When it comes to protecting wildlife and ecosystems, flagship species are key to winning hearts and minds for conservation. Large mammals dominate these iconic portrait galleries, with tigers, whales, polar bears, and elephants regularly serving as the faces of conservation campaigns. Some of these icons are indeed facing extinction and play key roles as umbrella species, but they do not reflect the full biodiversity that also deserves protection. In short: we need to praise the ugly ones as well.
I know, I know: some of you reading this may already feel your skin crawl, far from the admiration we might feel when observing majestic big cats or towering pachyderms. Few will look at a Californian condor (G. californiatus) with awe, or at many other critically endangered vultures which, despite their odd appearance, are key pillars of their respective ecosystems. Fewer will shed a tear on learning that many amphibians, such as the 5 kg goliath frog (C. goliath), are facing imminent extinction. Some may even feel a faint sense of relief knowing that snakes like Ashe’s bush viper (A. desaixi), crocodilians such as the Philippine crocodile (C. mindorensis), or sharks like the mako shark (I. oxyrinchus) could soon vanish from our world. Why? Because none of these animals has been depicted as positively as the ones we relate to most: the beautiful, charismatic ones. The ones that convince people that these ecosystems are worth saving.
The very civilizations and nations to which we belong have built their cultures around iconic species, most of which embody one or more of these sought-after traits: nobility, beauty, intelligence, strength, empathy. From the mighty eagle to the wise elephant and the noble lion, human cultures have shaped our views of wildlife for millennia. Some species have become symbols of virtue, while others have been feared and hunted to extinction because of fear, misunderstanding, or religious beliefs. Some of these judgments run deep and do not necessarily change over time, even as scientists continue learning more about these animals and challenging the poor public image some of them still have today. A tiger preying on a deer will always be seen as less repulsive than a python doing so. A raven’s brilliant intelligence will always be undermined by its gloomy looks. And the list goes on.
Mammals also suffer from this strange beauty contest, with species like the bald uakari (C. calvus), the naked mole-rat (H. glaber), the saiga antelope (S. tatarica), and many others being deemed unfit to please our eyes. The impact of these aesthetic preferences may not be immediately apparent, but their overall effect is to reduce biodiversity, in the public imagination, to a very small percentage of species people can easily relate to. Sure, this is a strategy that pays, in every sense of the term, as conservation funders will likely feel better about sponsoring a visually appealing big cat rather than a mucus-covered toad or a fish whose toothy grin looks like nightmare fuel. But what about their ecological roles? What about the fact that so many of these “ugly” or “scary” contenders are vital engineers of their ecosystems, aerating soil through burrowing, spreading seeds, regulating food chains, and more?
Scientific studies show it year after year: without scavengers like vultures, ecosystems and human populations face greater risks of disease spread. Without predatory fish like sharks, marine food webs are destabilized. Without strange-looking rodents, birds, lizards, primates, and many other species, forests would shrink and wither. Their presence in these environments makes possible the presence of the bigger, more charismatic animals. Biodiversity does not care about looks. It is about richness, balance, and ecological roles being fulfilled. And if the “less sexy” species start disappearing, do not expect the situation to turn anything but ugly.
