Natural places provide cultural benefits to people that conservationists can harness to safeguard important sites and species.
By: James Lowen
At Lagoa do Peixe National Park, a fleet of Red Knot (Calidris canutus) are scurrying along the shimmering sands of an extensive beach that opens onto the Atlantic Ocean. The migratory shorebirds are not the only fans of this national park in Rio Grande do Sul, Brazil. It is also important for local livelihoods and attracts numerous visitors from nearby towns. “The birds bring life to the park,” local craftsman and tour guide Eloir Silva shared in a celebration of the 2021 World Migratory Bird Day. “And the park brings life to this region.”
Silva’s perspective is far from unique. A survey conducted by SAVE Brasil found that 92% of local people considered Lagoa do Peixe important for their quality of life. “Lagoa do Peixe is beautiful. It belongs to nature. It should stay that way. I don’t want them to touch it,” one interviewee commented. ‘Them’ refers to government authorities seeking to downgrade the park’s protection on the basis that the park does not have value and would serve the community better with less protection.
People were thirty-five times more likely to visit Lagoa do Peixe for ‘fun’ than for nature and it is this very connection to the place that matters to conservationists. The national park provides a natural space in which local residents can walk, exercise, play, have fun, perhaps notice wildlife. Traditions and cultural identity are often connected to these natural spaces. And so conservation is not just for biodiversity sake, but for communities.
Left: Teachers worked with their students to develop artwork to highlight the importance of Lagoa do Peixe National Park, Brazil for their community. Photo: Raquel Carvalho. Right: Teacher training workshops near the Lagoa do Peixe WHSRN site have provided skills and resources for teachers to increase passion for the site with lessons in shorebirds, migration and ecosystem services. Photo: Laura Chamberlin.
It is a truism that money makes our modern world go round. Accordingly, the value of an ecosystem can be measured by its ‘ecosystem services’ – defined by the United Nations-commissioned Millennium Ecosystem Assessment as “the benefits people derive from ecosystems” – to provide an economic rationale that persuades governments, companies and others to safeguard nature. The monetary value of services such as use of raw materials for shelter, use of wildlife for food, water filtration by wetlands, and carbon storage with forests can be calculated. These valuations allow decision-makers to define what is most beneficial from an economic perspective when assessing proposed changes that would affect ecosystem services.
But what about the intangible benefits like cultural identity. Ecosystem services also include cultural benefits, the non-materials benefits of an ecosystem. Manomet’s Isadora Angarita-Martínez explains that “cultural services are the most complex to evaluate from a monetary or economic perspective because they depend on the perception each person has of the service involved. The value varies from person to person, so it is difficult to measure.” While it can be a challenge to define an economic value for cultural benefits, these benefits cannot be dismissed. Many of nature’s services are essential because they make human life possible, but it is cultural benefits that make life worth living.
Natural heritage provides spiritual experiences and a sense of place or belonging, which can be integral to cultural identity. Spiritual values ascribed to forests and wetlands have long inspired indigenous communities for who conservation and stewardship are integrated into their daily life. Indigenous communities live in more than one-third of the planet’s protected areas and, tellingly, the Intergovernmental Science-Policy Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services (IPBES) says, these areas are deteriorating less rapidly than land elsewhere. Accordingly, “devolving control or resource management to indigenous communities can produce better outcomes for conservation and ecosystem-service provision” than private management or even strict protection.
“The birds bring life to the park, and the park brings life to this region.”
– Eloir Silva, craftsman and tour guide in Rio Grande do Sul.
The IPBES observes that indigenous-led education campaigns often differ from Western approaches by “promoting… the intrinsic values of nature, and acknowledging its spiritual dimension”, while their environmental narratives “often build on philosophical concepts such as the mutual reciprocity between humans and nature, lack of a nature-culture divide, and powerful stewardship ethics”.
There is also bountiful evidence that nature-based recreation plays an important role in maintaining physical and mental health. According to the American Psychologists’ Association, exposure to nature is robustly linked to improved attention, lower stress, better mood and reduced risk of psychiatric disorders. Contact with nature perks up tired brains: students who gazed at a flowering green roof for just 40 seconds midway through a task made significantly fewer mistakes than those who looked at a concrete roof. These health benefits could be considered as compelling as tourism dollars from nature-based recreation that are commonly promoted as a benefit of conservation.
WHSRN is alive to this cultural dimension to conservation. “Cultural benefits are generally deeply rooted in communities that live near or depend on important sites for biodiversity”, Angarita-Martínez explains. “Such connection, identification with the site, and sense of pride can be used as complementary arguments for the conservation of the site.”
The coastal wetland, Curaco de Vélez, Chile is home for shorebirds and the backyard for local community. Photo: Fundación Conservación Marina.
