A Down to Earth series
Icons of marine conservation
Originally published in Down to Earth, October 15, 2011.
Whales and dolphins rival pandas and tigers as global conservation icons. Sea turtles might have, at one time, not been regarded as cute as charismatic mammals, but more countries have conservation projects on sea turtle than on any other such group. Research on and conservation of marine species is seen as a new frontier, while the interface between marine conservation and fisheries management remains a challenge. In the expansion of the conservation arena from landscapes to seascapes and oceanscapes, the Indian subcontinent has been both a pioneer and a laggard.
Sea turtle conservation in India dates to the programmes initiated in the Olive Ridley mass nesting beaches of Odisha and solitary beaches of Chennai in the early 1970s. In Odisha, conservationists countered threats to turtles with on-ground and media campaigns that elicited global support. Famously, then prime minister Indira Gandhi provided coast guard support in patrolling offshore waters, eventually leading to a decline in turtle fishing. Concomitantly, increasing trawl fishing led to a rise in incidental capture and mortality: more than 100,000 Olive Ridleys perished in the last decade. A number of community-centric conservation campaigns have tried to address these issues. Part of the new wave of conservation approaches, the Orissa Marine Resources Conservation Consortium is trying to bring together fisher communities and conservationists towards a common goal of marine resource conservation. All the while, the threat of development looms large with more ports planned.
The conservation movement in Chennai, that eventually led to the now two-decade-old students’ conservation organisation there, has spawned a number of small sea turtle and marine conservation organisations around the country, at least one in each coastal state. Their impact at the local scale is extraordinary. The groups are also united under a recently formed national network, the Turtle Action Group.
Conservation of other marine species has been much less organised. Some of the groups mentioned above have worked on other species, notably whale sharks in Gujarat. Whale shark conservation received attention for a period, including through documentaries and media campaigns, resulting in their listing in Schedule 1 of the Wild Life Protection Act in 2001 slowing of the decline in their number. Once they were disappearing by several hundreds annually.
When other sharks were similarly listed, there was widespread protest from fishing communities, leading to a delisting of species. The problem in such listings is that many fisheries are non-target ones. This leads to the broader question of fisheries management and regulation, as well as issues of bycatch. They have not received enough attention in India. Whales and dolphins may be icons elsewhere in the world, but have not received a great deal of attention in India. Their status in offshore waters is not well known, nor are the threats to their populations.
In Chilika, fishing communities and the Irrawady dolphin appear to have developed a mutualistic relationship. The communities benefit from dolphins driving fish into their nets, and also in recent years from dolphin-based tourism. Yet there are various threats, including from tourism-based activity. Dugongs have disappeared from most areas along the mainland where they were earlier reported, such as the Gulf of Mannar. They are still sighted in some parts of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, but appear to be considerably depleted in numbers.
Should marine protection follow paradigms of terrestrial conservation? Should effort be devoted to creating people-free, use-free enclaves? Seas and coasts have been used for millenia; the cultures and institutions that govern them have evolved over time. Is it wise or even feasible to apply dogmatic conservation approaches to seascapes? In fact, the most powerful coastal movements in India are community movements for local livelihoods. However, no-fishing zones (especially when set up with support of communities) can be highly beneficial to marine resources and livelihoods. Marine conservation will benefit most by integrating modern research with community involvement.
Whales and dolphins rival pandas and tigers as global conservation icons. Sea turtles might have, at one time, not been regarded as cute as charismatic mammals, but more countries have conservation projects on sea turtle than on any other such group. Research on and conservation of marine species is seen as a new frontier, while the interface between marine conservation and fisheries management remains a challenge. In the expansion of the conservation arena from landscapes to seascapes and oceanscapes, the Indian subcontinent has been both a pioneer and a laggard.
Sea turtle conservation in India dates to the programmes initiated in the Olive Ridley mass nesting beaches of Odisha and solitary beaches of Chennai in the early 1970s. In Odisha, conservationists countered threats to turtles with on-ground and media campaigns that elicited global support. Famously, then prime minister Indira Gandhi provided coast guard support in patrolling offshore waters, eventually leading to a decline in turtle fishing. Concomitantly, increasing trawl fishing led to a rise in incidental capture and mortality: more than 100,000 Olive Ridleys perished in the last decade. A number of community-centric conservation campaigns have tried to address these issues. Part of the new wave of conservation approaches, the Orissa Marine Resources Conservation Consortium is trying to bring together fisher communities and conservationists towards a common goal of marine resource conservation. All the while, the threat of development looms large with more ports planned.
The conservation movement in Chennai, that eventually led to the now two-decade-old students’ conservation organisation there, has spawned a number of small sea turtle and marine conservation organisations around the country, at least one in each coastal state. Their impact at the local scale is extraordinary. The groups are also united under a recently formed national network, the Turtle Action Group.
Conservation of other marine species has been much less organised. Some of the groups mentioned above have worked on other species, notably whale sharks in Gujarat. Whale shark conservation received attention for a period, including through documentaries and media campaigns, resulting in their listing in Schedule 1 of the Wild Life Protection Act in 2001 slowing of the decline in their number. Once they were disappearing by several hundreds annually.
When other sharks were similarly listed, there was widespread protest from fishing communities, leading to a delisting of species. The problem in such listings is that many fisheries are non-target ones. This leads to the broader question of fisheries management and regulation, as well as issues of bycatch. They have not received enough attention in India. Whales and dolphins may be icons elsewhere in the world, but have not received a great deal of attention in India. Their status in offshore waters is not well known, nor are the threats to their populations.
In Chilika, fishing communities and the Irrawady dolphin appear to have developed a mutualistic relationship. The communities benefit from dolphins driving fish into their nets, and also in recent years from dolphin-based tourism. Yet there are various threats, including from tourism-based activity. Dugongs have disappeared from most areas along the mainland where they were earlier reported, such as the Gulf of Mannar. They are still sighted in some parts of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, but appear to be considerably depleted in numbers.
Should marine protection follow paradigms of terrestrial conservation? Should effort be devoted to creating people-free, use-free enclaves? Seas and coasts have been used for millenia; the cultures and institutions that govern them have evolved over time. Is it wise or even feasible to apply dogmatic conservation approaches to seascapes? In fact, the most powerful coastal movements in India are community movements for local livelihoods. However, no-fishing zones (especially when set up with support of communities) can be highly beneficial to marine resources and livelihoods. Marine conservation will benefit most by integrating modern research with community involvement.
They lived with dinosaurs
Originally published in Down to Earth, December 31, 2008. [PDF]
Sea turtles are magical animals, all the more mystifying because of our ignorance about them. For millions of years, they have wandered the oceans. But today, they are threatened by habitat loss, lighting on beaches, which disorients hatchlings and prevents them from finding the ocean, pollution and consumption of adults and eggs. Fishing-related mortality has caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands of turtles worldwide sea turtles are air breathers and when they get accidentally caught in fishing nets, they drown.
In India, government policies such as Special Economic Zones and Coastal Management Zone Notification 2008 have been criticized for potential impacts on coasts. Not only are sea turtles and other marine organisms threatened, but also people dependent on marine resources for livelihoods. The future of sea turtles might seem bleak.But they have inspired some of the most creative and passionate conservation programmes in India.
On a moonlit night in December 1988, crouched on a beach in Chennai, I saw my first olive ridley. We watched the female turtle come ashore, crawl up to a dry part of the beach, dig a 2 feet deep nest with her hind flippers, and lay 100 to 150 eggs. The hatchlings would emerge about two months later, and under the cover of darkness, make a dash for the sea which they would find by the reflection of the moon and starlight on the water. The hatchlings drift with oceanic currents, sometimes traversing the entire oceans. When they become adults, 10 to15 years later (up to 50 years for some species), they use the earth's magnetic field to find the beach where they were born, so that they can start the cycle again. I was then part of a small group of students who had decided to make a contribution to sea turtle conservation. Sea turtle conservation in India had been initiated a decade and a half earlier in Chennai by Rom Whitaker, Satish Bhaskar and a small band of turtle walkers, with a hatchery in a friend's backyard. Nearly 20 years later, as some of those hatchlings we released have hopefully reached adulthood, the group still flourishes, as do many other small ngos throughout India's coasts, including students, communities and animal rights' activists.
In the mid-1990s, a group of fishermen in Kerala read a newspaper article, about a turtle conservation group, probably the Student's Sea Turtle Conservation Network (sstcn) and decided to start a turtle conservation programme near their village. Today, they are a flagship for coastal conservation. Bhau Green Mercy in Andhra, Canara Green Academy in Karnataka and a number of youth ngos in Orissa pursue turtle conservation with the same verve as sstcn. In Chennai, the tree Foundation works with fishing youth for turtle conservation.
In the past two decades, these ngos have released thousands of hatchlings, but their impact has possibly been far greater. Hundreds of students and volunteers have helped run these programmes; thousands have been on turtle walks. Many got involved with conservation, others became teachers and activists. Many more went on with their jobs, forever touched by the sea turtles.
In Orissa, more than 100,000 dead turtles have been washed up in the last decade. Several ports have been planned. The one planned at Dhamra is less than 10 km from Gahirmatha, a major nesting site for the ridleys. A recent movement here is the Orissa Marine Resources Conservation Consortium fishworker support groups and conservationists have found common ground in conserving marine resources and endangered species and enhancing livelihoods of local people.
Sea turtles are among the many species threatened by human activity. A lot of these will not benefit us directly. But we need to find ways to conserve them and their ecoystems for the services they provide, and also for their value as part of our natural heritage.
Sea turtles are magical animals, all the more mystifying because of our ignorance about them. For millions of years, they have wandered the oceans. But today, they are threatened by habitat loss, lighting on beaches, which disorients hatchlings and prevents them from finding the ocean, pollution and consumption of adults and eggs. Fishing-related mortality has caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands of turtles worldwide sea turtles are air breathers and when they get accidentally caught in fishing nets, they drown.
