Putting price tags on India's tiger reserves is silly
Lost in the hype and celebrations of the bumper crop of tigers, a magnificent 30 per cent jump to 2,226 from the previous count of 1,706 in 2010, was a report released on the same day: Economic Valuation of Tiger Reserves: A Value Plus Approach by the Indian Institute of Forest Management. This first-of-a-kind study, done at the behest of the ministry of environment, forests and climate change, provides quantitative and qualitative estimates of some 25 ecosystem services accruing from selected tiger reserves. It takes into account economic, social and cultural services that the reserves provide us, factoring in provisioning of clean air and water, soil conservation, a gene pool for agriculture, moderating extreme events like storms, floods and mitigating climate change by storing and sequestering carbon, among others.
In simple terms, it puts a price tag on tiger reserves: six reserves - Corbett, Kanha, Kaziranga, Periyar, Ranthambore and Sundarbans - were tallied, and their collective monetary value calculated at Rs 1.5 lakh crore. In terms of unit area, this translates into Rs 50,000 to Rs 190,000 per hectare per year. According to news reports, Periyar is the priciest, with the highest annual flow benefits at Rs 1,760 crore, followed by Kanha at Rs 1,650 crore, while Corbett accrues Rs 1,470 crore annually. It also gives a value of the return on investments. For example, the study calculated that every rupee spent in Corbett yields a value of Rs 368.
Yes, you read me right, this pricing of tiger reserves does not sit well with me, and importantly, does not augur well for the tiger, or for nature.
It is will-intended. I understand, only too well, the rationale that went behind the exercise. As we try, and in most cases fail, to conserve nature, as rivers are "tamed" by dams, and turned into toxic soups, as our air becomes poison, as mountains are flattened, gouged for hotels and hydel projects, forests pillaged for mines and roads, as species die out, and fall off the planet; we conjure up, devise, strategise for innovative, alternate means to conserve.
And what better way than defining nature in economic terms, given it is the only language that is understood, the only currency that matters? The argument goes thus: We have been a complete failure to protect the natural world, because there is no price attached to it, nature's bounty is free. It is easy to say, mine a forest, or make a mall over a wetland, because the forest or the wetland is not worth anything - but millions will be made out of selling the minerals and from constructing the mall. However, if we attach a price to that wetland: take into account, that it recharges ground water, sequesters carbon, provides livelihood to fishermen, hosts wildlife, well then, we can trump the mall. We can then tell those real estate types that the migrant birds and recharging groundwater means it is worth Rs X, which is greater than the value of that swanky mall which will be constructed and sold piecemeal to Big Bazaar, PVR & Co.
Ha!
So, we turn "nature" into "natural capital", rich fecund forests into "net present value", ecological processes into "eco-system services" and trees, mountains, streams into "green infrastructure". Words fail me, but UK-based author, and renowned environmentalist, George Monbiot describes, succinctly, efforts to price the natural world as "complete and utter gobbledygook".
Simply because, he reasons, we are dealing with values that are non-commensurable. How, for instance, do you measure the economic value of a flowing river? Even putting a price for the water it gifts us for drinking, irrigation and the 1,000 other uses that we put it to is impossible, let alone the intangibles - of the sheer aesthetic value of watching, and hearing the rhythm and flow of lovely, clear waters (if any such remain!).
How do you calculate the value of the peace that we get in the calm beauty of nature - walking by a sea shore, watching a bird soar, dolphins twirl and swim, and yes... of being mesmerised by the vitality and the majesty of the tiger? As the pioneering conservationist and biologist George Schaller says, "We don't talk about nature anymore. We talk about natural resources as if everything had a price tag. But you cannot buy spiritual values at a shopping mall."
It's not anything new, pricing nature, putting a market value to forests. It's a global phenomenon, but, for the moment, I will focus on India, where we have been practicing the concept of "net present value". Project proponents who seek to divert (and destroy) forest land for say, a road, a mine or to build a shoe factory, after getting the mandatory permissions, must deposit the calculated value of the forest, the NPV. This goes into a central fund, and the amount is earmarked for the concerned state, which "owns" the forest. Here too, the intent was fine: to ensure that the "user" pays for the forests thus destroyed, and that forests are valued. Further, the amount deposited is for compensatory afforestation, and it is prioritised that the fund be used for wildlife conservation and strengthening protection of existing forests. Well, it has not worked out as intended, with wildlife largely starved of funds, and forests being destroyed with impunity. It has, however, served the interests of business well, who can acquire a rich resource, land - and assuage their conscience as well, after putting money into the kitty. The states are not complaining either - the higher the forest diversion, the larger their share of the NPV. Plus, of course, the short-term and unstated benefits that flow from the mine or industry or whatever. The only loser is the forest… and the wild creatures that it shelters.
Still, I understand the conviction that went into pricing tiger reserves. The study clearly makes a case for broader tiger landscapes and connectivity for a continued flow of eco-system services, and for sound investment in reserves. It emphatically states that such natural landscapes can never be recreated, and many benefits that the reserves grant us cannot be quantified or measured.
I also appreciate that an economic value can be a useful tool for the park manager or the conservationist: when politicians and business interests cry foul on the land - tiger reserve - being "locked" or lost to development; or complain of pouring money into a seeming dead-end. It gives us a handle to plea for the reserve's existence.
Clearly, this was the motive to price the tiger reserves, hoping that the monies that it grants, will protect it. Conversely, it is also the very reason that it is risky to do so.
To put it bluntly: What if competent uses to a Corbett or a Kanha are found more lucrative? What if the coal beneath Kanha is deemed to be worth far greater than the Rs 1,650 crore that the tiger reserve returns, or that constructing resorts and holiday homes in Corbett is estimated to be more lucrative? Our arguments then run hollow.
I fear the potential to misuse such a report in the current climes when environment, forest and wildlife policy, laws, regulations and institutions are being weakened, bent, diluted to facilitate industry and infrastructure, rather than to protect forests and wildlife.
What if we start using these economic values to weigh the worth of the forest, against that of a proposed project or activity within it? Read the fine print: according to some reports, "the study is expected to assist policymakers in appreciating the economics of tiger conservation and may be considered by them while taking a call on any project in the future."
Explain to me, please, how will we quantify, in rupees, the tigers in the reserve? Will we (god forbid) sell a Corbett or a Kanha or any other reserve for coal or cash? Where will we stop?
The mind knows that we must use any argument possible: scientific, economic, religious, or moral to save nature, simply because life on earth - let alone economic growth, will cease to be if nature, err natural resources, are exhausted or destroyed.
But any appeal to protect nature, and I again quote George Schaller, "must reach the heart". And the heart knows that the tiger and all that it signifies, that wilderness, cannot be priced. It's priceless.