- Indigenous and traditional communities around the world are increasingly being recognized for their stewardship of forests.
- That’s led to their lands being seen as prime targets for carbon credit projects, the idea being that the carbon sequestered here can be sold to offset emissions elsewhere.
- While some Indigenous communities have welcomed these projects and the funds they bring in, others say they’re just another example of the monetization of natural resources that’s driving the climate crisis in the first place.
- Mongabay interviewed two leading Indigenous voices on both sides of the debate, who say the issue is a deeply nuanced one that carries implications for Indigenous land rights, culture and sustainability.
There’s a quiet divide among Indigenous and traditional community advocates on the topic of carbon markets.
On one hand, some believe carbon credit projects operating on their lands should be suspended or stopped. They say the projects perpetuate land rights violations, offer low benefits, and often breach Indigenous people’s free, prior and informed consent. Others say carbon projects create important jobs in materially poor communities and compensate them for conservation work they’ve been doing for generations.
Like most debates, there are overlaps: both sides tend to believe more stringent land rights and human rights protections should be implemented in the market through regulations and the law. But there’s no agreement on the way forward, either in the form of a temporary moratorium, renouncing the markets as greenwashing altogether, or buckling down to flesh out and enforce regulations. Even within factions, there are differences and nuances in the approach.
But one topic in the debate around carbon markets that hasn’t gotten a lot of attention is the commodification of community lands, especially those of Indigenous peoples — and what it means about how people relate to nature, wildlife and their ancestral territories.
Indigenous peoples and traditional communities often hold deep cultural and spiritual connections to their lands and ecosystems. But carbon credit projects seemingly introduce a different, transactional relationship. Managed by NGOs, the state or a community itself, they put a price tag on protecting a forest or ecosystem on community land to offset greenhouse gas emissions from elsewhere.
Does this change the people’s spiritual and cultural relationship with their land? Are we using the same commodified mentality that drives nature degradation to try to save it? Or is this the best workable solution we have left, a win-win for both nature and communities struggling under material poverty? Are there in fact nuances in community-based carbon credit projects that strengthen a community’s relationship to the land?
To ponder these questions and more, Mongabay recently spoke with two Indigenous and traditional community leaders familiar with carbon markets who have different approaches to these offsetting mechanisms.
Alondra Cerdes Morales is an Indigenous Cabecar woman from Tainy in Talamanca, Costa Rica. She’s president of the Bribri and Cabecar Indigenous Network (RIBCA), a coalition of women, youth and development organizations that organize community programs related to carbon market projects, agriculture, traditional knowledge, and more.
Samuel Nguiffo is a Cameroon-based lawyer and co-author of a position paper by the Pathways Alliance for Change and Transformation (PACT) which called for a moratorium on the forest carbon trade. He’s director of the Centre for Environment and Development, which helps forest-dwelling peoples exercise their legal right to manage traditional lands.
The following interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Mongabay: Indigenous communities often hold a deep cultural and spiritual connection to their lands and to the ecosystems that make up their ancestral territories. What do you think of the idea that the economic incentives of selling carbon credits can create a commodified relationship with nature in certain communities?
Alondra Cerdes Morales: First off, our communities are already facing a worrying trend where they are forgetting the value of the forest for economic benefits [whether for extractive industries or carbon markets], overlooking their cultural significance and the important roles they play in our lives. But in all, forests are more than just resources for us. They are our medicine, our source of culture, and traditions that have been nurtured and protected for generations because they represent our identity.
And for speculators coming from the outside or inside, it is unacceptable that the value of the land is being weighed solely in monetary terms while the community voices and rights are ignored. It is unreasonable to now come along and put a price on forests and resources that we already have conserved for generations. And on top of it, for those parties and investors to handle all the resources.
But RIBCA does participate in the carbon market. And we don’t only see dollar signs when we are talking about these markets. We don’t just need that. We are asking for a more participatory way of working with these project organizers.
