Mohammad Arju

Thinking about justice and equity in Bangladesh’s fisheries: Where to start?

Early on the night of March 16, 2021, police opened fire on a small fishing boat and killed a young fisherman named Mohammad Masud in the Meghna River. The shots were fired in the river north of Chandpur, the town famous for its well-known trading center of ilish (anglicized as hilsa) – Bangladesh’s most prized fish. Twenty-four-year-old Mr. Masud and his fellow fishermen went fishing during a ban season imposed by the government to protect juvenile ilish. Police said they opened fire in self-defense after the fishermen threw brick chips and attacked the police with sticks (United News of Bangladesh, 2021). When a local journalist went to the home of the deceased Mr. Masud, he found that the family of the poor fisher did not have even a ‘handful of rice’ to feed themselves (Hossain, 2021).

Official estimates tell us that the catch in mixed-species open-water fisheries has been increasing throughout the last decade. Catch in the ilish fishery is also rising; this is the single largest fishery in volume and economic value. Still, fishing families like Mr. Masud’s are either ultra-poor or poor. Fishers go hungry during fishing ban seasons. Armed police, coast guard, and navy patrol the fishing grounds to enforce ban seasons. In recent years, the air force has also conducted aerial surveillance (Ministry of Defence, 2018). During such a ban season in 2020, at least 5533 fishers were jailed (Bangladesh Sangbad Sangstha, 2020). How did conservation in Bangladesh become so heavy-handed and militarized while the poverty in fishing communities is still proverbial?

Systematic economic and environmental injustices to peasants and fishers date back to the British colonial takeover in Bengal. Exploitation and draining of resources were the main goals of the British colonial authorities. The British East India Company, and later the British monarchy, used a diversity of legal, financial, and trade mechanisms (Mukherjee, 2010) to industrialize England at the expense of the local economy and society in Bengal. To do that, the colonizers uprooted the Indigenous and customary rights to land and environmental commons. The colonial administration took control of water bodies and aquatic commons.

The British East India Company established its new land administration and revenue regime by the Permanent Settlement Act of 1793. It transferred all lands as estates to a newly created small group of Zamindars. Rivers and other open water bodies in or adjacent to such estates were now effectively privatized and part of the estates of these Zamindars. Unlike the previous local revenue collector Zamindars, these new Zamindars had legal proprietorship over the land and virtually no oversight by the civil administration. Without proprietorship and right to public access, the fishers had to pay high rents to the Zamindars and their suzerainty. The absence of tenure rights also diminished the environmental stewardship of fishers.

Later, the colonial administration introduced more legal instruments (Singh & Gupta, 2017), and ultimately there was no public-access fishery in inland and inshore waters. All rivers and open water bodies were divided among Zamindars as their jolmahal (water estate). Only the offshore areas in the Bay of Bengal were an exception. In marine fisheries, the main priority of colonial administration was securing new supply for the urban center of Kolkata (Jenkins, 1911, 1938), the main seat of the British colony in South Asia.

After the colonial empire, we did not see any significant efforts by the independent national government to address distributive and procedural injustice to artisanal fishers. When the British empire was forced out, the newly elected democratic government abolished the colonial Zamindar system and reformed land tenures by enacting a new law, the East Bengal State Acquisition and Tenancy Act, 1950. Successive governments have changed land laws to alter provisions related to existing landowners (Jabbar, 1978). But they did not fully implement fundamental and direct tenure reforms to benefit landless people, such as sharecroppers and traditional fishers. To date, there is no process in place to restore the indigenous and customary tenure rights of fishers.

Instead, the national land and revenue administrations took over all jolmahals in rivers and other water bodies previously owned by colonial Zamindars. Officially stated policy of authorities is to lease out jolmahals to fishers. But the government does not invest public funds in fisheries cooperatives, and fishers do not have access to private investment from the formal financial sector. Public agencies responsible for leasing jolmahal lack accountability and transparency. Consequently, in almost all cases, the fishing rights in jolmahals have always been bought by non-fisher investors.

The rent-seeking governance regime in open water fisheries has been continued for decades aggravating distributive injustices to traditional subsistence and artisanal fishers. Sustaining the fisheries and fishing habitats is not a priority of the lessee or the lessor agencies in the government. The fishers have been working as either laborers under lessees who are the owners of small-scale commercial fishing units or earning extraordinarily little as artisanal fishers after paying rents.

In 1986, the national fisheries agency tried to use the New Fisheries Improvement Policy to address access issues of subsistence and artisanal fishers. The fisheries agency started to take control of three hundred jolmahals from the land administration. The officially stated goal was to start leasing those jolmahals out to ‘genuine’ fishers and introduce fishing license for them. But the fisheries agency failed to achieve the goals. Later in 1995, the government abolished all jolmahals in the rivers and streams and effectively introduced riverine open-access fisheries (Thompson & Hossain, 1998). But other jolmahals in floodplains and other wetlands are still in force and still being leased out to date.

Abolishing private-access fisheries in the rivers could have been an opportunity to start working for equity and justice in artisanal fisheries. Newly introduced open access fisheries in the rivers partially improved access for riverine fishers. But there have been no legal reforms to recognize customary tenures of traditional artisanal fishers. The government does not invest in artisanal fishing communities to enable them to secure a fair share of the income from fisheries. As a result, the fishers have been unable to fully use that window of opportunity. Like marine areas – where fishing was open access from the beginning; structural barriers to equity and justice rooted in tenures, local political-economy, and the state’s economic programs also remained the same in riverine fisheries. So, the rural poor have benefitted little from riverine open-access fisheries.