In India, government policies such as Special Economic Zones and Coastal Management Zone Notification 2008 have been criticized for potential impacts on coasts. Not only are sea turtles and other marine organisms threatened, but also people dependent on marine resources for livelihoods. The future of sea turtles might seem bleak.But they have inspired some of the most creative and passionate conservation programmes in India.
On a moonlit night in December 1988, crouched on a beach in Chennai, I saw my first olive ridley. We watched the female turtle come ashore, crawl up to a dry part of the beach, dig a 2 feet deep nest with her hind flippers, and lay 100 to 150 eggs. The hatchlings would emerge about two months later, and under the cover of darkness, make a dash for the sea which they would find by the reflection of the moon and starlight on the water. The hatchlings drift with oceanic currents, sometimes traversing the entire oceans. When they become adults, 10 to15 years later (up to 50 years for some species), they use the earth's magnetic field to find the beach where they were born, so that they can start the cycle again. I was then part of a small group of students who had decided to make a contribution to sea turtle conservation. Sea turtle conservation in India had been initiated a decade and a half earlier in Chennai by Rom Whitaker, Satish Bhaskar and a small band of turtle walkers, with a hatchery in a friend's backyard. Nearly 20 years later, as some of those hatchlings we released have hopefully reached adulthood, the group still flourishes, as do many other small ngos throughout India's coasts, including students, communities and animal rights' activists.
In the mid-1990s, a group of fishermen in Kerala read a newspaper article, about a turtle conservation group, probably the Student's Sea Turtle Conservation Network (sstcn) and decided to start a turtle conservation programme near their village. Today, they are a flagship for coastal conservation. Bhau Green Mercy in Andhra, Canara Green Academy in Karnataka and a number of youth ngos in Orissa pursue turtle conservation with the same verve as sstcn. In Chennai, the tree Foundation works with fishing youth for turtle conservation.
In the past two decades, these ngos have released thousands of hatchlings, but their impact has possibly been far greater. Hundreds of students and volunteers have helped run these programmes; thousands have been on turtle walks. Many got involved with conservation, others became teachers and activists. Many more went on with their jobs, forever touched by the sea turtles.
In Orissa, more than 100,000 dead turtles have been washed up in the last decade. Several ports have been planned. The one planned at Dhamra is less than 10 km from Gahirmatha, a major nesting site for the ridleys. A recent movement here is the Orissa Marine Resources Conservation Consortium fishworker support groups and conservationists have found common ground in conserving marine resources and endangered species and enhancing livelihoods of local people.
Sea turtles are among the many species threatened by human activity. A lot of these will not benefit us directly. But we need to find ways to conserve them and their ecoystems for the services they provide, and also for their value as part of our natural heritage.
Urban areas can support biodiversity
Originally published in Down to Earth, October 31, 2006. [PDF]
I first met Madhusudan Katti in Mundanthurai, southern Tamil Nadu, more than 10 years ago when he was collecting field data for his PhD on migratory warblers. Madhu, now at the California State University in Fresno, and his collaborators in the Central Arizona Phoenix Long-Term Ecological Research Project -- at the University of Arizona, usa -- work on bird diversity in urbanising landscapes. For over five years, they have documented the patterns of bird diversity in Phoenix and Tucson, Arizona, and studied processes and mechanisms underlying these patterns such as changes in populations of predators (urban cats), competitors (exotic pigeons, starlings, and house sparrows) and the structure of urban landscapes.
Focusing on three main habitats -- the native Sonoran desert, agricultural fields, and urban areas -- they found that urban areas support two or three times as many birds as the desert, although species diversity is lower in cities. Even native bird species that can figure out how to make a living on the food surplus generated by humans (either through bird feeders or food waste in garbage) can thrive in the city, providing urban planners and nature conservationists work together in designing better habitats for humans and native birds.
The biggest surprise though comes from the analysis of the socio-economic data. Madhusudan and his team found that bird diversity was positively correlated with median family income. In other words, birds prefer richer parts of town. The reasons for this are not hard to discern. Richer areas tend to have more independent houses as opposed to flats, more land around each house, trees, more birdbaths. Further, richer homes may also be located closer to natural areas, either at the edge of the city or near the larger urban parks. Madhu, therefore, raises the critical question of environmental equity. If an increasing proportion of humanity inhabits inner city areas bereft of any natural environments, how will we get large-scale support for environmental conservation? How will the people who inhabit these neighbourhoods develop sensitivity to environmental issues when they have never seen a bird or a tree?
This should make us question the way conservation is practised in India today. For example, much of the debate revolves around the relocation of people out of protected areas. In a country where a large number of people do live adjacent to or in natural environments, our best efforts are to move them away from it. When we should be nurturing their sensitivity to the environment, we seem bent on turning them against it. We might not be able to preserve the social milieu, which created their vast repositories of ecological knowledge, but we can certainly preserve the knowledge itself. What's more, given our current relocation mechanisms, people who are moved out of protected areas seem almost destined to become part of inner-city slums. In other words, rather than increase environmental equity, our conservation paradigm actually decreases it.
Similar questions can be asked about our environmental education programmes. How often do ngos take children living adjacent to protected areas for field trips to see tigers? Do they appreciate their forests, or is it something old-fashioned that the previous generation goes on about, while gen-next has its sights set on conquering the city? Of course, one must also question urban development planning. Few industrialists or city planners or politicians have attempted to marry environmental concerns and urban planning. Even Bangalore has long forsaken its claim to fame as the garden city, and is now the it capital. Perhaps its time to rethink our strategy.
The answers are not simple, but there are some useful indicators. Inner city areas are not avoidable, and migration to cities is not going to stop. However, urban planning can and should take such factors into account, and ensure that access to natural environments is available regardless of economic class. Many Indian cities still do have some degree of natural habitats and these have served the cause of conservation well. The number of birdwatchers who have spent their youth at the Delhi ridge, at Guindy National Park or Theosophical Society in Chennai, or Lalbagh in Bangalore, and gone on to become biologists or conservationists, is testament to the importance of these habitats. The number of people of various ages who have been on a turtle walk in Chennai to see an olive ridley turtle in the last 30 years shows how urban landscapes can still be environmentally invaluable.
I first met Madhusudan Katti in Mundanthurai, southern Tamil Nadu, more than 10 years ago when he was collecting field data for his PhD on migratory warblers. Madhu, now at the California State University in Fresno, and his collaborators in the Central Arizona Phoenix Long-Term Ecological Research Project -- at the University of Arizona, usa -- work on bird diversity in urbanising landscapes. For over five years, they have documented the patterns of bird diversity in Phoenix and Tucson, Arizona, and studied processes and mechanisms underlying these patterns such as changes in populations of predators (urban cats), competitors (exotic pigeons, starlings, and house sparrows) and the structure of urban landscapes.
Focusing on three main habitats -- the native Sonoran desert, agricultural fields, and urban areas -- they found that urban areas support two or three times as many birds as the desert, although species diversity is lower in cities. Even native bird species that can figure out how to make a living on the food surplus generated by humans (either through bird feeders or food waste in garbage) can thrive in the city, providing urban planners and nature conservationists work together in designing better habitats for humans and native birds.
The biggest surprise though comes from the analysis of the socio-economic data. Madhusudan and his team found that bird diversity was positively correlated with median family income. In other words, birds prefer richer parts of town. The reasons for this are not hard to discern. Richer areas tend to have more independent houses as opposed to flats, more land around each house, trees, more birdbaths. Further, richer homes may also be located closer to natural areas, either at the edge of the city or near the larger urban parks. Madhu, therefore, raises the critical question of environmental equity. If an increasing proportion of humanity inhabits inner city areas bereft of any natural environments, how will we get large-scale support for environmental conservation? How will the people who inhabit these neighbourhoods develop sensitivity to environmental issues when they have never seen a bird or a tree?
This should make us question the way conservation is practised in India today. For example, much of the debate revolves around the relocation of people out of protected areas. In a country where a large number of people do live adjacent to or in natural environments, our best efforts are to move them away from it. When we should be nurturing their sensitivity to the environment, we seem bent on turning them against it. We might not be able to preserve the social milieu, which created their vast repositories of ecological knowledge, but we can certainly preserve the knowledge itself. What's more, given our current relocation mechanisms, people who are moved out of protected areas seem almost destined to become part of inner-city slums. In other words, rather than increase environmental equity, our conservation paradigm actually decreases it.
Similar questions can be asked about our environmental education programmes. How often do ngos take children living adjacent to protected areas for field trips to see tigers? Do they appreciate their forests, or is it something old-fashioned that the previous generation goes on about, while gen-next has its sights set on conquering the city? Of course, one must also question urban development planning. Few industrialists or city planners or politicians have attempted to marry environmental concerns and urban planning. Even Bangalore has long forsaken its claim to fame as the garden city, and is now the it capital. Perhaps its time to rethink our strategy.
The answers are not simple, but there are some useful indicators. Inner city areas are not avoidable, and migration to cities is not going to stop. However, urban planning can and should take such factors into account, and ensure that access to natural environments is available regardless of economic class. Many Indian cities still do have some degree of natural habitats and these have served the cause of conservation well. The number of birdwatchers who have spent their youth at the Delhi ridge, at Guindy National Park or Theosophical Society in Chennai, or Lalbagh in Bangalore, and gone on to become biologists or conservationists, is testament to the importance of these habitats. The number of people of various ages who have been on a turtle walk in Chennai to see an olive ridley turtle in the last 30 years shows how urban landscapes can still be environmentally invaluable.
Can good science help conservation ?