Samuel Nguiffo: Looking at the carbon market design, and at Indigenous people — their way of life, their connection to nature, the perception of their land, forest and resources — we see a huge paradox.
The carbon market is theoretically not destructive for forests because the principles are specifically laid out to protect a specific area of the forest or restore a specific area in order to sequester carbon. It could theoretically be the perfect design for Indigenous communities who could be the right actors for the carbon market. By putting value not on individual products but on the forest itself as a whole, like on the health of the forest, carbon markets and Indigenous communities seemed to have a bright future together.
But in practice, things are very different.
Logging and other economic activities put a certain value on forest resources and this has progressively changed the relationship of Indigenous people with their land and forests, especially in a context characterized by the lack of recognition and protection of Indigenous peoples’ rights. The implementation of carbon markets in the forest is also translated again by a price attached to a forest product, and not the forest as a whole, including people living there. What happens is that very quickly the price creates an incentive for non-community members to get involved in traditional lands and try to get a share of the money too.
This commodification of nature is likely to disconnect communities from the forest, its traditional benefits and the decision-making processes, progressively alienating them from the social, anthropological, cultural and religious connection with the forest. This, too, is a consequence of increased pressures on land and resources and intrusion of outsiders.
Also, those in charge of commercially managing the forest will not manage it according to the will, interest and practices of Indigenous communities. Thus, we will have more external actors trying to decide what the forest will become and trying to reap monetary benefits as much as possible from the forests that Indigenous communities call their homes.
Mongabay: It is a reality that today many Indigenous and forest-dwelling peoples’ traditional beliefs, practices and societies are changing. In general, are you already observing changes in how Indigenous and traditional communities are relating to their ancestral lands?
Alondra Cerdes Morales: Yes, it has been changing a lot. Community members are losing their culture, traditions and language because of more income and development in the community. Projects saw developments in education and health systems, but they eventually made people lose their identity, use of traditional medicines, language, and their ancestral way of living. Traditional systems are also not respected and reinforced in these [carbon projects], and they have been changing a lot.
For example, in some of the southern territories of Costa Rica, like Brunka, Maleku and China Kichá, most Indigenous people start marrying non-Indigenous people and there are many cultural changes that are happening in the community. Years ago, speaking our mother language in our communities was also forbidden in the schools, so that makes the younger generation who are now older lose touch with their language. Now, their children and the teenagers go to the university in the city. So when they return to the territories, they are much influenced by non-Indigenous modernity.
But in all the 24 Indigenous territories in Costa Rica that are leading activities to preserve culture and language, a lot of things are beginning to be revived.
In Costa Rica, we are trying to implement in the 24 Indigenous territories the Territorial Forestry Environmental Plans (PAFT), which are the result of a 13-year consultation process led by the National Forestry Financing Fund of the Ministry of Environment and Energy under a REDD+ framework [a U.N. initiative for reducing emissions from deforestation and forest degradation].
Currently, there are six finalized territorial forest environmental plans, four are waiting to be formalized, while 14 are in the process of construction and finalization. In Talamanca, we already validated ours last March. With these plans, we are trying to work together to keep our culture, traditions, ancestral practices and language alive, and recover everything that we have been losing.
Samuel Nguiffo: Things are changing a lot. If you look at the mainstream perception of land and natural resources, it has a lot to do with money and privatization of rights. Whereas the traditions in local and Indigenous communities is that they have collective rights and sustainable use of available resources.
Many Indigenous peoples perceive themselves as being a part of the land, resources, and not above nature. For example, in the Baka communities in Cameroon, there is a very clear connection with the forest and the land. This is why they are not involved in the practice of selling their land, because they consider themselves part of nature. I recently met a member of the Baka community who said that the first time he crosses a river he talks to the river, takes some water in his hand, cleans his face, drinks a few sips, and then crosses it. He said that Baka people do it as a way of introducing oneself to the river.