The peasants and fishing communities did not stand a chance against regional and national policy priorities (such as World Bank led Structural Adjustment Programs, and Flood Action Plans) that resulted in degraded and reduced habitats of open water fisheries. For decades, open water fisheries were shrinking due to a wide range of pressures. Reduced water flow in transboundary rivers due to dams, barrages, and diversion of water in the upstream countries also significantly impacted the aquatic ecosystems in Bangladesh. Industrial and agricultural runoffs have polluted the water and impacted water quality. Changes in land use including intensive farming, flood control measures, water infrastructure, draining for agriculture and land development, and encroachment drastically reduced and degraded the habitats of open water fisheries (Ali, 1997). Especially, water engineering including embankments impacted fish biodiversity, population, and unit value of the catch (Halls, 1997).

No efforts have been made to-date to restore and conserve fisheries’ habitats, to stop or mitigate impacts of those external threats to fisheries. Rather, in the wake of shrinking open water fisheries, the government prioritized expanding aquaculture. Wealthy landowners in the rural areas have benefitted from profitable aquaculture expansion that is often responsible for reducing and degrading habitats of open water fisheries in Bangladesh. When in the late nineties, Bangladesh was experiencing a decline in a total estimated catch in open water fisheries including the single largest contributor among the species – ilish – none of these factors were prioritized to address in fisheries management plans. For instance, the Hilsa Fisheries Management Action Plan (HFMAP) in 2003 was mostly used to establish seasonal no-take zones and ban seasons.

The management plan started with a target to protect jatka (juvenile ilish less than 23 CM in size). Several top-down interventions have been gradually placed since 2003 to increase the ilish catch. These interventions include spatial and temporal restrictions on fishing, limitations on the use of fishing gears and size of ilish at the catch, regulations for fishing vessels, and distributing food-grains as rations among an extremely limited number of fishers during the fishing-ban season.

For the implementation of the conservation measures under the HFMAP, the most notable temporal interventions for the conservation of ilish is two different fishing ban-seasons; one to protect the brood ilish and another to protect the jatka. To protect the brood (mature and about to spawn), there is a 22-days long ban on catching, carrying, transporting, offering, selling, exporting, or possessing ilish fishes in the country; days of this ban period is evenly divided before and after the first full moon of Bengali month of Aswin (usually in October). And the second ban is to protect jatka; the ban is for seven months from November 1 to May 31 every year, during this time, catching, carrying, and selling of jatka (juvenile ilish less than 25 cm in size) is prohibited.

The government relies on heavy-handed enforcement to force subsistence and artisanal fishers to comply with these interventions. The government do not compensate fishers during the fishing ban seasons. Although, in 2004, the authorities have started to distribute limited amount of rice as ration through the Vulnerable Group Feeding (VGF) (Haldar & Ali, 2014). In the absence of any compensation, the authorities implement strict enforcement to force the fishers to comply with fishing ban seasons. For instance, from 2011-2012 to 2013-2014 fiscal year, the mobile courts imposed 2,462 prison sentences and fined 106,509 USD to law-breaking fisherfolks under jatka and brood ilish conservation activities (Md Monirul Islam, Mohammed, & Ali, 2016). The mobile courts are in fact non-judicial summary courts run by ‘executive magistrates’ embedded with law enforcing agencies

All seasonal no-take zones of ilish, aka, sanctuaries are in Ganges and Meghna River systems, and coastal near-shore waters of the Bay of Bengal. There are two declared Marine Protected Areas in offshore waters to protect megafauna species of conservation interest. Planning and designation of these riverine and marine protected areas were done in a way that did not adequately consider social outcomes. Consequently, these protected areas underperforming in ‘effectiveness and social equity’ (M. Mahmudul Islam, 2021). Most of the factors (M. Mahmudul Islam, 2011) behind endemic and proverbial poverty of fishers in Bangladesh can be traced back to the absence of distributive and procedural justice for fishers. Yet, from the beginning of state interventions to govern and manage open water fisheries, the erratic efforts were hardly participatory (Ali, 1997). More than two decades later, that ‘hardly participatory’ approach in fisheries governance has morphed into heavy-handed top-down enforcement-based and increasingly militarized conservation.

The government does not see the well-being of fishing communities as an integral part of sustainability in fisheries. Instead, the authorities are focused on increasing the volume of catch (or ‘production’ as the government says) at any price. Equity and justice for fishers is not a priority of the government as per the existing fisheries policies and plans such as National Fisheries Policy 1988, The Marine Fisheries Act 2020, The Eighth Five Year Plan, and the Workplan for Marine Fisheries Resources Management. The threats to open water fisheries as described by Ali, 1997 are largely unmitigated and still exacerbating the problems in artisanal fisheries. On the other hand, the old pattern of ownership over the means of fishing operations; capital, boats and gears, and other support equipment and infrastructure continues today both in inland and marine fisheries. And now new uses of inland and marine waters in Bangladesh are creating new threats to artisanal fishers. These new uses include unregulated navigation and shipping, sand dredging, rapidly increasing unsustainable economic activity in coastal and marine areas, coastal roads and other mega-infrastructures, military installments, ports, and power plants.

Fishery improvement and enhancement projects failed to remove structural barriers to procedural and distributive justice in the backdrop of such external threats, and systematic deprivation of land rights and tenures of artisanal fishers. For more than a decade, I have been closely observing politics and natural resources governance in Bangladesh. To me, it is clear that, the rural poor whose lives and livelihoods are most intricately related to open water fisheries have very few meaningful democratic ways to change the state’s economic programs and development priorities to change this course. But still, justice in artisanal fisheries is not widely discussed on the national level. For instance, civil society groups are not concerned that fishers are being arrested and jailed after summary trials during fishing ban seasons (Siddique, 2018).

