The wisdom of Indigenous conservation

    Indigenous communities possess an invaluable treasure trove of knowledge honed over centuries of close interaction with their environment, from forestry management in the biodiverse climes of the Amazon rainforest to seasonal cycles and sustainable herding practices in the Arctic.

    This knowledge blends cultural heritage with environmental science and offers untapped wisdom into conservation practices that align with the natural world’s rhythms.

    This ancestral knowledge not only provides lifelines for ecosystems on the brink but also demonstrates how healthcare, agriculture and biodiversity can thrive sustainably. In countries like Canada, studies show that Indigenous approaches could even help make healthcare more sustainable

    Risk

    As the climate crisis intensifies, these time-tested knowledge systems present powerful solutions for conserving biodiversity, maintaining ecological health and creating harmony between communities and nature.

    Freshwater ecosystems are in peril. A recent report highlights an alarming trend: nearly a quarter of freshwater species are now threatened with extinction

    Between 1970 and 2015, 35 per cent of wetland areas were lost - disappearing at a rate three times faster than forests. Of the wetlands that remain, 65 per cent are under moderate to high threat. Rivers fare little better, with 37 per cent of rivers over 1,000 km no longer free-flowing.

    Freshwater habitats, though covering less than one per cent of the Earth’s surface, support over 10 per cent of all known species, including one-third of vertebrates and half of all fish. 

    Species such as the critically endangered European eel, Spengler’s freshwater mussels and the smooth stingray are now at risk, to name just a few of the vital species which spur the need for immediate action. 

    Dialogue

    These ecosystems also provide essential services - nutrient cycling, flood control and climate change mitigation. The global significance of these habitats for both human and ecological well-being are immeasurable.

    Despite the critical importance of Indigenous knowledge, its role in conservation has often been undervalued. 

    However, last year’s COP16 summit, held in Cali, Colombia, in November 2024, marked a momentous turning point. Delegates agreed to establish a subsidiary body to ensure the participation of Indigenous Peoples in global biodiversity discussions, strengthening inclusivity and much-needed collaboration.

    Despite the critical importance of Indigenous knowledge, its role in conservation has often been undervalued. 

    This decision builds on the 2022 accord in Montreal, which included measures to protect 30 per cent of the planet’s land and ecosystems by 2030. 

    “It strengthens representation, coordination and inclusive decision-making, creating a space for dialogue,” comments Sushil Raj, executive director of the rights and communities global program at the Wildlife Conservation Society.

    Communities

    As freshwater ecosystems face mounting threats, the integration of Indigenous knowledge systems into global policy could be key to reversing the damage. From the sweeping heights of the Andes, to the barren beauty of the Arctic tundra, examples of their success at play are evident worldwide.

    Nestled high in the Andes mountains between Peru and Bolivia, Lake Titicaca is both a cultural treasure and a freshwater ecosystem teetering on the edge of crisis. 

    For the Aymara people, this sacred lake has sustained their way of life for centuries. They have practiced sustainable fishing and water management, balancing biodiversity with agriculture and community needs.

    However, severe pollution from tourism, industrial runoff and habitat degradation has placed the lake and its species - like the endemic Titicaca water frog - at risk. Toxic levels of mercury and lead now jeopardise both human and aquatic life.

    In response, Indigenous women from the Aymara and Quechua communities have spearheaded an inspiring conservation movement

    Harvest

    The “Women United for Water Network of Lake Titicaca” empowers women to take charge of preserving their water supply. Armed with a $33,000 grant from the Canadian Embassy to Peru and Bolivia, 86 Indigenous women have been trained in water monitoring techniques using pH monitors, drones and other tools.

    By leading water quality monitoring campaigns and advocating for sustainability at both local and national levels, these women are not only protecting their sacred lake but also dismantling gender barriers. 

    Their collaborative efforts with conservationists and decision-makers prove that Indigenous knowledge and leadership are critical to securing the future of Lake Titicaca.

    In the stark, beautiful Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, the Gwich’in people of Alaska and Canada have maintained a harmonious relationship with their environment for thousands of years. Their lives are deeply intertwined with the Porcupine Caribou herd, which migrates through the refuge’s coastal plain each year to calve.

