Historically, conservation has mostly focused on numbers like population and habitat size. However, in the mid-2000s, scientists started to investigate animal emotions, even trauma, when considering conservation success. In a recent Mongabay podcast, Khatijah Rahmat, a geographer at the Max Planck Institute for the History of Science, shared her research examining how elephants perceive and navigate time, often differently than humans do, and what that means for conserving them.  

“If we want to understand and appreciate animals, we have to consider that they have a meaningful and complex relationship with time that is their own,” Rahmat told Mongabay podcast host Mike DiGirolamo. “Often, we think of time as a socially or culturally neutral phenomenon. We think, ‘Oh, if this is how we experience time, it is [the same] for everyone else.’ I bring up this possibility that elephants may have their own expressions of time.”

For elephants, this relationship with time appears to be deeply shaped by memory, including memories of trauma. In 2005, ecologist and psychologist Gay Bradshaw found that African elephants experienced post-traumatic stress disorder in response to witnessing violence such as family members killed by people. The animals she studied later displayed similar trauma responses seen in humans, including abnormal startle reflex, aggression, depression and even infant neglect.

Elephants have famously good memories to survive in drought-prone habitats. A herd’s oldest, and typically largest, elephant often serves as a storehouse of memory. She can remember water sources from a decades-old drought and lead her herd to them.  

“It deepens the scope of conservation in the sense that we can think of not just ensuring certain numbers of elephants but ensuring there’s habitat enough for them to exercise more intangible things like their memories of their places,” Rahmat said.

Some cultures have an understanding with elephant memory. In the Belum forest in Malaysia, Indigenous communities avoid elephant foraging routes during certain seasons. Built over millennia, this practice established a nonverbal dialogue between the two species, Rahmat added.

But when humans deforest, elephants may lose the paths they relied on to access resources and avoid people. In some areas, elephants have started to forage in the evenings rather than during the day to reduce contact with people, for example.

But these behaviors don’t mean that time and change over time are perceived by elephants the same way as humans, Rahmat said, and that’s not easily measured in a lab. In part, such research can appear subjective, which is largely a taboo for most scientists.

“Something as intangible as temporal experience can’t easily provide deeply empirical forms of evidence all the time,” she said. “It has to be observed indirectly. You need mediums. Mediums like behavior … But the effects that I’m talking about … are quite real. The phenomena I’m discussing are quite real.”

Listen to the full podcast episode here.

Banner image: Elephants in the Dzanga Bai forest clearing, Central African Republic. Image by Rhett A. Butler/Mongabay.

Researchers have for the first time assessed the extinction risk of soil-dependent animals, invertebrates and fungi. They found that some 40% of these species are either threatened or data deficient on the IUCN Red List, according to a recent study.

Soil hosts nearly 60% of life on Earth. These species are key for biogeochemical cycles, climate regulation and other ecosystem services. Yet, their risk of extinction is largely unknown, the study authors say.

To better understand how soil-dependent species are faring, the researchers first established a working definition of what species are “soil-dependent.” They found that 8,653 species on the IUCN Red List satisfy their definition: species that “spend a key part of their life cycle within a soil profile or predominantly inhabit the soil-litter interface.” The list includes terrestrial vertebrates, invertebrates like arthropods and mollusks, and fungi. However, plants weren’t included in the analysis.  

Neil Cox, study co-author and manager of the IUCN and Conservation International biodiversity assessment unit, told Mongabay by email that plants were excluded because nearly all plants are soil-dependent. Including them in the analysis would turn the review into one about the extinction risk of plants, he said.

Of the species they examined, more than 20% are listed as threatened with extinction and another 20% are data deficient, meaning there isn’t enough information to determine their conservation status.

Some 35 soil-dependent species are classified as extinct. Most of them used structures like burrows for an important part of their life stages, Cox said. For instance, several species of hopping mice (Notomys spp.) in Australia, known for excavating deep, underground burrows to escape the heat and predators, have become extinct, likely due to predation by feral cats and habitat degradation.