Recently we had a series of conversations on the national level about the need and urgency of environmental justice for artisanal fishers. Late in 2020, I facilitated a series of dialogues about equity and justice in Bangladesh’s fisheries. OXFAM in Bangladesh organized the events as part of the Transboundary Rivers of South Asia (TROSA) program. A significant number of stakeholders – fishers, fisheries managers, fisheries practitioners in NGOs, leaders of civil society organizations, leaders of environmental NGOs, members of the academia, journalists, and other communicators took part in the events.

Although due to public health concerns amid the ongoing COVID19 pandemic, we hosted the events online. And the number of participants was not enough to adequately representing all stakeholders in fisheries. Fisheries are only sustainable when the wellbeing of fishing communities is guaranteed; small-scale fisheries stakeholders are now aware of that. Stakeholders are yet to determine how they can influence related policies to deliver environmental justice for artisanal fishers. In line with those discussions, I am sharing my observations about scenarios in Bangladesh’s small-scale fisheries. I hope these observations will help stakeholders who are willing to engage in policy advocacy for equity and justice for artisanal fishers.

The main strength of fisheries in Bangladesh is small-scale artisanal fishing. Annually, the artisanal fishers bring most of the catch. And these artisanal fishers in Bangladesh are very clear-eyed about what needs to be changed to remove structural barriers to equity and justice in fisheries. The colonial British administration de-commonized open water fishery habitats. And the process of decolonizing water and fisheries governance is yet to run its’ course. The land reform that started with the East Bengal State Acquisition and Tenancy Act 1950 largely excluded restoring customary tenures of traditional artisanal fishers. Abolishing riverine jolmahals in 1995 did not protect the exclusive rights of traditional artisanal fishers. Consequently, the existing water and fisheries governance regime in Bangladesh does not recognize the customary tenure rights of traditional artisanal fishers, or it does not accommodate customary fisheries governance practices.

Influential actors in the development and conservation sectors of Bangladesh consider small-scale fisheries as a classic example of the tragedy of the commons. The fundamental problems with colonial water and fisheries governance and tenure rights are generally not acknowledged. Instead, the dominant narrative is centered on the assumption that SSF is difficult to manage because of data limitations. This narrative also uses wicked problems of SSF as justifications for prioritizing intensive aquaculture (often by encroaching open water fishery habitats) as an alternative to open water fisheries. This is surprising that, in this age and time, many small-scale fisheries researchers and practitioners in Bangladesh still believe in the debunked myth of the ‘tragedy of the commons.’ Many often use this narrative to undermine any discussion about the necessity of equity and justice in fisheries. Discussing the futility, irrelevance, and racist roots of the tragedy of the commons myth is something we should do more.

The supposed lack of data should not be a massive challenge. Western science is not the only system of knowing. Despite external adversity and the absence of the policy-support, a small number of traditional artisanal fishing communities still uses local ecological knowledge and wisdom for effective and ecologically sustainable fishing. A few cooperatives of traditional fishers are still functioning even if limited in scopes. But fishers’ knowledge and customary governance practices are not well documented and not reflected in fisheries governance. Facilitating inter-generational learning among fishing communities is also not happening. Positive changes in policy framework and tenures will enable many other fishing communities to revive their indigenous and local fisheries governance system.

At least half of the people in small-scale fisheries are women. Particularly women are leading shore-support in fishing, post-harvest, and processing activities. In the post-harvest sector, particularly in fish-drying yards and shrimp processing plants, women fish-workers work in hazardous conditions with slave-wages risking their health. There is a significant number of women fishers too. But women are not acknowledged as a part of small-scale fisheries in the national public sphere. The government, NGOs, CSOs, and the media exclude women fishers from conversations on fisheries.

Fishers think they are not getting a fair share of income from the river fisheries. The lions’ share of the income in the fisheries sector is going to the traders because they own the capital, and the fisherfolks need to borrow from them to finance fishing operations. Traditional artisanal fishers say that they have valid grievances about corruption in the distribution of food-grain rations for fishers during fishing ban seasons. But in final consideration, they prefer public investment so that they can build and own boats and gears and can self-finance fishing operations. Traditional fishers want abolishing of private-access fishing and reform of open-access fisheries to secure exclusive fishing rights of artisanal fishing communities. On the other hand, fishers who work as laborers in small-scale commercial fisheries want good job opportunities. Because to begin with, they are not formally recognized as laborers and not employed as per the labor laws. But these opinions of fishers are rarely heard in relevant forums. Because almost all the time, people who are not genuine traditional and artisanal fishers get invited to participate in such forums related to fisheries.

There is virtually no representation of traditional artisanal fishers in fisheries governance and management. Small-scale commercial fishers and fish-workers are not represented in the SSF associations. SSF associations are led by and consist of owners of fishing boats and businesses. It is nearly structurally impossible for artisanal fishers in the existing fisheries governance regime. Inclusion of fishers in policy advocacy run by non-government actors for more just and equitable governance is also difficult. Because programs by both government and non-government organizations are designed in a way that in the long-term only suitable for local political leaders, informal moneylenders, fish traders, and owners of commercial fishing units to participate. Both traditional and small-scale commercial fishers lack organizing capacity due to poor economic situations and political powerlessness. Fishers are not enabled to organize at a minimum level that is necessary for the representation.

