Exploring the Amazon with Alice Lily Armstrong: How Culture, Deforestation, and the Illegal Wildlife Trade Shape the Fate of Wild Cats – Part One

Camoya Evans
Nov 20
11 min read

Updated: 7 days ago

Wild We Stand Programme Director Camoya Evans interviews Alice Lily Armstrong, a wildcat researcher, about her PhD research in the Amazon and the importance of integrating cultural and ecological perspectives in conservation. She shares her experiences as a researcher of colour in the UK, South Africa, and Suriname, which inspired her to found the Conservation Equity Project to support underrepresented conservationists. The conversation between Alice and Camoya emphasises the need for inclusive, interdisciplinary, and community-led approaches to conservation and the importance of challenging biases and fostering collaboration for a lasting change.

Their conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

Would you like to start by introducing yourself?

Alice: My name is Alice. I'm 25 years old. I'm from London. My heritage is a blend of English and Nigerian, and I'm currently pursuing my PhD at University College London, in partnership with the Zoological Society of London (ZSL). My research focuses on understanding emerging threats to wild cats in the Amazon rainforest, specifically in Suriname, Guyana, and French Guiana, which is part of the Guyana Shield. Alongside my research, I'm the founder of a community interest company called the Conservation Equity Project. Our mission is to address the lack of Black British representation in the conservation sector by offering mentorship, support networks, and, in the future, paid internships with reputable conservation organisations. This work, which I'm deeply passionate about, is rooted in both my professional experience and my commitment to making conservation a more equitable and inclusive space.

So let's start by talking a little about your research. Can you give us a quick summary of what you are working on?

Alice: My PhD is based in Suriname, a small country compared to its neighbour, Brazil, but with incredible biodiversity. It is located in the northern part of South America, nestled between Guyana and French Guiana, and touching Brazil. Suriname shares the Amazon rainforest with these countries. I believe it is the most forested country in the world, with over 93% of its land covered by the Amazon rainforest, and a fairly small population. It's only 600,000 people. And yet the population is incredibly diverse.

I'm from London, which is very diverse, but I came to Suriname and was truly blown away by the city's diverse population. Suriname was a former Dutch colony. And with that, Dutch colonisation brought people through enslavement from Africa, as well as indentured workers from Indonesia. So that's why there is a large Indonesian population here. There's also a significant Indigenous population. Later on, Chinese workers arrived, and then there were also indentured workers from India. So, there’s an interesting melting pot and fusion of cultures here. This melds into this really amazing, flourishing culture in Suriname and also into the distinct cultural beliefs and practices within indigenous communities. As well as within the descendants and formerly enslaved African people, because many of them moved to the forest and set up their own lives rooted in the environment and their culture. It's such an amazing place to be.

Camoya: Did you visit Suriname before starting your research?

Alice: You know what? I'm going to be very frank, I actually didn't know about Suriname until I started planning this project. I came across it by chance while designing my PhD research on wild cats, and I was surprised to learn about this country and was so blown away by it. For me, it was like this hidden treasure. However, I also think that in the UK, when I talk to people at home about working in Suriname, many of them can't even point it out on a map. And I was definitely part of that group. I think it's because of its Dutch colonial history that if you ask someone in the Netherlands, they will likely be familiar with Suriname. However, I suppose for Anglophone countries, it can sometimes slip under the radar in a way that, for instance, people in the UK are aware of Guyana due to its British colonial history.

What are the historical challenges faced by wild cats in the Amazon? What are the industries that threaten them and local communities?

Alice: For my research, I'm studying all six wild cat species found in Suriname. That's some of the well-known ones, such as the Jaguar, the Puma, and the Ocelot. Then you have three lesser-researched species: the Jaguarundi, the Margay and the very, very elusive Northern Tiger Cat. Historically, these cats have faced threats such as deforestation and human-wildlife conflict. For example, across the Guyana Shield, retaliatory killings occur after wild cats prey on farmers' livestock, which leads to some challenges. A newer threat that we're beginning to understand more, particularly in Suriname, is the illegal wildlife trade.

Ocelot (Leopardus pardalis) photo from Alice's camera traps

There was a recent covert study conducted by IUCN-Netherlands, which revealed the existence of a potentially sophisticated global trafficking network run by organised crime groups. These groups trade wildcat parts for use in traditional medicine, decor, and jewellery, with their teeth being especially incorporated. It tends to target the Asian market. So it travels quite a distance. Particularly with Jaguars, it's seen as a way to fill the void left by the scarcity of tigers. Tigers are hard to get to. They exist in much lower numbers in the wild, whereas jaguars are still threatened, but not to such a great extent. Jaguars are obviously still hard animals to acquire, but they are still easier than a tiger. These issues often overlap with extractive industries, such as mining and logging. These industries build deep roads into the forest, creating access routes for wildlife traffickers operating from outside the region. However, there are still significant gaps in our understanding of that. So that's a part of what I'm researching.

