Rethinking conservation:
Cancer, communalism, climate change are more linked than you’d think
Originally published in Scroll, September 2018. Click here.
Pathogens, pollution, plastics. Carcinogens in the air, germs in the water, heavy metals in food, endocrine (hormone) disruptors in the environment. Degraded forests, bleached coral reefs, disappearing wildlife, declining biodiversity. Despite the advances of the last 200 years, Earth seems like a bloody unpleasant place to be in the Anthropocene. Not perhaps as bad as some of the dark, brooding dystopian cities seen in Hollywood science fiction movies, not even perhaps as dingy Victorian England (for all barring the aristocrats), but surely getting there. Note that at the heart of all of this imagined dsytopia in fiction is social upheaval (or an alternate social order) but equally, an environmental catastrophe extrapolated.
As Bill Watterson’s creation Calvin states while looking at a tree stump, “Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us.”
We have been aware of environmental issues for a while, notably since the 1960s when Rachel Carson’s book Silent Spring brought attention to it. And it was already part of popular culture, as the satirist-musician-mathematician Tom Lehrer, in his song Pollution, told citizens visiting American cities, “Just two things you must beware, don’t drink the water and don’t breathe air.” This period then spawned wildlife conservation worldwide, notably multinational corporations such as WWF and The Nature Conservancy (and later Conservation International) that have exported their particular brand of conservation worldwide.
Thankfully, there is greater attention to environmental matters and conservation, including in India, than there was even a couple of decades ago. Or, to rephrase it, there is a particular kind of awareness among city-dwelling communities that are the cause of many of the problems in the first place. Environmentalism and conservation have come to represent a narrow set of norms defined by a particular urban elite community that, somewhat ironically in today’s divided world, is similar across cultures, nationalities and ethnicities.
This view of conservation has led to a number of misconceptions, created both by the community and perceptions of it from outside. Here, I set out to debunk some of these myths and then, hopefully, to offer some solutions.
Myth 1: Environment and development are inherently contradictory; ergo, environmentalists want us to return to a Gandhian way of life. If development is indeed for the poor, as governments and corporations argue, then why has inequity grown in so many poor countries? Why, despite increases in gross domestic product, have so many fundamental problems of poverty not been resolved? Environmentalists do not oppose development, just a form of development that benefits certain sections of society and does environmental harm when it need not.
Myth 2: Population growth is the problem. Ever since Paul Ehrich wrote The Population Bomb, this has been a convenient hook to hang environmental problems on. However, Ehrich has been shown to be wrong in nearly every prediction he has made in the last 50 years. Whether at the scale of the globe, of countries, cities or communities, it has been shown that consumption is confined to a few. There is no doubt that population growth in India and China (and elsewhere) should be curbed, and there is a mass of evidence that this can be done, democratically in India (less so in China) through education and empowerment of women (population growth rates have fallen dramatically in most southern states and several others). But this slightly red (perhaps pink) herring distracts from the real problem, namely consumption arising from commodification arising from capitalism (at least a particular form of it).
Myth 3: Nature and humans are separate. While this has been at the core of many conservation ideologies over the decades, a more inclusive notion of conservation involving local communities has become more fashionable in recent years. However, exclusionary notions have reared their ugly head through movements such as Half-Earth, which claim that half of the planet needs to be set aside for nature. Needless to say, the half who have to give stuff up are all conveniently located in the developing tropics, and even there will largely affect the most marginalised, disenfranchised communities. No one is talking about reforesting New York or rewilding Mumbai. Surely, their patron saint must be Thanos (of Avengers fame) who wiped out half of the universe to save it (for entirely environmental reasons). Thanos, at least, did not discriminate and vapourised half quite randomly (using an advanced algorithm, no doubt).
Myth 4: Complete protection of wildlife is a noble goal, ergo any consumptive use is bad. In the world of conservation and resource management, the notion of animal rights has prevented many forms of legitimate resource use. Wildlife can be saved because of their aesthetic appeal for some sections of society, but to demand that everyone do so for the same reason is fascist. Save it to see it and save it to eat it are equally valid cultural reasons.
Unfortunately, it is not only lay persons that confuse animal rights with conservation. Many scholars point out that the two are not compatible and contradict each other. The focus on the individual (in animal rights) versus the collective (at species, landscape or ecosystem levels) in conservation will inevitably result in contradictory actions and outcomes. To be clear, conservationists are not without compassion; in fact, animal welfare (reducing cruelty) and conservation are not incompatible, though they have different goals.
Myth 5: Vegetarianism is environmentally friendly. This is based on the utterly simplistic (political, economic, agronomic, and cultural) premise that there is a loss of energy in the trophic chain, and that it costs more energetically to make a kilo of meat than a kilo of grass. Yes, it does cost more energetically, and of course, no one needs to consume meat the way the West does.
However, our “vegetarian” ways could not possibly be worse for the environment or for our health, especially in India. We need not even consider the historical fact that it was the growth of agrarian societies that led to the expansion of human settlement, war, colonialism and eventually industrial growth that resulted in today’s predicament. Never mind that. Today, we consume enormous quantities of carbohydrate through rice and wheat, and other fertiliser- and pesticide-heavy crops. Both crops are a major cause of the water problems that beset our country, and rice has been to shown to have a much greater climate impact than thought before.
We have done everything from building unsustainable dams to ridiculous river linking projects to feed this thirsty crop. Recent studies show that water consumption can be reduced by a third and nutrition increased by changing cropping patterns in India. In fact, the latest research suggests that water consumption can be reduced by upto 35% by healthy diets containing meat; and by up to 50% by healthy pescetarian diets. And let us not even get started on sugar, the most widely available addictive substance on the planet that has substantial environmental and human health consequences.
Additionally, vegetarianism in India comes with its problematic moral and communal baggage. For many communities that live off the land by gathering, hunting and fishing, vegetarianism and gentrification creates nutritional problems, and loss of traditional ways of life, culture, knowledge and identity.
Finally, there are energy trade-offs in everything we do. Take flights, drive cars, buy furniture, order takeaway. It all adds up. Campaigning with religious fervour against some forms of food (or plastic or energy) consumption that do not add up to a worse carbon footprint than most other urban habits is just that, a new religion.
So, what do we need to do? There are some fundamental principles we need to follow to make environmentalism a universal rather than an elite doctrine, and to pave the way for a happier planet.