The public agencies responsible for water, fisheries, and wildlife management are yet to take equity and justice for small-scale fishers seriously. For instance, the fisheries agency – Department of Fisheries does not have any policy framework, capacity, or resources to ensure the participation of artisanal fishers in fisheries policymaking. The volume of ‘production’ is the only success indicator for the Department of Fisheries. Environmental justice is not a mandate for the department, and it has no activity designed to ensure equity and inclusion in fisheries. The fisheries agency is heavily focused on aquaculture expansion. Most of the activities with conservation components are concentrated on the ilish fishery and constrained by project-based time and limited resources.

Fishers say the stories of increased income of artisanal fishers due to ilish conservation is not evidence-based. Because of inflation and the rising cost of fishing trips associated with fuel, engine, boat building, and fishing gears; the net income of fishing families is still decreasing or stagnant in the best-case scenario. The existing temporal measures for ilish conservation did not consider the diversity of fishing gears and indiscriminately ban all fishing gears during ban season even if those gears are not harmful to juvenile ilish. Even after rising catch-effort, if individual fishing units can catch more fish (ilish, for instance) than before, that does not mean more income for them. The distribution of income in fisheries has not changed, and in many cases, is skewed against the artisanal fishers.

These are my observations as a practitioner, but of course, I believe, is helpful to start thinking about environmental justice in Bangladesh’s small-scale fisheries. A better understanding of the current scenario in Bangladesh’s small-scale fisheries is a prerequisite for finding the most suitable leverages for stakeholders to push for changes.

References

Ali, M. Y. (1997). Fish, Water and People Reflections on Inland Openwater Fisheries Resources of Bangladesh. Dhaka: The University Press Limited.

Bangladesh Sangbad Sangstha. (2020, November 7). Mother Ilish Conservation Campaign implemented successfully. Dhaka Tribune. Retrieved from https://www.dhakatribune.com/bangladesh/2020/11/07/mother-ilish-conservation-campaign-implemented-successfully

Haldar, G. C., & Ali, L. (2014). The cost of compensation. Transaction and administration costs of hilsa management in Bangladesh. Retrieved from http://pubs.iied.org/15522IIED

Halls, A. S. (1997). An assessment of the impact of hydraulic engineering on floodplain fisheries and species assemblages in Bangladesh (University of London). Retrieved from https://spiral.imperial.ac.uk/bitstream/10044/1/7704/1/Ashley_Stewart_Halls-1998-PhD-Thesis.pdf

Hossain, S. (2021, March 17). Nihoto jele masud er barite ek mutho chal o nei. Daily Star. Retrieved from https://www.thedailystar.net/bangla/শীর্ষ-খবর/নিহত-জেলে-মাসুদের-বাড়িতে-এক-মুঠো-চালও-নেই-211257

Islam, M. Mahmudul. (2011). Living on the Margin: The Poverty- Vulnerability Nexus in the Small-Scale Fisheries of Bangladesh. In S. Jentoft & A. Eide (Eds.), Poverty Mosaics: Realities and Prospects in Small-Scale Fisheries (pp. 71–96). https://doi.org/10.1007/978-94-007-1582-0

Islam, M. Mahmudul. (2021). Social Dimensions in Designing and Managing Marine Protected Areas in Bangladesh. Human Ecology, 49(2), 171–185. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10745-021-00218-z

Islam, Md Monirul, Mohammed, E. Y., & Ali, L. (2016). Economic incentives for sustainable hilsa fishing in Bangladesh: An analysis of the legal and institutional framework. Marine Policy, 68, 8–22. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.marpol.2016.02.005

Jabbar, M. A. (1978). Land Reform in Bangladesh. In Agrarian Structure and Rural Change. Report prepared for the First FAO World Conference on Agrarian Reform and Rural Development. (pp. 134–148). Dhaka: Ministry of Agriculture, Government of the People’s Republic of Bangladesh.

Jenkins, J. T. (1911). The fisheries of Bengal. Journal of the Royal Society of Arts, 60(3083), 146–166. Retrieved from https://www.jstor.org/stable/41339946

Jenkins, J. T. (1938). The Fisheries of Bengal — Can They be Improved and Developed? Current Science, 6(8), 373–375. Retrieved from https://www.jstor.org/stable/24204411

Ministry of Defence. (2018). Operation of “Mother Hisla Protection Campaign 2018” by Bangladesh Air Force. Retrieved from Inter Services Public Relation Directorate (ISPR) Website website: https://www.ispr.gov.bd/en/operation-of-mother-hilsa-protection-campaign-2018-by-bangladesh-air-force/

Mukherjee, A. (2010). Empire: How colonial India made modern Britain. Economic and Political Weekly, 45(50), 73–82.

Siddique, E. M. K. (2018). Hilsa watch: Evidence-based advocacy for inclusive fisheries governance across shared Ganga-Brahmaputra-Meghna (GBM) river basins. Retrieved from https://cng-cdn.oxfam.org/asia.oxfam.org/s3fs-public/file_attachments/Oxfam-TROSA-Learning-Brief-HILDA-Watch.pdf

Singh, V., & Gupta, S. K. (2017). Modern Acts, Conservation of Fish and Colonial Interest: Inland Fisheries in Mid-Ganga Diara Ecology, India. In A. M. Song, S. D. Bower, P. Onyango, S. J. Cooke, & R. Chuenpagdee (Eds.), Inter-Sectoral Governance of Inland Fisheries (pp. 122–133). Retrieved from http://toobigtoignore.net/research-highlights-1/e-book-inter-sectoral-governance-of-inland-fisheries/

Thompson, P. M., & Hossain, M. M. (1998). Social and distributional issues in open water fisheries management in Bangladesh. Rome.