My research takes a dual ecological and social approach. Ecologically, I'm using camera traps across multiple sites with varying levels of human disturbance and then evaluating which wild cats we see and where. I'm also interviewing community members to understand their cultural beliefs, because wild cats across different tribal and indigenous cultures often tie into spiritual connections. I was really interested in exploring how [spiritual connection] might vary across communities that are a bit more isolated versus those that are less traditional and more well-connected to roads and cities. That erosion of culture is related to some of the issues and industries I've discussed so far.

Alice’s Research Assistant, Akondia, walking to the boat used to service the camera traps in Suriname.

So, I'm working in the Saramaka traditional territory. Here, these people are descendants of formerly enslaved African people who escaped plantations during Dutch colonisation and built communities in the forest. African traditional practices influence their culture, but it has also taken on a life of its own by being deeply tied to the land itself. Saramaka practices and belief systems are tied to the surrounding environment, and parts of their land are now being logged illegally–Kind of. It's a bit complicated. Suriname is the only country in South America where indigenous and tribal people don't have land rights. As a result, the government has granted logging and mining concessions to overseas companies without formally obtaining community consent, even though this violates certain agreements the government has made.

As a result, part of my PhD involves exploring these more well-connected villages in close proximity to where logging by overseas companies is occurring, and analysing the links between these extractive industries and the increased risk of trade and wildlife exploitation. I'm also speaking with experts in Ghana and French Ghana to build a regional picture of threats, explore similarities and differences, and examine the approaches being taken at both local and regional scales to address the various threats that wild cats face.

Camoya: And you're studying all six species instead of just one?

Alice: I considered it essential to focus on all six species of wild cats. As soon as I tell people I'm doing this project, they're always focused on the Jaguar. And of course, I am looking at the Jaguar. It's critical that I do, but there are several reasons to suggest that the other wild cats are also facing similar threats. I think it's essential to focus not just on one species, but on all of them in relation to these threats, because many of them overlap.

You spoke extensively about culture and the importance of understanding the social aspects of communities and their relationships to the environment and land. Was that something that you always felt needed to be part of research?

Alice: Definitely! Alongside the work I've done with wildlife, I've always been interested in working with people and understanding why things are the way they are. And this is separated in the traditional teaching of conservation and zoology. I read a paper that examined courses in the UK and Australia, and many of them just completely

neglect the anthropological aspect of conservation. In my mind, I had historically always kept this work separate. I've worked on wildlife, specifically people. Things didn't come together until I worked in South Africa, where I was part of a project that examined human-wildlife conflict. There, I felt that conservation can never be separated from people because it's simply impossible to do so. I think the industry itself is starting to wake up to that reality and is trying to push forward with interdisciplinary work to the best of its abilities. Everything is still quite siloed in terms of funding, so it was challenging to pitch my project because an environmental science body funds me. Yet, I'm also in the Department of Anthropology at UCL.

But you know, I believe that solutions don't simply arise from ecological data. When discussing conservation, it's essential to understand the social, political, and economic landscape that often creates challenges for wildlife and, in my opinion, requires a multifaceted approach to address the root causes truly. I had heard about the Saamaka traditional culture and that wildlife was an important part of it. In my readings, I struggled to find connections between it and any conservation work related to wild cats. And I just thought that was a great shame, because there are a number of taboos in Saramaka culture that are inadvertently conservation-related. Such as not going into the forest at certain times, types of trees prohibited from being cut, and areas you are not allowed to take from. Due to these taboos, much of the forest they live in is still intact. They primarily use the forest for subsistence purposes, so swathes of forest aren’t lost to commercial farming. They also have beliefs about spiritual consequences you can have from cutting off the head of a wild cat, for example. So I really wanted to explore that intersection of culture and wildlife. It's important to highlight these beliefs.

Can you share more about your experience as a researcher of colour? You've worked in the UK, Suriname, and South Africa. What differences did you notice while working in these three locations? What are some lessons that you've learned?

