Commodification Is Not Conservation

An increasingly popular argument being made by conservationists is that the legal, controlled commodification of threatened and endangered wildlife could provide the incentive and funding required for conservation efforts. Be it the sale of stockpiled ivory and farmed tiger bones, the culling and collection of anacondas, or the hunting of apex predators, species nearing extinction are increasingly being viewed in terms of their economic value as the black market for live animals or their parts soars. But does placing monetary value on the head (or gallbladder) of a given animal truly incentivize conservation, or does it oversimplify the challenges facing imperiled species in pursuit of profiteering before extinction?

Recently, we have repeatedly seen a phenomenon of species that are virtually extinct in the wild, but abundant and commercially exploited in captivity. Though it appears superficially as though we have ample captive stock to avoid extinction, the commodification of species has created changes in the captive pool that challenge this assumption. The transition from captive populations for the sake of reproduction and reintroduction to captive populations for the sake of novelty and profit is posing a unique problem: we may well have thousands of individuals of a declining species in captivity, but only a small handful have the genetic health and purity essential to a reintroduction program. More importantly, captive breeding (which does not tend to have long term sustainability) addresses only a tiny portion of greater problems facing wildlife that must first be rectified for successful conservation to occur, which include but are not limited to habitat loss, poaching, pollution, and competition with feral and invasive species.

There are presently more tigers in the US alone than there are tigers (all sub-species combined) in the wild. Of animals held in zoos, circuses, wildlife parks, private hands, and yes, even canned hunts, proponents of the captive tiger trade often tout conservation as justification for the interment and use of these wild animals, noting that people will want to save tigers if they have monetary value. Yet as captive populations boom globally, wild populations continue to spiral downwards at an alarming rate.

Conservation, in this case, is being misconstrued; private captive ownership does not alter course for wild populations, which are ultimately what must be conserved to do true justice to the word from an ecological perspective. Simply enough, an infinite number of captive tigers will not change the fact that wild tigers are suffering from the results of habitat loss, declining biodiversity, shrinking gene pools, disease, and poaching. Even zoos with captive breeding & reintroduction programs are fruitless if there is no safe, stable habitat to reintroduce animals into. This, combined with the fact that the majority of tigers in the captive trade are hybrids, domesticated color morphs, or dangerously inbred reflects an important point: making wildlife into a popular product does not ensure their conservation in the wild, and may not even promote practices that bode well for the future of captive populations.

In fact, the illegal trade in organs, bone, and hides from captive tigers may be adding fuel to the fire of poaching. While some officials suggest that open, legal trade in products made from captive tigers could remove the incentives to poach by lowering the cost of expensive black-market items while simultaneously generating funding for habitat conservation, it could just as easily result in a higher demand as those who would not normally support black-market practices embrace legal, guilt-free tiger products. Given the near impossibility of accurately tracking the source of parts, the latter seems a more likely long-term result.

Parrots, too, are a fine example of how the "capital for conservation" theory fails when it comes to reducing poaching and creating meaningful steps towards conservation via consumer demand. The most obvious problem is that the sale of parrots does not in any way fund habitat conservation; like other animal industries, it only perpetuates captive breeding with no emphasis on protecting parrots in the wild. Certainly some private avicultural enthusiast organizations may help support and fund habitat conservation or research, but the average parrot sourced from a pet store puts money only in the pockets of the captive bird trade.

Additionally, though the importation of wild caught parrots has been banned in many countries and the market is very literally flooded with birds, a strong black market still exists. (Ironically, poaching has been known to cater to the very individuals breeding the animals for sale in captivity, as wild lines are periodically required to replenish the genetic health of captive ones.) The value in parrots despite their abundance in captivity has not declined significantly enough to make remove financial incentives for poaching; wild caught birds can be purchased for fewer than $25 then sold illegally for hundreds or even thousands of dollars because the market value of parrots has remained high even with thousands of birds abandoned annually by their owners. People are willing to pay big for parrots because of their perceived economic value, so even a glut in the market keeps the parrot trade - and thus the illegal parrot trade - profitable. Who is to say the same will not result should ivory, bear gall bladders, or tiger bones become a legal product?

Even the humblest of species are not exempt: The axolotl, a salamander native to Mexico, is another prime example of a species' economic value in no way reflecting its conservation priority. The axolotl is extremely popular in laboratory research due to its unique traits, particularly limb regeneration, and is also a common staple of the exotic pet trade. Despite the overwhelming number of axolotls bred in captivity, including a wide range of domesticated color morphs, axolotls are nearing extinction in their native habitat due to pollution and the introduction of invasive fish species. While in the past there had been some reintroduction efforts, urban expansion has all but signed a death warrant for wild populations - and because of the large captive pools, no one seems particularly concerned about the species becoming extinct in the wild. There is still money to be made off of axolotls even if they vanish from the wild, and by viewing them only in terms of money, we remove the motivation to protect wild populations - after all, the axolotl market will still be alive and well long after the animals have vanished from their native habitats.

Thus the message gravitates away from conservation and towards capital, and much as has routinely been the case with any resource, we are apt to find that there is no such thing as conservation and responsible use so long as there is money to be made. Even vital resources such as land, water, timber, and wild game (especially fish) have all been heavily over-exploited despite widespread knowledge of the steps needed to protect the environment and logical incentives for controlled, responsible use. And much as workers and livestock have been reduced to production units, abused and under-appreciated, so too will be wildlife once it is seen strictly in terms of maximum profit at minimal expense. Capitalism does not open a revolutionary door to bold new methods of wildlife conservation, but instead opens a Pandora's box of heightened exploitation that is apt to have a disastrous effect not only on the direction of conservation policy, but on the individual lives of the animals themselves.

If we allow the future of wild animals to rest on their commercial value and utility, we will inevitably see more species go the way of parrots, tigers, and axolotls. This is because a common demand of any product in a capitalist society is that it be easy (and cost-effective) to obtain, consistent in quality, and readily available on a large scale. Wild populations seldom support these requirements, thus making commercial captive breeding a more profitable option - removing the supposed financial incentive of protecting wild populations while simultaneously promoting exploitation and generating a market that will doubtless be additionally fed by poaching the few remaining members of a species. It cheapens the inherent value of sentient beings as well as marginalizes the importance of wildlife populations in the wild as a key contributor to vital biodiversity. Only when we recognize and appreciate that wildlife has its own intangible worth beyond whatever use we may devise will the matter of conservation be taken seriously. Until then, we should be cautious about plans that appeal to profiteering off of endangered wildlife, as experience has taught us that lives and profits rarely coexist with mutual benefit.