United News of Bangladesh. (2021, March 16). Fisherman killed during police raid in Meghna river. The Financial Express. Retrieved from https://thefinancialexpress.com.bd/national/fisherman-killed-during-police-raid-in-meghna-river-1615884204

AI in Conservation: Communities’ control over the decision-making process

Fishers and honey collectors in the Sundarbans

Imagine a tropical forest region, a seascape or mangroves, where big data on the society and ecology— on biodiversity, the behavior of peoples as individuals and the community— are being collected through data sensing and other methods and used in a larger Artificial Intelligence project. The machine— the computers and so on— will, of course, learn in the process. Still, from the beginning, the decision about what information to acquire and what and how to use that information is decided by specific (human) stakeholders. Gradually machine learning will take its course and will take AI processes forward. AI will acquire data and set rules for data-use to decide about the access to nature by communities about natures’ commons. AI will determine nature conservation and what is not; it will choose where, when, and how to intervene for conservation.

In recent years, several non-governmental organizations based in North America and Europe embraced AI in nature conservation. The plans and actions of these conservation NGOs have significance for communities all across the world. Because narratives promoted by these big NGOs and their work heavily influence policies and resource allocation outside North America and Europe, unfortunately, it appears that conservation groups who have international influence are yet to recognize that AI is an automated decision-making process. None of these groups are addressing the question of communities’ participation in and control over AI. But the success of these NGOs will mean that, in the coming decades, AI will increasingly determine the extent of control over natures’ commons enjoyed by local and indigenous communities across the world.

For instance, the largest association of nature conservation groups— the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), is currently drafting its program for the 2021-2024 period. The IUCN has identified Artificial Intelligence as one of the main enablers to achieve its goals related to core program areas. It seems the use of big data, machine learning, and AI is considered the most critical enabler in the future programs of the IUCN. But there’s no word about safeguarding against the autonomous superpower of AI to harm; nothing is mentioned about whether there will be efforts to ensure communities’ participation in AI and communities’ control over big data.

If you take a serious look into the current state of the AI field, you will see that basic premises of discussions on AI in the governance of nature conservation should at least consider the following;

AI is a simulation of the human intelligence process owned and run by big data monopolies that also simulate all human biases and aggravate violation of rights and accelerate injustices.
AI is an autonomous decision-making process that has independent power to harm individuals and communities by violating privacy and other rights and has inherent features to aggravate the current state of global inequality through the unequal distribution of resources.
To date, AI innovations and applications are primarily run and owned by a few big data monopolies. Suppose communities do not have ownership of big data. In that case, AI processes and tools have inherent capacities to be used in the disempowerment of people and to hinder equitable governance of nature’s commons.

Unfortunately, while conservation groups are embracing AI, none of these discussions are present. After decades of community work to secure environmental rights and justice, inclusion, and participation, and establishing the concept of free and prior and informed consent— why is this happening all over again when it comes to AI? I see three main reasons. Firstly, conservation groups consider AI as a mere technological tool that is innovative and can tremendously enhance the operation of nature conservation governance. Secondly, conservation groups fail to recognize that the AI processes are still business products owned by a very few giant corporations with a total monopoly on the powerhouse of AI— the big data. Lastly, conservation groups do not recognize that AI is resource-expensive, and the absence of AI is not necessarily the main challenge for many communities to conserve nature’s commons.

These limitations of big conservation groups’ position about AI should be seriously addressed. Members, supporters, and patrons of conservation NGOs should know better that AI isn’t just an innovative technological tool that state or non-state actors can use to implement nature conservation interventions; it’s much more than that. AI brings a very high level and extent of automation to the decision-making process. It will determine who gets to decide about what interventions are necessary and when and how to intervene.

To date, the main powerhouses of AI— the Big Data are owned by invasive, non-transparent, and unaccountable corporations who have established their monopoly in the business. So, AI has all the inherent biases against marginalized communities in every nation and innate capacities to be used against marginalized communities (e.g., indigenous nations, artisanal fishers, and vulnerable gender groups) whose livelihoods practices offer protection to nature against unsustainable extractive industries. So, without ensuring the democratization of AI, it will be dangerous for vulnerable communities to welcome it in the management of environmental commons to which their life, livelihoods, and cultures are deeply connected. Deployment of AI without securing direct control over the data by communities can undo decades of efforts in environmental justice; and participatory and inclusive governance of nature’s commons.

AI is resources-expensive. Nature conservation management is doable with the less; it will be counter-productive to welcome such a resource-expensive process indiscriminately. The efficiency in nature conservation governance promised by Artificial Intelligence is helpful for indigenous and local communities only if they have the political power, opportunity of direct participation, and authority to control such an automated decision-making process. Imagine artisanal fishers or indigenous communities who aren’t allowed to participate in governance directly. Then outside actors bring AI into the scene without ensuring democratization of the ownership of the big data. In that case, AI will be used to justify injustices against communities.

Conservation groups should make it very clear that when they talk about Artificial Intelligence, big data, data sensing, and machine learning— they recognize AI as a highly automated decision-making process with inherent biases and inherent power to harm communities. Secondly, conservation groups should prioritize democratizing such processes before deploying AI in nature conservation. And lastly, it should be recognized by conservation groups that democratization of AI does not only mean that communities have the right to know or see (access) about what’s going on. Instead, it means communities own the big data, and the communities have total control over the processes related to AI.

