- Unverified data and media misrepresentation
In a country blessed with biodiversity and ecological abundance, it is alarming that Sri Lanka’s wildlife is now increasingly painted as a problem. In recent years, a shift has occurred in how animals are discussed in the media and by policymakers.
Elephants, toque macaques, peafowl, and other species, once celebrated in folklore and religion are now regularly labeled as pests, nuisances, and threats to national stability.
The mainstream media, echoing State-backed narratives, has become a key driver in this transformation. Sensational headlines about crop raids, infrastructure damage, or the human-wildlife conflict flood the news, usually devoid of any ecological context or scientific backing. Unfortunately, this shift does more than damage reputations, it shapes public opinion, justifies reactionary policy, and undercuts decades of conservation work.
Sri Lanka’s media ecosystem, comprising both public and private outlets, often aligns with prevailing political interests. Environmental reporting is frequently shallow, lacking journalistic rigour, and heavily reliant on anecdotal accounts. This has given rise to a narrative in which animals are depicted as villains rather than victims of habitat loss, human encroachment, and poor land-use planning.
Consider the widely circulated story from 2022, where a national power outage was blamed on a monkey. The animal was quickly described as mischievous and destructive, while little attention was paid to the weak infrastructure and lack of animal-proofing measures that allowed the incident to occur. Such examples are far from isolated. Terms like ‘pests’, ‘raiders’ and ‘plagues’ are now routinely applied to species that were once considered icons of Sri Lanka’s natural heritage.
This form of reporting creates emotional reactions. Fear, anger, and frustration sideline the actual drivers of conflict. Media coverage seldom includes insights from ecologists, conservationists, or community leaders working on mitigation. Instead, it privileges drama over depth, and panic over perspective.
Perhaps the most glaring example of how flawed data and biased narratives can combine to produce harmful outcomes came in early this year, when the Department of Agriculture, with the support of other State agencies, launched what it called a ‘national wildlife census.’ The stated aim was to assess the population densities of species accused of crop raiding, such as the peafowl, toque macaques, porcupines, and grizzled giant squirrels.
However, the survey's methodology sparked widespread concern. Observers were instructed to record sightings over five-minute intervals per location. This approach defied fundamental principles of wildlife ecology. Population estimates require repeated observations across varied timeframes and environmental conditions. Five-minute snapshots cannot account for animal behaviour, seasonal movement, or human interference. Furthermore, critical species like wild boars and elephants, both key contributors to the human-wildlife conflict, were inexplicably excluded.
There was no peer review, no consultation with conservation biologists, and no transparent publication of the raw data. Yet, the findings were widely shared in the media and presented as proof of ‘overpopulation’ and ‘runaway wildlife numbers.’ The language used in press conferences and news reports was alarmist. Images of destroyed farmland were paired with claims that certain species had become ‘uncontrollable.’
The reaction from State officials was swift and severe. Based on the survey’s flawed conclusions, calls emerged for population control measures, including sterilisation, relocation, and culling. Some Local Government authorities even proposed bounties for animals deemed ‘problematic.’
One especially damaging element was the reporting of financial figures. The media claimed that the wildlife census had cost the Government millions. Although this figure was later refuted, and the actual expenditures revealed to be far lower, the initial number had already permeated the public discourse. It fueled resentment among taxpayers and further stoked anger toward wildlife, seen now as a costly burden rather than a shared heritage.
If any animal symbolises the distortion of public perception, it is the Sri Lankan elephant. Revered in religious traditions and once a symbol of national pride, elephants have become the face of the human-wildlife conflict. Many elephants were killed in incidents arising from this conflict with an all-time peak of 473 in 2023. And, these are just the animals found. Yet, most media stories highlight dramatic events, trains derailed by elephants, houses destroyed, or villagers attacked, without discussing the root causes.
Scientific research shows that habitat fragmentation, illegal encroachment, and the expansion of monoculture plantations have significantly reduced elephant migratory routes and feeding grounds. As human settlements continue to encroach on elephant corridors, encounters have become inevitable. But, these deeper issues are rarely addressed in news coverage or policymaking.
Instead, the public discourse now focuses on containment; electric fencing, translocation, and deterrents. These methods have limited long-term success and may exacerbate conflict elsewhere by shifting the problem rather than solving it. Translocated elephants, for instance, often return to their original habitat or create conflicts in new areas, leading to more aggressive responses from the local communities.