New Zealand’s Schmarda’s worm (Tokea orthostichon) is also likely extinct because of widespread transformation of its soil habitat and invasive species, Cox said.

Several thousand soil-dependent species aren’t even listed on the IUCN Red List, meaning their extinction risk hasn’t been evaluated, the authors write.

“Overall, though, it is extremely difficult for us to know exactly how many soil-dependent species have gone Extinct — primarily because so little is known about the conservation status of the world’s fungi and invertebrates, let alone the species that only live underground in soils,” Cox said.

To fill knowledge gaps, the researchers recommend establishing an IUCN Species Survival Commission (SSC) Soil Biota Task Force to bring soil experts together.

“This is a very necessary assessment,” César Marín, a soil ecologist at the University of Santo Tomás, Chile, who wasn’t involved in the study, told Mongabay by email. He added that the proposed working group is an urgently needed initiative that should be linked with other organizations working on soil biodiversity, including the International Network on Soil Biodiversity under the U.N.’s Food and Agriculture Organization.

Banner image: The dusky hopping-mouse (Notomys fuscus) of Australia burrows extensively in sand. Several Notomys species are extinct. Image by Boyd Essex via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY 4.0).

In the remote Dolpo region of western Nepal, the ancient practice of yak herding is facing an existential crisis. Traditional herders of domesticated yaks in these alpine rangelands are struggling against the convergence of climate change, rising operational costs, labor shortages, and the spread of lethal diseases, reports Mongabay’s Sonam Lama Hyolmo.

According to the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD), warming temperatures are fundamentally altering Himalayan high-altitude ecosystems. The shifts are disrupting water cycles, affecting vegetation, and drying out wetlands, which then increases fire risks and reduces available grazing areas for domesticated yaks (Bos grunniens).

The region is also facing a socioeconomic shift. Massive outmigration of young people to cities or abroad has left a critical shortage of labor for the intensive work of herding. Furthermore, the post-COVID-19 closure of border crossings into China has barred herders from their traditional rangelands, forcing some to switch to goats and cattle, which increases the risk of overgrazing.

These challenges extend to the wild yak (Bos mutus). While the total number of wild yaks isn’t established, estimates suggest fewer than 10,000 individuals remain globally. As rangelands are degraded and shrink, the habitats of wild and domesticated yaks increasingly overlap. This proximity leads to crossbreeding, said Krishna Prasad Acharya, a veterinarian officer at the Department of Livestock Services in Nepal. He warned this threatens the genetic purity and adaptive traits of the wild population.

While some yak herders once sought to crossbreed their animals to produce stronger calves, the hybrids are often too aggressive to tame and difficult for domestic females to birth, according to Naresh Kusi from the University of Inland Norway, who has researched wild yaks in the Upper Humla region in far‑northwestern Nepal.

Wild yaks are also threatened by the overharvesting of yartsa gunbu (caterpillar fungus), a major food source for the species, but also coveted on the international market as “Himalayan Viagra.”

The decline of traditional yak herding not only impacts livelihoods but also erodes the traditional knowledge essential for managing rangeland ecosystems. Kusi told Mongabay that conservation efforts must integrate local communities to be effective.

Kusi proposed establishing habitat refuges where wildlife like wild yaks can roam freely while livestock herding is restricted. “This could be one key solution in sight for wild yak conservation, given multiple threats for both the species,” he told Mongabay.

Read the full story by Sonam Lama Hyolmo here.

Banner image of domestic yaks grazing near Vijer (Tra) village in Dolpo. Image courtesy of Youngdung Jhama Lama.

In the Chittagong Hill Tracts of southeastern Bangladesh, Indigenous farmers are increasingly abandoning jhum, a traditional method of shifting cultivation. Instead, they’re moving toward the machan method where vegetables are grown above the ground on bamboo trellises. This transition is driven by a growing scarcity of arable land and declining yields, reports Mongabay contributor Sifayet Ullah.