Featured Photo: Fishers and honey collectors in the Sundarbans— the largest continuous mangrove forest in the world. Photo by the author.

Integrating SDG14 and Blue Economy into the next Five-Year Plan in Bangladesh

Recently, after being asked by the officials of the Planning Commission in Bangladesh, Professor Dr. Kazi Ahsan Habib of Aquatic Bio-resource Lab at the Sher-e-Bangla Agricultural University, I have submitted a Concept Note about how the government can integrate SDG14 and Blue Economy into the next Fiver-Year Plan. Following is a summary of the Concept Note.

As a highly climate-vulnerable country, Bangladesh needs to focus on building resilient communities. To do that, particularly in Low Elevation Coastal Zones (LECZ), SDG14 targets and Blue Economy offer windows for the public agencies to mobilize resources, as both are the priorities of the public agencies for the last couple of years. But the progress made in the Blue Economy sector is very negligible. It is not even integrated into any long-term plan yet. In this context, the next 8th Five-Year Plan (2021-2025) is an excellent opportunity to integrate SDG14 and Blue Economy in national planning.

Healthy coastal and marine ecosystems and protection of biodiversity could be the main powerhouses to build resilient communities through creating new job opportunities and social benefits. There are many options for people-based solutions where it’s possible to do more with less in coastal and marine conservation. So, for Bangladesh, mobilizing resources is not the main challenge. Rather the most important tasks are to building capacity in terms of knowledge, trained human resources, and policies towards integrating Blue Economy into long-term national planning such as the next FYP.

Goal 14 of the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals; “Conserve and sustainably use the oceans, seas and marine resources for sustainable development,” can be the best available source of framework for a national pathway to incorporate blue economy in the 8th FYP because SDG 14 targets are focused on increasing knowledge and research capacities as well as the transfer of technologies. The public agencies already have a Monitoring and Evaluation Framework of SDGs. If necessary, a separate Monitoring and Evaluation Framework of Blue Economy can be adopted once setting the targets are done.

Based on recommendations made at the 2nd Marine Conservation and Blue Economic Symposium held in Dhaka in 2017, we think the targets mentioned above should be included in the 8th FYP to progress towards a ‘blue economy’ in Bangladesh.

Major Core Targets: Building an Ocean-literate citizenry and reviving coastal economies through the restoration of ecosystems.

Poverty: To reduce extreme poverty in the coastal region and create good jobs for underemployed populations, resources should be allocated to restore Chakoria Sundarbans and other ecologically collapsed or degraded habitats through private land-owner conservation schemes.

Fisheries: To reduce extreme poverty and offer good jobs through leveraging fisheries sub-sector, first, public investment should be mobilized to make sure that millions of fishers either own their necessary boats and gears or they are employed as fish workers. Secondly, Similar to large-scale industrial fishing, marine commercial fishing also should be recognized as a formal economic sector. Taxations should be extended to it (before that, a classification and certification process need to be completed to identify and classify recreational, subsistence, artisanal, and commercial fishing); and third, initiating the process for sustainable certification of marine industrial fishing with any of the global certification consortium.

Transportation and communication: First, building necessary infrastructures and implementing Ballast Water Management in all seaports. Secondly, ensuring all coastal embankments, roads, and protection infrastructures comply with ‘living shoreline’ standards; third, reclaiming and maintaining the intra-coastal waterways in the central and western coast and the greater Ganges-Brahmaputra-Meghna basin areas.

Environmental sustainability: Creation of an autonomous institution to operate a public grant mechanism for coastal and marine research and extension. It will ensure that public agencies have continuous knowledge and community support through the works of a next-generation professional workforce in participatory conservation.

Urban settlements: In light of rising sea levels and extreme weather events, there should be sectorial targets to re-build coastal and riparian urban settlements as ‘Ocean friendly’ using new and modified public and private infrastructures.

Energy and infrastructure: A reasonably ambitious target should be set for marine renewable energy generation.

We hope our proposal will be helpful for the Planning Commission to integrate SDGs and Blue Economy into the 8th Five-Year Plan more effectively. We also call on the Civil Society Organizations, Educational and Research Institutions to work together to help public agencies achieve a sustainable blue economy.

Why we need media ethics for Ocean communicators?

Throughout the last decade, topics related to the climate crisis, marine ecosystems and biodiversity have increasingly secured their place in the mainstream media (MSM) coverage. The climate and Ocean coverage is not only presenting the bad news, the seriousness of the ecological crisis but also focused on reporting marine conservation efforts. With widening opportunities to get the conservation message across to the public, activities related to communications and public relations are getting rapidly increasing attention within marine conservation organizations.

MSM & MARINE CONSERVATION

We can notice broadly three types of engagement between MSM and marine conservation groups. Conservation groups see the media as the partner, and/or tool, and oftentimes they find media as their critic.

Conservation groups like to see the media as a partner in conservation. Because, how and to what extents media cover an issue significantly define and shape the public discourse on that issue, and conservation organizations clearly understand that. As media is supposed to serve the public interest and common good, conservation organizations see ‘common ground’ with media and reach out to them as potential ‘partner’. This partnership approach serves them well to manufacture consent in public for conservation and mainstream and strengthen the support for conservation in public discourses.
In many cases, conservation organizations consider media as a ‘tool’ to get the words out in the public about their own institution, or projects, or to reach out to their targeted audience for fundraising, or to reach out to policymakers and other stakeholders for advocacy or engagement. In these cases, media oftentimes, play the role of ‘neutral’ validators of conservation groups and/or of their works.
Sometimes, conservation groups find media as the watchdog on behalf of the public, or a critic of their institutions and/or efforts.