An often-overlooked yet critical aspect of Sri Lanka’s human-wildlife conflict is the illegal claiming of forest land under the guise of population growth and political entitlement. In recent years, particularly in the Eastern and North Central Provinces, there has been a disturbing trend where individuals and groups attempt to justify deforestation and land encroachment by citing high birth rates within their communities as a rationale for expanding settlements, irrespective of ecological or legal boundaries.
In some areas, this rhetoric has gained political backing. Controversial figures have been repeatedly accused of facilitating forest clearance in protected areas, including parts of the Wilpattu National Park buffer zone, to resettle communities in ways that violate environmental safeguards and land use regulations. These actions, which are often politically motivated and framed as development or resettlement programmes, accelerate habitat loss and fragment wildlife corridors essential for species such as elephants, leopards, and sloth bears.
The implications are profound. As the forest cover disappears and human settlements push deeper into once-pristine ecosystems, wildlife is forced into closer contact with people, inevitably leading to increased conflict. Yet, rather than addressing these root causes, the focus often shifts to blaming the animals, creating a narrative in which the consequences of political negligence and illegal land use are laid at the feet (or hooves) of wildlife.
Who speaks for wildlife?
Sri Lanka’s conservation community, comprised of field biologists, ecologists, activists, and indigenous knowledge holders, has repeatedly raised concerns over the handling of wildlife data and the tone of the media coverage. Yet, their voices are often marginalised or drowned out entirely. Expert commentary is rarely featured in major news stories. Public consultations are limited or bypassed. Some researchers have even reported pressure to stay silent on politically sensitive topics. The Online Safety Act, still enforced, continues to silence this community.
Independent fact-checking platforms have played an important role in debunking misinformation. However, their corrections rarely receive the same visibility or emotional pull as the initial false claims. For example, a headline declaring ‘Monkeys Destroy Rs. 100 Billion Worth of Crops’ will always attract more attention than a subdued correction published two days later.
Why this matters: Ecological and social consequences
Vilifying wildlife does not just erode public understanding, it has very real consequences. Policies made on the basis of fear and flawed data can damage ecosystems, destabilise livelihoods, and jeopardise endangered species. For example, indiscriminate culling or the sterilisation of species can upset ecological balances, leading to unintended outcomes such as increased pest populations or the collapse of predator-prey relationships.
Moreover, such policies often fail to acknowledge that the roots of the human-wildlife conflict are not biological, but political and economic. Deforestation, the lack of zoning enforcement, poverty, and monoculture farming leave communities exposed and vulnerable. Addressing these root causes is harder and less headline-grabbing than blaming a bird or a monkey, but it is the only way to create lasting peace between people and nature.
So, how can Sri Lanka reverse this trend and move toward solutions that protect both human livelihoods and wildlife?
Reform environmental journalism: Journalists must be trained to report on environmental and scientific topics responsibly. Newsrooms should be encouraged to include expert voices, explain the complexities of conservation, and resist the urge for sensationalism. Media watchdogs and press councils can support this through codes of conduct and ethical guidelines.
Ground policy in sound science: Wildlife management policies must be based on peer-reviewed ecological research. National censuses or wildlife surveys should be designed by qualified scientists, reviewed independently, and publicly accessible. The involvement of institutions like the International Union for Conservation of Nature, the Department of Wildlife Conservation, and local universities is essential for credibility and accuracy.
Educate the public: Ultimately, coexistence requires a shift in the public mindset. Campaigns that highlight the ecological roles of species such as seed dispersal by monkeys or pest control by the peafowl can help restore public appreciation. Schools, religious institutions, and community leaders all have roles to play in fostering a culture of respect for nature.
Sri Lanka is not the first country to struggle with the human-wildlife conflict, and it will not be the last. But, the path that we take will determine whether we inherit a future of coexistence or confrontation. The vilification of wildlife through unverified data and media misrepresentation does more than skew perception, it enables policies that can lead to ecological collapse and deepen social divides.
It is time for a collective reckoning. Policymakers, journalists, scientists, and citizens must work together to reshape the narrative. Wildlife is not our enemy. The real threat lies in poor planning, political expediency, and an information ecosystem that too often trades facts for fear.
In a land where elephants walk beneath moonlight and the peafowl call from ancient trees, we owe it to future generations to protect not just the animals, but the truth.
(The writer is an environmental professional and doctoral researcher focusing on ecology and ecosystems)
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The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect those of this publication