The Geography of Environmental Crime: Conservation, Wildlife Crime and Environmental Activism

By Angus Nurse and Matthew Hall

This book critically examines both theory and practice around conservation crimes. It engages with the full complexity of environmental crimes and different responses to them, including: poaching, conservation as a response to wildlife crime, forest degradation, environmental activism, and the application of scientific and situational crime prevention techniques as preventative tools to deal with green crime. 
Through the contributions of experts from both the social and ecological sciences, the book deals with theoretical and practical considerations that impact on the effectiveness of contemporary environmental criminal justice. It discusses the social construction of green crimes and the varied ways in which poaching and other conservation crimes are perceived, operate and are ideologically driven, as well as practical issues in environmental criminal justice. With contributions based in varied ideological perspectives and drawn from a range of academic disciplines, this volume provides a platform for scholars to debate new ideas about environmental law enforcement, policy, and crime prevention, detection and punishment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palgrave Macmillan
• Release date: Jun 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781137538437

Book preview

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2016

Gary R. Potter, Angus Nurse and Matthew Hall (eds.)The Geography of Environmental CrimePalgrave Studies in Green Criminology10.1057/978-1-137-53843-7_1

1. The Geography of Environmental Crime

Matthew Hall¹ , Angus Nurse², Gary R. Potter³ and Tanya Wyatt⁴

(1)

School of Law, University of Lincoln, Bradford Pool, Lincoln, LN6 7TS, UK

(2)

Department of Criminology and Sociology, School of Law, Middlesex University, The Burroughs, Hendon, NW4 4BT, UK

(3)

Lancaster University Law School, Bowland North, Lancaster University, Lancaster, LA1 4YN, UK

(4)

Department of Social Sciences, Northumbria University, Newcastle, UK

In the twenty-first century, environmental harm is an ever-present reality of our globalised world. Over the last 20 years, criminologists have made great strides in their understanding of how different institutions in society, and criminal justice systems in particular, respond (or fail to respond) to the harm imposed on ecosystems and their human and non-human components. Such research has crystallised into the rapidly evolving field of green criminology.

White (2008) has characterised green criminology in succinct terms as ‘basically refer[ring] to the study of environmental harm, environmental laws and environmental regulation by criminologists’ (p.8). This simple explanation, however, betrays considerable debate in the literature concerning what ‘green criminology’ is and even what it should be called. Certainly, as a field, it has taken some time to gain momentum, especially in the USA. Lynch and Stretesky (2007) note the irony in this, as one of the first true green criminology discussions came out of the USA (Lynch 1990). In that paper, Lynch argued that the ‘greening of criminology’ was (to be) derived from a form of ecological socialism Lynch termed the ‘red/green alliance’, the adherents of which sought to emphasise the inequalities of wealth and power in society which lead to increased environmental degradation while also ensuring it is the poor and socially excluded who bear the brunt of its negative effects. Certainly, a green criminology is often regarded as one principally concerned with the political, social and economic relationships in society that breed ecological damage (South 2014).

Green criminology has developed as an umbrella term which has undoubtedly served as a useful focal point for those interested in environmental crime, harms and risks. Indeed, White (2013) has commented that ‘there is no green criminology theory as such’ (p.22) and that ‘those who are doing green criminology define it in ways that best suit their own conception of what it is they are doing’ (p.17). Certainly green criminologists are (like other criminologists) drawn from an array of subject disciplines with different methodological paradigms and epistemological leanings. Given the widely recognised benefits of multidisciplinary research (see McAdam 2012), such plurality in approach is to be positively encouraged as the specialism gains maturity.

The above notwithstanding, various classifications and definitions of green criminology have emerged. These include the so-called legalistic understanding of environmental crimes as violations of criminal laws designed to protect the health and safety of people, the environment, or both. This legalistic position can be contrasted to the socio-legal approach, which acknowledges that the differences between ‘crime’, ‘deviance’, ‘civil wrongs’ and ‘regulatory violations’ are all socially constructed. Both perspectives may be compared to the concept of ‘environmental justice’ and more ‘biocentric’ or ‘deep green’ perspectives, which construe environmental crime as ‘any human activity that disrupts a biotic system’ (Gibbs et al. 2010: p.127). Nevertheless, in a major contribution to this literature, Stretesky et al. (2014) have criticised the slow pace of theoretical development in the field, arguing that ‘this lack of clarity about the scope, purpose, and theoretical orientation of green criminology proves difficult when it comes to identifying the kinds of crimes and harms that ought to be included as legitimate subject matter within the discipline’ (p.122). In response to this problem, Stretesky et al. offer a new model of environmental crime. Their resulting ‘treadmill of crime’ theoretical model grounds environmental crimes, environmental harms and ecological destruction in general within the contemporary capitalistic imperative to increase production. In addition, the work of Agnew (2013) casts light on what he calls ‘everyday ecocide’ perpetrated by individuals, and how this can be explained within the context of more mainstream criminological positions.