Originally published in Down to Earth, September 15, 2006. [PDF]
In a world where technology plays an increasingly important role, and science is invoked almost as often as the Bible, few people understand what good science is. In principle, science is considered to be an objective knowledge system that proposes theories that can be supported or refuted by data. In fact, the very definition of science, as formulated by Karl Popper, is that it must be refutable. In this formulation, articles of faith, like most religious doctrines, are not science because they can neither be proved nor disproved. Science allows itself to be constantly updated by new information and empirical evidence. Science is also supposed to be open and democratic and in some sense, casteless, though many social scientists will argue that the high priests of science have as much influence over their faithful as any religious leader.
Many philosophers and historians of science have examined the way in which science operates and evolves.Thomas Kuhn, in his seminal work, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, laid out a scheme for the progress of science. He suggested that science remained constrained within the bounds of 'normal science' -- paradigm which came with a set of assumptions that scientists shared and defended; they even subverted novelties because it questioned the paradigm. A shift in shared commitments and assumptions, a 'scientific revolution', occurred when there was an anomaly or a discovery that changed these assumptions and resulted in a new theory or paradigm.
The fundamental assumption about science is that it is objective. In fact, it strives to objectively perfect even if that is never truly attainable. Historians agree that while most scientific disciplines were very much products of societies in their early days, they have evolved to become largely objective over time. However, most also agree that science, even today, does have social influences. In fact, objectivity itself is a social value that the scientific community has imposed on its activities.
Why is objectivity important? Science is, amongst other things, about talking a shared language with minimum ambiguity. Two observers of primate behaviour must record the same actions by the same terms; they should observe the animals at the same times of the day and year, and not be influenced by the fact that one researcher likes to sleep late or work in summer; their sampling sessions should be randomly chosen and not biased by one researcher's interest in aggression. In sociology or psychology, differences in perception are fascinating. In animal behaviour, it is noise or error, that needs to be eliminated. Admittedly, science does not always attain this level of sophistication, though it has objectivity as its holy grail.
The path to objectivity can be subverted in many ways, including the process of peer review in journals. For example, one study showed that scientific papers were much more likely to be accepted by journals if they supported existing theories (also held by editors of a journal) rather than if they contradicted the theories. Another study took 30 published papers written by well respected authors from large universities and replaced the author and university names with lesser known names. The very same pieces were now rejected by the same journals.
This is of particular relevance to conservation, which needs an integration of rigorous research in a wide variety of disciplines from the physical sciences (geology, hydrology, atmospheric sciences), life sciences (ecology, epidemiology, genetics) and social sciences (environmental sociology and anthropology, history, law). Furthermore, ecology deals with complex systems that have a great deal of variability and poor predictability. And the field of conservation science is perhaps even more imbued with values than other sciences. Philosophical debates about co-existence between humans and wildlife, pristineness of wild areas, and animal welfare seep through every discussion of conservation paradigms. This does make scientific studies in this discipline difficult. However, rather than jettison science as a tool (which many opponents and proponents of conservation would be happy to do), we need to learn to use it carefully. In conservation, science cannot answer the questions of 'why' such as 'why do want a pristine forest?', but it can help us address the question of 'how' or 'what' 'how can a forest be managed?' This has a great deal more to do with science than management. All said and done, in a value laden world, science is a valuable tool and enterprise, that has a significant role to play in the future of conservation.
In a world where technology plays an increasingly important role, and science is invoked almost as often as the Bible, few people understand what good science is. In principle, science is considered to be an objective knowledge system that proposes theories that can be supported or refuted by data. In fact, the very definition of science, as formulated by Karl Popper, is that it must be refutable. In this formulation, articles of faith, like most religious doctrines, are not science because they can neither be proved nor disproved. Science allows itself to be constantly updated by new information and empirical evidence. Science is also supposed to be open and democratic and in some sense, casteless, though many social scientists will argue that the high priests of science have as much influence over their faithful as any religious leader.
Many philosophers and historians of science have examined the way in which science operates and evolves.Thomas Kuhn, in his seminal work, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, laid out a scheme for the progress of science. He suggested that science remained constrained within the bounds of 'normal science' -- paradigm which came with a set of assumptions that scientists shared and defended; they even subverted novelties because it questioned the paradigm. A shift in shared commitments and assumptions, a 'scientific revolution', occurred when there was an anomaly or a discovery that changed these assumptions and resulted in a new theory or paradigm.
The fundamental assumption about science is that it is objective. In fact, it strives to objectively perfect even if that is never truly attainable. Historians agree that while most scientific disciplines were very much products of societies in their early days, they have evolved to become largely objective over time. However, most also agree that science, even today, does have social influences. In fact, objectivity itself is a social value that the scientific community has imposed on its activities.
Why is objectivity important? Science is, amongst other things, about talking a shared language with minimum ambiguity. Two observers of primate behaviour must record the same actions by the same terms; they should observe the animals at the same times of the day and year, and not be influenced by the fact that one researcher likes to sleep late or work in summer; their sampling sessions should be randomly chosen and not biased by one researcher's interest in aggression. In sociology or psychology, differences in perception are fascinating. In animal behaviour, it is noise or error, that needs to be eliminated. Admittedly, science does not always attain this level of sophistication, though it has objectivity as its holy grail.
The path to objectivity can be subverted in many ways, including the process of peer review in journals. For example, one study showed that scientific papers were much more likely to be accepted by journals if they supported existing theories (also held by editors of a journal) rather than if they contradicted the theories. Another study took 30 published papers written by well respected authors from large universities and replaced the author and university names with lesser known names. The very same pieces were now rejected by the same journals.
This is of particular relevance to conservation, which needs an integration of rigorous research in a wide variety of disciplines from the physical sciences (geology, hydrology, atmospheric sciences), life sciences (ecology, epidemiology, genetics) and social sciences (environmental sociology and anthropology, history, law). Furthermore, ecology deals with complex systems that have a great deal of variability and poor predictability. And the field of conservation science is perhaps even more imbued with values than other sciences. Philosophical debates about co-existence between humans and wildlife, pristineness of wild areas, and animal welfare seep through every discussion of conservation paradigms. This does make scientific studies in this discipline difficult. However, rather than jettison science as a tool (which many opponents and proponents of conservation would be happy to do), we need to learn to use it carefully. In conservation, science cannot answer the questions of 'why' such as 'why do want a pristine forest?', but it can help us address the question of 'how' or 'what' 'how can a forest be managed?' This has a great deal more to do with science than management. All said and done, in a value laden world, science is a valuable tool and enterprise, that has a significant role to play in the future of conservation.
Small empty patches are important
Originally published in Down to Earth, June 15, 2006. [PDF]
In "An Island Away" (Down To Earth, April 30, 2006), I talked about the theory of island biogeography which played a major role in community ecology and conservation biology in the 1970s and the 1980s. In the 1990s, another theory came to the fore: metapopulation biology or dynamics. The term metapopulation was coined by Richard Levins in the early 1970s to describe a population of populations. Classical metapopulations comprise a series of patches where a particular species could potentially survive, with some patches being occupied and others lying empty at any point in time. In fact, island biogeography can be visualised within the framework of metapopulation theory, where one site is significantly larger than others (mainland and many islands) and colonisation largely takes place from the large site to the smaller ones.
There is also, however, a difference in perspective between the two theories, and that seems to have caused a paradigm shift. One factor that may have influenced this shift is that the island biogeography theory focuses on species equilibrium. Metapopulation theory, in contrast, focuses on population turnover (the extinction and re-establishment of each individual population on every patch). Further, much of the recent interest in conservation biology has centred on population genetics, especially the study of genetic drift and inbreeding in small populations. Small populations are also susceptible to extinction due to random demographic changes (such as reproduction, juvenile and adult mortality) or environmental events (fire, storms and other catastrophes). The role of population characteristics of different species and environmental factors in determining minimum viable populations for these species has also been an important part of conservation studies.
Most importantly, metapopulation theory may have rescued small patches from their devaluation in island biogeography models. The first rule of refuge design based on island biogeography said that larger areas would have more species than small ones, and suggested that small populations in small sites would be unviable because they are subject to more environmental and demographic factors and hence more susceptible to extinction. This could easily be interpreted by opponents of conservation processes to claim all small sites for development. Salvation came from metapopulation theory, which showed the importance of a larger number of sites, where extinction on some (some unoccupied sites always exixt) is a natural part of the process of metapopulation persistence: empty sites are necessary for a metapopulation.
A metapopulation is a set of local populations within some larger area, where migration from one population to another is possible. A patch is a continuous area with all requisites for the persistence of a local population. It is separated from other patches by unsuitable habitat. The classical Levins metapopulation is a large network of similar small patches, with population processes within a patch occurring at a much faster rate than population processes across patches.
The simplest models of metapopulation dynamics, such as the classical model, only look at occupancy of sites by a species, ignoring population sizes. The more complex ones include the distribution of population sizes in various patches. At another level, the spatially explicit models include parameters such as distance between patches, which influence migration of animals between patches -- an essential part of recolonisation. Spatially realistic models assign areas, spatial locations and other attributes to patches, based on real networks of patches in nature. Thus the most complex models attempt to reproduce natural conditions and study factors which influence the survival or persistence of the metapopulation.
The current literature would appear to suggest that metapopulation theory provides a more comprehensive framework to study fragmented populations than island theory. But metapopulation theory is a developing field: while some models have been developed in the context of single species population dynamics, much work is needed to develop models for communities and to integrate other fields such as genetics, evolution and epidemiology. Of course, the theory's development is inextricably linked with landscape ecology, especially with the wealth of new methods and information using a geographical information systems frameworks.
In "An Island Away" (Down To Earth, April 30, 2006), I talked about the theory of island biogeography which played a major role in community ecology and conservation biology in the 1970s and the 1980s. In the 1990s, another theory came to the fore: metapopulation biology or dynamics. The term metapopulation was coined by Richard Levins in the early 1970s to describe a population of populations. Classical metapopulations comprise a series of patches where a particular species could potentially survive, with some patches being occupied and others lying empty at any point in time. In fact, island biogeography can be visualised within the framework of metapopulation theory, where one site is significantly larger than others (mainland and many islands) and colonisation largely takes place from the large site to the smaller ones.
