades of logging had stripped away its old-growth forest home. The listing led to the landmark 1994 Northwest Forest Plan, which halted most timber harvesting on federal lands across Washington, Oregon, and California. For a while, it looked like the owl had been saved. But then a new challenge appeared—one that no amount of forest preservation could solve.

Barred owls are originally from eastern North America. They began moving west in the early 1900s. By the 1950s, they reached British Columbia. Over the next decades, they pushed south through Canada and into the Pacific Northwest. As they arrived, spotted owl numbers began to drop. Scientists soon understood why: barred owls are bigger, more aggressive, and breed faster. They also adapt to a wider range of habitats. They outcompete spotted owls for food and nesting sites, often pushing them out of their own territories.

The numbers tell a clear story. A barred owl can weigh up to 1050 grams—about 20 percent more than a spotted owl. It lays two to three eggs each year, while the spotted owl lays just one or two every other year. Barred owls eat almost anything: rodents, birds, reptiles, amphibians, fish, and insects. Spotted owls depend on specific prey like flying squirrels and red tree voles. Barred owls need only 3 to 6 square kilometers of habitat. Spotted owls require 13 to 17 square kilometers of mature forest. This ecological advantage lets barred owls thrive even in fragmented landscapes.

By the early 2000s, researchers began asking whether the two species could coexist. In 2009, a pilot study in Northern California showed that removing barred owls helped stabilize spotted owl numbers. Encouraged by these results, federal agencies launched larger experiments across Washington, Oregon, and California. By 2019, over 2,400 barred owls had been removed. A follow-up study in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences confirmed the trend: where barred owls were removed, spotted owl populations stabilized. In control areas, they declined by 12 percent each year.

Today, the effort has expanded dramatically. Under a federal plan unveiled in 2024, teams of specially trained biologists are working to create protected refuges for spotted owls across 50,000 square kilometers—more than twice the size of New Jersey. Over 30 years, this could involve the removal of up to 450,000 barred owls. The work isn’t limited to remote forests. In Marin County, near San Francisco, a barred owl was recently detected—the first known to cross the Golden Gate Bridge into territory occupied by California spotted owls. These incursions show how urgent the situation has become.

At the forefront of this mission is Danny Hofstadter, a wildlife ecologist from the University of Wisconsin–Madison. He used to be a vegetarian and an amateur bonsai enthusiast. Now he spends nights patrolling backcountry roads in Northern California, using audio lures to draw in barred owls before dispatching them with a shotgun. Since 2020, he and his team have removed nearly 3,400 barred owls across more than 13,000 square kilometers. Their goal is to find out if large-scale removal can create lasting recovery zones for spotted owls.

The results so far are encouraging. In the Klamath National Forest and surrounding areas, spotted owl numbers have stabilized. In some places, the birds have returned to former nesting sites. DNA analysis of stomach contents from removed barred owls revealed they had consumed 162 different species—including at-risk animals like the northern leopard frog and western gray squirrel. This shows how disruptive barred owls can be to local ecosystems.

Still, the campaign is not without its critics. Animal welfare groups call the killings ethically questionable and describe it as a ‘killing treadmill’ that may never stop. Some conservationists argue that resources should go toward habitat restoration or climate resilience instead. But proponents, including biologist Joe Liebezeit of Bird Alliance of Oregon, say that without intervention, the northern spotted owl will disappear from much of its historic range within a decade.

One of the most compelling success stories comes from the Hoopa Valley Indian Reservation. Tribal biologist Mark Higley has been leading a 13-year effort to remove barred owls on reservation land. His records show over 900 barred owls removed. As a result, spotted owl pairs increased from 12 to around 20—still below historical levels, but a sign of hope. “If we hadn’t started shooting, there would be no spotted owls left,” Higley says firmly.

Technology is helping refine the strategy. Researchers are testing satellite-linked audio recorders that send real-time alerts when a barred owl hoots, allowing shooters to respond quickly. Teams now refer to themselves as ‘my little army,’ reflecting the precision and coordination required. Even AI-driven monitoring systems are being developed to detect owl calls from drone footage.

Despite progress, funding remains uncertain. Most projects rely on short-term grants, including state cannabis taxes and private foundations. The largest current grant—$4.5 million—is set to expire in 2028. Long-term stability depends on sustained political and financial commitment.

Looking ahead, scientists believe the most effective strategy lies in targeting areas where spotted owls still persist in significant numbers—primarily California and southern Oregon. Computer models suggest that investing in Washington and central Oregon is less cost-effective due to critically low spotted owl populations.

The fate of the northern spotted owl now hinges on a single, uncomfortable truth: saving a species may require managing another. As Hofstadter puts it, “I want to be straddling the research and boots on the ground.” His work embodies a new era of conservation—one where science, ethics, and survival meet in the shadow of ancient forests.

This is not just about saving an owl. It’s about redefining what it means to protect biodiversity in a world reshaped by human activity and climate change. The owl wars may be difficult, but they are also a testament to the lengths humanity will go to preserve the natural world.