One of the key assertions made by Gibbs et al. (2010) is that ‘[g]reen criminology needs an interdisciplinary framework’ (p.129). The virtues of an interdisciplinary approach are of course now widely touted in most academic fields (see Matthews and Ross 2010), and for good reason. Drawing from a variety of sources and perspectives almost inevitably provides a deeper understanding of any given subject of the research exercise as well as providing the scope for transposing ideas and solutions between subject areas (Lury and Wakeford 2012). The virtues of an interdisciplinary approach are well recognised by criminologists (Walsh and Ellis 2007; Dupont-Morales 1998), but a criminological understanding of environmental issues demands an extra dimension of disciplinary cross-over dependent, as it is (at least in part), on some understanding of ecological sciences as well as the social sciences and humanities.

This book is presented very much in the spirit of interdisciplinarity which we argue is key to the continued development and ultimate success of the green criminological field. The study of environmental harms inevitably draws on a complex array of data, ideas and practices from across the social and physical sciences. In particular, it calls into question the interface between science and law, which Houck (2003) describes as a ‘tale from a troubled marriage’ (p.1926). Indeed, a number of chapters in this volume highlight the significant interaction between physical and social sciences in this area. Economic matters are also clearly raised by such discussions (Helm and Hepburn 2009). Perhaps more subtly, economic impacts of environmental harm are often inherently linked with more cultural and social factors, at which point we move into the domains of sociology and anthropology. Thus, the loss of the fishing industry in the Maldives due to rises in sea levels, for example, is as much a tale of cultural destruction as it is of ecological damage and (perhaps) corporate or even state criminality. As such, criminologists require the input of cultural experts in order to fully appreciate and incorporate such events. Studies of environmental victimisation also inevitably touch upon healthcare issues (Chivian et al. 1993), the politicisation of the ‘green agenda’ (Helm and Hepburn 2009) and the provision of insurance to those affected (IASIE 2009).

This book brings together papers originally presented at or inspired by the ESRC-funded green criminology conference which took place at London South Bank University in July 2014, noteworthy, we feel, for being (to the best of our knowledge) the first international conference to bring researchers in both the social and ecological sciences together under the banner of green criminology. The aim of the book is to allow for discussion of both theoretical and practical considerations that impact on the effectiveness of contemporary environmental criminal justice. The book discusses the social construction of green crimes and the varied ways in which poaching and other conservation crimes are perceived, operate and are ideologically driven. It also examines practical issues in environmental criminal justice and crime prevention including case studies relating to specific conservation crimes such as rhino or tiger poaching, or the illegal trade in wild orchids. The book provides a platform for emerging scholars to present new ideas in criminology with an emphasis on allowing new scholars, particularly those engaged in doctoral study, to discuss different ideological perspectives on environmental law enforcement, policy development and crime prevention, detection and punishment.

We have divided our collection into three parts. Part I, Perspectives on Conservation Crimes, contains chapters that illustrate the nature of the ‘problem’—that is, identifying environmentally harmful activities and labelling (or failing to label) them as ‘crime’. In this section, Samia Saif and Douglas MacMillan consider the example of tiger poaching in the Sundarbans mangrove forests of Bangladesh. Tigers are protected under both Bangladeshi and international legal frameworks; nevertheless, poaching continues at a rate that constitutes a serious and imminent threat to the tiger population in that region. The drivers behind this crime are varied but include self-defence (when tigers are seen as a threat to villagers), traditional cultural practices (including the use of tiger parts in traditional medicines) and economic (with tiger parts—for medicine or as trophies—fetching good prices, at least in the context of local economies). Saif and MacMillan offer a number of suggestions for reducing the incidence of poaching through both supply side and demand side interventions. They also provide some valuable methodological lessons, demonstrating in particular the need to understand local social, economic and cultural contexts both in enabling research and in developing viable policy solutions.