You might think that the world’s increasing urbanization – half the world population now lives in cities – might sever the cultural connections people have with natural places, a phenomenon known as ‘nature-deficit disorder’. Yet a 2003 study of six US states found that the more affluent, educated and urban-dwelling a population, the more likely they were to want to safeguard wildlife. In 2005, academic James Miller argued that ecologists should invest in improving prospects for biodiversity in cities because these are “the very places that have the greatest potential for reconnecting people to the natural world”. Reconnection was critical, he continued, because “evidence shows that people who establish personal connections with natural areas are more highly motivated to protect them”.
In the light of Miller’s advice, experiences at urban-fringe WHSRN sites provide cause for optimism. Near Río Grande city in southern Argentina, the Reserva Costa Atlántica de Tierra del Fuego supports a high concentration of migratory shorebirds such as Red Knot and Hudsonian Godwit. It is also favoured by local dog-walkers. Nearly all people interviewed by conservationists felt that the reserve was important for both “quality of life” and “to see wildlife”. That visitors recognised both sets of benefits offered local environmentalists “a great opportunity to develop a positive message of care and respect for something that is shared, of which we are proud: our beach, our birds, our Atlantic Coast Reserve”.
If those Red Knots fly a few hours north, they reach Río Gallegos. Here local people told WHSRN partner Asociación Ambiente Sur that they largely visited the city’s urban nature reserve because contact with nature improved their wellbeing. They recognised that controlling dogs and removing garbage would help both family recreation and shorebird conservation. Such public views informed a social-marketing campaign that sought to reduce disturbance and advocate for wildlife zoning, but would also have consideration for this community benefits as well.
On their northbound migration Red Knots will stop to refuel at the Delaware Bay (USA) WHSRN Site. Here, local communities support shorebird conservation by rescuing stranded help horseshoe crabs as part of the reTURN the Favor program. In 2021, hundreds of volunteers devoted 2,605 hours to save 152,692 crabs trapped in rubble or flipped over by waves, volunteers enabled them to lay eggs that, in turn, provide vital sustenance for northward-bound Knot.
One volunteer, Peter Manzelmann, joined reTURN the Favor to “do something adventurous, exciting and real to help the environment”. But helping crabs, birds and Delaware Bay also provides Peter with a deeper meaning – one bound up with his cultural identity. “If we lose these birds,” he says, “we lose both a part of ourselves and our own journey for survival”. Devoting nights to saving crabs integrates Peter with both his local environment (he feels “at one with these ancient creatures, the birds, the rising sun”) and the crab-protecting community (“there is a joy, a closeness and a purpose that we all feel as a result of our intentions and actions to save our breathing but struggling planet”). And it’s not just a personal thing. The former teacher is particularly proud of opening children’s eyes to natural wonders. “To have a kid skip down the beach saying they love horseshoe crabs and that they love being outside is a joy to hear. For us it is planting the seed to help our earth.”
Because changing peoples’ attitudes towards wildlife takes time – generations even, according to researchers such as Michael Manfredo – environmental educators have typically focused on winning the hearts of children. This is good, for childhood is when an individual’s values are formed. But focusing on children may mean missing out on harnessing communities’ already positive attitudes towards important sites.
The minimally developed Delaware Bay beaches are enjoyed year-round by beachcombers, fishers, and dog walkers, but in May and June they provide a essential cultural identify when the horseshoe crabs and shorebirds are visiting. Photo: Laura Chamberlin
If local people love a place for its recreational opportunities or for its contribution to cultural identity, and if this connection inspires them to fight to preserve it, then conservationists have found a powerful ally.
“Conservationists do not yet make sufficient use of cultural benefits for biodiversity conservation,” Angarita-Martínez admits. “People’s appreciation of a site can be used to demonstrate what would happen to their experience and, in many cases, to their identity as a community, if the site were to change as a result of a threat. But if we increase our understanding of these intrinsic values we can build together with local communities the arguments for conservation using cultural benefits”. In turn, she continues, this “increases the probability of conservation actions succeeding”.
Manfredo may have called it right nearly 20 years ago when arguing that “the success of conservation efforts will depend upon compatibility with cultural values”. If local people love a place for its recreational opportunities or for its contribution to cultural identity, and if this connection inspires them to fight to preserve it, then conservationists have found a powerful ally.
At the time of writing, the proposal to remove national park status at Lagoa do Peixe is currently on ice, so it remains to be seen if the nature-driven cultural benefits that are evident in the community will be able to safeguard biodiversity. SAVE Brasil continues to highlight the cultural benefits that the surrounding community has named to inspire action to protect the park. After all, isn’t it as important to save the site for the Hudsonian Godwits, Red Knots or other shorebirds, but also for the life that it gives humans?
Cover Photo: A scenic view at Willapa Bay WHSRN Site. Photo: Monica Iglecia
