Dear conservationist, I’m sorry that you work in such a dishonest industry

Dear Conservationist,

I liked writing to you in an open letter during my last blog, and so I will continue to write to you in this style. To be honest with you, this style of writing ever-so-slightly mitigates a fear that I feel that I may be punished for speaking my truth in the conservation industry- I mean, Dianne Fossey was shot for her conservation advocacy, so you never know what may happen. It is also hard in this space to claim to be an expert on anything, especially as I am someone who floats about outside of the world of academia. Between the impostor syndrome and the amount that regular folk like to ignore the desperate pleas of climate scientists, speaking as a topic expert is daunting. But in a letter, I can hide behind the notion that these are just musings plucked out of my brain and lovingly handed to you, and you can decide their value as you see fit.

As you can tell by the tone of my first paragraph, being honest and authentic in the conservation industry is scary, and I can promise you that I am not the only one who senses the fear that dissipates throughout all corners of the industry. Many individuals who have shared their stories over on Lonely Conservationists have opted not to use their real names or attach any evidence of their identities for fear of the repercussions to their careers. This is truly heartbreaking considering that all of the individuals who have talked about their experience dealing with chronic illness in the industry have hidden their identity in fear of being perceived as not able to work jobs and as a result, never being hired again.

This fear also extends to our hesitation to publicly warn others or even just talk about the jobs that have severely impacted our mental and or physical health. I will happily let other conservationists know which organisations have wronged me in person, but I don’t think I have ever seen an individual publicly name and shame. Let’s be honest, without a union backing us up or some kind of governing structure that advocates for career conservationists, we are left vulnerable and alone after butting heads with an organisation. The lack of support, combined with the damage done by the organisation can leave us vulnerable and too exhausted to fight anymore. This exhaustion is important to note, as paid jobs are so hard to come by and reputable job titles are often worn as a badge of honour. As a result, conservationists will often fight to stay in a position, enduring more than others might, only to leave a position as a husk of their former selves. Oftentimes, conservationists don’t have the energy or mental capacity to even see the name of their former employer again, let alone deal with the risk of inducing any prolonged drama or interactions with them.

The stories that I have mentioned so far are examples of dishonesty as a result of fear- but what about dishonesty that is driven by protection? Many years ago, when I lived in a purposely vague and unnamed country, I was privileged to see footage of baby rhinos on some camera traps. I was warned that this information could not be celebrated, nor could the conservation efforts of this area be published as any one single mention of these rhinos could guarantee choppers flying in from neighbouring countries, piloted by individuals who would love to find them and grotesquely steal their horns. In some cases, conservation efforts can be much more successful than organisations let on, and this could be for the sake of protecting species, but let’s face it, it could also be a ploy to exploit donors.

Throughout my career, I have heard stories of conservation NGOs twisting the narratives of species or ecosystems to seem more dire than they actually are in the pursuit of soliciting more (and possibly larger) empathetic donations from the public. Now, this narrative alteration often goes un-detected as we are used to the story that everything in our natural world is just holding on by a thread. All you need is one photo of an aesthetic animal in a devastating situation to sell your story of despair and travesty to activate the hearts, minds and wallets of the public.

Not only does this narrative spin a sadder-than-necessary story, but this notion of endless turmoil perpetuates the notion that the efforts of many teams of dedicated conservationists are having little to no impact on the survival of the species or ecosystem at hand, even after years of fighting. This gives conservationists even more reasons to feel undervalued in their roles and may cause false stereotypes about their work to become everpresent within society. I understand that baby orangutans get a lot of donations when they are photographed alone in the decimated remains of a forest. Although deforestation is still happening, it may be more hopeful for donors to see how many hectares of forest they have helped to restore or how many people have been employed to patrol restored sites. Despair fatigue is real, and too much devastation can breed apathy among the public and potentially prevent investment, both physical and financial, in other worthy conservation initiatives.

Dishonesty can also be found in conservation campaigns, not from amping up the sadness, but as a result of misrepresentation of the truth. As an example, many years ago I noticed an NGO calling on the public in a campaign to stop the senseless culling of elephants. As usual, the truth behind the culling was more nuanced and required a bit more education to understand. In this case, the elephant populations had grown to be too large for their small national park that was bound by human sprawl. If you know anything about wildlife, you probably know that boxing animals into a space smaller than their environmental requirements leads to overcrowding, disease, habitat decimation, ecosystem imbalance, and the prevention of normal behaviours, such as migration. Impacts to both humans and elephants would also occur with heightened human-elephant interaction due to the close proximity. Yes, I agree that culling elephants is not fair considering the vast human growth that landed them in that predicament- however, the campaign made it seem that it was just senseless murder for the sake of it and not for ecologically considered reasons. I rarely write about actual conservation issues, because they often garner a lot of opinions and I can never say everything that needs to be said (despite having written a thesis on elephant ecology)- but please note that there is a whole other conversation here about the detrimental implications of translocation on individual animals. All of this to say, a fairer campaign from this NGO would be a plea for humans to stop encroaching on elephant land.

Another form of dishonesty is the type that we see as a result of an individual’s desire for accolades and opportunities. Many times in the conservation industry, I have seen individuals make detrimental decisions for wildlife and ecosystems for the benefit of their own career and media opportunities. The unfortunate consequence of these dishonest moments is that the exact media opportunities that may celebrate an individual’s incredible work in the conservation space are often times when conservation values have been put to the side. An example of this would be releasing wildlife into an unsuitable environment, just to work around the schedules of the media company that will be showcasing your work, leading to an unnecessary and early mortality of the released animals.

I have also seen people showcase dishonesty for social media opportunities. I once spent a few weeks volunteering in an organisation that rehabilitated wildlife that had been impacted by the tourism trade, including looking after a paraplegic tiger that could only move with the support of two men when suspended in water. Despite volunteering at this organisation and receiving a world of information about the way animals are treated in the tourism trade, and personally working with the damaged animals who suffered at its hands, a volunteer still went to a tiger temple to have their photo with a drugged tiger for the Facebook photo afterwards. Yes, this individual was honest about their intentions, but all of the people who saw the photo would be hidden from the truth of the tiger’s experience of living in these conditions.

So, dear conservationist, I must admit that I regularly grapple with how I may be perpetuating dishonesty within the conservation industry, often to protect myself and often to protect wildlife. Despite this, since starting Lonely Conservationists and seeing the good that authenticity and honesty can do for the industry, I have endeavoured to put myself out of my comfort zone in pursuit of contributing more honesty to this space. I think that at the moment, the industry is slow to change because we are used to the comfort of dishonesty. We are used to silently suffering and employers are used to exploitation. We are used to hiding the nuance from the public because it is challenging to effectively communicate the truth. We are used to putting up with conservationists who aren’t really, because many lurk among us. As a final piece of honesty, I will admit that I think people who call themselves animal lovers rather than conservationists are the people who are prioritising selfies over genuine animal welfare.

I hope to continue to use this space as a vessel for honesty, advocacy and support for the plight of conservationists so that I can at least try to make this industry a more authentic space to live and work in.

Honestly yours,

Jessie