John Cianchi takes a very different point of departure. While international legal agreements and the national criminal law are increasingly used to try to prevent certain types of environmentally harmful activities, it is by no means the case that all such activities, or even those causing the most harm (whether to eco-systems or to those social groups that exist within or alongside them), are subject to such control. Indeed, a key thread in the critical strand of green criminology has been how the vested interests of powerful governments and corporations—and, arguably, the global capitalist economic system itself—leads to inadequate and unequal protection of the environment. It is in recognition of this that many people concerned with environmental harm turn to activism. Cianchi draws on two groups—Tasmanian anti-deforestation activists and the global anti-whaling campaign of the SeaShepherd conservation group—to help us understand why and how such activists feel the need to resort to direct action in an effort to protect eco-systems and species that are not (or not suitably) protected under law.

However, while there are clear examples of environmental campaigning leading to the introduction of legislation, this is not the only—or even the usual—response of governments to campaigning movements. As Aurelie Sauvant, Wendy Fitzgibbon and Angus Nurse demonstrate, it is often the activists themselves who are criminalised rather than the activities they are campaigning against—again a reflection of the economic and political interests of those who benefit from ecological harms. The criminalisation of protesters alongside the failure to criminalise those individuals and institutions is a particularly interesting example of how criminology, above other disciplines in either the social or physical sciences, has a special position in shaping both our understanding of and responses to conflict between the social and natural worlds.

In part II, Crime Prevention and Detection, we move to what we might think of as ‘solutions’ to the problem of environmental crime. Amy Hinsley, Emily King and Pablo Sinovas open this section with a discussion of the application of the natural sciences to the problem of tracing—and therefore identifying—cultivated orchids to distinguish them from illegally collected wild orchids and therefore help detect and prevent the trade in the latter. Although their example is specific, lessons learnt here can be applied broadly across a range of green crimes—it demonstrates the importance of the role of the hard sciences in developing effective interventions, as well as in identifying specific harms and crimes in the first place (e.g., in being able to distinguish between legally and illegally sourced orchids). But again, the particular role of criminology in combatting environmental crimes is neatly illustrated: lessons learnt from study of other illegal markets, and other crime prevention efforts more generally (i.e., beyond environmental crime), such as over trafficking and laundering, or over displacement and dispersal of crime, have important implications and applications for the fight against green crime.

Bill McClanahan and Tyler Wall focus on a different set of crime-prevention measures—the militarisation of anti-poaching efforts in Africa. Again, the specific example can also be read as a general lesson for a range of other examples of environmental crime, and again, the particular perspectives that criminology can bring to the conservation table are clear. Militarisation in anti-poaching at least partly reflects more general trends in repressive crime control policies and also in the increased reframing of certain types of crime (drug trafficking being another obvious example) as a security rather than criminal justice problem. McClanahan and Wall also return to some of the themes of economic and social inequality discussed in the context of Part II, exploring the role of (neo-)colonialism and racism in the construction of green crimes and official responses to them. Elisa Reuter and Lieselott Bisschop also look at anti-poaching efforts in Africa providing and in-depth case-study of Balule nature reserve in South Africa. They draw on the knowledge and experience of local stake-holders (through interviews and observational research) and existing crime prevention theory to analyse existing (and make suggestions for future) anti-poaching techniques. This marriage of crime prevention theory to specific local (ecological, cultural and legal-political) contexts demonstrates both the role of criminology in conservation and the role of other disciplinary perspectives in shaping crime prevention responses to conservation issues.

If Part I focused mostly on the ‘problem’ of environmental crime and criminalisation, and Part II on ‘solutions’ to those problems, then Part III, Critical Perspectives on Policy and Enforcement, seeks to close the circle by problematizing the solutions: applying criminal justice and crime prevention techniques to environmental crimes is far from straightforward. Here we have two examples from Scandinavia, a region where environmental laws, at least as they are on the books, are particularly strong. But as Iina Sahramäki says in her chapter, creating laws and enforcing laws are not necessarily the same thing. Placing environmental harm into the realm of criminal justice raises questions of policing. In Finland, environmental protection agencies and the national police force both have a role to play in investigating and prosecuting environmental crimes. But communications between the two, and differing interpretations of what does and does not constitute ‘crime’, contribute to low detection and conviction rates, reducing the deterrent effect of applying the criminal law in the first place. Challenges to effective policing of environmental crimes include the need for legal and ecological specialists to be able to effectively communicate and collaborate, and the difficulties of changing policing culture to take environmental crime as seriously as other more traditional aspects of police work.