But now the dominant and mainstream way of perceiving the forest through the economic lens is gaining influence. And this is in total contradiction to the spiritual perception of land and resources of Indigenous people.
Because of this economic perception of natural resources, youth are progressively losing the sense of the spiritual value of the forests and what it traditionally means to their communities. Some of them see the forest more and more as a potential source of income through the products that can be sold, or income they can get from those interested in the commercial exploitation of forest products.
The access to rights and resources also has impacts on spiritual conservation and ties to the land. Indigenous forest communities in Central Africa tend to lack the right or control to decide on what will happen in their lands and territories or spaces nearby their community. This impacts whether they can maintain their connection to land and forest when they lose it or are restricted access by industries, the government or even carbon credit projects. At the end of the day, when they lose the forest, they have lost part of their identity, and have lost everything.
Mongabay: An Indigenous leader once complained about unadulterated profit-making that didn’t take into account the deep value of conserving nature: “More and more, the world knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.” On a philosophical level, are we perpetuating a problem with how we relate to nature, in which we are using something that may be a problem — the spread of commodifying everything in the world and bringing this into traditional communities — to try to fix it? What do you think of the idea that, as Western or even Indigenous societies, we are losing other values to give to nature that are beyond money? Or are economic incentives the strongest reason we have left to protect it?
Alondra Cerdes Morales: Across a lot of the spectrum of society, we are impacted by climate change and that demands our immediate attention. Each Indigenous territory must decide its own approach to tackling this challenge. Some people refuse to accept monetary compensation to conserve their lands. However, there are others who seek to make profit from territories.
And this is especially because there are invaders in Costa Rica, like cattle ranchers, who are trying to take advantage of the forest. So if someone else like an invader is going to make a profit out of the land [through ranching, logging or carbon markets], it might as well be our communities who have been protecting them for generations. These nuances and specific contexts are the reason why each territory should define and decide approaches to safeguard the forests. In this case, it makes sense receiving funds that can be an instrument in supporting communities instead of it being given to someone who will damage the land.
Within the communities, they might also have to cross a river to travel and might need a bridge. They might need the money to build that bridge. So they are now thinking about these types of financial resources. Because community development also requires money.
It is true that it is difficult for some people to relate to the forests and the natural world, which makes them see forests as mere trees or commodities. Some people value the money and are trying to finance projects in their territories. And if the communities are getting together to build the way they want in order to tackle community challenges on their own, they can achieve a lot for the benefit of the community.
Territorial forestry environmental plans help do that and involve all social actors in the community, including women, children, elders. And this is not something new in Costa Rica; it’s something that the community people have been also building upon in their REDD+ consultation for years.
Samuel Nguiffo: Valuing land and resources only for money is not yet the mainstream perception in Indigenous communities, especially the old generation, and I don’t think it will be anytime soon. But the fact is that there are struggles between their traditions on one hand and the economic model loudly imposed by the external world, which seems to be very attractive to the young generation. This is a concerning trend, gradually pushing communities into a new model, giving a higher level of priority to money, above culture.
At a time when the climate change crisis is strongly suggesting that humanity has a revised relationship with nature, the frugal way of life of Indigenous peoples should be an inspiration for the world, not something to be destroyed and replaced by more markets.
Witnessing this shift in Indigenous communities is probably the result of our collective inability (from the donors, the government, the private sector, civil society, media, etc.) to properly recognize and protect the rights of those who have been involved in the protection of the space and resources for so many centuries. This further separates them culturally and spiritually from their lands, which they were protecting anyways. This is the root cause that has to be addressed if you don’t want to see this trend continue. The question we have to answer should be: “How to consider Indigenous communities not as a constraint but as a blessing for our human, social and cultural diversity? How to recognize and protect their rights, and how to properly involve them in land/natural resources management processes?”