For generations, Indigenous communities like the Chakma, Marma and Mro in the Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT) have practiced jhum, clearing small forest patches, farming them, then leaving them fallow for up to 20 years to restore soil fertility. However, as the number of farmers in CHT districts like Bandarban has risen, the fallow cycle has plummeted to just two or three years. This constant pressure has exhausted the soil, leading to poor rice yields and increased soil erosion during heavy rains. Government data confirm this decline: land under jhum in Bandarban dropped from 9,050 hectares (22,363 acres) in 2014 to 8,270 hectares (20,436 acres) by 2025.

Many farmers are now turning to the machan method, which uses bamboo trellises to grow vine crops like cucumbers, bitter gourds and beans. This system offers several advantages over traditional shifting agriculture, such as the prevention of pests and diseases.

“When crops grow close to the soil, they are prone to pests, fungal infection and waterlogging during rains,” said farmer Tipu Tanchangya, from Rowangchari in Bandarban. “Machan farming raises crops like gourd, cucumber, beans 4-5 feet [1.2-1.5 meters] above the ground, which reduces the risk of disease and water accumulation while keeping vegetables good.”

Unlike seasonal jhum, machan allows for multiple harvests throughout the year, creating additional income. Farmers like Tipu have reported higher profits after harvesting 2,400 kilograms (nearly 5,300 pounds) of bitter gourd in a single season — an impossible yield under the old system, he said.

Beyond economics, farmer Milan Tanchangya told Mongabay that machan farming is more environmentally sustainable for the region’s fragile slopes. While jhum requires clearing and burning large vegetation patches, leaving soil vulnerable to being washed away, machan requires only small patches for poles. The leafy canopy created by the vines further protects the topsoil from the impact of intense rainfall.

However, the shift from traditional jhum to a new way of cultivation is bittersweet. For the people of the CHT, jhum is not just a farming technique but a cultural identity tied to ancestral rituals, songs and social gatherings.

“The jhum system has been broken,” Prashanta Tripura, country director of the NGO Hunger Project-Bangladesh, told Mongabay. “But it is the identity of the hill people. For this, policymakers should take steps for protecting the comprehensive farming method related to Indigenous identity.”

Read the full story by Sifayet Ullah here.

Banner image of vegetables growing on bamboo machan trellises along hill slopes in Bandarban. Image courtesy of U She Thowai Marma.

Yala National Park, Sri Lanka’s most famous wildlife destination, is facing a conservation crisis as overcrowding and speeding safari jeeps increasingly threaten its wildlife, particularly its famed leopards, reports Mongabay contributor Kamanthi Wickramasinghe.

Block I of the park, which boasts of one of the world’s highest leopard densities at one animal per square kilometer (2.6 per square mile), attracted nearly 390,000 visitors in the first half of 2025 alone, generating more than $5 million in revenue.

Milinda Wattegedara, a wildlife photographer and co-founder of the Yala Leopard Center, attributed the escalating visitor pressure in the park to a social media boom and improved mobile reception, which allow drivers to quickly alert others of sightings, frequently resulting in “leopard jams.”

Leopards in Block I have become habituated to humans and vehicles, Wattegedara added, but this proximity has often proved dangerous. Past vehicle strikes have claimed the lives of a young leopard and a jungle cat, and a prominent male leopard named Lucas recently made headlines after a close encounter with a safari vehicle.

“Usually, when a safari jeep is close to an animal, jeep drivers have been advised to switch off the engine,” Ravindra Kumar, Yala National Park warden, told Mongabay. “But this driver had turned on the engine, and it had scared away the animal. However, Lucas was spotted the following night near Yala junction, the animal’s usual territory, and is in good health.”