There is also, however, a difference in perspective between the two theories, and that seems to have caused a paradigm shift. One factor that may have influenced this shift is that the island biogeography theory focuses on species equilibrium. Metapopulation theory, in contrast, focuses on population turnover (the extinction and re-establishment of each individual population on every patch). Further, much of the recent interest in conservation biology has centred on population genetics, especially the study of genetic drift and inbreeding in small populations. Small populations are also susceptible to extinction due to random demographic changes (such as reproduction, juvenile and adult mortality) or environmental events (fire, storms and other catastrophes). The role of population characteristics of different species and environmental factors in determining minimum viable populations for these species has also been an important part of conservation studies.
Most importantly, metapopulation theory may have rescued small patches from their devaluation in island biogeography models. The first rule of refuge design based on island biogeography said that larger areas would have more species than small ones, and suggested that small populations in small sites would be unviable because they are subject to more environmental and demographic factors and hence more susceptible to extinction. This could easily be interpreted by opponents of conservation processes to claim all small sites for development. Salvation came from metapopulation theory, which showed the importance of a larger number of sites, where extinction on some (some unoccupied sites always exixt) is a natural part of the process of metapopulation persistence: empty sites are necessary for a metapopulation.
A metapopulation is a set of local populations within some larger area, where migration from one population to another is possible. A patch is a continuous area with all requisites for the persistence of a local population. It is separated from other patches by unsuitable habitat. The classical Levins metapopulation is a large network of similar small patches, with population processes within a patch occurring at a much faster rate than population processes across patches.
The simplest models of metapopulation dynamics, such as the classical model, only look at occupancy of sites by a species, ignoring population sizes. The more complex ones include the distribution of population sizes in various patches. At another level, the spatially explicit models include parameters such as distance between patches, which influence migration of animals between patches -- an essential part of recolonisation. Spatially realistic models assign areas, spatial locations and other attributes to patches, based on real networks of patches in nature. Thus the most complex models attempt to reproduce natural conditions and study factors which influence the survival or persistence of the metapopulation.
The current literature would appear to suggest that metapopulation theory provides a more comprehensive framework to study fragmented populations than island theory. But metapopulation theory is a developing field: while some models have been developed in the context of single species population dynamics, much work is needed to develop models for communities and to integrate other fields such as genetics, evolution and epidemiology. Of course, the theory's development is inextricably linked with landscape ecology, especially with the wealth of new methods and information using a geographical information systems frameworks.
An island away
Originally published in Down to Earth, April 30, 2006. [PDF]
In the 1960s, two of the world's best-known biologists collaborated to propose a theory that was to revolutionise the world of ecology and, later, conservation. Robert Macarthur, a geographical ecologist, and Edward Wilson, famous for his work on insect societies, wrote a monograph on the theory of island biogeography. This theory generated a whole field of study on animal and plant communities on islands including aspects of diversity, community structure and population dynamics.
The theory proposed that the number of species on islands was essentially determined by the rate of colonisation by new species and the rate of extinction of existing species. The rate of colonisation was dependent upon the distance of the island from the mainland, with closer islands having higher colonisation rates. On the other hand, the rate of extinction was dependent upon the size of the islands, with larger islands having lower extinction rates.
Thus larger islands close to the mainland have relatively larger number of species, while smaller islands have fewer species. The theory was later extended to fragmented and isolated habitats on land and gained importance in the context of fragmentation of forests all around the world.
Initial opposition to this theory came from David Lack, the famous British ornithologist, who believed that the number of species on islands was only a function of the habitats available on the island. However, empirical studies on islands by Simberloff, Wilson and others supported the basic tenets of the theory of island biogeography and contributed to its development.
Island biogeography also spawned a range of related theories such as the stepping stone theory, which tried to explain the pattern of species distribution and richness on archipelagos. The rescue effect examined the recolonisation of islands leading to reestablishment of species that had become extinct. Other studies examined the effect of geometry, topography and other factors that might determine the number of species on islands.
However, island biogeography had its greatest impact on conservation. Within a decade, the theory became the backbone of conservation biology, with a series of papers advocating a set of rules for the design of refuges. These rules suggested a refuge configuration that would maximise species richness or diversity, Actually, the rules stemmed from a series of E O Willis's lectures in 1971. The rules gained more acceptances with papers by Jared Diamond, E O Wilson, and E O Willis, in the seventies, and got a seal of approval from iucn, wwf and the United Nations in 1980, upon the publication of a report on global extinctions.
In subsequent years, there has been much debate about whether these rules really conformed to the predictions of the island biogeography theory, and how scientifically grounded the rules actually were.
One of the most widely debated of the rules was the sloss ('single large or several small') dilemma. The main question here was, if a given area was to be set aside as a natural reserve or sanctuary, would it be better to have several small patches of forest or a single large patch? Island biogeography suggests that smaller islands would have higher rates of extinction and therefore would not support many of the species that large patches would. This implied that a single large patch would have more species than several small patches combined. This seems to suggest that a single large patch would indeed be better than several small patches.
This work did much to highlight the danger of fragmentation of forests, as a global problem, but it did have some negative consequences as well. For example, it became a popular notion that large reserves were better, and that small, impoverished forest fragments were worthless. Also, the theory did not account for many factors; for example, populations in many small patches may be more resistant to epidemics than single large populations.
In summary, the theory of island biogeography was profoundly successful and energised several fields of research, including community ecology and population biology. It galvanised conservation action and research, and gave birth to many new theories, including the one to supplant it -- metapopulation dynamics.
In the 1960s, two of the world's best-known biologists collaborated to propose a theory that was to revolutionise the world of ecology and, later, conservation. Robert Macarthur, a geographical ecologist, and Edward Wilson, famous for his work on insect societies, wrote a monograph on the theory of island biogeography. This theory generated a whole field of study on animal and plant communities on islands including aspects of diversity, community structure and population dynamics.
The theory proposed that the number of species on islands was essentially determined by the rate of colonisation by new species and the rate of extinction of existing species. The rate of colonisation was dependent upon the distance of the island from the mainland, with closer islands having higher colonisation rates. On the other hand, the rate of extinction was dependent upon the size of the islands, with larger islands having lower extinction rates.
Thus larger islands close to the mainland have relatively larger number of species, while smaller islands have fewer species. The theory was later extended to fragmented and isolated habitats on land and gained importance in the context of fragmentation of forests all around the world.
Initial opposition to this theory came from David Lack, the famous British ornithologist, who believed that the number of species on islands was only a function of the habitats available on the island. However, empirical studies on islands by Simberloff, Wilson and others supported the basic tenets of the theory of island biogeography and contributed to its development.
Island biogeography also spawned a range of related theories such as the stepping stone theory, which tried to explain the pattern of species distribution and richness on archipelagos. The rescue effect examined the recolonisation of islands leading to reestablishment of species that had become extinct. Other studies examined the effect of geometry, topography and other factors that might determine the number of species on islands.
However, island biogeography had its greatest impact on conservation. Within a decade, the theory became the backbone of conservation biology, with a series of papers advocating a set of rules for the design of refuges. These rules suggested a refuge configuration that would maximise species richness or diversity, Actually, the rules stemmed from a series of E O Willis's lectures in 1971. The rules gained more acceptances with papers by Jared Diamond, E O Wilson, and E O Willis, in the seventies, and got a seal of approval from iucn, wwf and the United Nations in 1980, upon the publication of a report on global extinctions.
In subsequent years, there has been much debate about whether these rules really conformed to the predictions of the island biogeography theory, and how scientifically grounded the rules actually were.
One of the most widely debated of the rules was the sloss ('single large or several small') dilemma. The main question here was, if a given area was to be set aside as a natural reserve or sanctuary, would it be better to have several small patches of forest or a single large patch? Island biogeography suggests that smaller islands would have higher rates of extinction and therefore would not support many of the species that large patches would. This implied that a single large patch would have more species than several small patches combined. This seems to suggest that a single large patch would indeed be better than several small patches.
This work did much to highlight the danger of fragmentation of forests, as a global problem, but it did have some negative consequences as well. For example, it became a popular notion that large reserves were better, and that small, impoverished forest fragments were worthless. Also, the theory did not account for many factors; for example, populations in many small patches may be more resistant to epidemics than single large populations.
In summary, the theory of island biogeography was profoundly successful and energised several fields of research, including community ecology and population biology. It galvanised conservation action and research, and gave birth to many new theories, including the one to supplant it -- metapopulation dynamics.
For a common environmental ethic
Originally published in Down to Earth, March 15, 2006. [PDF]
In general, when I tell people that I am an ecologist, I am invariably asked if I am a vegetarian. People are generally shocked to hear that I am not, and that not only do I eat domestic animals, I have no compunctions about consuming wild creatures as long as the harvest is sustainable. This is a lot less shocking than most people might imagine. In fact, a significant proportion of non-vegetarians do consume wild creatures: fish.
Clearly there is a disjunct here. There are those who are against the killing of whales because these magnificent animals face extinction, and there are those who are against such killings because they believe that humans should not kill animals. The former are called conservationists, the latter animal rights activists. Though the lines often blur because animal rights activists often use conservation arguments as part of their rhetoric (and sometimes vice versa), philosophers of science have argued that these two movements are based on very different principles.
The contrasts There are several weaknesses with the animal rights approach to conservation. Firstly, recognising the right of every individual animal is neither practical nor feasible as a conservation approach. Secondly, it does not distinguish between domestic and wild species, between the endangered and non-endangered ones, or even between the common and rare ones. In contrast, conservation is concerned with species and their survival but with a very different purpose: the maintenance of genetic and ecological diversity.