Step 1: Connect with nature. But not just in a rich people way. We need to be more inclusive in how we think about the environment. From our views on politics to religion to our relationship with nature, we need to build greater diversity and tolerance. Some people will be vegetarian, some will eat meat (while promoting humane practices), others will hunt and fish. Helping communities preserve these connections (rather than moving them away) is critical to strengthening support and building a wider constituency for environmental conservation. In addition, creating empathy for and engagement with the environment for the new, largely urban generation who have long been divorced from nature is essential.
Step 2: Connect with carbon. Some of us will live in cities, others in a variety of other places, and our impacts will differ. Why is it reasonable to retire to a Swiss chalet to be part of nature (after a lifetime of carbon consumption) but unacceptable to live in a forest or by the sea where your family has for centuries? Plastics have received a really bad rap, especially marine plastics in the last few months (thanks, Blue Planet 2), but often the alternative is worse. We need to first be aware of the carbon and biodiversity (and water) costs of all our actions and work towards reducing these in totality, at individual, community and societal scales.
Step 3: Connect the dots. We need to stop working in silos. Perhaps our most expensive mistake has been to separate social, environmental and ecological issues. Conservationists believe we need to focus on a few important species and habitats. After all, they argue, the world’s problems will always exist, but forests and biodiversity will disappear forever. This is partially true, but we cannot solve the problems of our time in isolation. Economically poor communities need healthcare, clean water, education for their children. Whether these have direct benefits for environmental conservation or not, they create barriers and impede our ability to create positive change for the environment. Environmental conservation has to be rooted in environmental justice, that embeds itself squarely in social justice.
For all those reading this, the message is not (a) we need not care about the environment, (b) it has gone to pot, there is nothing we can do, (c) it is confusing and so I am going to do nothing about it. The planet may or may not be sick, but we are. Cancer or clinical depression, communalism, climate change. Individual, collective or global problems – they are more linked than you think. By the same dystopia. If we do not learn to address these problems collectively, then, as the stand-up comedian and social critic George Carlin said, “The planet’ll shake us off like a bad case of fleas.”
The way forward lies in viewing the world as a common cultural experience. In learning to live together with a shared understanding of the world – to appreciate our relationship with it, with nature. To understand it through science, through art, music and writing, the things that make all of us more similar to each other. And perhaps glean from it a nugget, grab from it a notion that we can use to share this random rock in space.
Pathogens, pollution, plastics. Carcinogens in the air, germs in the water, heavy metals in food, endocrine (hormone) disruptors in the environment. Degraded forests, bleached coral reefs, disappearing wildlife, declining biodiversity. Despite the advances of the last 200 years, Earth seems like a bloody unpleasant place to be in the Anthropocene. Not perhaps as bad as some of the dark, brooding dystopian cities seen in Hollywood science fiction movies, not even perhaps as dingy Victorian England (for all barring the aristocrats), but surely getting there. Note that at the heart of all of this imagined dsytopia in fiction is social upheaval (or an alternate social order) but equally, an environmental catastrophe extrapolated.
As Bill Watterson’s creation Calvin states while looking at a tree stump, “Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us.”
We have been aware of environmental issues for a while, notably since the 1960s when Rachel Carson’s book Silent Spring brought attention to it. And it was already part of popular culture, as the satirist-musician-mathematician Tom Lehrer, in his song Pollution, told citizens visiting American cities, “Just two things you must beware, don’t drink the water and don’t breathe air.” This period then spawned wildlife conservation worldwide, notably multinational corporations such as WWF and The Nature Conservancy (and later Conservation International) that have exported their particular brand of conservation worldwide.
Thankfully, there is greater attention to environmental matters and conservation, including in India, than there was even a couple of decades ago. Or, to rephrase it, there is a particular kind of awareness among city-dwelling communities that are the cause of many of the problems in the first place. Environmentalism and conservation have come to represent a narrow set of norms defined by a particular urban elite community that, somewhat ironically in today’s divided world, is similar across cultures, nationalities and ethnicities.
This view of conservation has led to a number of misconceptions, created both by the community and perceptions of it from outside. Here, I set out to debunk some of these myths and then, hopefully, to offer some solutions.
Myth 1: Environment and development are inherently contradictory; ergo, environmentalists want us to return to a Gandhian way of life. If development is indeed for the poor, as governments and corporations argue, then why has inequity grown in so many poor countries? Why, despite increases in gross domestic product, have so many fundamental problems of poverty not been resolved? Environmentalists do not oppose development, just a form of development that benefits certain sections of society and does environmental harm when it need not.
Myth 2: Population growth is the problem. Ever since Paul Ehrich wrote The Population Bomb, this has been a convenient hook to hang environmental problems on. However, Ehrich has been shown to be wrong in nearly every prediction he has made in the last 50 years. Whether at the scale of the globe, of countries, cities or communities, it has been shown that consumption is confined to a few. There is no doubt that population growth in India and China (and elsewhere) should be curbed, and there is a mass of evidence that this can be done, democratically in India (less so in China) through education and empowerment of women (population growth rates have fallen dramatically in most southern states and several others). But this slightly red (perhaps pink) herring distracts from the real problem, namely consumption arising from commodification arising from capitalism (at least a particular form of it).
Myth 3: Nature and humans are separate. While this has been at the core of many conservation ideologies over the decades, a more inclusive notion of conservation involving local communities has become more fashionable in recent years. However, exclusionary notions have reared their ugly head through movements such as Half-Earth, which claim that half of the planet needs to be set aside for nature. Needless to say, the half who have to give stuff up are all conveniently located in the developing tropics, and even there will largely affect the most marginalised, disenfranchised communities. No one is talking about reforesting New York or rewilding Mumbai. Surely, their patron saint must be Thanos (of Avengers fame) who wiped out half of the universe to save it (for entirely environmental reasons). Thanos, at least, did not discriminate and vapourised half quite randomly (using an advanced algorithm, no doubt).
Myth 4: Complete protection of wildlife is a noble goal, ergo any consumptive use is bad. In the world of conservation and resource management, the notion of animal rights has prevented many forms of legitimate resource use. Wildlife can be saved because of their aesthetic appeal for some sections of society, but to demand that everyone do so for the same reason is fascist. Save it to see it and save it to eat it are equally valid cultural reasons.
Unfortunately, it is not only lay persons that confuse animal rights with conservation. Many scholars point out that the two are not compatible and contradict each other. The focus on the individual (in animal rights) versus the collective (at species, landscape or ecosystem levels) in conservation will inevitably result in contradictory actions and outcomes. To be clear, conservationists are not without compassion; in fact, animal welfare (reducing cruelty) and conservation are not incompatible, though they have different goals.
