South Africans love a good elephant debate almost as much as we enjoy arguing about rugby selections and complaining about potholes.
One increasingly popular argument is that contraception offers the humane answer to elephant management. No killing. No uncomfortable photographs. Just a helicopter, a dart and the comforting feeling that we have found a kinder solution.
But what if we are answering the wrong question?
It is not simply about numbers
Across much of Africa, elephant conservation focuses on population decline. In parts of southern Africa, however, the challenge is different. Elephants alter sensitive habitats, damage infrastructure and come into conflict with people.
These problems are often reduced to a simple explanation: âtoo many elephantsâ.
Yet elephant impacts do not depend on numbers alone. They depend on where elephants spend their time, what attracts them there, how often they return and whether they can move freely.
It is like blaming Johannesburg traffic entirely on âtoo many carsâ. The same number of cars can move easily on an open highway and create chaos around one broken traffic light.
The mechanism matters.
Same numbers, bigger appetites
This is where contraception becomes more complicated.
Contraception can stop population growth. But that does not necessarily reduce ecological impacts. Baby elephants already alive continue growing, and larger elephants eat more.
Estimates suggest that even if contraception stabilises elephant numbers, total elephant biomass could increase by about 25% over a generation, while foliage use could rise by around 21%.
Think of replacing an under-15 rugby team with fully grown Springboks while keeping the same number of players. Same team size. Very different grocery bill.
There is also the scale of intervention.
Consider a hypothetical population of 1,000 elephants growing at about 5% annually. Stabilising it through contraception could require treating around 90% of adult cows each year. That could mean roughly 230 treatments annually for 25 years, about 5,750 interventions.
That means helicopters, veterinary teams, drugs, darting and repeated disturbance.
A comparable long-term population outcome could potentially be achieved by removing about 50 elephants annually through translocation or culling across appropriate age and sex classes. That amounts to about 1,250 once-off interventions over the same period.
One does not have to support culling to recognise the legitimate question of proportionality.
We also know surprisingly little about the long-term social and behavioural consequences of repeatedly preventing reproduction across much of an elephant population. That does not make contraception wrong. It simply means it deserves the same scientific scrutiny as every other intervention.
Start with the problem, not the favourite tool
The starting question should therefore not be: Which management tool do we prefer?
It should be: What are we trying to achieve?
Do we want to protect riverine trees? Reduce conflict with communities? Prevent fence damage? Protect rare species? Restore ecological diversity?
Then ask: What is causing the problem?
Elephants spend time in places based on the availability of water, the type and abundance of food, the availability of shade, and how safe they feel. If artificial water points concentrate elephants around sensitive habitats, water distribution may be the mechanism. If elephants repeatedly enter farms, food, water, fencing or restricted movement may be involved. In small, fenced reserves, the underlying problem may be that elephants cannot disperse naturally. Only then should managers choose an intervention.
Options might include changing water distribution, restoring movement corridors, managing fire, protecting sensitive habitats, using deterrents, changing fences, reducing human attractants, translocation, contraception or targeted removals.
Often, several tools may be needed.
Nothing is risk-free
Every option carries risks.
Contraception may change population structure. Translocation may move problems elsewhere. Closing water points may shift elephant pressure unexpectedly. Removals may disrupt social groups. And doing nothing also carries risks.
Good management is therefore not about finding a magically risk-free intervention. It is about identifying risks, monitoring outcomes and adapting when necessary.
Context also matters. A small, fenced reserve near a city is not the same as the Great Limpopo Transfrontier Conservation Area. A drought year differs from a wet cycle. What works in one place may make little sense elsewhere.
It is like treating a headache. The cause might be dehydration, stress, flu or poor eyesight. Giving everyone the same treatment because it happens to be our favourite medicine would be poor healthcare.
Elephant management works much the same way.
Elephants do not read opinion pieces
Elephants do not respond to hashtags, newspaper columns or our preferred moral narratives.
They respond to water, food, safety, movement and breeding opportunities.
Decision-makers must respond to evidence, law, proportionality, transparency and accountability.
The challenge is therefore not deciding whether contraception, translocation or culling is inherently âgoodâ or âbadâ. It is defining the objective, understanding the mechanism, weighing the risks and opportunities, and choosing the least harmful intervention, or combination of interventions, most likely to work.
That may be less satisfying than having one universal answer.
But elephants, inconveniently, are complicated. DM
*Dr Jeanetta Selier is a senior scientist at the South African National Biodiversity Institute, specialising in large mammal ecology, sustainable use and wildlife trade. Prof Sam Ferreira is a conservation ecologist with South African National Parks. *