Soon after becoming president and chief executive of the Wildlife Conservation Society, Adam Falk visited the giraffe keeper at the Bronx Zoo. What struck Falk was the source of the keeper’s commitment. If a giraffe needed help in the middle of the night, he said, the keeper would come in because of his bond with the animal. Falk recognized something familiar. Before joining WCS, he had been a theoretical physicist, a professor at Johns Hopkins University, president of Williams College, and president of the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation. Academics often pursue highly specialized work that matters deeply to them. A university leader has to support those individual efforts while helping the institution work toward shared goals. Falk found much the same challenge at WCS: leading people whose motivation is rooted in the work itself. Adam Falk with Joe Nappi, a Senior Keeper in the Mammal Department, and a Giraffe at the Bronx Zoo. Photo courtesy of WCS. He took over WCS in July 2025 without professional experience in zoology or conservation. That was unusual for the head of an institution founded in 1895, which now operates four zoos and an aquarium in New York alongside conservation programs in more than 50 countries. His first year gave him an outsider’s view of a field with its own history and assumptions. One of his early observations was that conservation work involves people as much as animals. Public campaigns often focus on wildlife, especially large and familiar species. Field programs depend on relationships…This article was originally published on Mongabay

As Bangladesh is rapidly being urbanized, more and more forests are getting fragmented, resulting in the construction of more roads, which means more wildlife are being killed in collisions with vehicles. To address these wildlife deaths, the Forest Department’s Tangail Divisional Office has recently facilitated a low-cost solution. At a total cost of 625,000 takas (around $5,000), ropeway bridges have been installed in northern Bangladesh at five locations along an 8-kilometer (5-mile) stretch of the Mymensingh-Tangail Highway N401, which slices through the reserved forest of Madhupur National Park, where heavy-duty vehicles regularly collide with wildlife, especially primates. “These ropeways are expected to protect rhesus macaques, capped langurs, Indian civets and small carnivores like fishing cats from roadkill,” Tangail divisional forest officer Abu Naser Mohsin Hossain told Mongabay. According to a 2018 study, the 8,436-hectare (20,845-acre) Madhupur National Park, the largest deciduous forest of Bangladesh, supports 151 wildlife species belonging to 23 orders and 62 families. According to available data that the Forest Department has from local sources, rhesus macaques (Macaca mulatta) are most frequently killed in road accidents during the day. However, none of the roadkill in Madhupur can be documented, because the forest dependent Indigenous community here consumes the carcasses soon after an accident, said Md. Mossarrof Hosain, a deputy ranger at the Madhupur National Park. Naser said that the nylon-rope bridges are expected to provide safe aerial corridors for arboreal animals, both nocturnal and diurnal. Each is 30 meters (100 feet) long and almost 1-meter (3-feet) wide and…This article was originally published on Mongabay

This is the second story in a special three-part series on microplastics in the Amazon. Read the first part here. MANAUS, Brazil — In Amazonian waters, the pirarucu lives between two worlds. In the oxygen-depleted waters typical of floodplain lakes, this giant fish rises to the surface to breathe air. Over an evolutionary history spanning at least 100 million years, it developed a modified swim bladder that functions as a primitive lung. This rare adaptation has allowed it to thrive in environments that are too harsh for other fish species. Today, however, the very adaptation that ensures its survival makes it vulnerable to a new threat: Microplastic pollution. “Amazonian environment is already highly challenging,” said Adalberto Val, a biologist and head of the National Institute of Science and Technology for Adaptations of Aquatic Biota of the Amazon (INCT-Adapta). “Here we have high temperatures, low oxygen levels in the water … Organisms already respond to these challenges as they learned during the evolutionary process. Then we start adding new challenges, like plastic.” When breathing becomes a risk Pirarucus (Arapaima gigas) cannot survive for more than 10 minutes without surfacing for air. They rely on an air-breathing organ connected to their modified swim bladder, a necessity that puts them in direct contact with microplastics floating at the surface. Drawing on established knowledge about the species, Val and researchers from the University of British Columbia in Canada published an article outlining the dangers of this exposure. When microplastics enter the pirarucu’s air-breathing organ,…This article was originally published on Mongabay

For people trying to protect the Amazon, one problem has persisted for decades. A hectare of intact forest stores carbon, regulates water, supports wildlife, and provides food and materials for the people who live there. Much of that value does not appear in an economic ledger. Cattle, timber, soy, and gold do. For a farmer, a company, or a local government, clearing forest can therefore produce income more readily than keeping it standing. The Amazon bioeconomy grew from efforts to change that calculation. It includes forest products, agroforestry, biotechnology, carbon markets, and other businesses that depend on maintaining living forests. The aim is to make such activities commercially viable at a scale that matters. Mariano Cenamo spent most of his career working on that problem. He was 23 when he moved from São Paulo to Manaus in 2003. Trained as a forestry engineer at the University of São Paulo, he had first come to the Amazon for an internship. He stayed at the encouragement of Virgílio Viana, a former professor who was then Amazonas state’s environment secretary. Cenamo was struck by the gap between conservation work and the economic realities of people living in the forest. Environmental groups were doing important work, he later recalled, but local livelihoods often sat outside the conservation discussion. In 2004 he helped establish what became Idesam, the Institute for the Conservation and Sustainable Development of the Amazon. At first there was barely an institution. Cenamo later described himself as an “ING”, an indivíduo não…This article was originally published on Mongabay