Myth 5: Vegetarianism is environmentally friendly. This is based on the utterly simplistic (political, economic, agronomic, and cultural) premise that there is a loss of energy in the trophic chain, and that it costs more energetically to make a kilo of meat than a kilo of grass. Yes, it does cost more energetically, and of course, no one needs to consume meat the way the West does.
However, our “vegetarian” ways could not possibly be worse for the environment or for our health, especially in India. We need not even consider the historical fact that it was the growth of agrarian societies that led to the expansion of human settlement, war, colonialism and eventually industrial growth that resulted in today’s predicament. Never mind that. Today, we consume enormous quantities of carbohydrate through rice and wheat, and other fertiliser- and pesticide-heavy crops. Both crops are a major cause of the water problems that beset our country, and rice has been to shown to have a much greater climate impact than thought before.
We have done everything from building unsustainable dams to ridiculous river linking projects to feed this thirsty crop. Recent studies show that water consumption can be reduced by a third and nutrition increased by changing cropping patterns in India. In fact, the latest research suggests that water consumption can be reduced by upto 35% by healthy diets containing meat; and by up to 50% by healthy pescetarian diets. And let us not even get started on sugar, the most widely available addictive substance on the planet that has substantial environmental and human health consequences.
Additionally, vegetarianism in India comes with its problematic moral and communal baggage. For many communities that live off the land by gathering, hunting and fishing, vegetarianism and gentrification creates nutritional problems, and loss of traditional ways of life, culture, knowledge and identity.
Finally, there are energy trade-offs in everything we do. Take flights, drive cars, buy furniture, order takeaway. It all adds up. Campaigning with religious fervour against some forms of food (or plastic or energy) consumption that do not add up to a worse carbon footprint than most other urban habits is just that, a new religion.
So, what do we need to do? There are some fundamental principles we need to follow to make environmentalism a universal rather than an elite doctrine, and to pave the way for a happier planet.
Step 1: Connect with nature. But not just in a rich people way. We need to be more inclusive in how we think about the environment. From our views on politics to religion to our relationship with nature, we need to build greater diversity and tolerance. Some people will be vegetarian, some will eat meat (while promoting humane practices), others will hunt and fish. Helping communities preserve these connections (rather than moving them away) is critical to strengthening support and building a wider constituency for environmental conservation. In addition, creating empathy for and engagement with the environment for the new, largely urban generation who have long been divorced from nature is essential.
Step 2: Connect with carbon. Some of us will live in cities, others in a variety of other places, and our impacts will differ. Why is it reasonable to retire to a Swiss chalet to be part of nature (after a lifetime of carbon consumption) but unacceptable to live in a forest or by the sea where your family has for centuries? Plastics have received a really bad rap, especially marine plastics in the last few months (thanks, Blue Planet 2), but often the alternative is worse. We need to first be aware of the carbon and biodiversity (and water) costs of all our actions and work towards reducing these in totality, at individual, community and societal scales.
Step 3: Connect the dots. We need to stop working in silos. Perhaps our most expensive mistake has been to separate social, environmental and ecological issues. Conservationists believe we need to focus on a few important species and habitats. After all, they argue, the world’s problems will always exist, but forests and biodiversity will disappear forever. This is partially true, but we cannot solve the problems of our time in isolation. Economically poor communities need healthcare, clean water, education for their children. Whether these have direct benefits for environmental conservation or not, they create barriers and impede our ability to create positive change for the environment. Environmental conservation has to be rooted in environmental justice, that embeds itself squarely in social justice.
For all those reading this, the message is not (a) we need not care about the environment, (b) it has gone to pot, there is nothing we can do, (c) it is confusing and so I am going to do nothing about it. The planet may or may not be sick, but we are. Cancer or clinical depression, communalism, climate change. Individual, collective or global problems – they are more linked than you think. By the same dystopia. If we do not learn to address these problems collectively, then, as the stand-up comedian and social critic George Carlin said, “The planet’ll shake us off like a bad case of fleas.”
The way forward lies in viewing the world as a common cultural experience. In learning to live together with a shared understanding of the world – to appreciate our relationship with it, with nature. To understand it through science, through art, music and writing, the things that make all of us more similar to each other. And perhaps glean from it a nugget, grab from it a notion that we can use to share this random rock in space.
For conservation to work, we need to rescue crocodiles from animal rights
Kartik Shanker and M. Muralidharan
Originally published in The Wire, November 2018. Click here.
Imagine reading the following report:
To sensitise people to nature, urban conservationists have devised a programme called ‘Cuddle a crocodile’. This programme takes youngsters from their urban homes to remote areas so youth can commune with these reptiles. They wade and swim in the creeks until they encounter crocs and when they do, they try to get to know them. After all, each one has a different personality. Perhaps one will turn out to be friendly. So far, several people have gone missing and a few limbs have been lost, although no animals were harmed in this production.
This scheme doesn’t exist. But to hear many animal rights activists speak about the crocodile conflict in the Andamans, it might seem that we are only a step or two away from it.
Crocodile conflict has emerged as a major issue in the Andaman Islands, with several locals and a few tourists attacked and killed in the last few years. There have been debates and meetings about possible solutions. Some want the animals delisted from Schedule 1 of the Wildlife (Protection) Act so they can be killed. Others want to build enormous ‘rehabilitation’ facilities to house ‘rescued’ crocodiles. Even others want the crocodiles to be left alone so they can die of old age, while humans are moved, fenced out, etc.
Are these views rooted in conservation approaches or in animal rights paradigms? And are the two compatible?
Rights and wrongs
Animal rights is the idea that non-human animals are entitled to the possession of their lives, i.e. each individual matters. However, conservation is defined as an ‘ethic of resource use, allocation and protection’ with a focus on the natural world, fisheries and biodiversity. The sustenance of biological diversity and nature as a whole is implied, as well as different approaches. Many scholars have pointed out that the two paradigms are different in their philosophy, actions and consequences.
The animal rights movement has resulted in many anomalies in our conservation and management policies. Spotted deer, among the most abundant deer in the country, are an invasive species on the Andaman Islands. However, they feature on Schedule 3 of the Act and can’t be culled, despite the damage they have caused to native flora and fauna. This is absurd.
There are, however, a few states that have declared nilgai, wild boar or macaques as vermin or agricultural pests so they may be culled as required. Animal rights groups have protested this, perhaps unaware of the damage and distress they cause to the people living alongside these animals. The stress caused by sharing space with species like elephants has been shown to have a range of impacts on people. In addition to deaths, its effects are chronic and debilitating. This can’t be understood unless one experiences it over the long-term.