Let me explain further. We don’t have many examples so far of forests managed for carbon markets in Central Africa, but we have had experiences of discussions about forest management activities aiming at generating carbon credits. And what we experienced so far was that Indigenous communities were not at the center of these discussions and their interests and values were not the most prominent elements taken into account in the discussions related to carbon markets — even when they were supposed to benefit from the project or be involved. The discussion happened between the state, carbon traders, and institutions interested in carbon trading, but not with Indigenous communities.
The trend is that companies will go to the central state for discussion and the government will not consult with Indigenous communities because they consider the forest as being the property of the state, and any potential benefit generated by the forest as being their property or state revenue anyways. So there is no obligation for the state in Central African countries to go to Indigenous communities to seek free, prior and informed consent. There is a very high risk that this practice continues until the legislations at the national level are changed.
Implementing these carbon markets in the forests in Central Africa is more likely to lead to more marginalization of Indigenous communities and weaken their involvement in forest management and lands. This will in turn separate them culturally and spiritually from these lands they protected.
This lack of rights is why I say I don’t think carbon markets offer a fair “economic incentive” for their conservation effort, because what they get is not a fair share of the value of what they are losing access to with carbon markets. When [developers] come in with these projects, they say what a community can and cannot do to keep the forest intact, where they can and cannot live. Indigenous peoples have been protecting without being recognized and then suddenly economic rights are granted to some people coming in with some proposals. They come and harvest all the fruits without any discussion with the community people or trying to find a compromise and without acknowledging their connection to sacred places, which have no economic value.
So just coming in and restricting access without acknowledging that these communities have been there for centuries will definitely lead to anguish and protest in any community. Restricting access to space and resources also creates competition and conflicts between users, which tends to erode compliance with traditional rules.
Mongabay: Many Indigenous and traditional communities live in cash-based economies, influenced by markets or may be materially poor. One perspective argues that communities require jobs and money if people must stop certain unsustainable but profitable activities, like logging, to instead conserve forests. So on the one hand, there are cash-strapped communities in need of livelihoods and income, while on the other there is a real need to protect forests and high-value ecosystems. Is the use of community-based carbon credits perhaps not the perfect but the best way we have so far to address the two issues?
Alondra Cerdes Morales: This might not be the only option but it’s the one that we have right now. And there might be another approach, but it all depends on how communities want to proceed with carbon markets, and some do. In Costa Rica, communities want to do these things without causing any harm and ensuring that their actions are aligned with who they are.
For example, in the southern Caribbean of Costa Rica, Indigenous communities rely on the proceeds of crops such as bananas and cacao to support the ventures that strengthen their traditional activities and foster skill development in the communities. The same mindset is used in carbon markets. With the resources made from carbon markets, they are establishing a school where elders can teach sustainable farming practices, language and ancestral knowledge to younger generations. So if you see it from this perspective, different projects can be an opportunity for the communities to build things for future generations to continue doing their work as well.
So they drive community development projects and back different initiatives in community areas. For example, some community people ask how carbon markets are going to include them in the project and are trying to bring initiatives in areas that don’t have forests. They collaborate on building forest nurseries or promoting ecotourism and also are engaged in safeguarding aquifers, reforestation efforts, advocating for organic farming practices. They’re trying to bring projects in the community that everyone can benefit from while also seeking balance in the forestry regeneration system that allows sustainable use of resources in effective ways.
We recognize the dependence on the forest for our livelihoods and are committed to continue taking care of the forest for future generations. And we have to do it from a participatory standpoint and want to ensure that the process involves consultation with women, children and elders. It’s important to make sure that these development opportunities are aligned with activities that will benefit the whole community.
This might not be perfect, but these projects can serve a balance that we need in the community. And that’s why it’s important that the community decides what they want to do, how they want to do it, and who is going to be involved so they can lead that, which is happening in Costa Rica. We have a close dialogue with the government where they include Indigenous peoples in a participatory way, which I think is the main difference in other countries regarding carbon markets and development projects, which leads to different perspectives.