Animal rights essentially oppose the utilisation of animals, thus negating reasons that a vast majority of people have for conserving animals. This culturally insensitive approach imposes a narrow version of the human relationship with animals on the rest of society. In India, the conservation of many animals is based on a strong cultural identification with a range of animals from elephants to tigers and turtles. While most groups working for their conservation firmly believe that they have a scientific conservation agenda, their actions belie this. More often than not, indirect threats which pose the greatest long term threat to these populations are given scant attention, while direct killing receives the most press and action. Much of wild populations are resilient: tigers, for example, can breed like rabbits given the right conditions. As conservationists, one should be less concerned about poaching and seriously concerned about habitat loss, especially to large corporations. One should also be seriously concerned about the livelihoods of communities. Environmental and social justice are linked far more intricately than wildlife activists would currently care to accept.
Critically, animal rights philosophies or undercurrents lead to knee-jerk reactions to conservation issues, which prevent implementation of long-term solutions. For example, the sea turtle conservation movement in Orissa has focused around the incidental mortality of Olive Ridleys in fishing nets. The short-term stratagem of anti-trawling patrols and media blitzes has failed to reduce mortality, and polarised fishing communities and many turtle right activists. While ignoring the possibility of a negotiated settlement (which takes time), this approach has also ignored (at its peril and that of the turtles), the threat from impending development on the coast, which in the form of large ports and oil exploration, has just begun to bite.
Not well served Thus, animal liberation and environmental conservation are served by very different approaches and actions. Animal rights, being by definition less concerned with human welfare, alienates at least some proportion of the public, and its association with biological conservation in media and in the minds of the public does not help the cause of the latter. While media attention to environmental issues does raise awareness, such attention can have both positive and negative impacts. In fact, misrepresenting an issue could lead to loss of credibility, which would affect the environmental movement as a whole.
As a compromise between the extreme positions of bio- and anthropocentrism, the philosopher Brian Norton suggested weak anthropocentrism, which stresses the cultural value of nature in human society, in addition to its utilitarian value. For example, shells can be appreciated both because they are beautiful and because they are useful.
In general, when I tell people that I am an ecologist, I am invariably asked if I am a vegetarian. People are generally shocked to hear that I am not, and that not only do I eat domestic animals, I have no compunctions about consuming wild creatures as long as the harvest is sustainable. This is a lot less shocking than most people might imagine. In fact, a significant proportion of non-vegetarians do consume wild creatures: fish.
Clearly there is a disjunct here. There are those who are against the killing of whales because these magnificent animals face extinction, and there are those who are against such killings because they believe that humans should not kill animals. The former are called conservationists, the latter animal rights activists. Though the lines often blur because animal rights activists often use conservation arguments as part of their rhetoric (and sometimes vice versa), philosophers of science have argued that these two movements are based on very different principles.
The contrasts There are several weaknesses with the animal rights approach to conservation. Firstly, recognising the right of every individual animal is neither practical nor feasible as a conservation approach. Secondly, it does not distinguish between domestic and wild species, between the endangered and non-endangered ones, or even between the common and rare ones. In contrast, conservation is concerned with species and their survival but with a very different purpose: the maintenance of genetic and ecological diversity.
Animal rights essentially oppose the utilisation of animals, thus negating reasons that a vast majority of people have for conserving animals. This culturally insensitive approach imposes a narrow version of the human relationship with animals on the rest of society. In India, the conservation of many animals is based on a strong cultural identification with a range of animals from elephants to tigers and turtles. While most groups working for their conservation firmly believe that they have a scientific conservation agenda, their actions belie this. More often than not, indirect threats which pose the greatest long term threat to these populations are given scant attention, while direct killing receives the most press and action. Much of wild populations are resilient: tigers, for example, can breed like rabbits given the right conditions. As conservationists, one should be less concerned about poaching and seriously concerned about habitat loss, especially to large corporations. One should also be seriously concerned about the livelihoods of communities. Environmental and social justice are linked far more intricately than wildlife activists would currently care to accept.
Critically, animal rights philosophies or undercurrents lead to knee-jerk reactions to conservation issues, which prevent implementation of long-term solutions. For example, the sea turtle conservation movement in Orissa has focused around the incidental mortality of Olive Ridleys in fishing nets. The short-term stratagem of anti-trawling patrols and media blitzes has failed to reduce mortality, and polarised fishing communities and many turtle right activists. While ignoring the possibility of a negotiated settlement (which takes time), this approach has also ignored (at its peril and that of the turtles), the threat from impending development on the coast, which in the form of large ports and oil exploration, has just begun to bite.
Not well served Thus, animal liberation and environmental conservation are served by very different approaches and actions. Animal rights, being by definition less concerned with human welfare, alienates at least some proportion of the public, and its association with biological conservation in media and in the minds of the public does not help the cause of the latter. While media attention to environmental issues does raise awareness, such attention can have both positive and negative impacts. In fact, misrepresenting an issue could lead to loss of credibility, which would affect the environmental movement as a whole.
As a compromise between the extreme positions of bio- and anthropocentrism, the philosopher Brian Norton suggested weak anthropocentrism, which stresses the cultural value of nature in human society, in addition to its utilitarian value. For example, shells can be appreciated both because they are beautiful and because they are useful.
Taxonomic debates are important
Originally published in Down to Earth, February 15, 2006. [PDF]
Many years ago, Stephen Jay Gould wrote an essay titled "What, if anything, is a zebra?" In this piece, he tried to explore whether some zebras were more closely related by descent to horses than they were to other zebras? He argued that since the three species of zebras did not comprise a group with a single ancestor (that gave rise to them alone and not to any other species of horse) there was in fact no such thing as a zebra in the evolutionary sense. There has been similar debate over the status of green and black sea turtles, with added confusion for the layperson since most green turtles aren't even green. Named for the colour of their fat, these turtles occur worldwide and are considered grazers of the sea. Their large numbers in many regions are believed to have shaped eco-systems.
Today, however, green turtles (C mydas) are in decline in many parts of the world and require serious conservation efforts. In the East Pacific, there is a darker, smaller form of the turtle, long known as the East Pacific green turtle or the black turtle. There has been considerable debate over whether this should be classified as a separate species (taxonomists name it as Chelonia agassizii) or if it should be a subspecies of the green turtle (C mydas agassizii). Those who believe it should be considered a separate species argue that the East Pacific green turtle looks very different: most of them have a dark carapace, which also differs in shape and size from that of other green turtles. Critically, however, genetic analysis showed that the black turtle was only a part of the genetic sub-group of the green turtle native to the Pacific Ocean. In fact, the major sub-division is between a Pacific Indian Ocean group and an Atlantic-Mediterranean group. This meant that if sub-species or species were to be named, these groups would have to be classified first before any further splitting was possible.
A similar dilemma exists with ridley sea turtles. Long considered a small unique population, the Kemps ridley on the east coast of Mexico has garnered all the conservation attention among the ridleys. The olive ridley, a close relative, has been considered widely distributed and common. Our work on the east coast of India (published in Molecular Ecology, 2004) showed that the ridley population in India was the closest relative of the Kemps ridleys, and the Indian population may have been ancestors of the ridleys in the Pacific and Atlantic oceans. The difference between the two was no more than the difference between Pacific and Atlantic green or leatherback turtles, which are widely considered as single species. Additionally, the variation between different populations of ridleys was found to be fairly significant, indicating that an exclusive focus on Kemps ridleys as unique and conservation-worthy is not the best way to protect the genetic diversity of this group.
Proponents of species status for these two species argue this can enhance their conservation. However, as scientists, we should be consistent in our description of the natural world, so that the interpretation of patterns is not subjective. Further, the focus has been on whether particular sub-populations should be designated as species or not, when the issue was the conservation of the diversity of the entire group.
The craving to describe new species can only be described as a taxonomic hangover from a period when exploration of the natural world and a discovery of its inhabitants was the principal concern of naturalists. Today, the description of species has important outcomes. A sub-group described as a species could find itself on the iucn Red List, making it attractive for conservation donors. Areas with large numbers of species are designated biodiversity hotspots and attract significant conservation attention and funding. But these should not distract from fundamental issues of conserving biological diversity in all its dimensions.
Many years ago, Stephen Jay Gould wrote an essay titled "What, if anything, is a zebra?" In this piece, he tried to explore whether some zebras were more closely related by descent to horses than they were to other zebras? He argued that since the three species of zebras did not comprise a group with a single ancestor (that gave rise to them alone and not to any other species of horse) there was in fact no such thing as a zebra in the evolutionary sense. There has been similar debate over the status of green and black sea turtles, with added confusion for the layperson since most green turtles aren't even green. Named for the colour of their fat, these turtles occur worldwide and are considered grazers of the sea. Their large numbers in many regions are believed to have shaped eco-systems.
Today, however, green turtles (C mydas) are in decline in many parts of the world and require serious conservation efforts. In the East Pacific, there is a darker, smaller form of the turtle, long known as the East Pacific green turtle or the black turtle. There has been considerable debate over whether this should be classified as a separate species (taxonomists name it as Chelonia agassizii) or if it should be a subspecies of the green turtle (C mydas agassizii). Those who believe it should be considered a separate species argue that the East Pacific green turtle looks very different: most of them have a dark carapace, which also differs in shape and size from that of other green turtles. Critically, however, genetic analysis showed that the black turtle was only a part of the genetic sub-group of the green turtle native to the Pacific Ocean. In fact, the major sub-division is between a Pacific Indian Ocean group and an Atlantic-Mediterranean group. This meant that if sub-species or species were to be named, these groups would have to be classified first before any further splitting was possible.
A similar dilemma exists with ridley sea turtles. Long considered a small unique population, the Kemps ridley on the east coast of Mexico has garnered all the conservation attention among the ridleys. The olive ridley, a close relative, has been considered widely distributed and common. Our work on the east coast of India (published in Molecular Ecology, 2004) showed that the ridley population in India was the closest relative of the Kemps ridleys, and the Indian population may have been ancestors of the ridleys in the Pacific and Atlantic oceans. The difference between the two was no more than the difference between Pacific and Atlantic green or leatherback turtles, which are widely considered as single species. Additionally, the variation between different populations of ridleys was found to be fairly significant, indicating that an exclusive focus on Kemps ridleys as unique and conservation-worthy is not the best way to protect the genetic diversity of this group.