To address the challenges of speeding and other unethical driving behavior in Yala, the Department of Wildlife Conservation (DWC) and the Wildlife and Nature Protection Society (WNPS) have initiated mandatory driver training and licensing programs. As of early 2024, only 552 registered and licensed jeeps are permitted entry, with drivers facing fines or license suspensions for violating safety guidelines or speed limits.

Further mitigation strategies proposed by the government include limiting vehicle entry to approximately 250-300 jeeps per session, installing GPS trackers on all safari jeeps to monitor and enforce speed limits, and diverting tourist traffic by opening up less-populated areas like Blocks III, IV, V, and VI to reduce ecological pressure on Block I, said Anton Jayakody, Sri Lanka’s deputy environment minister.

Srilal Miththapala, a veteran wildlife enthusiast and tourism and sustainability professional, told Mongabay that the long-term sustainability of the park depends on moving away from a “box-ticking” culture focused solely on sightings toward a model that prioritizes the quality of the wildlife experience and strict enforcement of park regulations.

Wattegedara said the ultimate vision is to establish the park as a world-class destination where leopard conservation and ethical tourism exist. “That is the vision that all stakeholders, including researchers, safari drivers and even the government should be working towards,” he said.

Read the full story by Kamanthi Wickramasinghe here.

Banner image: Lucas, a prominent male leopard at Yala Block I, was hit by an errant driver. He was later reported as being in good health. Image courtesy of Milinda Wattegedara.

On June 12, 2025, Everton Lopes Rodrigues was found beheaded in the state of Paraná in southern Brazil. An Indigenous Avá Guarani, Rodrigues was the 21-year-old son of the chief of the Yvyju Avary Indigenous village, and next to his body was a letter, left by his killers, containing “serious threats” against Indigenous communities.

Marcelo “Ku’i” Ortiz, a 33-year-old man, also an Avá Guarani, faced the same brutal violence a few months prior. His severed head was placed on a spike.

These were two of 26 killings related to land conflicts recorded in 2025 in Brazil, according to a new report by the Pastoral Land Commission (CPT), a nonprofit affiliated with the Catholic Church. Seven of the victims were Indigenous; another 10 were landless rural workers.

“Extreme violence in rural areas doesn’t happen randomly. It follows relatively well-defined patterns,” report co-author Claudio Lopes Maia wrote. “Murder has turned into an instrument of conflict “resolution” in certain territories.”

The number of killings in 2025 is double the 13 recorded in 2024. According to the report, 2025 was “one of the most violent years of the last decade.” CPT logged an additional 66 murder attempts and 105 death threats in 2025.

Most of the killings, 62%, took place in the Brazilian Amazon. Pará and Rondônia states, which have some of the Brazil’s highest rates of deforestation, also recorded the most killings: seven each. These included two massacres, defined as three or more people killed on the same date in the same place.

One of these massacres took place in Rondônia’s Vilhena municipality. In June 2025, assailants set on fire the home of Josenir Vieira de Oliveira, the president of a local smallholders’ association. He and two relatives, Alex de Oliveira and Luciana Cristiano de Souza, died in the blaze.

A few months earlier, Oliveira had reached out to a local councilman to report that a group of landgrabbers had invaded part of their land and was threatening them, according to CPT. Before his death, Oliveira reportedly quit as president of the association due to threats on his life.

In another case, in January 2025, a farmer fired three shots at landless settler Francisco “Cafu” do Nascimento de Melo, in Boca do Acre municipality, Acre state, killing him on the spot.

Neighbors told a local news outlet that the farmer had previously threatened several families in the region. “This case had a huge local repercussion, as the victim, Cafu, was very well liked by his community,” local police said. The farmer was arrested for murder.

Farmers carried out 77% of the land conflict killings recorded in 2025, either directly or through hired assassins, according to CPT.

Banner image: Munition on the ground of the Guasu Guavira Indigenous territory in Paraná, southern Brazil. Image courtesy of the Avá Guarani people/CIMI.