THE CHALLENGE

While coverage of Ocean and conservation in the MSM is ‘getting better’, internalizing this as a news agenda is not happening much in legacy media outlets. Globally, MSM has a lack of institutional capacity and editorial priority to cover marine conservation related affairs as part of its regular agenda. In many cases, the novelty of the subjects to the newsroom, and high resource needs to operate in remote coastal and marine areas are also restrictive. So, oftentimes MSM coverage of Ocean conservation is mostly based on the updates delivered by the conservationists themselves.

This practice deprives Ocean conservation and conservation groups of objective reporting and critical coverage which are cornerstones of transparency, accountability, and public trust for any crisis sector. So, I think, strong and dynamic ethical practices are imperative to address this challenge.

QUESTION OF PUBLIC TRUST

MSM is useful for conservation communication because of the public trust that legacy media traditionally enjoys. The traditional perception is that media covers current affairs to serve the interest of all citizens, and it is independent of the undue influence of outside actors, political parties or conservation groups, for instances. Therefore, when ecological crisis or conservation efforts are represented in media as a consequence of any types of relationship between conservation groups and media organizations, it is an imperative that, the very relationship do not cross essential ethical standards of PR and/or journalism in a way that impede the media’s role as the fourth estate that makes other entities accountable to public.

People should be able to rely on that the stories are done independently by journalists (not serving the institutional interest of conservation organizations as such) who are committed to serving only the public interest and pursuing truth through facts.

Most probably, the unquestionably approving coverage by influential global media outlets of top-down declaration of very large marine protected areas are one of the recent examples of what happens if media does not independently and objectively examine each case on its merits, rather commit itself to the cause of certain conservation groups as such and get busy in advocacy.

Within the echo chamber of social and/or political progressiveness, to which the conservation community is a part, by and large, it might be a little hard to accept that there is an ongoing erosion of public trust in mainstream media throughout the world. But it is real. It is happening because a large portion of the global population perceive that the MSM has lost its traditional editorial independence and objectivity to various liberal progressives’ ‘projects’ such as climate action and nature conservation, and are closely associated with ‘the establishment’, which they identify as ‘elite’ and ‘liberal’. This is not uncommon in other crisis sectors too. There is past evidence of the compromised ethical standard of development communication and journalism in other sectors, and reduced public trust in media covering the various global crisis, humanitarian issues and so on.

But, we need the public trust in mainstream media, because no matter how much a conservation group has sway over social media and it is own PR platforms that are not a replacement for independent journalism. Because what the conservation groups are saying is already expected from them by the public and the public generally do not perceive those contents as ‘independent’. While we should continue to strongly advocate for conservation, we should not make it difficult for MSM to do their job that is, informing the debate with facts and making all voices heard.

Therefore, whether coverage of marine conservation efforts by journalists is the result of sponsored/ embedded arrangements or not, there should be some ethical codes on behalf of the conservation communicators to let the journalistic contents be produced independently with objectivity and neutrality needed in the persuasion of the truth.

BASIC PREMISES

The basic premises of my observations are;

This has to be presumed that the activities of conservation groups and the cause of conservation are not always necessarily compatible as such. That is to say, conservation groups should not prima facie considered as agencies who can do no harm through their policies and practices.
Conservation groups should remain open to this idea that like any other crisis sector agencies (for example the development agencies) their activities and projects are subject to public scrutiny and accountability through the mainstream media.
While the partnership between MSM and conservation groups is necessary for the cause of conservation that should not stand in the way of the MSM playing its original role as the agent of the public.
Conservation groups more particularly the conservation communicators should have the opportunity to take a proactive role in enabling the media to maintain its independence while working as a partner in conservation or any other modes.
The balance of being an enabler of media in covering marine conservation efforts and keeping the public trust intact into what is being reported can be best facilitated by adhering to an ethical code.

Exactly how such a guideline will reshape the modes and modalities of engagement between media and marine conservation groups are not clear yet.

But recently I co-authored an opinion piece (Erickson et al., 2019) proposing about what are issues we need to address through such and guideline. In the opinion piece published by Frontiers in Marine Science, we have explained why we think “professional ethical guideline for marine conservation communication is necessary. We also report on discussions from a focus group titled, “Overcoming ethical challenges in marine conservation communication” held at the 5th International Marine Conservation Congress (IMCC5).”

Please read the article here https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fmars.2019.00304/full
The supplementary table attached with the article has some ideas about a potential media-ethics code for Ocean conservation communicators.

Reference

Erickson LE, Snow S, Uddin MK and Savoie GM (2019) The Need for a Code of Professional Ethics for Marine Conservation Communicators. Front. Mar. Sci. 6:304. doi: 10.3389/fmars.2019.00304

What are the riverine fisherfolks thinking about?

When it comes to explaining the poor state of nature-based artisanal and subsistence livelihoods of communities, many conservation and development folks in countries like Bangladesh or India or Nepal have one mantra they think fits all the complexities; the tragedy of the commons. Experts use this doctrine to explain any such challenges — whether in forests or in the wild-caught fisheries.

Generally, this explanation without compelling evidence works as a justification for top-down interventions that come later in the process. Later, comes the conservation interventions embedded with the heavy-handed enforcement by security agencies that disregard the well-being of marginalized communities and mostly focused on securing supply for nature’s goods for the urban consumers with suitable purchasing power.

