Researchers interacting with the Changpa pastoral people in Changthang, Ladakh. Credit: Munib Khanyari
Conservation science follows a top-down model where experts design projects, collect data, and draft policies while Indigenous communities, the stewards of biodiversity, are left out of decision-making. A new global framework1 challenges this approach and argues that conservation will only succeed if local communities are treated as equal partners in research.
Developed by an international team of scientists working across 36 countries, the framework lays out 14 guiding principles for participatory research, emphasizing collaboration, ethical engagement, and a shift away from extractive scientific practices. Their conclusion – science alone is not enough. Effective conservation must blend modern research with deep-rooted Indigenous environmental knowledge.
Breaking the cycle of exclusion
Indigenous people and local communities typically act only as data collectors rather than decision-makers in research projects. “The assumption has always been that scientific expertise trumps traditional knowledge,” says Munib Khanyari, co-author of the study and a conservation scientist at the Nature Conservation Foundation in India. “But Indigenous communities have safeguarded ecosystems for generations. It’s time we listened to them more intently.”
The framework follows the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework, a landmark 2022 agreement that underscored the importance of integrating Indigenous knowledge into conservation. The researchers behind the study argue that achieving this goal will require more than just policy statements and will demand a fundamental shift in how science is conducted.
“Participatory research is not just about including Indigenous voices,” says Apoorva Kulkarni, co-author and a researcher at the Interdisciplinary Centre for Conservation Science, University of Oxford. “Communities should be involved from the beginning by defining research questions, interpreting results, and shaping conservation strategies.” It is also important to include the communities while disseminating the results of research, for example, as co-authors in research publications or during public engagement exercises, she says.
There are practical ways of doing collaborative research with techniques rooted in Indigenous traditions. Community mapping, co-designed surveys, and oral histories could be some approaches that allow communities to take ownership of the research, says Kulkarni.
For Indigenous leaders like Achili Mihu, a conservationist from the Idu Mishmi community in Arunachal Pradesh, India, this shift is long overdue. “Our forests are part of who we are,” Mihu says. “Researchers often arrive with their own assumptions and fail to understand our connection to the land. Conservation must start with understanding rather than imposition.”
This disconnect has real-world consequences. The failure to meaningfully engage Indigenous peoples has led to conservation projects that disrupt traditional livelihoods, create conflict, and sometimes even displace communities. “Western conservation models have often treated people as threats to biodiversity,” says Olivia del Giorgio, a human geographer at McGill University in Canada. “In reality, these communities tend to be its greatest protectors.”
The colonial legacy of conservation
The exclusion of Indigenous communities from environmental decision-making has historical roots. Protected areas and national parks were often established by colonial rulers by removing local populations, a practice that continues in some parts of the world today, the researchers say. Even in more inclusive conservation efforts, local communities have often been relegated to passive roles by gathering data without having a say in how research findings are used.
Mid-20th century models like Rapid Rural Appraisal and Participatory Rural Appraisal that gained prominence in the 1980s are some such examples. While these methods emphasized efficiency and community empowerment, they often failed to address underlying power imbalances, Khanyari says.
The framework calls for rethinking these entrenched power dynamics. “Participation has too often meant being consulted but not actually having a seat at the table,” says Khanyari.
Despite growing awareness of the need for community-led conservation, significant barriers remain. Many scientists lack training in social science methodologies, making it difficult to navigate community engagement. Funding structures prioritize short-term results, leaving little room for the long-term relationship-building required for meaningful collaboration.
“Success should not be measured by published papers. It should be about creating lasting impact for the communities involved,” says del Giorgio.
The study argues that current research protocols focus narrowly on individual consent, often overlooking the collective rights of Indigenous groups. Many communities have seen researchers collect data, publish findings, and move on without sharing results or ensuring benefits flow back to those who contributed.
“We have had scientists take samples from our forests and never return,” says Mihu. “That feels like exploitation. True partnerships require reciprocity.”
A global movement toward change
While many institutions have been slow to adapt, some initiatives prove that participatory research can work. In the Amazon, Indigenous communities are using drones to monitor deforestation, blending traditional tracking methods with modern technology. In Europe, citizen science programs empower local communities to collect environmental data and advocate for policy change.
“These examples highlight what is possible when Indigenous people are treated as equal partners, ensuring inclusion of Indigenous values and worldviews in conservation practices,” says Ranjini Murali, a co-author of the framework and researcher at Humboldt University, Germany.
The study highlights the unique vulnerabilities faced by Indigenous communities, from deforestation and land grabbing to climate change.
“Floods, wildfires, and resource depletion do not affect everyone equally,” says Kulkarni. “The most marginalized communities often face the highest risks. Conservation must be designed with this in mind.”
Science as a bridge not a barrier
Members of Siddi community, an indigenous Indo-African community from the central Western Ghats of India, sharing their knowledge of wildlife and forest resource management with researchers. Credit: Apoorva S.
The researchers stress that their framework is not a rigid rulebook but a call to action. Science, they argue, must move away from a one-size-fits-all approach and adapt to the cultural, ecological, and political realities of each community.
“Conservation is as much about relationships as it is about data,” says Khanyari. “If we want real impact, we need to rebuild trust and truly collaborate.”
For Indigenous leaders like Mihu, the stakes are high. “Our forests are our lifeline,” she says. “Participatory research gives us a way to protect them while preserving our identity. But it has to be done right.”
As the world grapples with biodiversity loss, the success of conservation efforts may depend on listening. “The future of conservation is not just in our labs or conferences,” Mihu says. “It is in the forests, rivers, and mountains we share.”