Montañita is a place many people intend to pass through. They come for surf, sun, music, and a stretch of Ecuador’s coast known for surf, music, and its free-spirited nature. Some stay longer. They open small businesses, learn the workings of the communes, put children into local schools, and begin to notice what visitors often do not see: the sewage that is not properly treated, the public works that arrive without answers, the land whose ownership becomes uncertain, and the turtles whose nesting beaches are treated as available ground. For a woman from northern Poland, the change of country became something beyond expatriate life. Ecuador was where she made a home, ran a hostel, raised two daughters, and became part of Santa Elena’s disputes and loyalties. Monika Silva Koniuszek, who was found dead on June 8th at her home in Montañita, was 41. The circumstances of her death remain under investigation. In the weeks before she died, she had spoken publicly of warnings that there was a plan to kill her. She had alerted authorities and sought protection. After her death, Polish diplomats, the European Union, human-rights groups, and the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights called for a thorough and independent inquiry. Her public work began with local problems. Montañita’s inadequate sewage system troubled her. So did the way decisions about beaches, mangroves, public land, and services seemed to benefit the same networks of power. She came to see poverty, malnutrition, poor infrastructure, and environmental damage as linked by…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Williams electric blue day gecko is a small Tanzanian reptile whose recovery shows what focused conservation can do, reports Mongabay contributor, Manuel Fonseca. Once heavily collected for Europe’s pet trade, the species is now rebounding because pressure from trade has eased, captive breeding has reduced demand for wild animals, and local people are helping restore the forest it needs. The gecko (Lygodactylus williamsi) lives in only two small forest reserves in central Tanzania, Kimboza and Ruvu, and depends almost entirely on screwpines for shelter, food, basking and breeding. That dependence made it vulnerable. Collectors cut down screwpines to reach the geckos, and by 2009, researchers estimated that tens of thousands had been taken from the wild. The species was later listed as critically endangered, and international commercial trade was banned under CITES, the global wildlife trade convention, in 2017. The work on the ground has mattered just as much. In Kimboza, forest ecologist Charles Kilawe and people from surrounding villages have worked with rangers to remove invasive Spanish cedar, which had spread through the reserve and displaced native habitat. Since 2016, they have cut down nearly 100,000 cedar trees, reduced forest fires by around 80%, and planted about 5,000 native trees a year. Those efforts are helping the gecko’s population return toward earlier levels. They are also improving habitat for other wildlife, including blue monkeys (Cercopithecus mitis), white-chested alethes (Chamaetylas fuelleborni) and trumpeter hornbills (Bycanistes bucinator). For species with tiny ranges, conservation can be very specific work: Keep trade pressure…This article was originally published on Mongabay

In the American South of the late 1950s, segregation was part of the daily architecture. Airports had separate facilities. Restaurants barred Black customers or served them apart. Schools, buses, waiting rooms, and lunch counters carried the same instructions. The system depended on law, custom, and the expectation that most white people would accommodate it. Resistance often began with small acts that carried real costs. A professor might drive arrested students back to campus. A family might refuse to send its children to segregated schools. A group of faculty members might walk toward a restaurant door together and be met in the parking lot by men who intended to stop them. The work required patience, and it also required a willingness to be arrested, disliked, and misunderstood. Peter Klopfer, who died on June 5 at 95, spent nearly seven decades at Duke University as a zoologist, teacher, and builder of institutions. He helped develop behavioral ecology, studied mother-offspring bonding, and co-founded the Duke Lemur Center, which became the world’s largest collection of lemurs outside Madagascar. He was also the named plaintiff in a Supreme Court case that extended the Sixth Amendment right to a speedy trial to state courts. The civil-rights defendant and the lemur scientist were the same man, formed by the same habits of attention and conscience. He was born in Berlin in 1930 and raised in a German immigrant family in the United States. He attended Friends schools and later studied at UCLA and Yale. At UCLA he…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Founder’s Briefs: An occasional series where Mongabay founder Rhett Ayers Butler shares analysis, perspectives and story summaries. For the Karajarri people of Kimberley in northwestern Australia, the coastline, reefs, wetlands, beaches and desert-edge country form one estate, held through law, memory, work and obligation. That relationship now has