Field Trip Reflections
University of Sussex graduate, Sam Nurney, reflects on his field trip to Ecuador, conducting research for his Masters thesis and working with Ecoforensic
Ecuador is beautiful. Abrupt changes in altitude support a diversity of landscapes and habitats, meaning a six-hour bus journey can take you through tropical forests, rolling pastures and rugged mountain crags. Life is abundant, and, thanks to the 2008 Ecuadorian constitution, it has the right to remain so. The Rights of Nature (RoN) grant ecosystems and species the rights to evolution, restoration and respect, but upholding these rights against the legal might of multinational corporations poses a considerable challenge.
The view from a community-led reserve in the cloud forest specialising in scientific tourism, ecological fieldwork studies and ecotourism. Photo: Sam Nurney
In the summer of 2024, I had the privilege of visiting Ecuador alongside my coursemate, Holly, to conduct research for our Masters theses. We visited two communities facing the threat of large-scale copper mining, and attended several workshops on legal strategy and communications for RoN, aiming to empower communities to protect their land. All of this was coordinated by Ecoforensic, a non-profit organisation that trains community members to collect vital ecological data to support RoN cases.
The context of resource extraction in Ecuador
Open-pit mines in Ecuador are an ecological time bomb that has been ticking since 2016, when the government began auctioning over 13% of the mainland as mining concessions. This included protected forests and Indigenous territories.
While few large-scale mines have come to fruition yet, international companies have poured billions of dollars into Ecuador with the hope of exploiting its natural resources, and by extension, the people living on top of them. Many of these companies are based in the Global North, meaning considerable portions of the Ecuadorian mining profits are diverted abroad. The insatiable appetite of the renewable energy transition is exacerbating existing pressure on resource-rich countries, putting Ecuador at risk of becoming a ‘green sacrifice zone’.
This resource extraction is a threat parallel to human rights abuses for Cobalt in the DRC and Lithium mining drying up rivers in Argentina, but this isn’t a new structural inequality spawned from the green transition. It is a form of colonialism, following the same flows of resources and power dynamics that have existed for hundreds of years.
Applying the Rights of Nature
The Rights of Nature (RoN) offer a legal mechanism for challenging industries that would cause species extinctions and damage ecosystems. In spite of the breadth and depth of this legal framework, however, upholding these rights is complex. The 2021 Los Cedros case was the first major success for a protected forest. This was a reserve which already possessed reams of scientific data (or in this case, evidence) from decades of research. But how can RoN be widely applied to unprotected regions with different ecosystems, where communities don’t have extensive histories of scientific data?
In-depth ecological studies are the first piece of the puzzle. They are undertaken by paraecologists: highly trained, highly motivated local scientists supported by Ecoforensic to bring community knowledge and lived experience to the forefront of these conflicts. But in order for this process to be efficient, it requires interdisciplinary collaboration.
Illustration by Ecuadorian artist Sozapato of the Rights of Nature according to Ecuador's constitution.
Lawyers target parts of the constitution that make a strong case, scientists decide what data would be most appropriate, and paraecologists collect that data in the field. The RoN strategy workshop we attended aimed to facilitate the functioning of these disciplines in harmony, and was a rare opportunity to have everyone brainstorming in the same room.
Reflecting on the Rights of Nature workshop
“It was incredible to witness the collective determination that arises from injustice…I felt like a very lucky fly on the wall – and we were in Ecuador, so that would make me a horsefly, or a butterfly the size of a human hand.”
The first day started slowly. Naturally, it took a little time for everyone to navigate ecological and legal dialects, and to hear updates from community members. By the third day, though, the chemistry was palpable. Pots of coffee disappeared in seconds as ideas and action plans poured forth in frenzied legal conversations which tested my Spanish comprehension to its limit. Dinner offered no respite as productive arguments led to hopeful agreements between mouthfuls of plantain, chicken and rice.
It was incredible to witness the collective determination that arises from injustice. Seeing the cogs of environmental law, community resistance and scientific methods interlock and whirr into life was amazing. I felt like a very lucky fly on the wall. In Ecuador, that would make me a horsefly, or a butterfly the size of a human hand. It also showed how important it is to work face-to-face, to breathe the same air as your collaborators.
While the internet allows these symbiotic relationships to continue, this workshop was invaluable for deepening understanding and allowing these connections to form tangible plans for future cases. A walk through the cloud forest on the last day was grounding and necessary. It reminded everyone how much that overwhelming few days could really be worth. What a beautiful place.
Reflecting on the community visits
“The hypothetical existence of a future mine drives people apart from each other, causing divisions that may long outlive even a successful legal case for nature.”
Speaking to people in the communities themselves gifted us with a different set of lessons to take away. Corporate greed infiltrates places like a disease, promising wages that are impossible to refuse for work that will contaminate river systems for generations to come. This socialisation often takes place before environmental impact assessments have been conducted. This deceit and manipulation makes resistance stories even more inspiring, with films like ‘Under Rich Earth‘ documenting the extensive oppression and maltreatment that must be endured to simply say ‘no’ to a mining company.
Graffiti of “fuera mineros” or “miners out” on a sign in the Llurimagua concession, prohibiting hunting, fishing and logging activities. Photo: Sam Nurney
Each case is unique, with some communities resisting fairly cohesively and others split as years of resistance have become decades. But their common problem is the social conflict that this industry incites. The hypothetical existence of a future mine drives people apart from each other, causing divisions that may long outlive even a successful legal case for nature.
Alternative sources of income are critical to nurture community support for Rights of Nature cases and maintain economic and social stability for the residents of places facing these threats. The paraecologist programme is an excellent case study for this, and future support for communities in developing tourism and other sources of income will be essential for an equitable, sustainable future.