Fuelled by blockbuster documentaries and engaging social media images, wildlife tourism is booming. However, many conservationists fear poor regulation and management is putting undue pressure on the animals and even placing tourists at risk
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I’d been in Tanzania for nearly four weeks before I saw an elephant. It was digging through the rubbish heap next to our campsite on the rim of the Ngorongoro Crater, a vast volcanic caldera home to some 25,000 large African mammals, including all of the ‘Big Five’: lion, rhinoceros, leopard, elephant and Cape buffalo. It was August 2006 and the campsite was busy; some time later, the elephant would be spotted rifling through several tents, attracted by the smell of food. The following morning, we joined the throng of vehicles on the road into the crater itself, where we were bussed from one animal sighting to the next, congregating in groups around a family of hyenas or a lone buffalo, submerged up to its neck in mud.
Since 2006, the annual number of tourists visiting Ngorongoro Crater has increased from just over 350,000 to more than 700,000 in 2019. During the peak season (June–August), an estimated 250 vehicles enter the crater every day. The crowds of vehicles cause noise pollution, habitat degradation and poor visibility as tyres churn up dust clouds, which in turn leads guides to illegally drive off-road to get a better view. In some instances, there have been collisions with animals.
Similar scenarios have been reported worldwide, from the plains of Yellowstone National Park, where tourists pose dangerously close to wild bison for selfies, to the coastal waters of Sri Lanka, where unlicensed boat tours swarm the resident blue whales. In June, India Forest Service senior officer Susanta Nanda shared a video on social media that showed tens of tourist-packed vehicles trailing just metres behind a tiger in an Indian reserve.
Although it’s difficult to calculate the economic impact of wildlife tourism due to a lack of reliable global data, the World Travel and Tourism Council puts its annual contribution to the global economy at an estimated US$343 billion. In low-income, biodiversity-rich economies, the money earned from animal attractions can dominate regional and national tourism revenues. As such, in some places, wildlife tourism has grown uncontrolled.
Valuable wildlife
In Uganda, tourism has ballooned from 205,000 visitors in 2001 to 1.5 million in 2018. In Bwindi Forest National Park in the country’s southwest, tourist visits to a single gorilla family can generate between US$5,000 and US$7,500 per day. In 2018–19, the Uganda Wildlife Authority declared that the overall revenue from ecotourism and gorilla trekking was more than US$25 million. Worldwide, wildlife tourism is believed to generate roughly five times more revenue than the illegal wildlife trade.
A few years ago, Kenyan authorities nominated the Masai Mara National Reserve for inclusion on the list of UNESCO World Heritage sites. The Masai Mara belongs to the same ecosystem as the Serengeti National Park in neighbouring Tanzania, which has been classed as a World Heritage site since 1981. Jonathan Scott, a wildlife photographer who has spent the last four decades documenting the lives of Kenya’s big cats, says that the potential to boost wildlife tourism in the area was a significant factor in the decision to apply. ‘The first thing the cabinet secretary for tourism said was, “This will allow us to double the number of visitors.” I thought, “Oh my God no, that’s really not what we want”.’
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Despite recognition of its ‘outstanding universal value’, the Masai Mara doesn’t qualify for the same status as the Serengeti. Among a list of failings – including poaching and agricultural expansion – UNESCO cites a proliferation of resource-intensive tourism accommodation, rampant off-track driving and the chronic harassment of animals. Scott describes the reserve as ‘a big mess’ of too many camps, lodges and vehicles. ‘It’s horrendous,’ he says, ‘and everybody knows it.’
‘It’s not the fault of the visitors themselves,’ Scott continues, adding that industry greed and corruption have led to the overcrowding that’s now having a negative impact on both the wildlife and environment in the Masai Mara. ‘I’m constantly getting messages from guides saying, “I’ve just been in the Mara and my clients were horrified. Never again, they said.” Unfortunately, some people in our industry don’t care about repeat clients – there’s always going to be a demand for safaris.’
The first safaris
‘Safari’, a Swahili word of Arabic origin (‘safara’ – to discover, to journey), first appeared in English text in 1859, in an article written by British explorer Richard Burton and published in the Journal of the Royal Geographical Society of London. Over time, it became the chosen name for the sport-hunting expeditions that were popularised by the wealthy European and American elite, such as US president Theodore Roosevelt, whose year-long safari through East and Central Africa in 1909–10 culminated in the shooting or trapping of more than 11,000 animals. The first dedicated safari company, Newland, Tarlton & Co, set up shop in Nairobi in 1905 and, in the years that followed, East Africa was transformed from a largely unknown land into a world-leading destination for wildlife tourism.