It appears, from their arguments, that animal rights groups consider the occasional death of a nameless, faceless individual in some far flung place in the Andamans banal. Is it that uncivil human trespassers are better off dead. In such contexts, the frequently demanded alternative to conflict is to move people out, order them to reduce interactions with crocodiles or even live with conflict because, after all, just a few people are killed each year. However, there are a range of human rights issues and a host of psychological, economic, historical and socio-cultural concerns associated with such arguments.
First, Paul Slovic has shown, perceptions of risk are integral to the decisions that people make. Dread and the feeling of a lack of control in extreme events can often induce societies to eliminate more animals than they would under more inclusive management arrangements. Second, apart from other adverse impacts, relocation further alienates people from nature in the long run, and narrows our cultural connections with wildlife. Third, given local communities in the Andamans were induced to settle in the islands by the Centre, we are again imposing costs on the marginalised and vulnerable who have fewer livelihood options than people on the mainland.
This is distributive justice. Why is it that our many urban habits that have far greater impact on the planet are acceptable whereas people living off the land with lower lifestyle footprints bear disproportionate costs?
Rescuing crocodiles from rights
Those trying to find ‘compassionate’ ways of resolving the problem have suggested that rescue and rehabilitation centres be established for crocodiles. It’s not entirely clear what ‘rehabilitating’ a crocodile would entail, unless it is for the exercise outlined earlier. Rescue centres for salties would be expensive and expansive. Even with tiny enclosures, such a centre would need to house hundreds of crocodiles in a short period and feed them for their entire lives. Salties, unlike mugger crocodiles, are not easy to house together. Either individually or in groups, these crocodiles will have little space. It could work as a short-term measure but what happens when the hotel is booked out? Or when you don’t like your fellow lodger?
It is also more cruel to confine one of the world’s largest reptiles and terrestrial predators in a small cell, with no hope of amnesty. It has been shown that salties are highly stressed in crowded conditions.
The crocodile specialist group carries out regular status assessments and provides guidance for conservation and management. Among other measures, they support the sustainable use of crocodiles. If a form of use, consumptive or non-consumptive, supports the conservation of a species, then the goal is served. Arguments against such use are rooted in animal rights, not in conservation.
Indigenous communities in the Nicobar Islands have a long tradition of hunting crocodiles – and as aboriginal tribes, they are allowed to. The Nicobars host a healthy population of crocodiles, despite the fact that they are consumed occasionally. The communities also remove large problem animals that are too big to ignore. It would be sanctimonious to deny them the right to pursue their entwined subsistence-and-cultural traditions. There are lessons for the Andamans here. Notably, they don’t involve large-scale culling.
One option, given the success of sustainable use and ranching programmes around world, would be to create schemes involving settler communities. A locally managed use-programme could help control populations and add small-scale incomes and cultural elements in the mix to bolster tourism. More importantly, this would make the crocodiles more valuable for the communities. It seems petty to deny them the opportunity to benefit economically from one of the few resources that are available to them.
There is a growing call for sustainable use, especially for subsistence, as the voices of the once marginalised grow to counter the urban clamour for protection. Alaska has long allowed and supported the rights of the native Inuit to hunt caribou. In a recent meeting of Pacific Islanders, local communities suggested that the subsistence hunting of green turtles to preserve their culture and to control populations resume. Only when wildlife is treated as a resource with benefits for all stakeholders, and not just as the government’s property, will we be able to get wider support for conservation.
We can’t base decisions on the ideology of a vocal minority that espouses a narrow, urban-centric view of conservation. Its proponents are usually wildlife enthusiasts and animal lovers working around protected areas and seldom paying the price of a dangerous predator living in their backyard. We must reiterate the need to find ways to work together across cultural and economic barriers to make conservation work for everyone.
Imagine reading the following report:
To sensitise people to nature, urban conservationists have devised a programme called ‘Cuddle a crocodile’. This programme takes youngsters from their urban homes to remote areas so youth can commune with these reptiles. They wade and swim in the creeks until they encounter crocs and when they do, they try to get to know them. After all, each one has a different personality. Perhaps one will turn out to be friendly. So far, several people have gone missing and a few limbs have been lost, although no animals were harmed in this production.
This scheme doesn’t exist. But to hear many animal rights activists speak about the crocodile conflict in the Andamans, it might seem that we are only a step or two away from it.
Crocodile conflict has emerged as a major issue in the Andaman Islands, with several locals and a few tourists attacked and killed in the last few years. There have been debates and meetings about possible solutions. Some want the animals delisted from Schedule 1 of the Wildlife (Protection) Act so they can be killed. Others want to build enormous ‘rehabilitation’ facilities to house ‘rescued’ crocodiles. Even others want the crocodiles to be left alone so they can die of old age, while humans are moved, fenced out, etc.
Are these views rooted in conservation approaches or in animal rights paradigms? And are the two compatible?
Rights and wrongs
Animal rights is the idea that non-human animals are entitled to the possession of their lives, i.e. each individual matters. However, conservation is defined as an ‘ethic of resource use, allocation and protection’ with a focus on the natural world, fisheries and biodiversity. The sustenance of biological diversity and nature as a whole is implied, as well as different approaches. Many scholars have pointed out that the two paradigms are different in their philosophy, actions and consequences.
The animal rights movement has resulted in many anomalies in our conservation and management policies. Spotted deer, among the most abundant deer in the country, are an invasive species on the Andaman Islands. However, they feature on Schedule 3 of the Act and can’t be culled, despite the damage they have caused to native flora and fauna. This is absurd.
There are, however, a few states that have declared nilgai, wild boar or macaques as vermin or agricultural pests so they may be culled as required. Animal rights groups have protested this, perhaps unaware of the damage and distress they cause to the people living alongside these animals. The stress caused by sharing space with species like elephants has been shown to have a range of impacts on people. In addition to deaths, its effects are chronic and debilitating. This can’t be understood unless one experiences it over the long-term.
It appears, from their arguments, that animal rights groups consider the occasional death of a nameless, faceless individual in some far flung place in the Andamans banal. Is it that uncivil human trespassers are better off dead. In such contexts, the frequently demanded alternative to conflict is to move people out, order them to reduce interactions with crocodiles or even live with conflict because, after all, just a few people are killed each year. However, there are a range of human rights issues and a host of psychological, economic, historical and socio-cultural concerns associated with such arguments.