new recognition, reports Mongabay’s John Cannon. In March, the Karajarri dedicated Karajarri Jurarr Ngurra, Australia’s first Sea Country Indigenous Protected Area. It covers 237,489 hectares (nearly 587,000 acres) of marine and coastal ecosystems, including part of Malumpurr, the Karajarri name for Eighty Mile Beach. The area is rich in life. Flatback turtles (Natator depressus) nest along the shore of Malumpurr. Migratory birds use the wetlands. Sawfish swim through nearby waters. These species are often recorded through science, surveys and management plans. The Karajarri know them through long presence, close observation and responsibility passed across generations. The new protected area builds on three decades of legal and political work. The Karajarri first secured recognition of their land claims. They then established a land-based Indigenous Protected Area and developed a ranger program. Sea Country protection is the next step. It gives formal weight to an existing relationship. Jesse Ala’i, formerly the Land and Sea Country manager for the Karajarri Traditional Lands Association, put it simply: “In order to have healthy Country, you need healthy people.” The reverse is also true. “Healthy people need healthy Country,” he added. Australia’s Indigenous Protected Areas now account for more than half of the country’s progress toward protecting 30%…This article was originally published on Mongabay

On the far north coast of New South Wales, the old rainforest had mostly disappeared. The Big Scrub once covered about 75,000 hectares of rich basalt country, a lowland subtropical forest of figs, vines, palms and fruit doves. By the time modern conservationists took stock of it, little more than one percent remained, divided among small patches on farms, roadsides and reserves. Weeds pressed in from the edges. Cattle and clearing had done the rest. What remained needed legal protection, science, money, landholders, seedlings and years of follow-through. It also needed someone who could make committees matter. Rainforest restoration can sound gentle, a matter of saplings and goodwill. In the Big Scrub it required persistence of a less decorative kind. Private landholders had to be brought in. Government agencies had to be pressed. Botanists, bush regenerators, nursery owners, donors and volunteers had to keep working together after the first enthusiasm had passed. The work was local, technical and repetitive. It suited Tony Parkes. Tony Parkes. Photo by Kim Honan / ABC North Coast He came to it late. Born in Hobart, he grew up close to bush and estuary. Later came science, business management and investment banking. He retired at 56 after a successful career in Sydney, and might have chosen a comfortable retirement. Instead he and his wife Rowena bought land in the Northern Rivers, learned the history of the Big Scrub and began planting rainforest on their own property. A private restoration project became a second public life.…This article was originally published on Mongabay

  Satellite alerts suggest deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon is continuing to fall, putting the country on pace for one of its lowest forest-clearing years in more than a decade. The decline comes as climate scientists warn that a likely strong El Niño could still bring a difficult fire season, even if clear-cutting remains low. New data from Brazil’s National Institute for Space Research, or INPE, show that its DETER alert system detected 370 square kilometers (143 square miles) of deforestation in the Amazon in May. That was down from 960 square kilometers in May 2025, a decline of about 61%. Data from INPE’s DETER and Imazon’s SAD detection systems showing deforestation in the Legal Amazon (“Amazonia”) from Aug 1 to May 31 since 2008. Image by Mongabay Data from INPE’s DETER and Imazon’s SAD detection systems showing deforestation in the Legal Amazon (“Amazonia”). Image by Mongabay May is an important month in the Amazon deforestation calendar. It often marks the transition toward the drier season, when forest clearing and burning tend to increase across parts of the southern and eastern Amazon. Monthly satellite figures can vary because of cloud cover, timing and the way alerts are processed, but the latest data extend a longer downward trend. Over the past 12 months, DETER registered 3,182 square kilometers of deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon. That compares with 4,633 square kilometers during the same period a year earlier. The total is the lowest for any 12-month period in the DETER record dating…This article was originally published on Mongabay

