The Museum of London has chosen a defecating pigeon as its logo – a symbol of duality, rebellion and immigration

Following the relocation of the Museum of London from London Wall to the former Smithfield Market building, it has reverted to its ancient name, Museum of Londonand chose a completely fresh logo – a pigeon taking a dump.

The fresh design features a white porcelain dove trailed by a golden “spot,” a choice that museum director Sharon Ament interprets as London metaphor:”The dove and the stain refer to a historical place full of duality, a place where roughness and shine have coexisted for millennia.”

IN blog postthe museum explains that the pigeon was chosen because it had survived for a thousand years “an impartial and modest observer of London life”watching over the changing city and ultimately becoming an icon of London.

As far as brand identity goes, it’s a bold choice. It’s secure to say it’s caused some surprise: some have called it vulgar, embarrassing, and waste of money. Some of these reactions clearly regard the pigeon not only as irrelevant and insignificant, but also as repulsive.

This is all very understandable. Probably our least favourite feathered friend (apart from, perhaps, the antisocial seagull), the city pigeon has long been considered a public nuisance in the UK.

Pigeon droppings are an obvious problemconsidering that one pigeon sheds about 11 kg of droppings per year. A flock of 80 pigeons (and pigeons like to gather) will produce almost a ton of droppings in the same period. Public buildings and sculptures lose their gravitas when covered in pigeon poop. But more importantly, diseases associated with pigeon droppings include the fungal lung infections cryptococcosis and histoplasmosis, and the infectious disease psittacosis, known as ornithosis.

It is no wonder that pigeons have become a highly undesirable pest throughout the world – “rats with wings” as Novel York City Parks Commissioner Thomas Hoving put it in the 1960s.

In cities around the world, pigeons are actively deterred using spikes, netting, and other inexpensive deterrents that act as either “defense” or (perhaps more honestly) “hostile” architectureThe message is clear: pigeons are not welcome here.

Read more: Why you should have more compassion for seagulls – and how to stop them from stealing your chips

Pigeon PR

The war on pigeons seems to be a display of pride. Pigeons still find places to sleep, even with shiny new achievementsTheir rivals the seagulls come for a snack pigeon corpses trapped in bird nets. Crows and magpies have learned build nests with spikes against birds. Nature finds a way, even in cities designed to keep it out.

There is a case to be made for recognising the ingenuity not only of the clever corvids and the cunning gulls, but also of the resilience and opportunism of the city pigeon. As the Museum of London points out, the pigeon has been around for a long time, descended from domesticated pigeons introduced after the Norman Conquest. In escaping from their dovecotes, the birds followed the instincts of the rock pigeon, but swapped the sea cliffs for the eaves, lintels and architraves of the city.

They are truly an admirable example urban wildlife that nature lovers and urban ecologists began to celebrate. As Ament rightly noted indicates: “We share our city with others, including millions of animals. Pigeons are everywhere in London, just like us.”

Implicit in the anti-pigeon line is the fact that the pigeon, like many people, is too easily portrayed as out of place. Urban pigeons are, according to the sociologist, Colin Jerolmack: “clear intruders in spaces we have deemed to be for humans only.” This makes them vulnerable, but in the same way that some humans become vulnerable.

It was recognized that antipathy towards urban animals is worryingly quickly turning into ill-treatment of people, such as the homeless, who suffer from the exploit of “defensive architecture” to drive them out of city centers: a decent society would not treat people as pests.

Even more disturbing is the repression against unwanted migrants. I wrote elsewhere that the histories of pigeons have become strangely intertwined with those of migration from the Caribbean to London and Britain. There is an uncomfortable parallel between the histories of pigeons and humans, once welcomed, even celebrated, but increasingly denigrated to the point of creating “hostile environments.” As blogger Tim Hamlett put it, pigeons are “another immigrant group we don’t like”.

It doesn’t have to be that way. Colombian artist Iván Argote has been commissioned to install a 16-foot hyperrealistic sculpture of a pigeon in Novel York City’s High Line public park. What is the purpose of this giant pigeon, perched ominously over Manhattan’s West Side? Argote wants to remind us that we are all immigrants in some way, and we shouldn’t be so quick to decide who gets to stay and who gets to be deported (or worse).

As Artistic Director and Chief Curator of the High Line, Cecilia Alemani puts it down: “It’s a sculpture that touches on many other quite profound issues, such as the relationship between the human and animal worlds, as well as issues of immigration and who has the right to be a guest in Novel York.”

So I’m all for the London Museum and its pooping pigeon. The controversial rebranding draws attention to London’s long history, the stories of its many different communities and their paths to the capital, but also to the contributions of its lesser-liked residents, even those with wings. These humble birds could do with a PR boost. As a friend said to the pigeons in my hometown of Nottingham: “Every pigeon deserves love.”

Looking for something good? Cut through the noise with a handpicked selection of the latest releases, live events and exhibitions, delivered straight to your inbox every two weeks on Fridays. Sign up here.