In the twenty-first century, environmental harm is an ever-present reality of our globalised world. Over the last 20 years, criminologists have made great strides in their understanding of how different institutions in society, and criminal justice systems in particular, respond (or fail to respond) to the harm imposed on ecosystems and their human and non-human components. Such research has crystallised into the rapidly evolving field of green criminology.
White (2008) has characterised green criminology in succinct terms as âbasically refer[ring] to the study of environmental harm, environmental laws and environmental regulation by criminologistsâ (p.8). This simple explanation, however, betrays considerable debate in the literature concerning what âgreen criminologyâ is and even what it should be called. Certainly, as a field, it has taken some time to gain momentum, especially in the USA. Lynch and Stretesky (2007) note the irony in this, as one of the first true green criminology discussions came out of the USA (Lynch 1990). In that paper, Lynch argued that the âgreening of criminologyâ was (to be) derived from a form of ecological socialism Lynch termed the âred/green allianceâ, the adherents of which sought to emphasise the inequalities of wealth and power in society which lead to increased environmental degradation while also ensuring it is the poor and socially excluded who bear the brunt of its negative effects. Certainly, a green criminology is often regarded as one principally concerned with the political, social and economic relationships in society that breed ecological damage (South 2014).
Green criminology has developed as an umbrella term which has undoubtedly served as a useful focal point for those interested in environmental crime, harms and risks. Indeed, White (2013) has commented that âthere is no green criminology theory as suchâ (p.22) and that âthose who are doing green criminology define it in ways that best suit their own conception of what it is they are doingâ (p.17). Certainly green criminologists are (like other criminologists) drawn from an array of subject disciplines with different methodological paradigms and epistemological leanings. Given the widely recognised benefits of multidisciplinary research (see McAdam 2012), such plurality in approach is to be positively encouraged as the specialism gains maturity.
The above notwithstanding, various classifications and definitions of green criminology have emerged. These include the so-called legalistic understanding of environmental crimes as violations of criminal laws designed to protect the health and safety of people, the environment, or both. This legalistic position can be contrasted to the socio-legal approach, which acknowledges that the differences between âcrimeâ, âdevianceâ, âcivil wrongsâ and âregulatory violationsâ are all socially constructed. Both perspectives may be compared to the concept of âenvironmental justiceâ and more âbiocentricâ or âdeep greenâ perspectives, which construe environmental crime as âany human activity that disrupts a biotic systemâ (Gibbs et al. 2010: p.127). Nevertheless, in a major contribution to this literature, Stretesky et al. (2014) have criticised the slow pace of theoretical development in the field, arguing that âthis lack of clarity about the scope, purpose, and theoretical orientation of green criminology proves difficult when it comes to identifying the kinds of crimes and harms that ought to be included as legitimate subject matter within the disciplineâ (p.122). In response to this problem, Stretesky et al. offer a new model of environmental crime. Their resulting âtreadmill of crimeâ theoretical model grounds environmental crimes, environmental harms and ecological destruction in general within the contemporary capitalistic imperative to increase production. In addition, the work of Agnew (2013) casts light on what he calls âeveryday ecocideâ perpetrated by individuals, and how this can be explained within the context of more mainstream criminological positions.
One of the key assertions made by Gibbs et al. (2010) is that â[g]reen criminology needs an interdisciplinary frameworkâ (p.129). The virtues of an interdisciplinary approach are of course now widely touted in most academic fields (see Matthews and Ross 2010), and for good reason. Drawing from a variety of sources and perspectives almost inevitably provides a deeper understanding of any given subject of the research exercise as well as providing the scope for transposing ideas and solutions between subject areas (Lury and Wakeford 2012). The virtues of an interdisciplinary approach are well recognised by criminologists (Walsh and Ellis 2007; Dupont-Morales 1998), but a criminological understanding of environmental issues demands an extra dimension of disciplinary cross-over dependent, as it is (at least in part), on some understanding of ecological sciences as well as the social sciences and humanities.
This book is presented very much in the spirit of interdisciplinarity which we argue is key to the continued development and ultimate success of the green criminological field. The study of environmental harms inevitably draws on a complex array of data, ideas and practices from across the social and physical sciences. In particular, it calls into question the interface between science and law, which Houck (2003) describes as a âtale from a troubled marriageâ (p.1926). Indeed, a number of chapters in this volume highlight the significant interaction between physical and social sciences in this area. Economic matters are also clearly raised by such discussions (Helm and Hepburn 2009). Perhaps more subtly, economic impacts of environmental harm are often inherently linked with more cultural and social factors, at which point we move into the domains of sociology and anthropology. Thus, the loss of the fishing industry in the Maldives due to rises in sea levels, for example, is as much a tale of cultural destruction as it is of ecological damage and (perhaps) corporate or even state criminality. As such, criminologists require the input of cultural experts in order to fully appreciate and incorporate such events. Studies of environmental victimisation also inevitably touch upon healthcare issues (Chivian et al. 1993), the politicisation of the âgreen agendaâ (Helm and Hepburn 2009) and the provision of insurance to those affected (IASIE 2009).