Finally, Emil Rytterstadt focuses on the problems of enforcing hunting regulations in Sweden. Again, apparently strong laws do not necessarily translate into effective reduction of the activities being legislated against. Emil returns to some of the themes covered in Part I of the book by exploring the cultural and socio-economic drivers behind illicit hunting, framing them in the criminological language of motivation and techniques of neutralisation to further demonstrate the difficulties in enforcing laws even when they do exist. Applying these observations beyond the example discussed re-illustrates the extent of the challenge of environmental crime prevention: if a rich western democracy like Sweden struggles to control hunting and poaching even with robust legislation and enforcement bodies, then the challenges in less-developed parts of the world—where environmental problems often seem to be the most pressing—will inevitably be much greater.

At first sight, our eight chapters seem to cover wildly different aspects of the broad problem of environmental crime. But it becomes clear that taken together they provide a number of important lessons applicable to green criminology more generally. A number of common threads and themes do emerge: the role of social, economic and political inequalities in the genesis of environmental harm and in the shaping of national legal and policy responses to this; the need to blend physical and social science techniques to fully appreciate what constitutes environmental harm in the first place; the need for appreciating local knowledge and cultural understandings as well as global economic forces when conducting research into and developing policy responses to green crime; how, on the one hand, many conservation challenges are contextually specific while, on the other hand, recognising that many aspects of crimes such as poaching are common despite radically different cultural, political and economic backdrops. Most significantly, for current purposes, we see a wide range of ways in which ‘traditional’ criminological expertise (e.g., around criminalisation, crime prevention and policing) can feed into conservation efforts—but also how other disciplinary expertise in both the human and physical sciences can inform criminal justice responses to environmental protection.

References

Agnew, R. (2013). The ordinary acts that contribute to ecocide: A criminological analysis. In N. South & A. Brisman (Eds.), The Routledge international handbook of green criminology (pp. 58–72). Abingdon: Routledge.

Chivian, E., McGally, M., Hu, H., & Haines, A. (1993). Critical condition: Human health and the environment. Cambridge: MIT Press.

Dupont-Morales, M. (1998). Constructing the case study in victimology. Journal of Criminal Justice Education, 9(2), 293–302.CrossRef

Gibbs, C., Gore, M., McGarrell, E., & Rivers, L. (2010). Introducing conservation criminology: Towards interdisciplinary scholarship on environmental crimes and risks. British Journal of Criminology, 50(1), 124–144.CrossRef

Helm, D., & Hepburn, C. (2009). The economics and politics of climate change. Oxford: Oxford University Press.CrossRef

Houck, O. (2003). Tales from a troubled marriage: Science and law in environmental policy. Science, 302, 1926.CrossRef

International Association for the Study of Insurance Economics (2009). The Insurance Industry and climate change—Contribution to the global debate. Geneva: The Geneva Association.

Lury, C., & Wakeford, N. (2012). Innovative methods: The happening of the social. Abingdon: Routledge.

Lynch, M. (1990). The greening of criminology. Critical Criminologist, 2, 1–5.

Lynch, M., & Stretesky, P. (2007). Green criminology in the United States. In P. Beirne & N. South (Eds.), Issues in green criminology: Confronting harms against environments, humanity and other animals (pp. 248–269). Cullompton: Willan Publishing.

Matthews, B. & Ross, L. (2010). Research methods: A practical guide for the social sciences. Harlow: Pearson.

McAdam, J. (2012). Climate change and displacement: Multidisciplinary perspectives. Oxford: Hart Publishing.

South, N. (2014). Green criminology: Reflections, connections, horizons. International Journal for Crime, Justice and Social Democracy, 3(2), 6–20.CrossRef

Stretesky, P., Long, M., & Lynch, M. (2014). The treadmill of crime: Political economy and green criminology. Abingdon: Routledge.

Walsh, A., & Ellis, L. (2007). Criminology: An interdisciplinary approach. Thousand Oaks: Sage.

White, R. (2008). Crimes against nature: Environmental criminology and ecological justice. Cullompton: Willan Publishing.

White, R. (2013). The conceptual contours of green criminology. In R. Walters, D. Westerhuisand, & T. Wyatt (Eds.), Emerging issues in green criminology: Exploring power, justice and harm (pp. 17–33). Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.