Samuel Nguiffo: I think the design of the carbon market and system is a very clear continuation of the commodification of nature that we have seen in the past, starting with logging, and progressively trying to involve other resources, spaces and services (non-timber forest products, medicinal plants, condiments, tourism, etc.). The point is that none of these businesses have fully benefited Indigenous people, who are still suffering from their adverse impacts. Carbon markets are very likely to follow the same trends: income will be based on (1) the conservation work achieved by Indigenous communities in the past centuries, and (2) restrictions imposed on Indigenous communities’ members’ access to space and resources.
I don’t understand why the market should be the only solution to these problems. It’s very clear that forests should be used to sequester carbon. It’s very clear that local and Indigenous communities are able to do so. They have been doing so for generations and are able to continue doing it. These communities should be rewarded in other ways, rather than be expected to be a part of the market. More creativity is needed here.
It should be noted that at the end of the day, the amount of money coming in is not even fairly distributed to the community actors: the strongest parties in the deals keep the bigger part of the cake for themselves, and very little trickles down, even if communities’ lands are included in the carbon sequestration design.
This is the major problem: the external parties take control over the land from communities and restrict access in order to generate revenue from the carbon market and then they are often not even ready to share it equitably with the communities. They decide what the communities will get, but this is not a fair way of how resources should be shared.
At the end of the day, if there is a market, the biggest share of the money should be at the local community level, because the sustainability of any project is only effective with the community’s full ownership and participation.
Mongabay: Could you talk a bit more about the next generation of Indigenous peoples and youth from traditional communities who may be raised alongside ancestral forests which should now also be protected for income? What is their relationship with the elders who might hold traditional values? Could these markets have any long-term impacts on the younger generation and a growing distance from elders?
Alondra Cerdes Morales: Of course there are gaps, and that is why we have been working on our territorial forestry environmental plans. Because there is an increasing gap between how younger generations see land and how the elders see land. These markets can indeed make it worse. There are other issues also contributing to this problem. Sometimes elders don’t want to share their traditional knowledge, beliefs or values because they say the young ones don’t pay attention or are not interested. And with the arrival of smartphones, electricity, television and technology, the young generation lost interest in following their traditional cultures and values. They now don’t want to learn how to make traditional food or how to speak in their mother tongue, which makes them likely to lose the connection with their lands and territories.
The territorial forestry environmental plans for carbon projects are created by thinking of the future generations to come so they can continue safeguarding culture and value systems. We worked on these plans to ensure that the new generations see not only the monetary gain of the forest.
With these growing values and the carbon markets on the rise, the projects could sow a seed in the younger generation that could mold the view of how they would want to value nature and protect it without any financial compensation. So we are trying to implement and create local councils in schools so they can see and feel the importance of their roots, identity and culture. I hope this is going to help them reconnect with their roots and land.
Samuel Nguiffo: We’re working with young Indigenous people, including students at the university, and we perceive a risk that the monetary value of the forest will become the most important driver of their actions in the future. This is a catastrophe, because their fathers did not look at the forest only for its economic value. For them, the forests were their source of life (including income generation, but absolutely not limited to it).
Overstating the economic value of the forest can have an immediate consequence of overlooking the parents’ and grandparents’ knowledge of the forest and resources, and will lead to an irreversible loss of this unevaluable culture.
In some situations, the elder community members are perceived by the younger generation as people who have been unable to protect the land and the resources because they have been weakened by the system and obliged to change for development. The way Indigenous peoples have been treated so far, by not recognizing their leadership, land rights and unique knowledge of the forest and means of its conservation, the uniqueness of their culture, is undermining elders’ leadership and ability to continuously stand as role models to the younger generation. They are seen as people who also let go of the control and ownership of their lands, territories and culture.
Mongabay: Is there a way for communities to use and understand carbon markets that doesn’t erode their traditional values and relationship with ancestral forests? Do you think than an element of high-integrity carbon credits can include initiatives to maintain and strengthen traditional relationships with ancestral land?