First, Paul Slovic has shown, perceptions of risk are integral to the decisions that people make. Dread and the feeling of a lack of control in extreme events can often induce societies to eliminate more animals than they would under more inclusive management arrangements. Second, apart from other adverse impacts, relocation further alienates people from nature in the long run, and narrows our cultural connections with wildlife. Third, given local communities in the Andamans were induced to settle in the islands by the Centre, we are again imposing costs on the marginalised and vulnerable who have fewer livelihood options than people on the mainland.
This is distributive justice. Why is it that our many urban habits that have far greater impact on the planet are acceptable whereas people living off the land with lower lifestyle footprints bear disproportionate costs?
Rescuing crocodiles from rights
Those trying to find ‘compassionate’ ways of resolving the problem have suggested that rescue and rehabilitation centres be established for crocodiles. It’s not entirely clear what ‘rehabilitating’ a crocodile would entail, unless it is for the exercise outlined earlier. Rescue centres for salties would be expensive and expansive. Even with tiny enclosures, such a centre would need to house hundreds of crocodiles in a short period and feed them for their entire lives. Salties, unlike mugger crocodiles, are not easy to house together. Either individually or in groups, these crocodiles will have little space. It could work as a short-term measure but what happens when the hotel is booked out? Or when you don’t like your fellow lodger?
It is also more cruel to confine one of the world’s largest reptiles and terrestrial predators in a small cell, with no hope of amnesty. It has been shown that salties are highly stressed in crowded conditions.
The crocodile specialist group carries out regular status assessments and provides guidance for conservation and management. Among other measures, they support the sustainable use of crocodiles. If a form of use, consumptive or non-consumptive, supports the conservation of a species, then the goal is served. Arguments against such use are rooted in animal rights, not in conservation.
Indigenous communities in the Nicobar Islands have a long tradition of hunting crocodiles – and as aboriginal tribes, they are allowed to. The Nicobars host a healthy population of crocodiles, despite the fact that they are consumed occasionally. The communities also remove large problem animals that are too big to ignore. It would be sanctimonious to deny them the right to pursue their entwined subsistence-and-cultural traditions. There are lessons for the Andamans here. Notably, they don’t involve large-scale culling.
One option, given the success of sustainable use and ranching programmes around world, would be to create schemes involving settler communities. A locally managed use-programme could help control populations and add small-scale incomes and cultural elements in the mix to bolster tourism. More importantly, this would make the crocodiles more valuable for the communities. It seems petty to deny them the opportunity to benefit economically from one of the few resources that are available to them.
There is a growing call for sustainable use, especially for subsistence, as the voices of the once marginalised grow to counter the urban clamour for protection. Alaska has long allowed and supported the rights of the native Inuit to hunt caribou. In a recent meeting of Pacific Islanders, local communities suggested that the subsistence hunting of green turtles to preserve their culture and to control populations resume. Only when wildlife is treated as a resource with benefits for all stakeholders, and not just as the government’s property, will we be able to get wider support for conservation.
We can’t base decisions on the ideology of a vocal minority that espouses a narrow, urban-centric view of conservation. Its proponents are usually wildlife enthusiasts and animal lovers working around protected areas and seldom paying the price of a dangerous predator living in their backyard. We must reiterate the need to find ways to work together across cultural and economic barriers to make conservation work for everyone.
Crocodiles need management, not PR
M. Muralidharan and Kartik Shanker
Originally published in The Wire, November 2018. Click here.
No one disagrees with the fact that animals potentially dangerous to humans – except maybe tigers – get bad press in the popular media. The moment any talk of ‘wildlife management’ is brought up, there is usually violent opposition from a small group of people, including some wildlife biologists. Arguments from ‘the animals were there before us’ to ‘it’s the humans that need management’ are offered, but don’t lead to tangible solutions.
Human-wildlife conflict with a wide range of animals – including herbivores such as elephants, wild boar, nilgai, macaques, as well as carnivores such as leopards – is a widespread phenomenon. Increasing reports of attacks on humans by crocodiles in the Andaman Islands, particularly on local communities, has been in the news of late, creating substantial unrest. Unfortunately, urban elite conservationists may not realise the immediacy of the threat, arguing against measures like delisting and culling, which they believe are detrimental to crocodiles.
Anecdotal reports and surveys results indicate that conflict between saltwater crocodiles, or salties, and humans has increased in the last decade. In this time, it is only when tourists are attacked has the issue received attention on the mainland. Several local community members have been attacked and killed over these years. Barring expressions of horror, little was done.
General opinion ordained that crocodiles could not be removed, so a few warning signs were erected and local communities warned not to go into the creeks, where they fish, bathe and wash their clothes. The local forest department did what it could under the circumstances, relocating a few large crocodiles to farther islands. But displaced saltwater crocodiles often attempt to return to their territories, sometimes swimming a few hundred kilometres, causing problems along the way. No amount of PR can change what crocodiles do to people.
As the Centre expands its plans for tourism in the Andamans, the presence of crocodiles has became a thorn in many crowns. Debates and official meetings drag on about possible solutions. Some want the animals delisted from Schedule 1 of the Wildlife (Protection) Act so they can be officially culled. Others want to build enormous ‘rehabilitation’ facilities to house ‘rescued’ crocodiles. Even others argue that the people should be relocated.
A clearheaded path to resolving the conflict is missing.
Playing the numbers game
The IUCN Red List lists the status of various species. In its framework, species are placed into categories: extinct, extinct in the wild, threatened (including vulnerable, endangered and critically endangered), near threatened and least concern. Some are classified as ‘data deficient’. The criteria include absolute size of the population or distribution range, or trends in depletion or revival of populations. Species are assessed regularly by experts and the level of endangerment may improve or worsen depending on the latest data.
Within Indian law, species are protected by being placed in the Schedules of the Wildlife (Protection) Act, 1972. This list was fairly arbitrary and set in such bureaucratic stone that little can be done to move species to lower schedules or off the list, even if previously threatened populations have recovered.
Based on their wide global distribution and population numbers, saltwater crocodiles are currently classified as lower risk, least concern on the Red List. Species are often classified as more endangered than they actually are, because of genuine concerns about threats and because zealous conservationists tend to be protective of the species they are working on. If salties are classified as of least concern (LC), then no crocodile biologist thinks that there is any immediate threat to them.
This, however, global and need not apply to local populations. In India, salties are limited to Bhitarkanika, Sundarbans and Andaman and Nicobar Islands, together representing a fraction of their original range on the subcontinent. They are protected in sanctuaries on the mainland where their populations seem stable, and recent surveys indicate numbers have increased dramatically in the islands.
