Impending annihilation. Apocalypse of the natural world. Escalating pace of extinction.
For every new body of work, I find myself writing an introduction that speaks of such things. How does one not let out the same scream of existential despair, frustration and rage?
As a result, I think that many of us are in danger of hitting a kind of outrage overload. Or we already have hit it, pummeled into a kind of overwhelmed apathy. There is only so much bad news that we can tolerate before we break down or shut down in mental self-defense.
This seems especially the case in relation to the destruction of the natural world and our fellow creatures. This destruction is happening even faster than pessimists like myself imagined.
We are experiencing the antithesis of creation right now. It took billions of years to reach a place of such wondrous diversity, and then in just a few short years - an infinitesimally microscopic moment of time - to annihilate that.
I could have photographed this concept just about anywhere in the developing world that animals still cling to an existence in the face of the relentless spread of humankind.
And if you live in a developed country, you could be witness to a more quiet, but just as devastating environmental armageddon, as bees, bats, birds and an astonishing number of other creatures that are at the essential core of a functioning ecosystem - that ultimately protects you as well - is scraped off the face of the earth.
However, I chose to photograph in East Africa, partly because it remains the place that over the last 15 years has most moved and fascinated me, where the great mythical animals of the African plains have always seized my imagination. But those mythical animals are rapidly disappearing, and one of the most significant reason is because of space. Or actually, the very finite amount of space.
Space for more people, more homes, more factories and roads and towns. More farmland, more livestock, more grazing, all more food for people, leading to an eroded land in which animals and humans compete, but where the people will always win.
The giraffes, their legs literally cut out from beneath them for bush meat. The lions, poisoned to stop them from killing herders’ livestock. The elephants - everyone knows about poaching for their ivory now - but more and more, killed in conflict with people, as elephants find that land which such a short time ago was wild habitat has been converted to farms.
I’ve driven through countless areas where just fifteen to twenty years ago there was abundant animal life, but now has been wiped out - sliced up and reduced to bush meat, leaving vast expanses of land devoid of any large mammals.
By 2030, Africa’s population is projected to reach 1.6 billion, up from 1 billion in 2018. The countries of East Africa, where this series was photographed - is one of the hotspots for that. All those people have to live somewhere. And this is the other reason – the explosion of human population here - why this project is so relevant to East Africa.
We tend to think that paradise was lost many decades ago, but actually, in the comparative scheme of things, the escalation in killing is fairly recent. The number of wild animals on the planet has halved in just the past 40 years, and for many animals, it’s even worse in Africa.
Look at these numbers, which apply to the entire African continent:
1985. To put that in perspective for those of you alive and conscious then, 1985 was the year of Talking Heads’ Road to Nowhere and Dire Straits’ Money for Nothing, of Back to the Future, and ironically, Out of Africa. Not so long ago at all.
So the East Africa of our imaginations - a romanticized view of vast expanses of unspoiled wilderness - is sadly out-dated. In truth, there is almost no park or reserve big enough for the animals to live out their lives safely. And outside of those often surprisingly small areas, the animals are being relentlessly squeezed out and hunted down. It’s reaching the point where it’s unlikely that any large mammal can survive on unprotected land.
In an ideal world, the beauty and majesty of these animals, and respect for all living things, would be enough to justify their continued existence. But that won’t be enough to save them.
Many Africans would say that Western societies destroyed most of their own natural world centuries ago in the interests of economic expansion, and that in Africa, now it is their long overdue turn to economically grow. Why should they be deprived of the comfortable lives that most people have in the West? In many ways, it’s a reasonable argument. But protection of the environment and economic benefit can go hand in hand.
In many areas of East Africa where these animals do still exist - poor but still teeming with natural wonders - ecotourism is often the only truly significant source of long term economic benefit for the local communities. Take away the animals, and there is usually little left of economic value.
This line of argument for preservation is more pragmatic than poetic, but it’s the most effective argument in the 21st century. Somewhere like Kenya, the tourism industry - the second largest sector of Kenya’s economy - would collapse without those animals. Few would come visit a world of livestock and dust.
For every new body of work, I find myself writing an introduction that speaks of such things. How does one not let out the same scream of existential despair, frustration and rage?