Alondra Cerdes Morales: As Indigenous peoples we have lived our traditional ways of life for generations. I think the carbon market will have some impact on the community, but if terms and conditions are discussed clearly before the projects are executed, it can draw safer consequences on both sides.
So much of our culture and spirituality has been impacted in the name of the Christian religion and development, although some developments are necessary to communities. Instead, our values and beliefs should be respected and incorporated into projects to make them have sustainable outcomes. For example, health care clinics funded with money from a carbon project should include traditional medicine; schools built by carbon projects should include the Indigenous language; houses should be built that are traditional to the community.
They need to rethink the way they are actually implementing these projects into our communities. We cannot go backward, but maybe we can go back a little bit to return to our spiritual way of seeing the forest and considering it sacred as always. That can be built into the carbon market and governance system to make this process of exchange just and productive on both sides.
We are always trying to strengthen our communication with the government and develop mechanisms that help us foster our spiritual connection with forests and natural resources. If any project comes in, we hope to seek everyone’s perspective and participation, making sure we don’t have to compromise anything over development.
In our modern world, it is impossible not to talk about money and technology. We cannot go back. However, I believe improved ownership starts and grows with education, awareness and passing of traditional knowledge at home or in communities, and incorporates the value of conservation in every project that the community takes up. If a community is well aware, resourced and empowered, external factors cannot influence them and pose any serious threats.
Samuel Nguiffo: This could be something to be taken into consideration. But I think carbon markets inevitably will have some impact on communities’ culture and the way they view nature. The only difference is that the impacts may be observed sooner or later.
There have been a lot of discussions for the past 10 years about Global North countries and philanthropies providing money to support local and Indigenous communities in protecting biodiversity and contributing to the sequestration of carbon for the reduction of emissions. The support needed should not be market instruments, and could be a part of development aid, for example. I don’t understand why the market should be the only or preferred tool to support communities.
We don’t have many examples of Indigenous communities involved in carbon markets. But a few years ago, we started a pilot project with the Baka community in the eastern region of Cameroon, supporting them in protecting their community forest. The purpose was to ensure they would not get involved in the timber trade, they keep the forest without logging and to get financially rewarded for the effort of protecting them. This is similar to the structure of carbon markets, the only difference was that what they were getting was coming from an international donor and not from carbon markets.
With the support received from the international donor, we tried to encourage communities to get involved in forest protection. We were then told by the public administration in the area that there was no room in the legislation for protecting a community forest and the forest had to be logged instead. The understanding of the administration was that community forests are designed for logging and should be logged (this understanding is slowly changing as community forests have largely been emptied by logging). There was a lot of pressure on the Indigenous communities, and at the end of the day they failed to protect and embarked into logging, losing both the forest and money. National legislation is what’s needed to support forests and should be adjusted to support local and Indigenous communities’ rights, to give them more options.
Mongabay: And, hypothetically, what happens if the price to protect a forest or savanna were to go down? Or if carbon credit projects were not in place anymore? Will communities no longer protect these ecosystems, which may be threatened with deforestation by other industrial or small-scale activities? Does this framework depend on a constant flow of money, or are there systems in place to make community forestry conservation sustainable into the future?
Alondra Cerdes Morales: I think communities would protect the forest and resources even if there are no monetary benefits, because they have been doing that for generations. However, to actively prevent destruction, there should be proper legal mechanisms in place given that these communities face threats from illegal miners and loggers doing a lot of damage.
Samuel Nguiffo: I think linking the protection of the forest with a market price will be a major mistake, since it will never be able to do justice to these complex ecosystems. We should not be collectively putting ourselves into a situation where finances are the only (or the major) incentive for protecting the forest. Forests are much more important, and should be given the highest priority because of the unique diversity and complexity of their value.
Banner image: A lemur leaf frog in Costa Rica. Image by Rhett A. Butler/Mongabay.
Related audio from Mongabay’s podcast with Indigenous economist Rebecca Adamson, listen here:
Do carbon credits really help communities that keep forests standing?
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