While other, rigorous surveys will have to provide confirmation, the salties’ status has to be assessed rationally. If numbers indicate recovery, it will be reasonable to delist or downlist crocodiles, or at least to remove problem individuals while continuing to monitor the rest. Downlisting needs to be viewed as a conservation success for a species, rather than as an affront to the animals and conservationists who work on it.
Management needs to be context-specific and, where possible, make use of the latest data. Those who insist on retaining particular species in higher categories of endangerment despite evidence of changes in population size are acting on ideology, not science. Sometimes, iconic species can have detrimental impact on both ecosystems and people. A significant increase in green turtle numbers at sites around the world has resulted in a massive decline in sea grass, with consequences for fisheries. Should they continue to be protected to the detriment of both people and ecosystems?
Protection status is relative. Undue focus on some species that are probably not endangered takes away from innumerable fish, frogs and other lesser known creatures that truly are.
Spurious arguments
In most cases, resistance to managing wildlife comes from entities far away from the sites where human communities share space with potentially dangerous animals. Even with few human lives lost, these encounters tend to have a psychological impact on these marginalised communities. In most cases, while being well-intentioned, these narratives are very insensitive to locals who have to deal with the issue.
The suggestion of culling seems to raise the most hairs. Maybe its opponents imagine rivers running red with blood and carcasses of animals being ruthlessly slaughtered. Several countries use culling to mitigate a variety of human-wildlife interactions, carried out by authorised agents and not in a hunt. Removing individuals is trickier when dealing with territorial animals, where other individuals move into newly vacant territories. However, crocodiles above a certain size tend to create the most problems and a sustained monitoring mechanism with selective removal can greatly reduce conflict.
Blanket protection for large predators is also a catalyst for further conflict, as local communities sometimes launch retaliatory attacks against such species and others of conservation significance.
Indeed, at what point do we draw the line between which animals need to be removed vs. what can be avoided? One can build awareness about avoiding stonefish and jellyfish in the same way that we avoid scorpions and spiders on land. Avoiding crocodiles during one’s daily routine could be more traumatic.
Other solutions have been advocated to deal with the conflict. The traditional approach by the state has been to relocate them. However, aa substantial body of evidence from research on Indian leopards and Australian salties suggests these strategies have terrible outcomes. Both cases have shown that relocated animals have navigational capabilities and often return to their homes.
This is not surprising. Territorial animals have been moved far from their territories and have to battle other animals for prime habitat. So they are forced to use marginal habitats, usually human-dominated landscapes. Some animals don’t find their way back and become resident in other human-dominated areas, resulting in more conflict with humans. In Australia, salties have been known to journey up to 400 km, suggesting this strategy can’t work there, leave alone in the tiny Andamans.
Alternatives like capturing and maintaining ‘problem’ animals within enclosures have their own issues, from developing infrastructure to feeding and maintaining the animals throughout their lives. Crocodiles are abundant and this burden will only become heavier, as is evident in captive facilities around India.
An inclusive solution
Australia leads the way in salties conservation by ensuring the least possible contact between large adult crocodiles and people. In areas designated for crocodiles, people’s movement is regulated (we do this well in India). In areas where the human population density is higher, crocodiles are culled. They already remove animals posing a particular threat to humans but there are also calls for a wider cull as populations have exploded in the Northern Territory and Queensland. As in India, protests against these actions have been mostly from animal rights activists.
There is no denying the need for conservation in the modern world. Wild populations have to be monitored and multiple options need to be considered for long-term conservation success. In some instances, absolute protection is warranted. In others, some form of use with benefits for local (often marginal) communities is better, as it wins their support for and investment in conservation. It is also critical to include the views of local communities.
Focusing on a single species or individual animals can lead to our missing the wood for the trees. There are many species that receive no consideration. While we can’t obviously monitor them in the millions, we can achieve the overall goals of conservation by focusing on ecosystem function, integrity and resilience.
It indeed would be unbecoming of civil society to address social and environmental challenges with narrow views and ideology. What conservation needs is a combination of credible arguments and cultural inclusion that considers social-ecological systems as a whole, and creates benefits for people, species and ecosystems.
No one disagrees with the fact that animals potentially dangerous to humans – except maybe tigers – get bad press in the popular media. The moment any talk of ‘wildlife management’ is brought up, there is usually violent opposition from a small group of people, including some wildlife biologists. Arguments from ‘the animals were there before us’ to ‘it’s the humans that need management’ are offered, but don’t lead to tangible solutions.
Human-wildlife conflict with a wide range of animals – including herbivores such as elephants, wild boar, nilgai, macaques, as well as carnivores such as leopards – is a widespread phenomenon. Increasing reports of attacks on humans by crocodiles in the Andaman Islands, particularly on local communities, has been in the news of late, creating substantial unrest. Unfortunately, urban elite conservationists may not realise the immediacy of the threat, arguing against measures like delisting and culling, which they believe are detrimental to crocodiles.
Anecdotal reports and surveys results indicate that conflict between saltwater crocodiles, or salties, and humans has increased in the last decade. In this time, it is only when tourists are attacked has the issue received attention on the mainland. Several local community members have been attacked and killed over these years. Barring expressions of horror, little was done.
General opinion ordained that crocodiles could not be removed, so a few warning signs were erected and local communities warned not to go into the creeks, where they fish, bathe and wash their clothes. The local forest department did what it could under the circumstances, relocating a few large crocodiles to farther islands. But displaced saltwater crocodiles often attempt to return to their territories, sometimes swimming a few hundred kilometres, causing problems along the way. No amount of PR can change what crocodiles do to people.
As the Centre expands its plans for tourism in the Andamans, the presence of crocodiles has became a thorn in many crowns. Debates and official meetings drag on about possible solutions. Some want the animals delisted from Schedule 1 of the Wildlife (Protection) Act so they can be officially culled. Others want to build enormous ‘rehabilitation’ facilities to house ‘rescued’ crocodiles. Even others argue that the people should be relocated.
A clearheaded path to resolving the conflict is missing.
Playing the numbers game
The IUCN Red List lists the status of various species. In its framework, species are placed into categories: extinct, extinct in the wild, threatened (including vulnerable, endangered and critically endangered), near threatened and least concern. Some are classified as ‘data deficient’. The criteria include absolute size of the population or distribution range, or trends in depletion or revival of populations. Species are assessed regularly by experts and the level of endangerment may improve or worsen depending on the latest data.
Within Indian law, species are protected by being placed in the Schedules of the Wildlife (Protection) Act, 1972. This list was fairly arbitrary and set in such bureaucratic stone that little can be done to move species to lower schedules or off the list, even if previously threatened populations have recovered.
