such as ethnobiology, traditional ecological
knowledge, and ecosystem health, so far
the natural and social sciences have by and
large failed to engage in a truly in-depth
and constructive dialogue around conserva-
tion issues— a dialogue that would be con-
ducive to the development of a common
language and a common ground for both
research and action. More typical are
debates such as the one that flared up
recently on the pages of Conservation
Biology.^8 Another significant example is a
symposium organised by anthropologists at
the 2002 annual meeting of the Society for
Conservation Biology. Although the sympo-
sium was titled “Integrating People and
Conservation— Interdisciplinary
Approaches”, most of the presenters were
from the social and environmental sciences,
with no “hard core” conservation biologists
involved.
Indeed, over the past two decades a signifi-
cant disconnect has become apparent
between biological and socio-cultural
approaches to conservation, a disconnect
that is somewhat reminiscent of the gap
that C.P. Snow famously identified between
the “two cultures” of science and the arts.^9
At one end, social scientists have critiqued
conservationists for seeing “pristine environ-
ments” and “wildernesses” where in reality
they were confronted with cultural land-
scapes.^10 At the other end, conservationists
have portrayed social scientists as starry-
eyed adepts of the myth of the “ecologically
noble savage” living in idealised balance
with nature.^11
In the midst of such debates, indigenous
peoples, minorities, and other local commu-
nities dwelling in areas of significance for
conservation have often been confronted
with unsavoury prospects. In many cases,
they faced restriction in the use of natural
resources and even forcible exclusion from
their lands under charges of being destruc-
tive interlopers— thus losing their vital
material, cultural, and spiritual links with
the environment.^12 But nearly as detrimen-
tal to them may be being hailed as “stew-
ards of nature” with the attached miscon-
strued expectations that they should behave
like frozen museum specimens— thus com-
promising their right and ability to adapt
and develop in response to changing cir-
cumstances.^13 This is certainly not to say
that examples of indigenous peoples and
conservationists working
together for the conser-
vation of biodiversity and
protected areas are lack-
ing.^14 Yet, when indige-
nous and minority groups
have adopted the lan-
guage of stewardship in
an effort to defend them-
selves from exclusionary
practices, they have
sometimes been charged
with engaging in “ecopol-
itics” and “strategic
essentialism”.^15Meanwhile, many gov-
ernments around the
world have continued to
turn blind eyes and deaf ears onto matters
of environmental as well as cultural protec-
tion. Industrialists and developers have kept
promoting unsustainable practices of land
and resource use, predicated on the grow-
ing dominance of societal models of afflu-
ence and over-consumption. And interna-
tional organisations and NGOs have been
striving to uphold the ideals of sustainable
development formulated in the early
1990s— the quest for balance among the
three “pillars” of environment, society, and
economy and the concern for fulfilling the
needs of present generations without com-
promising the prospects of generations to
come. Mounting global pressure, however,
has taken aim at the sustainable develop-
ment agenda and shaken its foundations.
From resting evenly on the three “pillars”,Understanding aand mmeasuring bbiocultural ddiversity
Converging wwith tthe
ecological eextinction
crisis, tthe pplanet hhas
been eexperiencing aa
severe eerosion oof tthe
diversity oof hhuman
cultures aand llan-
guages, rreducing tthe
pool oof kknowledge,
behaviors, aand vvalues
from wwhich iindividual
communities aand
humanity aat llarge ccan
draw tto rrespond tto
social aand eenviron-
mental sstresses