Scott acknowledges his own responsibility, as a photographer, in driving this demand. ‘The fact is, we’re opening people’s eyes to the possibilities of what they might see,’ he says. ‘But whereas we’ll spend three months making a 50-minute television programme, tourists will come for just a few days. Their expectations of a safari are driven way beyond the most likely scenario, no matter whether they’re looking for jaguars in Brazil, mountain lions in Chile, or leopards in Kenya.’
‘It’s a huge issue,’ agrees Dylan Walker, an expert in wildlife tourism and former CEO of the World Cetacean Alliance. ‘It’s difficult for wildlife-tourism businesses. They’re selling a product, they’ve got competitors. It’s really hard to resist putting your closest, most amazing shot of a lion or a humpback whale on the front cover of your brochure. But if that image shows something that only happens once a year, 99 per cent of your customers are not going to see it.’ Instead, Walker says that businesses should present tourists with a clear picture of what they can expect to see during a typical wildlife-watching experience. ‘That should be good enough. If it’s not, then it’s simply not a good product from the start.’
Like Scott, Walker also points the finger at wildlife filmmakers for not disclosing how they achieve certain shots, for not mentioning the film licences, government approvals and months spent on location that go into making a single wildlife photograph or video that goes viral on social media. ‘It’s completely unacceptable that in the ten minutes at the end of a big show, when the cameraperson is talking about what they are doing and how they made the film happen, they don’t say, “This is not something that everyone can see or do;” that they don’t mention how careful they have to be to minimise their own impact.’
Walker would like to see filmmakers tackle more of the issues facing wildlife. But more than that, he wants to see more about the solutions. And he’s not alone in thinking that wildlife filmmaking needs to change. At the 2022 Wildscreen Festival, Mandi Stark, a wildlife filmmaker and creator of the podcast Natural Wanders – the Plodcast, said that natural history television was failing in its responsibilities. ‘It’s not enough,’ she said, ‘to simply put beautiful images on-screen with accompanying words saying, “Unless we do something, all this will be lost.”’
One of the key challenges facing responsible animal tourism lies in educating tourists to understand exactly which activities contribute to conservation and which fall at the other end of the spectrum. A 2015 wildlife tourism study from the University of Oxford’s Wildlife Conservation Research Unit found that at 24 wildlife tourist attractions the researchers investigated worldwide, 80 per cent of tourists ‘did not recognise and/or respond to negative welfare impacts’.
In recent years, a number of studies have detailed the impacts that wildlife tourism can have on a variety of animals. Asian rhinoceros feed less when tourists are nearby, while interactions with humans (such as feeding or swimming) affect the survival rates of juvenile dolphins in Australia and New Zealand. In Madikwe Game Reserve in South Africa, researchers from Liverpool John Moores University found that elephants were more likely to be aggressive towards other elephants in the months when tourist numbers in the park were high. Yet the negative impacts of wildlife tourism are often outweighed – some scientists say – by the industry’s financial contribution to conservation. No-one argues this more enthusiastically than the proponents of trophy hunting.
Fortress conservation
In East Africa, conservation and leisure seem inextricably linked. After years of exploiting the land and its wildlife, colonial settlers in the region realised that overhunting was driving African game species to extinction. In response, they established Kenya’s first national parks and reserves, where Western tourism businesses continued to run safaris and developed privately owned ranches and ‘conservancies’. Land traditionally belonging to Kenyans was targeted for the creation of new protected areas, forcing entire populations from their homes and outlawing traditional subsistence hunting, which alienated the local people from the wildlife upon which they had once relied. Today, large tracts of land in Kenya are still owned by wealthy Europeans and Americans, including billionaire Richard Branson, and more than 30 conservancies, covering 11 per cent of the country’s land area – more than 63,000 square kilometres – host luxury hotels and safari lodges.
In 2019, 133 scientists, including faculty members of Oxford’s Wildlife Conservation Research Unit, wrote an open letter to Science arguing that ongoing high-profile campaigns to ban trophy hunting posed a significant risk to the safeguarding of both land and biodiversity. It’s a concern often repeated by conservationists and responsible tourism advocates alike and, as a result, I’ve long believed trophy hunting to be a necessary evil for wildlife conservation. When I mention this to Will Travers, the executive president of the Born Free Foundation, he takes great exception to the idea. ‘There is no such a thing as a “necessary evil”. Evil is not necessary. It’s not acceptable and we can do so much better.’
