While researching my current thesis topic, “Sustainable workflows in nature conservation films,” I discovered that sustainable practices in the film industry are predominantly applicable to major motion picture productions. Guidelines for sustainable practices in the film industry also primarily cater to these large-scale projects. The aspects relevant to my topic include on-set behavior and the streaming issue. The first point encompasses concerns such as habitat destruction, overexposure of certain locations, and disturbance of animals, as explored in my previous entry. Regarding the second point, filmmakers must weigh whether the film’s message outweighs the CO2 emissions generated through streaming.
However, this is insufficient to develop a comprehensive thesis. I attempted to broaden my perspective on sustainability to encompass ethical considerations, specifically the well-being of the environment and its inhabitants. For instance, I considered the potential disturbance caused by drones or the harm inflicted by flash photography on animals. Essentially, I contemplated the notion that no observation can occur without interfering with the observed subject, echoing Michael Crichton’s statement in his bestseller, “The Lost World”: “Discovery is always rape of the natural world. Always.”
Ethics, however, pose a challenging dilemma—where does one draw the line? When does filming for a conservation film harm the environment more than the film benefits in educating people about the subject matter?
It seemed like a dead end, but I was reluctant to abandon the topic. In recent days, I revisited the book I quoted (probably for the fifth time), “The Lost World.” It delves into subjects larger than dinosaurs wreaking havoc and killing people, exploring extinction and its connection to chaos theory. Earth has witnessed five major extinction events, each wiping out a significant portion of its inhabitants. We are now on the brink of the sixth major extinction event, predicted to be the most extensive loss of biodiversity in our planet’s history, possibly occurring sooner than previously estimated (Club of Rome revised the timeline from 2050 to 2035). The challenge lies in the unpredictability of these events—we cannot precisely calculate the outcomes due to unknown variables.
Using Yellowstone National Park as an example, when wolf populations dwindled into double digits within a few years, the entire ecosystem teetered on the verge of collapse. This illustrates the inherent instability of living systems, as nothing is in equilibrium—everything is in constant motion and change.
“Living systems are never in equilibrium. They are inherently unstable. They may seem stable, but they’re not. Everything is moving and changing. In a sense, everything is on the edge of collapse.” Michael Crichton, „The Lost World“.
“We don’t know what the key species are in every ecosystem. We don’t know which animal’s absence will lead to a cataclysmic chain reaction, and ultimately, we may be the ones facing dire consequences,” as Sir David Attenborough aptly puts it: “There is no reason to suppose that our stay here will be any more permanent than that of the dinosaur.”
Conservation films could serve as powerful tools to educate people and raise awareness about these critical issues. Perhaps the focus of nature documentaries should shift from merely showcasing animals and constructing fictional narratives to highlighting the research surrounding them.
Maybe here lies an opportunity to adapt my research question. I will ask Dallas who is in charge of Shark Week from National Geographic for help. I met him once in Croatia and maybe he’ll respond.