Proponents of species status for these two species argue this can enhance their conservation. However, as scientists, we should be consistent in our description of the natural world, so that the interpretation of patterns is not subjective. Further, the focus has been on whether particular sub-populations should be designated as species or not, when the issue was the conservation of the diversity of the entire group.
The craving to describe new species can only be described as a taxonomic hangover from a period when exploration of the natural world and a discovery of its inhabitants was the principal concern of naturalists. Today, the description of species has important outcomes. A sub-group described as a species could find itself on the iucn Red List, making it attractive for conservation donors. Areas with large numbers of species are designated biodiversity hotspots and attract significant conservation attention and funding. But these should not distract from fundamental issues of conserving biological diversity in all its dimensions.
The holy book and the sacred list
Originally published in Down to Earth, December 31, 2005. [PDF]
The conservation of biodiversity has revolved around the creation of lists that prioritise species for conservation or estimate risks of extinction. Many countries have conservation laws such as the US Endangered Species Act and the Indian Wild Life (Protection) Act, 1972 which create their own lists. International instruments such as CITES (Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species) and CMS (Convention on the Conservation of Migratory Species) also include appendices which lists species that are either prohibited from trade or prioritized for conservation. The best known of these is the IUCN (World Conservation Union – International Union for the Conservation of Nature) Red List.
In the 1970s, the IUCN introduced the Red Data Book to create a list of species that were most endangered. This evolved into the Red List, and the criteria for species categories also evolved from the vague and subjective to the quantitative and objective. The current classification lists species as Extinct (Completely or Extinct in the Wild) Threatened (Critically Endangered, Endangered and Vulnerable), Near Threatened, Least Concern and Data Deficient.
Five criteria are used to arrive at the status of a species including (A) reduction in population size, (B) geographical range (C) population size combined with decline, (D) absolute population size, (E) quantitative analysis showing ‘risk of extinction’. A species must qualify under one or more criteria to be assigned to a particular category. For example, if a species has undergone a 90 % reduction in population size over three generations, then it is considered as ‘Critically Endangered’; If a species has undergone a 70 % reduction in population size over 3 generations, it is considered as ‘Endangered, and so on. Alternatively, a species may be classified as Critically Endangered, if it occupies an area of less than 10 square km, and occurs at only a single location; or if the population numbers less than 50 mature individuals (see www.redlist.org).
In theory, the criteria are objective and take into account some very reasonable surrogates for estimating the risk of extinction. However, in actual practice, it begs the question: does the data exist ? Let us take one of the above examples. To know if an animal has declined over 3 generations, we need to know what a generation is for a particular species. Biologically, it is half the reproductive span of the animal and is calculated as “(Total age – age at maturity) divided by two”. For most species, we do not know either the age at maturity or life span. Secondly, for most animals, there are few estimates of population size from the past; for large vertebrates, one would need population sizes from 50 or 100 years ago. Given the difficulty in estimating animal populations with any certainty today (a look at tiger censuses in India is sufficient evidence), using figures from half a century ago is fraught with danger. Data on other criteria on which the list is based are equally lacking or suspect.
Finally, the list depends exceedingly heavily on being able to define what a species is. Unfortunately, barring a few mammalogists, few biologists have any faith in commonly used species concepts. Compounding this theoretical issue is the very practical problem of too little research on most taxonomic groups. Obviously this impinges heavily on the ability to apply criteria. If a supposed species consists of more than one ‘species’, then the populations and areas of occurrence of these are obviously smaller.
However, most agencies worldwide – both government and non-government – use these as lists as representative of conservation prioritization. There is also a tendency among many ‘conservationists’ to get their species listed further ‘up’ so that they get the necessary conservation attention and money. This, in itself, is flawed as global extinction risks do not translate to local conservation priorities. Furthermore, assessments often occur under the precautionary principle that it is better to have a rough idea of the status of the species than none at all. One such assessment is the Conservation and Management Planning workshops conducted in south Asia by the Zoo Outreach Organisation. While these workshops provide sterling contributions to the state of the knowledge on these little known groups of animals, they are self defeating when they over-reach and provide IUCN categories for little known species. It is often hard to get permits to conduct research on species that are listed as threatened, and critical information required for their conservation (and even correct categorization) becomes even more difficult to collect.
The IUCN list is broadly useful, but one must apply it strictly as a conservation risk estimation. When it is used as an indicator of conservation priority or becomes a deterrant to research, as can happen in many countries, it is limited, inconsistent and can be dangerous.
The conservation of biodiversity has revolved around the creation of lists that prioritise species for conservation or estimate risks of extinction. Many countries have conservation laws such as the US Endangered Species Act and the Indian Wild Life (Protection) Act, 1972 which create their own lists. International instruments such as CITES (Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species) and CMS (Convention on the Conservation of Migratory Species) also include appendices which lists species that are either prohibited from trade or prioritized for conservation. The best known of these is the IUCN (World Conservation Union – International Union for the Conservation of Nature) Red List.
In the 1970s, the IUCN introduced the Red Data Book to create a list of species that were most endangered. This evolved into the Red List, and the criteria for species categories also evolved from the vague and subjective to the quantitative and objective. The current classification lists species as Extinct (Completely or Extinct in the Wild) Threatened (Critically Endangered, Endangered and Vulnerable), Near Threatened, Least Concern and Data Deficient.
Five criteria are used to arrive at the status of a species including (A) reduction in population size, (B) geographical range (C) population size combined with decline, (D) absolute population size, (E) quantitative analysis showing ‘risk of extinction’. A species must qualify under one or more criteria to be assigned to a particular category. For example, if a species has undergone a 90 % reduction in population size over three generations, then it is considered as ‘Critically Endangered’; If a species has undergone a 70 % reduction in population size over 3 generations, it is considered as ‘Endangered, and so on. Alternatively, a species may be classified as Critically Endangered, if it occupies an area of less than 10 square km, and occurs at only a single location; or if the population numbers less than 50 mature individuals (see www.redlist.org).
In theory, the criteria are objective and take into account some very reasonable surrogates for estimating the risk of extinction. However, in actual practice, it begs the question: does the data exist ? Let us take one of the above examples. To know if an animal has declined over 3 generations, we need to know what a generation is for a particular species. Biologically, it is half the reproductive span of the animal and is calculated as “(Total age – age at maturity) divided by two”. For most species, we do not know either the age at maturity or life span. Secondly, for most animals, there are few estimates of population size from the past; for large vertebrates, one would need population sizes from 50 or 100 years ago. Given the difficulty in estimating animal populations with any certainty today (a look at tiger censuses in India is sufficient evidence), using figures from half a century ago is fraught with danger. Data on other criteria on which the list is based are equally lacking or suspect.
Finally, the list depends exceedingly heavily on being able to define what a species is. Unfortunately, barring a few mammalogists, few biologists have any faith in commonly used species concepts. Compounding this theoretical issue is the very practical problem of too little research on most taxonomic groups. Obviously this impinges heavily on the ability to apply criteria. If a supposed species consists of more than one ‘species’, then the populations and areas of occurrence of these are obviously smaller.
However, most agencies worldwide – both government and non-government – use these as lists as representative of conservation prioritization. There is also a tendency among many ‘conservationists’ to get their species listed further ‘up’ so that they get the necessary conservation attention and money. This, in itself, is flawed as global extinction risks do not translate to local conservation priorities. Furthermore, assessments often occur under the precautionary principle that it is better to have a rough idea of the status of the species than none at all. One such assessment is the Conservation and Management Planning workshops conducted in south Asia by the Zoo Outreach Organisation. While these workshops provide sterling contributions to the state of the knowledge on these little known groups of animals, they are self defeating when they over-reach and provide IUCN categories for little known species. It is often hard to get permits to conduct research on species that are listed as threatened, and critical information required for their conservation (and even correct categorization) becomes even more difficult to collect.
The IUCN list is broadly useful, but one must apply it strictly as a conservation risk estimation. When it is used as an indicator of conservation priority or becomes a deterrant to research, as can happen in many countries, it is limited, inconsistent and can be dangerous.
Lessons from Norse Mythology
Originally published in Down to Earth, November 15, 2005. [PDF]
Though almost all people sensitive to the environment agree on the need to conserve biodiversity — particularly endangered species — one finds little consensus on what species ought to be conserved, and why. Biologists claim that they have come up with objective methods of categorising species in terms of their priority for conservation. One such method is used to prepare the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List, which categorises species on basis of the basis of their extinction risk. However, this list can be criticised because it treats all species as equal, when in fact, they are not so — for a variety of reasons.
For example, some consider the coelocanth to be of great importance because it is the sole surviving representative of its group, a living fossil. Others lay much store on conserving species such as tigers because of their key role as top predators. On a different note, many biologists have recently suggested that conservation efforts should be directed towwards protecting processes, and not genes, species or ecosystems.
In 1999, US- biologist Brian Bowen wrote an interesting commentary in the journal Molecular Ecology. He revisited the piece in Conservation Biology, August 2005 as ‘Gaia’s handmaidens: the Orlog model for Conservation Biology’. Bowen, a PhD student of the famed John Avise — a pioneer in conservation genetics and phylogeography — made significant contributions to our understanding of sea turtle biology. His early work resolved the decade-old question of whether sea turtles return to their natal beaches to nest. In ‘Gaia’s handmaidens’, Bowen argues that conservation can be divided into three temporal domains, analogous to the Norse worldview, Orlog. In this worldwide, three sisters — Udi or past, Verdandi, the present and Skuld, future — tend the tree of life and fend off a dragon gnawing at its roots. Bowen suggests that phylogenetics, ecology and evolution have similar roles in conservation.