Based on their wide global distribution and population numbers, saltwater crocodiles are currently classified as lower risk, least concern on the Red List. Species are often classified as more endangered than they actually are, because of genuine concerns about threats and because zealous conservationists tend to be protective of the species they are working on. If salties are classified as of least concern (LC), then no crocodile biologist thinks that there is any immediate threat to them.
This, however, global and need not apply to local populations. In India, salties are limited to Bhitarkanika, Sundarbans and Andaman and Nicobar Islands, together representing a fraction of their original range on the subcontinent. They are protected in sanctuaries on the mainland where their populations seem stable, and recent surveys indicate numbers have increased dramatically in the islands.
While other, rigorous surveys will have to provide confirmation, the salties’ status has to be assessed rationally. If numbers indicate recovery, it will be reasonable to delist or downlist crocodiles, or at least to remove problem individuals while continuing to monitor the rest. Downlisting needs to be viewed as a conservation success for a species, rather than as an affront to the animals and conservationists who work on it.
Management needs to be context-specific and, where possible, make use of the latest data. Those who insist on retaining particular species in higher categories of endangerment despite evidence of changes in population size are acting on ideology, not science. Sometimes, iconic species can have detrimental impact on both ecosystems and people. A significant increase in green turtle numbers at sites around the world has resulted in a massive decline in sea grass, with consequences for fisheries. Should they continue to be protected to the detriment of both people and ecosystems?
Protection status is relative. Undue focus on some species that are probably not endangered takes away from innumerable fish, frogs and other lesser known creatures that truly are.
Spurious arguments
In most cases, resistance to managing wildlife comes from entities far away from the sites where human communities share space with potentially dangerous animals. Even with few human lives lost, these encounters tend to have a psychological impact on these marginalised communities. In most cases, while being well-intentioned, these narratives are very insensitive to locals who have to deal with the issue.
The suggestion of culling seems to raise the most hairs. Maybe its opponents imagine rivers running red with blood and carcasses of animals being ruthlessly slaughtered. Several countries use culling to mitigate a variety of human-wildlife interactions, carried out by authorised agents and not in a hunt. Removing individuals is trickier when dealing with territorial animals, where other individuals move into newly vacant territories. However, crocodiles above a certain size tend to create the most problems and a sustained monitoring mechanism with selective removal can greatly reduce conflict.
Blanket protection for large predators is also a catalyst for further conflict, as local communities sometimes launch retaliatory attacks against such species and others of conservation significance.
Indeed, at what point do we draw the line between which animals need to be removed vs. what can be avoided? One can build awareness about avoiding stonefish and jellyfish in the same way that we avoid scorpions and spiders on land. Avoiding crocodiles during one’s daily routine could be more traumatic.
Other solutions have been advocated to deal with the conflict. The traditional approach by the state has been to relocate them. However, aa substantial body of evidence from research on Indian leopards and Australian salties suggests these strategies have terrible outcomes. Both cases have shown that relocated animals have navigational capabilities and often return to their homes.
This is not surprising. Territorial animals have been moved far from their territories and have to battle other animals for prime habitat. So they are forced to use marginal habitats, usually human-dominated landscapes. Some animals don’t find their way back and become resident in other human-dominated areas, resulting in more conflict with humans. In Australia, salties have been known to journey up to 400 km, suggesting this strategy can’t work there, leave alone in the tiny Andamans.
Alternatives like capturing and maintaining ‘problem’ animals within enclosures have their own issues, from developing infrastructure to feeding and maintaining the animals throughout their lives. Crocodiles are abundant and this burden will only become heavier, as is evident in captive facilities around India.
An inclusive solution
Australia leads the way in salties conservation by ensuring the least possible contact between large adult crocodiles and people. In areas designated for crocodiles, people’s movement is regulated (we do this well in India). In areas where the human population density is higher, crocodiles are culled. They already remove animals posing a particular threat to humans but there are also calls for a wider cull as populations have exploded in the Northern Territory and Queensland. As in India, protests against these actions have been mostly from animal rights activists.
There is no denying the need for conservation in the modern world. Wild populations have to be monitored and multiple options need to be considered for long-term conservation success. In some instances, absolute protection is warranted. In others, some form of use with benefits for local (often marginal) communities is better, as it wins their support for and investment in conservation. It is also critical to include the views of local communities.
Focusing on a single species or individual animals can lead to our missing the wood for the trees. There are many species that receive no consideration. While we can’t obviously monitor them in the millions, we can achieve the overall goals of conservation by focusing on ecosystem function, integrity and resilience.
It indeed would be unbecoming of civil society to address social and environmental challenges with narrow views and ideology. What conservation needs is a combination of credible arguments and cultural inclusion that considers social-ecological systems as a whole, and creates benefits for people, species and ecosystems.
Hunting for solutions
Meera Anna Oommen and Kartik Shanker
Originally published in The Hindu, November 2017.
In July 2015, when Cecil, a 13-year-old black-maned male lion, strolled out of Hwange National Park in Zimbabwe (some say he was baited and lured out), and fell prey to an American trophy hunter, a furore ensued. The unfortunate lion happened to be a study animal collared and tracked by Oxford University, and beloved of tourists on account of his readiness to provide easy photo-ops. Cecil’s death soon catalysed an international slanging match where animal rights activists and celebrities traded insults with hunters and their supporters. While the conservation community was divided in its support, local African voices were hardly heard.
Accidental mascot
Following this incident, trophy hunting has received much press and action. Thanks to this accidental mascot, financial support for Oxford’s Wildlife Conservation Research Unit (WildCRU) poured in. Among the key actions, subspecies of lions at risk from different population pressures were placed on the U.S. Endangered Species Act, making it difficult for American citizens to trophy hunt. However, the lifting of import bans for elephants, as recently proposed by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and the Trump administration, is expected to ease the entry of trophy imports from countries such as Zimbabwe and Zambia.
Critics fear that lions may once again be a target. Given that populations of both elephants and lions and many other species remain of conservation concern, it is widely believed that actions to ‘protect’ such species must continue. But several questions remain unanswered: Is trophy hunting good for conservation or does it contribute to population declines? Is hunting ethical, and by whose standards? Should hunting be banned, and who decides?
The equation is not simple; generic hunting bans do not automatically lead to increases in wildlife. For example, in countries such as Kenya and India, where hunting bans came into force in the 1970s, wildlife populations do not seem to fare better than in countries where hunting is ongoing. On the contrary, in both South Africa and Namibia where wildlife has been commoditised (trophy hunting, wildlife tourism, commercial meat production as well as local consumption) and managed for the benefit of local communities, populations seem to be doing better.