To my experience, Hilsa fishery in the Bay of Bengal and Ganges-Brahmaputra-Meghna watershed is such a case, particularly in Bangladesh. About 50-60 percent of global Hilsa (Tenualosa ilisha) catch is reported from Bangladesh (Rahman, Emran, & Islam, 2010). This is the world’s largest tropical estuarine fishery.

Hilsa Fisher Meghna 2 — ‘It’s humiliating’, says Nasir Patwari about the economic struggle and uncertainty in Hilsa fishery. From Haimchar, Chandpur District on the Meghna river, he doesn’t see any future for his children in the fishery.

Despite the extreme poverty among the artisanal and subsistence fishing communities, Hilsa conservation in Bangladesh relies on heavy-handed enforcement of laws that oftentimes impose disproportionate punishments. Imagine, a fisher who don’t have anything to feed his family might get one-year imprisonment for fishing during fishing ban seasons. Such disproportionate punishment started at the beginning of this decade.

For instance, only from 2011-2012 to 2013-2014 fiscal year, executive ‘courts’ embedded with law enforcing agencies imposed 2,462 prison sentences and fined 106,509 USD to law-breaking fisherfolks under Jatka (juvenile) and brood Hilsa conservation activities (Islam, Mohammed, & Ali, 2016).

Currently, the annual 22-day long ban season to protect brood Hilsa is underway throughout the country.

Earlier this month, I’ve volunteered to take part in CSO monitoring of this ban season in Meghna river, and currently traveling in Brahmaputra river basin for the same. We are talking to fisherfolks and other river-dependent communities to understand what are their recent experiences with conservation and what are their thoughts about community-stewardship of riverine ecosystems. Before that, earlier this year, I led a study to understand human dimensions of Hilsa conservation in the context of community-stewardship and trans-boundary cooperation among countries sharing Ganges-Meghna-Brahmaputra river system. We collected data mostly through semi-structured and non-structured qualitative interviews, and participant observation.

Hilsa boat meghna 2 — Earlier in this month, that was the last of day of the open season for Hilsa fishing.

The results of CSO-led monitoring and the previous study are expected to be published in the due process. Both of the works are part of the Trans-Boundary Rivers of South Asia (TROSA) project’s activities in Bangladesh. I was invited by two local NGOs to take part; Gana Unnayan Kendra and Center for Natural Resources Studies (CNRS) who are partners with TROSA.

In the meantime, I’d like to share a few notes based on my learning and observations. I’ve already shared these following notes with colleagues from India, Nepal, Myanmar, Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia and other Asian and European countries at the annual learning forum of TROSA in Kathmandu, Nepal from 24 to 25 July 2018. (See also this web-story on GWP’s site)

NOTES

1. The fisherfolks explain that despite very low income they don’t plan to stop fishing because fishing is their traditional (Chouddo purus) ‘life’ (Jebon), and all other aspects of their lives are interconnected with their fishing identity. In differently worded statements, most of them echoed the attitude that they can’t think about any other livelihood options and lifestyle other than fishing because this is what their ‘jaat’ (inheritance), and this is in their blood; diversely paraphrased Bengali dialects they have used can be translated into ‘this is who we are’.

2. The fisherfolks don’t think ‘the tragedy of the commons’ can explain the process behind the decline of the fishery. Most of the respondents identify ‘problems’ in the supply chain and conservation regime. They think fisheries conservation are reluctant to engage and utilize community’s readiness to conserve the rive- commons including fisheries. A notable number of the fisherfolks indicates that fisheries conservation are not willing to look into complex issues related to the migratory character of Hilsa fish and is not prepared for delivering conservation-benefits to local communities.

3. About all of the fishermen said, by ‘conservation of fisheries’ they understand ‘gun’ (bonduk) meaning police and other law enforcing agencies they encounter. They clearly determine that the ‘slow revival’ of the fishery is not bringing any significant benefits to them as the old supply chain is still in place.

4. Traditional fishing families blame diversion of water for irrigation both in Bangladesh and upstream countries for the poor state of fish habitat, and they also think rising use of synthetic fertilizers, pesticide, and insecticide in agriculture are to blame for dwindling catch.

5. Fisherfolks say they were always willing to be the stewards of fisheries biodiversity (nijeder ta nijeder e rokkha korte hobe), but they also need to feed their families.

6. When it comes to their expected state of community well-being, they place the highest value on spending time with families, ability to afford education for their children, and capacity to continue their generational fishing occupation. When asked what will be the ‘most rewarding outcome’ from a potential revival of the health of the riverine ecosystem and the Hilsa fishery, a large number of them said they ‘will be able to spend more time with their families’ because they will not be needing to go for fishing trips throughout day and night. Most of them said they can ‘die in peace’ by knowing that ‘the future of their children is secured.

The heavy-handed and disproportionate law enforcement neither take into account this strong environmental ethic that defines these traditional fishing communities nor care about their well-being.

Now it’s the responsibility of local CSOs, NGOs to explore more about human dimensions of such fisheries conservation, to gather more insights into the river basin communities’ readiness for the stewardship of environmental commons.

Photos: All photos taken by me

References:

Rahman, M. A., Emran, M., & Islam, M. S. (2010). Hilsa fisheries management in Bangladesh. Regional Consultation on Preparation of Management Plan for Hilsa Fisheries. Chittagong.

Islam, M. M., Mohammed, E. Y., & Ali, L. (2016). Economic incentives for sustainable hilsa fishing in Bangladesh: An analysis of the legal and institutional framework. Marine Policy, 68, 8–22. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.marpol.2016.02.005