At the mouth of the Carmel River, a teacher set up a spotting scope and let a boy look through it. The birds were the first thing he saw. The habit of looking came next. He saw that the world could be understood, though not quickly, and that its order did not reveal itself to those in a hurry. Later he would say he never recovered from that experience. The remark was light, but also true. A childhood near Monterey, with woods behind the house and the Pacific within walking distance, gave him the subject of his life. Robert “Bob” Ricklefs, who died on June 7th, a day after his 83rd birthday, spent that life asking how living things came to be where they are, and why they lived as they did. He became one of the most influential ecologists of his generation: an ornithologist, biogeographer, theorist, teacher, author and member of the National Academy of Sciences. His textbooks, Ecology and The Economy of Nature, shaped how thousands of students first encountered the field. Their authority came from clarity. He could take a tangled subject and find a usable path through it. Birds were his beginning. As a boy he joined weekend outings with the local Audubon Society and gained the status, modest but real, of a child with a serious interest. At Stanford he briefly followed the spirit of the space age into engineering, then returned to biology. At the University of Pennsylvania he entered the circle of Robert…This article was originally published on Mongabay

When Rainforest Action Network began in 1985, it had little of what usually makes an organization powerful. It had no large budget, no legal department, no reliable access to politicians, and no formal way to force global corporations or development banks to change. It had Randy Hayes, a wide activist network, a way to connect distant forest destruction to everyday choices, and a willingness to use tactics that many mainstream environmental groups avoided. David Benac’s new book, Rainforest Radicals: A History of Rainforest Action Network and Transnational Organizing, tells the story of how that combination became effective. RAN’s early campaigns targeted Burger King over rainforest beef, True Geothermal in Hawai‘i, the World Bank over development projects, and Mitsubishi over tropical timber. These were different fights, involving different places, institutions, and coalitions. Together, they show how a small San Francisco-based group helped bring tropical deforestation, Indigenous rights, and corporate accountability into late twentieth-century environmental politics. Rainforest Radicals: A History of Rainforest Action Network and Transnational Organizing Benac, an environmental and public historian of the postwar United States, came to the subject indirectly. He was researching timber-industry history in the Pacific Northwest when he encountered the MacMillan Bloedel papers and a grassroots campaign against clear-cutting in British Columbia’s coastal rainforests. RAN appeared in the archival trail. That led him to Hayes, RAN’s co-founder, then to a larger oral-history project with activists, allies, and contemporaries. The result is a history built around interviews, archives, and a close look at how people organize when…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Founder’s Briefs: An occasional series where Mongabay founder Rhett Ayers Butler shares analysis, perspectives and story summaries. Cambodia is preparing to reintroduce tigers after nearly two decades without a confirmed wild population. The plan is ambitious, and many of its basic assumptions remain contested, report Mongabay India’s Arathi Menon and Mongabay contributor Andy Ball. The last confirmed tiger sighting in Cambodia came from a camera trap in 2007. By 2016, tigers had been declared extinct in the country. The animals were lost after years of poaching, snaring, habitat degradation, and trade in tiger parts. Those pressures remain. Cambodia’s Indochinese leopard (Panthera pardus delacouri) was declared functionally extinct in 2023, and snares continue to threaten large mammals. The proposed reintroduction would use Bengal tigers (Panthera tigris) from India, released into Kravanh National Park in the Cardamom Mountains. Supporters of the program see a chance to restore an apex predator to one of Cambodia’s largest remaining forest landscapes. India has rebuilt its own tiger numbers over several decades, and Cambodia has approved a tiger action plan. A soft-release enclosure has already been built. The unresolved questions are ecological and political. Tigers need abundant prey. One 2020 study found only a low probability that the proposed landscape could support 25 adult tigers, though it might support a small founder population of five tigers. However, small populations face inbreeding risk and require sustained management. Wild pigs in the landscape may form much of the prey base, but experts disagree on whether current prey data…This article was originally published on Mongabay

When Catherine Craig first went to Gombe in 1972, she was not thinking about silk. She was an undergraduate in a four-seat plane with Jane Goodall, flying over the Tanzanian forest where Goodall’s work on chimpanzees was changing how scientists understood animals. Craig spent six months there, learning to recognize individual chimpanzees and helping track mothers and infants through the steep woodland above Lake Tanganyika. The forest stayed with her. So did the sight of people living nearby with few choices, and the later realization that even forests thought to be protected could disappear. Her path back to conservation was indirect. Craig became a biologist of spiders and silk, earning a Ph.D. in ecology and evolution from Cornell and later joining the biology faculty at Yale. For two decades, she studied webs, foraging behavior, insect flight, and the properties of silk. It was work at the level of fibers, mechanics, and evolution. Yet the question that had formed at Gombe remained: how could habitat be protected where people had few ways to earn money? The answer she pursued was both plain and difficult. If farmers could earn income from native silk-producing caterpillars and the plants that fed them, then habitat might become something worth tending. The idea drew on her scientific expertise, but it also required skills that science had not taught her: product design, marketing, patience, and the ability to listen across languages, cultures, and expectations shaped by past disappointments. Borocera cajani Vinson, 1863 family Lasiocampidae. Adult moth, caterpillar…This article was originally published on Mongabay