The three sisters
Phylogenetics, which identifies past species divergences, can help preserve species of yore. There are species that are representative of past diversity such as coelocanths, tuataras, and giant tortoises. Only a few of these left today, but they are carriers of evolutionary history. They are taxonomically unique, but their role in maintaining ecoystesms is debatable. In contrast, there are other groups phylogenetically less unique, but significant in maintaining ecosystems. From an ecologist’s perspective these are central to the preservation of habitats and ecological processes. Quality of ecosystem services, such as water and air, has become a key prop in shoring up support for environment conservation. The ecologically-significant species are likely to play a key role in ensuring the quality of these services. There are, however, other groups critical for future diversity. These groups, in fact, hold the key to complex and stable ecosystems in the future. In such groups, such as the cichlid fishes of Africa, the individual species might not be of much importance, but the evolutionary potential of the entire group might impact the future adaptations of their ecosystems.
It’s quite likely that conflicts over prioritisation and conservation value assessments are results of looking at issues through the different lenses of phylogenetics, ecology and evolution. But as in the Orlog, where all three sisters need to work together to preserve the tree of life, all three temporal domains need to be addressed for conservation to be truly successful.
What does this mean in practical terms? It impels us to ask a critical question: what do our conservation efforts imply for the preservation of all the three temporal domains of diversity? It also drives us to consider, more carefully, the conservation benefits of cloning, cryo-preservation and charismatic mega-vertebrates. The Orlog also makes us look at protected areas, afresh. These areas can serve as repositories of rare and unique species, and for somewhat unhampered evolutionary processes. While we certainly need these repositories to protect past and future components of diversites, a majority of human-dominated areas can be used to safeguard less taxonomically distinct, but ecologically important, species — those that contribute significantly to ecological diversity and to ecosystem services.
Thus, the current emphasis on inviolate areas needs to be complemented with emphasis on restoration and management of artificially altered landscapes. This would ensure holistic environmental conservation.
Though almost all people sensitive to the environment agree on the need to conserve biodiversity — particularly endangered species — one finds little consensus on what species ought to be conserved, and why. Biologists claim that they have come up with objective methods of categorising species in terms of their priority for conservation. One such method is used to prepare the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List, which categorises species on basis of the basis of their extinction risk. However, this list can be criticised because it treats all species as equal, when in fact, they are not so — for a variety of reasons.
For example, some consider the coelocanth to be of great importance because it is the sole surviving representative of its group, a living fossil. Others lay much store on conserving species such as tigers because of their key role as top predators. On a different note, many biologists have recently suggested that conservation efforts should be directed towwards protecting processes, and not genes, species or ecosystems.
In 1999, US- biologist Brian Bowen wrote an interesting commentary in the journal Molecular Ecology. He revisited the piece in Conservation Biology, August 2005 as ‘Gaia’s handmaidens: the Orlog model for Conservation Biology’. Bowen, a PhD student of the famed John Avise — a pioneer in conservation genetics and phylogeography — made significant contributions to our understanding of sea turtle biology. His early work resolved the decade-old question of whether sea turtles return to their natal beaches to nest. In ‘Gaia’s handmaidens’, Bowen argues that conservation can be divided into three temporal domains, analogous to the Norse worldview, Orlog. In this worldwide, three sisters — Udi or past, Verdandi, the present and Skuld, future — tend the tree of life and fend off a dragon gnawing at its roots. Bowen suggests that phylogenetics, ecology and evolution have similar roles in conservation.
The three sisters
Phylogenetics, which identifies past species divergences, can help preserve species of yore. There are species that are representative of past diversity such as coelocanths, tuataras, and giant tortoises. Only a few of these left today, but they are carriers of evolutionary history. They are taxonomically unique, but their role in maintaining ecoystesms is debatable. In contrast, there are other groups phylogenetically less unique, but significant in maintaining ecosystems. From an ecologist’s perspective these are central to the preservation of habitats and ecological processes. Quality of ecosystem services, such as water and air, has become a key prop in shoring up support for environment conservation. The ecologically-significant species are likely to play a key role in ensuring the quality of these services. There are, however, other groups critical for future diversity. These groups, in fact, hold the key to complex and stable ecosystems in the future. In such groups, such as the cichlid fishes of Africa, the individual species might not be of much importance, but the evolutionary potential of the entire group might impact the future adaptations of their ecosystems.
It’s quite likely that conflicts over prioritisation and conservation value assessments are results of looking at issues through the different lenses of phylogenetics, ecology and evolution. But as in the Orlog, where all three sisters need to work together to preserve the tree of life, all three temporal domains need to be addressed for conservation to be truly successful.
What does this mean in practical terms? It impels us to ask a critical question: what do our conservation efforts imply for the preservation of all the three temporal domains of diversity? It also drives us to consider, more carefully, the conservation benefits of cloning, cryo-preservation and charismatic mega-vertebrates. The Orlog also makes us look at protected areas, afresh. These areas can serve as repositories of rare and unique species, and for somewhat unhampered evolutionary processes. While we certainly need these repositories to protect past and future components of diversites, a majority of human-dominated areas can be used to safeguard less taxonomically distinct, but ecologically important, species — those that contribute significantly to ecological diversity and to ecosystem services.
Thus, the current emphasis on inviolate areas needs to be complemented with emphasis on restoration and management of artificially altered landscapes. This would ensure holistic environmental conservation.
Reconciliation: lessons from marine ecology
Originally published in Down to Earth, August 31, 2005. [PDF]
The Scheduled Tribes (Recognition of Forest Rights) Bill, 2005 has evoked heated controversy. In short, the bill seeks to provide land to a landless section among tribals. Wildlife conservationists who believe that critical forest habitat will be destroyed oppose this. Like its colonial predecessor, the government of India protects species' habitats by declaring them as national parks and sanctuaries from which people are excluded entirely. This is a stark contrast to the management of marine resources.
Much more densely inhabited than most forests, the coasts have been used by numerous fishing communities. In the late 1970s, modern fishing methods threatened the livelihoods of these communities and coastal ecosystems: mechanised craft and gear, principally trawlers with bottom trawling methods, severely impacted fishing stocks. By the early 1980s, many coastal states had responded by introducing legislation. For example, the Orissa Marine Fisheries Regulation Act, 1982 (omfra) prohibits all trawlers from fishing within 5 kilometre (km) of the shore. Laws such as omfra only proscribe activities; they do not exclude people from any area. Trawl fisherfolk can, in principle, still take their country craft out and fish in nearshore areas.
Marine conservation is widely believed to have lagged behind terrestrial conservation. In fact, not enough enforcement, funding and attention is provided to marine biodiversity. Only recent accounts of whale sharks, sea turtles and cetaceans have highlighted the plight of endangered marine vertebrates. In response, terrestrial style conservation has been introduced to five marine areas: Gahirmatha, Orissa, Gulf of Kutch, Gujarat, Gulf of Mannar, Tamil Nadu and two parks in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. Preliminary assessments, however, suggest that exclusionary methods used for terrestrial areas may simply not work in marine areas. In fact, one can even suggest that the marine paradigm of merely proscribing activities might work in many terrestrial areas. The standard argument against this method is that it requires strict enforcement. But case studies show otherwise. Trawlers adhere to fishing limits in parts of Tamil Nadu and Kerala because the traditional fishing communities here are vigilant, organised and informed. No amount of state vigilance could have enforced these regulations.
Empowerment: the key Better education and empowerment of communities have made fishing regulations work in South India. In contrast is the case of olive ridley conservation in Orissa. For the last few years, conservationists have been trying in vain to prevent these turtles from being trapped in trawl fishing nets. National and international efforts to introduce the turtle excluder device have failed, due to the non-cooperation of the trawl fishing community. Conservationists believe that enforcing omfra, which bans all mechanised fishing within 5 km of the cost, would help, especially since research has shown that most major turtle congregations occur within 5-6 km of the shore. But why hasn't the omfra been enforced 20 years after it was enacted? While the apathy of the Orissa fisheries department could be a part of the problem, perhaps the failure has more to do with the lack of interest or involvement of Orissa's traditional fishing communities .
The omfra could have succeeded if it was enforced to protect people's rights rather than those of a single enigmatic species. The turtles would have been protected, albeit inadvertently, if the law had been enforced for the reasons it was originally instituted: managing fisheries. Today, conservationists and fisherfolk have rallied under the banner of the Orissa Marine Resources Conservation Consortium. This alliance is possible because our fisheries laws only exclude certain activities rather than people. Not only can this form the basis for marine conservation in future, but can also help improve terrestrial conservation.
In 2003, the ecologist Michael Rosenzweig contended that only a small fraction of the world's land area can be protected as parks or sanctuaries. So, the biodiversity loss from the remaining area would still be very high, due to the nature of the species-area relationship. Rosenzweig argued that we must must reconcile people with biodiversity. The path to long-term biodiversity conservation lies is in this learning.
The current methods of wildlife conservation in India barely acknowledge this. But the state is slowly recognising the role of civil society in conservation: the inclusion of community reserves in the latest amendment of the Wildlife Protection Act, 1972 indicates this. Of course, state control over such reserves and a homogeneous formulation of community reserves in a country with diverse habitats, communities, cultures and needs has been strongly criticised. But it's a start, nevertheless.
Let's assure the protectionists that extending the marine paradigm to terrestrial areas does not mean opening up all national parks. In fact, it suggests that the strongest support for modern 'sacred groves' could come from people who are dependent on these groves.
The Scheduled Tribes (Recognition of Forest Rights) Bill, 2005 has evoked heated controversy. In short, the bill seeks to provide land to a landless section among tribals. Wildlife conservationists who believe that critical forest habitat will be destroyed oppose this. Like its colonial predecessor, the government of India protects species' habitats by declaring them as national parks and sanctuaries from which people are excluded entirely. This is a stark contrast to the management of marine resources.
