Pray for the tiger or prey for the tiger?

Abstract

Among Tigers: Fighting to Bring Back Asia's Big Cats. Karanth, K. U. 2022. Chicago Review Press, Chicago, IL.xvi+240pp. US$30.00 (hardcover). ISBN 978-1-64160-654-7.

In 1967, at the age of 19, Ullas Karanth was living in southern India, where he “heard gunshots everywhere and saw forests laid waste.” Tiger numbers in India were at a low ebb. In the early 1970s, hunting was essentially banned, sacrosanct reserves were created, and some conservation biologists and forest officials worked to enforce the new laws. Recovery (“a miracle,” says Karanth) has resulted in an increase from ∼2000 to ∼3000 Indian tigers, which is thought to be about 60% of the world's wild population. This is all very well, but in comparison, just a century ago 1600 tigers were slaughtered annually in the subcontinent.

The 3000 Indian tigers today coexist with >1.4 billion people (a ratio of 1:470,000). The tale of how we got here and how the tiger has increased in numbers is a remarkable one, told here in gripping fashion. The book begins in 1988, when Karanth began rigorous fieldwork in the Western Ghats of India. By 1990, he was radio tracking 5 tigers and 3 leopards, and later he used camera traps to census tiger populations. Leading the way in both endeavors and spearheading subsequent conservation efforts, one wonders where the tiger would be without him. The book describes Karanth's adventures: how he caught and followed big cats, studied their diets, and surveyed their prey. It covers tiger life history, the challenges of conservation, and a recipe for a future in which India supports 10,000 tigers. Unlike in Africa, where safari parks are fenced, tigers, elephants, and other large mammals roam free in India. Sometimes they meet people and eat livestock. Rarely do they prey on people. But, just as the even more dangerous and more numerous elephants do, the tiger raises sentiments of both fear and pride.

Research comes with highs when it produces exciting discoveries and lows when things are not working out, but the oscillations in Karanth's study of big cats have been extreme. I cannot imagine how he felt to find a leopard he had been tracking for 2 years strung up dead in a poacher's noose or how he felt when bureaucrats prevented him from tracking his animals for more than 6 months, resulting in much time devoted to litigation, an inability to go to the field, and lost data. He had his work ransacked by a mob, fire set to his field station and vehicle, and 8 km² of prime habitat destroyed. The root cause of this destruction stemmed from strict limitations on reserve exploitation that had stopped locals from entering the forest or consuming wild animals, but the immediate cause was the death of a poacher.

Karanth kept going in the face of all these setbacks perhaps partly because of the “near mystical feeling of anticipating a tiger while soaking up myriad other sounds, smells and sensations” and the tremendous excitement of observing tigers up close. But the reader comes to understand that his main motivation was a thirst for knowledge. Several important results have come out from this research. For example, a tiger kills about 50 prey animals a year. Hence, it requires a prey base of 500, and ultimately it is the prey base that limits tiger numbers. He must also have got considerable satisfaction from knowing his study animals so well. In one case, a film team in the back of an open vehicle was charged to within a meter by a tigress in defense of her cubs; somehow Karanth knew she would not come all the way. In another case, a tiger that was a menace to humans was translocated to a remote area. Karanth was sure it would continue to attack people, and his predictions were born out.

In Karanth's study area, female tigers hold a territory of about 20 km², whereas males have larger home ranges and compete for access to females. A female might reach reproductive age after 3–4 years and maintain her territory for 5–8 years, during which time she bears 10–15 cubs. If a female were to add a tiger a year to the population and none were to die until they themselves had lived a full life, I calculate that we would have more than >1.5 million individuals in less than 20 years. With all this potential, the critical issue becomes how tiger populations can be held steady without too many direct conflicts with people. “There is nothing gained by mourning the loss of an individual tiger, or in rejoicing the birth of every cub” notes Karanth. Yet, he continues, “This is exactly what many fans of tigers go around doing.” Such sentiment has led to the capture and translocation of cats rather than killing them, which has had dire consequences for the cat and often people.

With such a high potential for growth, many tigers must be dying each year to hold numbers approximately steady. Cubs are killed by males if their father is deposed. About 20% of adult tigers die every year. Karanth was able to ascertain causes of death and disappearance for 123 adults from 2006 to 2016: 40% died from starvation and fights (sometimes with gaur [Bos gaurus] but mostly with other tigers), 40% were killed by poaching (stimulated by a rise in demand for tiger parts from China), and the remainder were captured or killed by officials. Despite the mortality, it was surprising to me that there are not more human encounters and human deaths. Here, Karanth provides insight: through thousands of years of persecution, tigers have evolved to fear and avoid us.

What should one do about the relatively few tigers that are surplus, which are often old, displaced, or have left a park? Using camera traps rather than radio tracking, and yet again having to deal with being denied permits for an extended period, Karanth has been able to follow such individuals. One old, displaced, tigress killed 11 livestock and 2 people before herself being killed by a tranquilizer gun. Another tiger that was a danger to humans was trucked 300 km, much to the consternation of the villagers nearby, and shot after it killed a person. The bottom line, Karanth states, is that some tigers do need to be culled to save the species and its habitat. One obvious way to do this follows a North American and African model, which encourages professional culling, thereby raising funds for conservation. Karanth does not raise this idea at all. Indeed, it is quite clear that the correct route is to continue with limited governmental interventions when required, thereby jiving with an inborn respect for nature. Introducing trophy hunting might well be disastrous.

Karanth's views on how to conserve India's biodiversity make sense to me, although they are controversial. First, Karanth argues economics is the only way conservation can work. Land-use change in the past for subsistence agriculture and cash crops, for example, could now change to restoration of natural habitat to advance tourism. One of his goals is to convince and help private landowners make this route viable. This could lead to land grabs and funds not being distributed equitably and locally and limit land access to local people and such problems need to be resolved (Ghosh-Harihar et al., 2019; Karanth & Gopal, 2005; Karanth et al., 2013). Further, Karanth argues that humans and nature cannot live side-by-side in the forest. Instead, we need reserves with as little human presence as possible, which requires human relocation (Ghosh-Harihar et al., 2019; Harihar et al., 2014). Relocation is controversial and has met with failure in the past, but better planned and better funded efforts have yielded mutual benefits to humans and biodiversity (e.g., Harihar et al., 2014). Karanth notes, “When given the real chance to escape their forced coexistence with tigers to reach towards modernity, people grab it.” Over the past 20 years, he has not only talked the talk but also walked the walk, working with other dedicated conservationists to make impressive strides in human relocations. He has also taken on big business, contributing to the removal of a large mining operation from one reserve, and influenced government policy (e.g., in methods of tiger censusing).

This is an important book that describes the author's highs and lows in research and conservation. As an adventure story, it is a gripping page turner. As a recipe for how to do conservation in India, it is eloquent and forceful. Ultimately, despite field and bureaucratic difficulties, Karanth is full of optimism. I highly recommend this book to all.