From above, an intact forest can look reassuringly complete. A satellite image may show an unbroken canopy, a block of green still standing amid plantations, roads or logged land. For many conservation programs, that view has become the starting point for measurement. If the canopy remains, the forest is often treated as if much of its ecological value remains as well. The forest itself may tell a more complicated story. Birds, insects, frogs and primates divide the day among them. Some call at dawn, others at night. Some occupy narrow frequency bands; others fill the background with a steady rasp. A forest that looks intact can still lose part of this living structure. The canopy may close after logging. Carbon may remain on a balance sheet. The animal community may not return in the same form. Garnet Pitta. Photo by Hanyrol Hanyzan Ahmad Sah A new paper in Global Change Biology, by Zuzana Buřivalová and colleagues, examines that problem through sound. The study describes the Soundscape Baselines Project, an effort to record the acoustic signatures of some of the world’s remaining intact forests before those reference points become harder to find. The idea is straightforward. To know whether a forest has changed, one needs to know what it sounded like before the change. That baseline is not only a technical convenience. It is a guard against a familiar problem in conservation: each generation tends to accept the nature it first encountered as normal. Daniel Pauly called this shifting baseline syndrome…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Founder’s Briefs: An occasional series where Mongabay founder Rhett Ayers Butler shares analysis, perspectives and story summaries. The platypus offers a useful lesson in conservation: before acting, it helps to know where the animal still lives, and where risks are growing. Australia’s best-known oddity is also difficult to count, reports contributor Paul Harvey for Mongabay. It feeds around dawn and dusk, spends much of its life underwater in rivers, and leaves few obvious signs. That makes its decline harder to measure and harder to manage. The IUCN Red List classifies the species as near threatened, based on an estimate of about 50,000 animals, though researchers say the true number is uncertain. That uncertainty has become more important as pressure on rivers increases. Drought can shrink the pools where platypuses feed. Bushfires can damage riverbanks and nearby vegetation. Floods can inundate burrows before animals can escape. Pollution from wastewater, mining, industry, and urban runoff can reduce the aquatic invertebrates that make up much of their diet. There is room for optimism because scientists have now developed a framework for deciding when to help platypuses where they are and when animals may need to be moved. Zoos are also preparing for a clearer role in emergencies, including temporary care for animals stranded by drought, fire, or flood. Citizen science can help close the information gap. Projects that map sightings show where platypuses are still being seen. Environmental DNA, collected from water samples, can detect their presence without needing to trap or even…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Tuna offer a useful case study for World Ocean Day because their recovery has come through the least sentimental parts of conservation: quotas, enforcement, stock assessments, and years of difficult diplomacy. By the early 2010s, several tuna stocks were in serious trouble. Atlantic bluefin had become a marker of overfishing. Pacific bluefin had fallen to a small fraction of its historic abundance. The risk was ecological and commercial. Governments were looking at the possible collapse of one of the world’s most valuable fisheries. The response was slow, contested, and often technical. Regional fisheries bodies tightened catch limits, improved monitoring, began adopting automated harvest rules, and expanded electronic catch-documentation systems to make illegal and unreported fishing harder to hide. Fleets built around high catches had to accept lower quotas. The politics were difficult because the countries involved often had competing economic interests. That is part of what makes the outcome worth studying. Atlantic bluefin are showing strong signs of recovery, backed by decades of tagging, catch data, and population modeling. Pacific bluefin reached a key rebuilding target years ahead of schedule. Across commercial tuna fisheries, a much larger share of global catch now comes from stocks assessed as being at healthy levels. This does not mean the oceans have returned to abundance. Some stocks, particularly Indian Ocean yellowfin, remain in poor condition. Rebuilding to 20% of historic biomass is a critical scientific milestone for safety, not total restoration. Bycatch of sharks, turtles, and seabirds remains a serious problem, and some regional…This article was originally published on Mongabay