Part I

Perspectives on Conservation Crimes

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2016

Gary R. Potter, Angus Nurse and Matthew Hall (eds.)The Geography of Environmental CrimePalgrave Studies in Green Criminology10.1057/978-1-137-53843-7_2

2. Poaching, Trade, and Consumption of Tiger Parts in the Bangladesh Sundarbans

Samia Saif¹  and Douglas Craig MacMillan²

(1)

Bangladesh Centre for Advanced Studies (BCAS), Dhaka, 1212, Bangladesh

(2)

Durrell Institute of Conservation and Ecology (DICE), School of Anthropology and Conservation, University of Kent, Canterbury, Kent, CT2 7NR, UK

Introduction

Tiger (Panthera tigris) populations are collapsing across their entire range due to the demand for tiger parts for traditional Asian medicines (Nowell, 2000). The global tiger population is now fewer than 3000, inhabiting less than 7 % of their historic habitat (Sanderson et al. 2006; Dinerstein et al. 2007). Recognising tiger poaching as one of the major reasons for the global population decline, several national and international commitments have been made to save the tigers from poachers.

Many research studies have been carried out on the trade in tiger parts and the use of tiger parts in traditional Asian medicines (Nowell 2000; Ellis 2005; Stoner and Pervushina 2013; Nijman and Shepherd 2015). In the Bangladesh Sundarbans, tiger poaching has been identified as a high priority threat (Aziz et al. 2013). However, literature on the local usage of tiger parts, poaching, and trade in the Bangladesh Sundarbans is sparse (Ahmad et al. 2009; Saif et al., 2016a,b). This chapter provides details of the first in-depth research on tiger poaching, trade, and local usage of tiger parts in the Bangladesh Sundarbans.

Methods

Study Area

The Sundarbans is the largest mangrove forest in the world, situated in the Ganges–Brahmaputra Delta (Ahmad et al. 2009) spanning the border between Bangladesh and India. On the Bangladesh side, the Sundarbans covers an area of 6017 km² and is classified as a Class 3 Tiger Conservation Landscape of Global Priority (Ahmad et al. 2009). The Bangladesh Sundarbans is surrounded by eight upazilas (administrative sub-districts) of which six (Shyamnagar, Koyra, Dacope, Mongla, Morrelganj, and Sarankhola) are immediately adjacent to the Bangladesh Sundarbans (Fig. 2.1). The remaining two upazilas (Mothbaria and Pathorghata) are on the east side and not connected directly to the forest, separated by the river Baleshwar. The Forest Department (FD) has divided the tiger habitat of the Bangladesh Sundarbans into four tiger ranges: Satkhira, Khulna, Chandpai, and Sarankhola.

A373323_1_En_2_Fig1_HTML.gif

Fig. 2.1

The Bangladesh Sundarbans with the locations of 29 Village Tiger Response Teams (VTRTs) and the adjacent upazilas

There are 76 bordering villages, home to around 350,000 people, most of whom are directly dependent on the natural resources of the forest for their livelihood, including honey collectors, wood collectors, fishermen, nipa leaf (Nypa fruticans), and thatching grass collectors (Ahmad et al. 2009). It is estimated that about 20–50 villagers are killed by tiger attacks annually during resource extraction forays into the forest (Ahmad et al. 2009; Barlow et al. 2013).

The close proximity of the villages to the forest often causes tigers to stray inside them, fuelling human–tiger conflict. Over the years, many tigers have been killed by the villagers during stray tiger incidents, and different motivations to kill stray tiger and factors associated with this behaviour have been recently studied by Inskip et al. (2014). In order to reduce tiger mortality, WildTeam, an NGO working for tiger conservation in Bangladesh, in collaboration with the FD has developed Village Tiger Response Teams (VTRTs) in areas where there has been significant human–tiger conflict. Team members are drawn from members of the village community and as unpaid volunteers (Rejuan, 2014). These community-based volunteer teams are trained and experienced in dealing with stray tiger situations in the villages and are knowledgeable about village life and forest resource collection practices. At the time of this research, in 2011–2012, there were 29 VTRTs in the adjacent upazilas (Fig. 2.1).

Sampling Strategy and Interview Approach

We carried out semi-structured interviews with members of the village community in the four administrative tiger ranges between December 2011 and June 2013 in areas where tigers have been killed. Informal interviews were also conducted with a researcher, two journalists, a police officer, and a lawyer.

The approach was partly inductive, allowing informants to discuss all the issues they felt relevant using mostly open-ended questions, with interviewing continuing until nothing new was learned, that is, until the data became saturated (Newing et al. 2011). This approach has been used in other studies for an in-depth understanding of wildlife killing, for example, poaching in Mongolia (Pratt et al. 2004), cetacean by-catch in south Korea (MacMillan and Han 2011), illegal wildlife harvest by trapping in Vietnam (MacMillan and Nguyen 2013), and the hunting of exotic species in Guinea (Carvalho et al. 2014).

In deciding our research strategy, we had to take into account