Alice: I think in all three countries, the experience has varied so dramatically. In South Africa, I worked on a human-wildlife conflict project, studying baboons and their crop raiding problem. We were trying to find ways to mitigate that by understanding what things they didn’t like to eat and informing farmers to plant certain things to deter them. But I don't know. In my experience, baboons will eat anything, any food. She laughs, but aside from that, I'd say South Africa is obviously a gorgeous country; the wildlife there is incredible, but it was a really challenging place to work. I worked in a tiny, racially segregated hunting town, and I was the only person of colour at my research site. I found that shocking, because I had gone to a country where most of the population identifies as black, so then to be at this research centre, and I was the only person of colour there, it was really complex. It made it even more complex for me, being in this town where the effects of apartheid were alive and kicking. It was, at times, extremely isolating. I remember really needing to talk to someone who understood how painful it felt. I felt like an idiot. I felt like I hadn't done enough research. Apartheid was not that long ago, and you can still feel it. And I experienced some racism there myself.

Most people at the research site were from Europe and America, and this forced me to confront how underrepresented I was. How underrepresented People of Colour are in conservation in Europe and in North America. It made me reflect on my undergraduate degree. I was in a really diverse city, Leeds. However, in my zoology course, I might have been the only black person. I'd always known these things, but I think they became so glaringly obvious after this experience. I reflected on that and decided that, when I returned to the UK, I wanted to explore and find solutions to this. I felt compelled to work on something, so in case anyone else in South Africa felt the same way as I, isolated and alone. And also, I had to return home to a sector that still doesn't see people like me very well represented. The UK green job sector is the least diverse in the country, after agriculture, and that's why I started the Conservation Equity Project, my CIC, to provide representation, support and mentorship to budding black British conservationists and people just interested in green work and opportunities.

One of the most wonderful aspects of my career trajectory has been working in Suriname. It's been entirely the opposite of everything I've experienced previously, due to the diversity here. I work closely with several NGOs here, including Conservation International, as well as smaller NGOs and indigenous-run organisations. It's nice to see a diverse group of people in the office, and for the first time, I'm not a minority in the workplace, which does take a little bit of the weight off. You don't feel the need to prove yourself too much, even if it's subconscious. That is something we do when we are minoritised in any way. It's a universal experience to be very switched on when you're a minority in any space, and having that [pressure] taken away has made things lighter. And it's really lovely to see lots of people from different backgrounds working towards the same goal. Someone I work with closely here in Suriname, has and continues to astonish me with his conservation impact, he just gave this really amazing workshop at New York Climate Week. And it is inspiring. It's inspiring to see people who look like you be so successful. That's why representation is so important, and that's why I'm a big advocate for mentorship. Because when I see people being successful, it makes me feel like I'm not ridiculous for wanting what I want. That I haven't overstepped.

Alice and prominent Surinamese Saamaka conservationist, Lindie Aboikoni

What would it look like for you to live in a world or community that centres care and eco-justice for ecosystems, wildlife, and communities?

Alice: I've seen a glimpse of this in Suriname, across other organisations and in Guyana. Organisations that are run by local people and engage with larger organisations. So, platforming the communities that are often implicated in a problem, I think, is definitely the way forward. Then, beyond that, making sure the right people are in the right rooms so these conversations aren't siloed. The data we need to collect shouldn't be limited to academic papers. There are a myriad of problems with that, because of paywalls and non-inclusive language. It's about ensuring that data sharing extends beyond academic papers. And I think eco-justice looks to me like locally led, culturally informed, and collaborative conservation without ego. Again, within academia, there's a lot of focus on giving scientists credit. And we need to move away from this egocentric work. Solutions come from an intensely collaborative, long and slow, yet incredibly productive and meaningful process. That comes from removing the ego from eco-justice and conservation as a whole.

Camoya: It absolutely does. I think there's a lot of ego that can happen in this field, because it is a field led by a lot of feelings; people are very passionate about it. And sometimes those feelings, under capitalistic and neoliberal rule, get hijacked a bit, and it can get very egocentric.

Alice: I also think it's really tied to morality. Because you know you're fighting for a good cause, so you are the good guy. And there are, obviously, in the simple stories we grew up on, there's a bad guy/good guy, but in practice, it's not that simple. There is no good guy. There's no bad guy. There are just different life experiences, different worldviews, and different needs. And those can come into contact and contradict one another. And it's

rarely this simple: good guy versus bad guy. You’ll hear this a lot when you're working and talking with people, and get that firsthand experience. Solutions are seldom simple, and that's where the slowness comes in, and removing your ego is the right thing to do.

Learn more about Alice and her thoughts on conservation and the power of interdisciplinary research in part two of this interview, published next Wednesday, November 26th.

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