The Born Free Foundation’s stance on trophy hunting is one of firm opposition. Mark Jones, a veterinarian and head of policy at the foundation, says that the welfare of animals targeted by trophy hunters is commonly overlooked in the debate about its benefits to conservation. In most circumstances where animals are deliberately killed (for food, for example), there are rules and regulations that dictate how this should be done to minimise negative animal-welfare impacts. ‘No such rules apply to trophy hunting,’ says Jones. ‘In fact, trophy hunters are pretty much free – encouraged even – to target the animals in any way they wish. Organisations such as Safari Club International and the Dallas Safari Club give out awards to hunters who use methods like bows and arrows and crossbows, which clearly don’t prioritise the welfare of the animal.’
Moreover, Jones says that the conservation claims touted by trophy hunters simply don’t stand up to scrutiny. He points to research revealing that the loss of older, larger males – the animals most commonly targeted by trophy hunters – can have a significant impact on the rest of the population. One study shows that the removal of adult male lions in Hwange National Park in western Zimbabwe increased rates of infanticide as new males took over the pride. Two more highlight that hunting quotas for elephants in Botswana and leopards in South Africa are too high to be sustainable.
Sadly, trophy hunting is far from the only unethical form of wildlife tourism. Along with wildlife-watching experiences such as polar bear safaris and gorilla trekking, the team of researchers at Oxford’s Wildlife Conservation Research Unit also looked into the darkest aspects of wildlife tourism. These attractions include parks where visitors can hold tiger cubs or ride elephants, dolphinaria where captive whales and dolphins are trained to perform for crowds, the so-called dancing bears and monkeys used in street entertainment, and tours of the farms where the bile of Asiatic black bears (a popular traditional medicine in parts of Asia) is harvested.
In September, the UK government passed a new law that bans the advertising or sale of unethical wildlife tourism activities (those that are already illegal in the UK) in England, Wales and Northern Ireland. ‘Obviously, that doesn’t prevent those activities from occurring,’ says Jones. ‘It just prevents companies from advertising them in the UK. But it does set a precedent –one that we hope will start to put pressure on the people who conduct these types of activities.’
At the moment, it’s clear that tourists need greater guidance when it comes to avoiding unethical wildlife-tourism activities. Walker agrees that while discerning individuals have power in the choices they make, the onus should be on those who are generating income from wildlife experiences. ‘I wouldn’t say to somebody buying a package holiday that it’s up to them to know whether a hotel’s health and safety policy is up to standard,’ he says.
As part of their responsibilities, suppliers should communicate to the traveller what responsible tourism is and what it isn’t, but Walker explains that even this can be a challenge. ‘We are talking about some incredibly bespoke situations,’ he says. ‘You really need specialist knowledge to understand whether your activity is having an impact on any particular animal or not.’ That’s going to be difficult for tour operators that offer hundreds of different experiences in different locations with different species, or for operators based in countries with limited resources. That, says Walker, is where Wildlife Heritage Areas come in.
In October, a team of wildlife experts (Walker included) launched the Wildlife Heritage Network – a strategic partnership between local and national governments, specialist NGOs, wildlife experts, responsible travel companies and local communities.
‘Wildlife-watching is a big industry,’ says Walker. ‘There tends to be a lot of stakeholders involved and you’ll often find that they’re not communicating with each other.’ He describes the network as a supportive framework that helps members to design more sustainable, less impactful wildlife experiences. So far, it includes the Night Monkey Heritage Area in Vista Alegre on the Colombia–Peru border, home to the Musmuki night monkey, and the Marsican Bear Heritage Area in Italy, a refuge for the critically endangered Marsican brown bear.
Walker’s hope for Wildlife Heritage Areas is that they act as a clear marker to help the travel industry identify and support sustainable practices, and that they serve as a transparent and easy way for tourists to choose responsible wildlife-watching holiday destinations. ‘I think that anybody involved in responsible wildlife tourism has to accept that it’s almost impossible to reduce our impact on wildlife down to zero,’ he says. ‘And no programme, including this one, is perfect. But our challenge is to think how we can continually work to reduce that impact as much as possible.’