Much more densely inhabited than most forests, the coasts have been used by numerous fishing communities. In the late 1970s, modern fishing methods threatened the livelihoods of these communities and coastal ecosystems: mechanised craft and gear, principally trawlers with bottom trawling methods, severely impacted fishing stocks. By the early 1980s, many coastal states had responded by introducing legislation. For example, the Orissa Marine Fisheries Regulation Act, 1982 (omfra) prohibits all trawlers from fishing within 5 kilometre (km) of the shore. Laws such as omfra only proscribe activities; they do not exclude people from any area. Trawl fisherfolk can, in principle, still take their country craft out and fish in nearshore areas.
Marine conservation is widely believed to have lagged behind terrestrial conservation. In fact, not enough enforcement, funding and attention is provided to marine biodiversity. Only recent accounts of whale sharks, sea turtles and cetaceans have highlighted the plight of endangered marine vertebrates. In response, terrestrial style conservation has been introduced to five marine areas: Gahirmatha, Orissa, Gulf of Kutch, Gujarat, Gulf of Mannar, Tamil Nadu and two parks in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. Preliminary assessments, however, suggest that exclusionary methods used for terrestrial areas may simply not work in marine areas. In fact, one can even suggest that the marine paradigm of merely proscribing activities might work in many terrestrial areas. The standard argument against this method is that it requires strict enforcement. But case studies show otherwise. Trawlers adhere to fishing limits in parts of Tamil Nadu and Kerala because the traditional fishing communities here are vigilant, organised and informed. No amount of state vigilance could have enforced these regulations.
Empowerment: the key Better education and empowerment of communities have made fishing regulations work in South India. In contrast is the case of olive ridley conservation in Orissa. For the last few years, conservationists have been trying in vain to prevent these turtles from being trapped in trawl fishing nets. National and international efforts to introduce the turtle excluder device have failed, due to the non-cooperation of the trawl fishing community. Conservationists believe that enforcing omfra, which bans all mechanised fishing within 5 km of the cost, would help, especially since research has shown that most major turtle congregations occur within 5-6 km of the shore. But why hasn't the omfra been enforced 20 years after it was enacted? While the apathy of the Orissa fisheries department could be a part of the problem, perhaps the failure has more to do with the lack of interest or involvement of Orissa's traditional fishing communities .
The omfra could have succeeded if it was enforced to protect people's rights rather than those of a single enigmatic species. The turtles would have been protected, albeit inadvertently, if the law had been enforced for the reasons it was originally instituted: managing fisheries. Today, conservationists and fisherfolk have rallied under the banner of the Orissa Marine Resources Conservation Consortium. This alliance is possible because our fisheries laws only exclude certain activities rather than people. Not only can this form the basis for marine conservation in future, but can also help improve terrestrial conservation.
In 2003, the ecologist Michael Rosenzweig contended that only a small fraction of the world's land area can be protected as parks or sanctuaries. So, the biodiversity loss from the remaining area would still be very high, due to the nature of the species-area relationship. Rosenzweig argued that we must must reconcile people with biodiversity. The path to long-term biodiversity conservation lies is in this learning.
The current methods of wildlife conservation in India barely acknowledge this. But the state is slowly recognising the role of civil society in conservation: the inclusion of community reserves in the latest amendment of the Wildlife Protection Act, 1972 indicates this. Of course, state control over such reserves and a homogeneous formulation of community reserves in a country with diverse habitats, communities, cultures and needs has been strongly criticised. But it's a start, nevertheless.
Let's assure the protectionists that extending the marine paradigm to terrestrial areas does not mean opening up all national parks. In fact, it suggests that the strongest support for modern 'sacred groves' could come from people who are dependent on these groves.
Using wildlife: farming out the problem
Originally published in Down to Earth, August 31, 2003.
A recent report that the Union ministry of environment and forests may be “exploring the possibility of allowing private persons to breed wild animals and extract medicinal products from them” has sent a ripple of discontent amongst the country’s conservationists. The debate over the ethics and economics of use (of which farming is but one form), and its contribution to the conservation of wild species has been characterised more by rhetoric than reason in most parts of the world — and India is no exception.
Given the struggle of current conservation paradigms, it is worthwhile to explore other possibilities. Farming is one such possibility. It has worked well in some cases (crocodiles and kangaroos in Australia) and not at all in others (crocodiles in China and Thailand).
Will farming of a particular species be economically viable? Opponents of the proposition maintain that it will always be cheaper to hunt wild species, for which essentially there is no maintenance cost to the user. However, there are many species with fairly low maintenance costs. Farming has many other advantages such as quality control, constancy of supply, quantity of supply, which put the farmer at an economic advantage. In fact, with captive stock in hand, the farmer will frequently be able to outcompete a wild product. Given the increase in global environmental awareness, there may even be greater demand for farm-labelled products. So, on economic considerations alone, one cannot argue against farming of wildlife. However, a more important consideration is that while farming may generate millions of dollars (as a certain tiger farm in Thailand apparently does), how does one ensure that this money is channelled back into the conservation of the wild population of the species. Ranching, for example, links the health of the wild population to commercial benefits and hence provides motivation and incentive to the user to ensure the survival of the species in the wild.
Second, who is to be the beneficiary of farming? If it is open to private businessmen (or say, multi-nationals), then the ‘poacher’ has no motivation to discontinue ‘use’ or ‘poaching’. Benefits of farming must therefore go to those who are closest — both geographically and culturally — to the resource, and to those who would risk hunting wild populations illegally in order to improve their economic status. The economic question is tied closely to livelihoods, education and empowerment of local communities. Hence the question must be reframed as ‘Would farming help conservation if local communities benefited from it, and were responsible for their own resource?’
Many conservationists in India are today opposed to wildlife use when its beneficiary is the poor local community. Their stand derives from a strongly protectionist philosophy. To be fair, protected areas are the reason for intact habitats and populations of many wild animals. However, with their focus principally on large mammals and their habitats, they are not and cannot be the sole method of conservation. And, the idea that humans must under all circumstances be separated from wildlife is a very elitist one. Why should local communities alone pay for for protecting the environment?
As biologists and conservationists, we need to be very careful while defining our stand on use and farming of wild animals. Our operating principle should be that the economic benefits of using species should be linked to the conservation of wild populations and their habitats. Suppose, as a compromise between positions, we recommend farming/use only in the following cases: when it benefits an economically deprived community; it leads to their economic and social empowerment, and better education (including environmental); the farming/use of the taxon is biologically/economically viable; general guidelines with regard to animal care can be followed; and the benefits can be used to improve conservation of the species in the wild. Would this or a similar set of caveats be an acceptable framework within which to use farming as a conservation tool? Obviously, what might work with some species, and in some areas, might not work for others because a diverse people would be involved. We should therefore be open to a variety of strategies, and use success as the ultimate measure.
A recent report that the Union ministry of environment and forests may be “exploring the possibility of allowing private persons to breed wild animals and extract medicinal products from them” has sent a ripple of discontent amongst the country’s conservationists. The debate over the ethics and economics of use (of which farming is but one form), and its contribution to the conservation of wild species has been characterised more by rhetoric than reason in most parts of the world — and India is no exception.
Given the struggle of current conservation paradigms, it is worthwhile to explore other possibilities. Farming is one such possibility. It has worked well in some cases (crocodiles and kangaroos in Australia) and not at all in others (crocodiles in China and Thailand).
Will farming of a particular species be economically viable? Opponents of the proposition maintain that it will always be cheaper to hunt wild species, for which essentially there is no maintenance cost to the user. However, there are many species with fairly low maintenance costs. Farming has many other advantages such as quality control, constancy of supply, quantity of supply, which put the farmer at an economic advantage. In fact, with captive stock in hand, the farmer will frequently be able to outcompete a wild product. Given the increase in global environmental awareness, there may even be greater demand for farm-labelled products. So, on economic considerations alone, one cannot argue against farming of wildlife. However, a more important consideration is that while farming may generate millions of dollars (as a certain tiger farm in Thailand apparently does), how does one ensure that this money is channelled back into the conservation of the wild population of the species. Ranching, for example, links the health of the wild population to commercial benefits and hence provides motivation and incentive to the user to ensure the survival of the species in the wild.
Second, who is to be the beneficiary of farming? If it is open to private businessmen (or say, multi-nationals), then the ‘poacher’ has no motivation to discontinue ‘use’ or ‘poaching’. Benefits of farming must therefore go to those who are closest — both geographically and culturally — to the resource, and to those who would risk hunting wild populations illegally in order to improve their economic status. The economic question is tied closely to livelihoods, education and empowerment of local communities. Hence the question must be reframed as ‘Would farming help conservation if local communities benefited from it, and were responsible for their own resource?’
Many conservationists in India are today opposed to wildlife use when its beneficiary is the poor local community. Their stand derives from a strongly protectionist philosophy. To be fair, protected areas are the reason for intact habitats and populations of many wild animals. However, with their focus principally on large mammals and their habitats, they are not and cannot be the sole method of conservation. And, the idea that humans must under all circumstances be separated from wildlife is a very elitist one. Why should local communities alone pay for for protecting the environment?
As biologists and conservationists, we need to be very careful while defining our stand on use and farming of wild animals. Our operating principle should be that the economic benefits of using species should be linked to the conservation of wild populations and their habitats. Suppose, as a compromise between positions, we recommend farming/use only in the following cases: when it benefits an economically deprived community; it leads to their economic and social empowerment, and better education (including environmental); the farming/use of the taxon is biologically/economically viable; general guidelines with regard to animal care can be followed; and the benefits can be used to improve conservation of the species in the wild. Would this or a similar set of caveats be an acceptable framework within which to use farming as a conservation tool? Obviously, what might work with some species, and in some areas, might not work for others because a diverse people would be involved. We should therefore be open to a variety of strategies, and use success as the ultimate measure.
