Pretty Privilege: How Aesthetics Influence Which Endangered Species We Save
Because apparently, beauty standards for humans weren’t enough.
BY: TANISHA AGARWAL
Unless you belong to the vibrant community of invertebrates that make their home under a rock, you’ve probably got the memo: there’s a mass extinction happening, and we’re all invited. Scientists put the number of plant and animal species at risk of being wiped out of existence at one million, though the names we hear about most often are far fewer. Tigers, giant pandas, blue whales, and polar bears all rank among the most famous threatened animals, regularly starring in nature documentaries and gracing the front of WWF pamphlets as the literal poster critters of conservation. Like all supermodels, they are extremely photogenic, ranging from adorable to majestic. Naturally, they attract human awe, appreciation, and perhaps most importantly for them, support. At a time when efforts to reverse the global biodiversity decline face a financing gap of up to US$824 billion each year, species are competing with each other to secure limited resources for conservation projects. Fundraising through public donations boils down to a popularity contest, with the most recognisable species taking the lion’s share of the money while those born with the misfortune of being aesthetically unappealing to humans are left to starve.
As for what constitutes this aesthetic appeal, the general consensus is that we like animals that look like us. While the majority of humans don’t resemble jaguars, research indicates that people find relatively large mammals with forward-facing eyes most appealing and have a special fondness for terrestrial animals. The majority of humans certainly have more in common with a jaguar than with a cicada. An animal’s appeal to humans is called its charisma, and most charismatic species are land-living, large-bodied mammals like big cats, elephants, and bears. These are the superstars of the conservation world.
Panthera onca and Homo sapiens—a striking resemblance / Photos by Joshua J. Cotten and Joshua Rondeau via Unsplash
Where does that leave the others? The strange, slimy, and scary animals that no one wants as a plushie or a tattoo? The Titicaca water frog and Cuban greater funnel-eared bat may not be much to look at, but they require protection nonetheless. And while being ugly is bad enough on its own, being hated is worse. As some of the most common objects of human phobias, endangered snakes, spiders, and bats gather little public support for their conservation. This is all to say nothing of the smallest insects like ants and beetles, whose vital but overlooked contributions to their ecosystems make their recent decline a portent of doom for all biodiversity. These weird, wonderful species are at serious risk of disappearing from the planet, but struggle to gain human sympathy on account of being unattractive or frightening.
The endangered Pacific lamprey belongs not in a horror film, but in the river ecosystems where it is an invaluable player in the food web / Photo by Dave Herasimtschuk via US Fish & Wildlife Service
If that sounds shallow, it is. Our fondness for beautiful animals is contributing to the world’s biodiversity decline even as we think we are helping. Limitations on resources mean zoos often house charismatic species over unappealing ones that are more endangered. With zoos and the breeding programs they host being an important conservation tool, animals in need of these resources are losing out on yet another opportunity to avoid extinction.
However, some scientists think the popular appeal of certain animals could be utilised in another way. The unique charms of these critters—called flagship species by ecologists—allow them to be the face of broader conservation projects to protect other species that live in the same habitat. The public is eager to donate to save charismatic species and their habitats (and feel good about themselves in the process), while the endangered fauna living near the flagship benefit from their celebrity neighbour. This approach also reduces costs for conservation organisations, as they need to spend less money on marketing an already famous species like the tiger or the great white shark. In theory, it’s a win-win-win solution to one of conservation’s most pressing problems.
Google search results for “arctic conservation” are dominated by pictures of the polar bear, a classic example of a flagship species
Of course, that means there’s plenty of room for it to flounder in the real world. While the flagship species method has been successful in cases such as that of Indonesia’s Komodo dragon, whose exotic appeal generates enough revenue to encourage locals to support conservation efforts and attracts thousands of tourists to a national park that protects a much wider range of biodiversity, the efficiency of this approach over others has been questioned.
The needs of two flagship species living in the same region may clash or the strategies adopted to protect a flagship may be detrimental to another, less charismatic species in the area, in which case the latter will almost certainly suffer. From a fundraising perspective, conservation organisations have to be transparent about directing money raised by marketing one species towards the protection of others or risk losing the trust of their donors. Unfortunately, disclaimers about spending surplus funds on other projects may be perceived as vague by potential donors and reduce credibility, especially for smaller organisations. And then there’s the ever-present possibility that the conservation project may fail altogether. The charisma of flagship species is both a blessing and a curse, making them natural targets for poachers and the exotic pet trade. With the collapse of a popular project, people may lose hope for conservation altogether, dooming future campaigns before they begin.
There is also a much simpler and arguably more important question we must ask ourselves here: why do we think species that don’t meet our standards for beauty are not deserving of our direct support? You could argue that humans have a natural aversion to animals like snakes and spiders, evolved as a defence mechanism against potentially dangerous species. However, it’s worth keeping in mind that the frightening or odd appearances of these animals are also the product of centuries of evolution, making them perfectly adapted to survive in their own habitats. When we look past our knee-jerk revulsion and biases, we may be able to appreciate—and perhaps even love—strange-looking species for their unique features and quirks. Besides, as far as freaks of nature go, a bunch of hairless apes with oversized thumbs don’t get to pass judgment.
This doesn’t mean the flagship species concept is worthless, though. Perhaps the answer lies in expanding the range of charismatic fauna to include traditionally neglected groups and species. Many animals possess the potential and aesthetically-pleasing features to be successful flagships but have been overlooked by the public, being dubbed ‘Cinderella species’ by scientists, who like naming things almost as much as studying them. Moreover, research shows that increased marketing for non-charismatic animals by conservation organisations could attract an average of 60 percent more donors than for attractive species with little to no marketing. Of course, more marketing requires more money, but some creativity can go a long way in spotlighting ignored species that desperately need our help. One novel approach is the Zoological Society of London’s program for Evolutionarily Distinct and Globally Endangered (EDGE) species, which focuses on animals with unique evolutionary history. By celebrating weirdness, this initiative puts its own spin on the flagship concept, attracting public interest in and support for some of the oddest-looking members of the animal kingdom.
The purple frog (Nasikabatrachus sahyadrensis), a funky little result of 100 million years of independent evolution / Photo by Sandeep Das via EDGE
While the most attractive animals may be able to help some of their less aesthetically blessed neighbours, the latter deserve to be appreciated as valuable and interesting species in their own right. By separating aesthetics from the worth of a species, we can protect all the animals that need our help, not just those that look good on Instagram. The existence of the oddballs simply highlights the breathtaking diversity of nature and reminds us of how much of it we are yet to explore. Our obsession with beauty is not only damaging our own communities but also fuelling an eco-apocalypse, with species going extinct faster than ever before. Charismatic animals alone probably won’t save the world, but we can—as long as we learn to love endangered species as they are: warts, slime, scales, and all.