Trophy hunting has also been favourably implicated in the recovery of individual species such as the black rhino and the straight-horned markhor, a species of wild goat found in Pakistan. In the specific case of lions, WildCRU’s own report identifies habitat loss and degradation, as well as the loss of prey-base and conflict with local communities over livestock losses as primary threats. Trophy hunting, it concludes, could be problematic only for some populations but reiterates that there is limited evidence to show that it has substantial negative implications at national or regional levels. In fact, the report states that “the most fundamental benefit of trophy hunting to lion conservation is that it provides a financial incentive to maintain lion habitat that might otherwise be converted to non-wildlife land uses.”
Impact on conservation
Given these data, it would seem that much of the opposition to trophy hunting derives from an animal rights perspective rather than an objective evaluation of conservation impact. Hunting is carried out in about 1.4 million sq km in Africa, more than 22% of area covered by national parks in Africa. To increase the scope of ecotourism (the most frequently proposed revenue generation alternative) to this level seems unviable given that many of these landscapes are not conducive to tourism. Moreover, some experts claim that compared to ecotourism, high-value trophy hunting has a lower ecological footprint. The caution, however, is that like other market-based mechanisms such as payments for ecosystem services or ecotourism, trophy hunting is also riddled by problems such as lack of local regulation, rent-seeking and corruption, which can derail such projects. Trophy hunting therefore has mixed results, with a variety of factors determining its success or failure.
At the same time, this pragmatic approach to conservation clashes frequently with the animal rights philosophies embedded within the wildlife conservation debate. To further complicate matters, critics conflate subsistence with sport hunting; these are embedded in different cultural contexts, and need to be evaluated through separate socio-political and economic frames. One must not forget that the vociferous support of urban Western animal enthusiasts and conservationists has real consequences far away (from their homes) in rural Africa where animals and people live in close proximity with each other.
An undue focus on issues such as trophy hunting can take away from real problems such as conflict as well as widespread habitat loss and degradation. The latter are enabled by the massive land grabs perpetrated by multinational companies on the continent. The ongoing trophy hunting and animal rights debates as well as the conservation politics surrounding large charismatic species have been elements of a long-term, white-dominated game that is also indicative of a distinct colonial hangover reminiscent of the ‘Scramble for Africa’, that once again ignores African voices and ground realities.
In July 2015, when Cecil, a 13-year-old black-maned male lion, strolled out of Hwange National Park in Zimbabwe (some say he was baited and lured out), and fell prey to an American trophy hunter, a furore ensued. The unfortunate lion happened to be a study animal collared and tracked by Oxford University, and beloved of tourists on account of his readiness to provide easy photo-ops. Cecil’s death soon catalysed an international slanging match where animal rights activists and celebrities traded insults with hunters and their supporters. While the conservation community was divided in its support, local African voices were hardly heard.
Accidental mascot
Following this incident, trophy hunting has received much press and action. Thanks to this accidental mascot, financial support for Oxford’s Wildlife Conservation Research Unit (WildCRU) poured in. Among the key actions, subspecies of lions at risk from different population pressures were placed on the U.S. Endangered Species Act, making it difficult for American citizens to trophy hunt. However, the lifting of import bans for elephants, as recently proposed by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and the Trump administration, is expected to ease the entry of trophy imports from countries such as Zimbabwe and Zambia.
Critics fear that lions may once again be a target. Given that populations of both elephants and lions and many other species remain of conservation concern, it is widely believed that actions to ‘protect’ such species must continue. But several questions remain unanswered: Is trophy hunting good for conservation or does it contribute to population declines? Is hunting ethical, and by whose standards? Should hunting be banned, and who decides?
The equation is not simple; generic hunting bans do not automatically lead to increases in wildlife. For example, in countries such as Kenya and India, where hunting bans came into force in the 1970s, wildlife populations do not seem to fare better than in countries where hunting is ongoing. On the contrary, in both South Africa and Namibia where wildlife has been commoditised (trophy hunting, wildlife tourism, commercial meat production as well as local consumption) and managed for the benefit of local communities, populations seem to be doing better.
Trophy hunting has also been favourably implicated in the recovery of individual species such as the black rhino and the straight-horned markhor, a species of wild goat found in Pakistan. In the specific case of lions, WildCRU’s own report identifies habitat loss and degradation, as well as the loss of prey-base and conflict with local communities over livestock losses as primary threats. Trophy hunting, it concludes, could be problematic only for some populations but reiterates that there is limited evidence to show that it has substantial negative implications at national or regional levels. In fact, the report states that “the most fundamental benefit of trophy hunting to lion conservation is that it provides a financial incentive to maintain lion habitat that might otherwise be converted to non-wildlife land uses.”
Impact on conservation
Given these data, it would seem that much of the opposition to trophy hunting derives from an animal rights perspective rather than an objective evaluation of conservation impact. Hunting is carried out in about 1.4 million sq km in Africa, more than 22% of area covered by national parks in Africa. To increase the scope of ecotourism (the most frequently proposed revenue generation alternative) to this level seems unviable given that many of these landscapes are not conducive to tourism. Moreover, some experts claim that compared to ecotourism, high-value trophy hunting has a lower ecological footprint. The caution, however, is that like other market-based mechanisms such as payments for ecosystem services or ecotourism, trophy hunting is also riddled by problems such as lack of local regulation, rent-seeking and corruption, which can derail such projects. Trophy hunting therefore has mixed results, with a variety of factors determining its success or failure.
At the same time, this pragmatic approach to conservation clashes frequently with the animal rights philosophies embedded within the wildlife conservation debate. To further complicate matters, critics conflate subsistence with sport hunting; these are embedded in different cultural contexts, and need to be evaluated through separate socio-political and economic frames. One must not forget that the vociferous support of urban Western animal enthusiasts and conservationists has real consequences far away (from their homes) in rural Africa where animals and people live in close proximity with each other.
An undue focus on issues such as trophy hunting can take away from real problems such as conflict as well as widespread habitat loss and degradation. The latter are enabled by the massive land grabs perpetrated by multinational companies on the continent. The ongoing trophy hunting and animal rights debates as well as the conservation politics surrounding large charismatic species have been elements of a long-term, white-dominated game that is also indicative of a distinct colonial hangover reminiscent of the ‘Scramble for Africa’, that once again ignores African voices and ground realities.
