Shirley Wong

It's gotten to the point where some of my vegan friends who are vegan for ethical reasons will make an exception for kangaroos because hunting them helps control the population.

The excess number of kangaroos is a genuine problem in Australia.

But the impacts of the dingo fence go beyond wildlife.

On the dingo side, there are more grasses and leafy ground cover, while on the side without dingoes, there are more dry, woody shrubs.

The fence has created essentially two different ecological universes on either side.

All of this is the ecological price that Australia keeps paying year after year to keep a whole bunch of sheep safe.

But the thing is, the wool industry isn't really what it used to be, and sheep are no longer the backbone of the economy.

What are the conversations around the fence these days?

Like, do people want to tear them down?

Here's Justine Phillip again.

She says the fence is a symbol of Australia's agricultural heritage.

And for politicians who want to show support for farmers, the dingo fence must be upheld.

To suggest even that you take it down is considered very un-Australian.

I have to admit, I was a bit confused hearing Justine say this.

I mean, sure, the fence is iconic, unique, totally Australian.

But I kept thinking, so is the dingo.

Growing up, even Justine believed this.

People didn't start to appreciate the dingo until the 1960s, when scientists, including Thomas Newsom's dad, Alan, began conducting in-depth research on how unique the dingo truly was.

But the fact is, dingoes evolved in Australia, and over centuries, they came to thrive in a range of habitats all over the continent, from the desert to the tropical rainforest to the Australian Alps.

They eventually spent enough time in Australia that they became genetically distinct from their ancestors, meaning the modern dingo has never lived anywhere else.