The short-eared dog is one of the Amazon’s least-known carnivores. In Bolivia, it’s also one of the hardest to find. The species has a fox-like snout, small rounded ears, partially webbed toes, and a long bushy tail that often drags on the forest floor. In Spanish, it’s sometimes called perro fantasma, or ghost dog, a name that reflects how rarely even field biologists encounter it. A long-running camera-trap study has now brought the species into sharper focus, reports Iván Paredes Tamayo. Over more than two decades, researchers recorded the short-eared dog in Bolivia’s lowland Amazonian forests, in piedmont forests near the Andes, and in large protected and Indigenous-managed landscapes. The results suggest the animal may be present in more places than earlier records showed. That is useful evidence, although it doesn’t make the species common. It remains scarce, elusive, and closely linked to well-preserved forest. For conservation groups, land managers, and funders, the findings suggest the short-eared dog depends on large, connected areas of habitat. Small forest fragments are unlikely to provide what it needs. Its presence can help identify places where forests are still functioning well, especially where protected areas and Indigenous territories keep intact habitat at scale. The finding also shows why long-term monitoring matters. Rare species are easy to miss in short surveys. A camera trap may sit for months without recording one. A study that runs across years, landscapes, and management types can reveal patterns that would otherwise remain hidden. The short-eared dog will probably never…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Thomas Crowther begins his book with a snakebite that was not, in any conventional sense, dangerous. The danger came from interpretation. A misidentified species, a surge of fear, and a body that responded as if the threat were real: numbness spread, panic intensified, and the situation escalated until a second opinion dissolved it almost instantly. The episode is more than an anecdote. It sets the terms of Nature’s Echo, a book that treats cause and effect not as linear sequences so much as loops that can amplify themselves in either direction. Thomas Crowther That idea—feedback loops as the underlying architecture of the natural world—is the organizing principle of the book. Crowther traces it from cosmology to ecology to human psychology, moving across scales with considerable ambition. The early chapters move outward from the origin of matter, suggesting that the same reinforcing processes that allowed stars to form also underpin biological evolution and social behavior. It is an ambitious framing. At its best, it brings a sense of coherence to subjects that are often treated separately. At times, the scope of the framework requires readers to travel across very different domains and scales of thought. The structure reflects that expansiveness. The table of contents alone signals the range: from “Cause and Effect” and “Feedback Loops” through “Resilience and Tipping Points” and into “The Story We Tell Ourselves.” The progression is deliberate. Crowther starts with physical systems, moves into ecological stability, and then into the social and psychological domains where perception begins…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Founder’s Briefs: An occasional series where Mongabay founder Rhett Ayers Butler shares analysis, perspectives and story summaries. The European wildcat is not one conservation story, but several. In the Czech Republic’s Lusatian Mountains, the signs are encouraging. Conservationists have found a male and female wildcat, which they named Jonáš and Tonka, the first recorded in the region in nearly a century. Tonka has since given birth to at least three kittens. For a species once pushed out by habitat loss, persecution, and the spread of domestic cats, that is a meaningful foothold, reports contributor Sean Mowbray for Mongabay. The animal itself is easy to overlook. The European wildcat (Felis silvestris) is roughly the size of a large housecat and lives mostly out of sight in forests. The species, found across Europe, is listed as least concern on the IUCN Red List. That label can make the picture look simpler than it is. Yet its fortunes vary sharply from place to place. In parts of Central Europe, wildcats are moving back into former habitat as forests recover and hunting pressure has fallen. Germany and France show what can happen when habitat protection, legal safeguards, and time line up. Italy, too, has seen enough progress for the species to be downlisted nationally. Elsewhere, the picture is much more fragile. In Scotland, the wildcat was declared functionally extinct in the wild in 2018. A breeding and release program in Cairngorms National Park, in the Scottish Highlands, is now trying to rebuild a population…This article was originally published on Mongabay