    The Iñupiat people rely on the bounty of the sea instead of caribou. Their most important resource is the bowhead whale. When a whale is killed, the entire Iñupiat community gathers to harvest and divide the meat. Whale hunting is central to Iñupiat culture today, as it has been for countless generations.

    Groundbreaking

    For the Gwich’in, caribou are more than just a food source - they are cultural, spiritual and ecological lifelines. Every part of the animal is used, from the hide for clothing to sinew for fishnets, ensuring that hunting remains sustainable and waste-free.

    However, the caribou’s calving grounds face constant threats from oil drilling and infrastructure development, which threatens to disrupt the delicate balance of this ecosystem. For the Gwich’in, protecting the refuge is not only about biodiversity - it’s the fight for survival and preserving their way of life.

    Despite decades of political battles, the Gwich’in have remained steadfast in their fight to safeguard the refuge. Their deep knowledge of the land has been instrumental in advocating for policies that protect both caribou and the fragile freshwater ecosystems that sustain them. 

    The work of the Gwich'in serves as a reminder of how Indigenous practices, rooted in respect for nature, can offer invaluable lessons in conservation.

    In New Zealand, the Māori people have long regarded freshwater ecosystems as taonga (treasures) deeply connected to their identity. Their traditional ecological knowledge, or mātauranga Māori, prioritises the health and restoration of rivers, lakes and wetlands. Perhaps one of the most groundbreaking examples of Indigenous-led conservation hails from the Whanganui River (Te Awa Tupua). 

    Integrating

    After British colonials arrived in New Zealand in the 1800s, industrialisation of the Whanganui River began. Long treasured by generations of Indigenous Māori, over time the river became polluted by increased land clearances and litter. The sacred water source of the Māori was under threat. 

    The river begins its journey from the snowy climes of the Mount Tongariro volcano, travelling a 180 mile (290 km) stretch through the luscious New Zealand countryside until it meets the open plains of the Tasman Sea. 

    Revered for centuries by locals, the Whanganui tribes adopt their namesake, spirit and even strength from its waters. In fact, in 2017, it became the first river in the world to be recognised as a legal person, closing the chapter on one of New Zealand’s longest court cases.

    Through this legal framework, the Māori and the New Zealand government now co-manage the river’s health, blending traditional practices with modern science, the ruling inspiring similar action for other environments across the globe, encouraging other communities to advocate for their own sacred spaces. 

    As we face growing threats to freshwater species and habitats worldwide, integrating Indigenous knowledge with modern science presents an unparalleled opportunity for change and growth.

    Connection

    In the Amazon, Indigenous knowledge about fish migration patterns has informed genetic research to protect biodiversity. Meanwhile, in Australia’s Northern Territory, Indigenous groups use drones and traditional observation methods to monitor water levels and maintain ecosystem health.

    recent report  identifies three underlying causes of the biodiversity crisis: inequitable power and wealth distribution, the prioritisation of short-term gains, and ultimately, a disconnection from nature. The report states that Indigenous people, who hold tenure rights to around 40% of protected areas and ecologically intact landscapes across 87 countries, are key figures for progress. 

    By conserving areas of value using sustainable stewardship, targeting high-value areas already stewarded by indigenous communities and combating corruption through inclusive governance, we can create long-term change. Meanwhile, systemic changes in agriculture, fishing, mining and farming can curb biodiversity loss. 

    “Science shows that our lands often house more species and have lower rates of deforestation and degradation than lands managed by public or private entities, and can be far less costly to protect,” said Dinamam Tuxá of the Articulation of the Indigenous Peoples of Brazil (APIB). Studies indicate that Indigenous land rights are key to habitat restoration and eliminating deforestation in Brazil.

    The inclusion of indigenous communities in planning is a must for effective conservation. The report highlights that by shifting priorities in economic and financial systems, even adapting metrics of success to prioritise nature and social equity can address considerable funding gaps, strengthening the human-nature connection that we are working so hard to destroy.

    This Author

    Maddy Smith is a freelance journalist with a passion for environmental issues and sustainable urban development.