As a result, I think that many of us are in danger of hitting a kind of outrage overload. Or we already have hit it, pummeled into a kind of overwhelmed apathy. There is only so much bad news that we can tolerate before we break down or shut down in mental self-defense.
This seems especially the case in relation to the destruction of the natural world and our fellow creatures. This destruction is happening even faster than pessimists like myself imagined.
We are experiencing the antithesis of creation right now. It took billions of years to reach a place of such wondrous diversity, and then in just a few short years - an infinitesimally microscopic moment of time - to annihilate that.
I could have photographed this concept just about anywhere in the developing world that animals still cling to an existence in the face of the relentless spread of humankind.
And if you live in a developed country, you could be witness to a more quiet, but just as devastating environmental armageddon, as bees, bats, birds and an astonishing number of other creatures that are at the essential core of a functioning ecosystem - that ultimately protects you as well - is scraped off the face of the earth.
However, I chose to photograph in East Africa, partly because it remains the place that over the last 15 years has most moved and fascinated me, where the great mythical animals of the African plains have always seized my imagination. But those mythical animals are rapidly disappearing, and one of the most significant reason is because of space. Or actually, the very finite amount of space.
Space for more people, more homes, more factories and roads and towns. More farmland, more livestock, more grazing, all more food for people, leading to an eroded land in which animals and humans compete, but where the people will always win.
The giraffes, their legs literally cut out from beneath them for bush meat. The lions, poisoned to stop them from killing herders’ livestock. The elephants - everyone knows about poaching for their ivory now - but more and more, killed in conflict with people, as elephants find that land which such a short time ago was wild habitat has been converted to farms.
I’ve driven through countless areas where just fifteen to twenty years ago there was abundant animal life, but now has been wiped out - sliced up and reduced to bush meat, leaving vast expanses of land devoid of any large mammals.
By 2030, Africa’s population is projected to reach 1.6 billion, up from 1 billion in 2018. The countries of East Africa, where this series was photographed - is one of the hotspots for that. All those people have to live somewhere. And this is the other reason – the explosion of human population here - why this project is so relevant to East Africa.
We tend to think that paradise was lost many decades ago, but actually, in the comparative scheme of things, the escalation in killing is fairly recent. The number of wild animals on the planet has halved in just the past 40 years, and for many animals, it’s even worse in Africa.
Look at these numbers, which apply to the entire African continent:
- Lion: population down 80% since the 1960’s, to just 20,000 in 2018.
- Cheetah: down 65% since 1975, to just 7000 now, driven out of 90% of its historic range.
- Elephant: down 70% since the early 1970’s, to perhaps 400,000 today.
- Giraffe: down 40% decline since the year 1985.
1985. To put that in perspective for those of you alive and conscious then, 1985 was the year of Talking Heads’ Road to Nowhere and Dire Straits’ Money for Nothing, of Back to the Future, and ironically, Out of Africa. Not so long ago at all.
So the East Africa of our imaginations - a romanticized view of vast expanses of unspoiled wilderness - is sadly out-dated. In truth, there is almost no park or reserve big enough for the animals to live out their lives safely. And outside of those often surprisingly small areas, the animals are being relentlessly squeezed out and hunted down. It’s reaching the point where it’s unlikely that any large mammal can survive on unprotected land.
In an ideal world, the beauty and majesty of these animals, and respect for all living things, would be enough to justify their continued existence. But that won’t be enough to save them.
Many Africans would say that Western societies destroyed most of their own natural world centuries ago in the interests of economic expansion, and that in Africa, now it is their long overdue turn to economically grow. Why should they be deprived of the comfortable lives that most people have in the West? In many ways, it’s a reasonable argument. But protection of the environment and economic benefit can go hand in hand.
In many areas of East Africa where these animals do still exist - poor but still teeming with natural wonders - ecotourism is often the only truly significant source of long term economic benefit for the local communities. Take away the animals, and there is usually little left of economic value.
This line of argument for preservation is more pragmatic than poetic, but it’s the most effective argument in the 21st century. Somewhere like Kenya, the tourism industry - the second largest sector of Kenya’s economy - would collapse without those animals. Few would come visit a world of livestock and dust.
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