This book brings together papers originally presented at or inspired by the ESRC-funded green criminology conference which took place at London South Bank University in July 2014, noteworthy, we feel, for being (to the best of our knowledge) the first international conference to bring researchers in both the social and ecological sciences together under the banner of green criminology. The aim of the book is to allow for discussion of both theoretical and practical considerations that impact on the effectiveness of contemporary environmental criminal justice. The book discusses the social construction of green crimes and the varied ways in which poaching and other conservation crimes are perceived, operate and are ideologically driven. It also examines practical issues in environmental criminal justice and crime prevention including case studies relating to specific conservation crimes such as rhino or tiger poaching, or the illegal trade in wild orchids. The book provides a platform for emerging scholars to present new ideas in criminology with an emphasis on allowing new scholars, particularly those engaged in doctoral study, to discuss different ideological perspectives on environmental law enforcement, policy development and crime prevention, detection and punishment.
We have divided our collection into three parts. Part I, Perspectives on Conservation Crimes, contains chapters that illustrate the nature of the âproblemââthat is, identifying environmentally harmful activities and labelling (or failing to label) them as âcrimeâ. In this section, Samia Saif and Douglas MacMillan consider the example of tiger poaching in the Sundarbans mangrove forests of Bangladesh. Tigers are protected under both Bangladeshi and international legal frameworks; nevertheless, poaching continues at a rate that constitutes a serious and imminent threat to the tiger population in that region. The drivers behind this crime are varied but include self-defence (when tigers are seen as a threat to villagers), traditional cultural practices (including the use of tiger parts in traditional medicines) and economic (with tiger partsâfor medicine or as trophiesâfetching good prices, at least in the context of local economies). Saif and MacMillan offer a number of suggestions for reducing the incidence of poaching through both supply side and demand side interventions. They also provide some valuable methodological lessons, demonstrating in particular the need to understand local social, economic and cultural contexts both in enabling research and in developing viable policy solutions.
John Cianchi takes a very different point of departure. While international legal agreements and the national criminal law are increasingly used to try to prevent certain types of environmentally harmful activities, it is by no means the case that all such activities, or even those causing the most harm (whether to eco-systems or to those social groups that exist within or alongside them), are subject to such control. Indeed, a key thread in the critical strand of green criminology has been how the vested interests of powerful governments and corporationsâand, arguably, the global capitalist economic system itselfâleads to inadequate and unequal protection of the environment. It is in recognition of this that many people concerned with environmental harm turn to activism. Cianchi draws on two groupsâTasmanian anti-deforestation activists and the global anti-whaling campaign of the SeaShepherd conservation groupâto help us understand why and how such activists feel the need to resort to direct action in an effort to protect eco-systems and species that are not (or not suitably) protected under law.
However, while there are clear examples of environmental campaigning leading to the introduction of legislation, this is not the onlyâor even the usualâresponse of governments to campaigning movements. As Aurelie Sauvant, Wendy Fitzgibbon and Angus Nurse demonstrate, it is often the activists themselves who are criminalised rather than the activities they are campaigning againstâagain a reflection of the economic and political interests of those who benefit from ecological harms. The criminalisation of protesters alongside the failure to criminalise those individuals and institutions is a particularly interesting example of how criminology, above other disciplines in either the social or physical sciences, has a special position in shaping both our understanding of and responses to conflict between the social and natural worlds.
In part II, Crime Prevention and Detection, we move to what we might think of as âsolutionsâ to the problem of environmental crime. Amy Hinsley, Emily King and Pablo Sinovas open this section with a discussion of the application of the natural sciences to the problem of tracingâand therefore identifyingâcultivated orchids to distinguish them from illegally collected wild orchids and therefore help detect and prevent the trade in the latter. Although their example is specific, lessons learnt here can be applied broadly across a range of green crimesâit demonstrates the importance of the role of the hard sciences in developing effective interventions, as well as in identifying specific harms and crimes in the first place (e.g., in being able to distinguish between legally and illegally sourced orchids). But again, the particular role of criminology in combatting environmental crimes is neatly illustrated: lessons learnt from study of other illegal markets, and other crime prevention efforts more generally (i.e., beyond environmental crime), such as over trafficking and laundering, or over displacement and dispersal of crime, have important implications and applications for the fight against green crime.
Bill McClanahan and Tyler Wall focus on a different set of crime-prevention measuresâthe militarisation of anti-poaching efforts in Africa. Again, the specific example can also be read as a general lesson for a range of other examples of environmental crime, and again, the particular perspectives that criminology can bring to the conservation table are clear. Militarisation in anti-poaching at least partly reflects more general trends in repressive crime control policies and also in the increased reframing of certain types of crime (drug trafficking being another obvious example) as a security rather than criminal justice problem. McClanahan and Wall also return to some of the themes of economic and social inequality discussed in the context of Part II, exploring the role of (neo-)colonialism and racism in the construction of green crimes and officia...