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The story argues that effective conservation begins in childhood, not in laboratories or laws.
Working with communities near protected areas, the author finds children’s curiosity far easier to shape than adults’ entrenched beliefs.
Early, everyday contact with nature—birds at the window, butterflies on balconies, stories from elders—builds lifelong empathy, making upbringing a critical, often ignored pillar of conservation.
Over the past few years, I have been working with local communities living alongside protected areas. Whether through conservation workshops, outreach programs in schools, nature walks, or simply sitting down for a conversation with villagers over a cup of tea, one lesson has been very clear to me: it is easier to shape the thoughts of young children than to change the long-held beliefs of adults. Upbringing is a major factor in creating conservation-conscious citizens and we need to consider it while designing conservation strategies.
The realisation did not come from just one interaction. It gradually came after hundreds of interactions with people of different ages, backgrounds, and experiences.
During awareness sessions, I often notice children’s eagerness to ask questions. They want to know why bears hibernate, why they enter villages, how hangul (Kashmir stags) survive in harsh winters, or simply why forests matter. They observe everything with curiosity. Adults, on the other hand, approach these discussions from the perspective of lived experience. Their understanding of wildlife has already been shaped by years of personal experience and way of living.
I am not suggesting that all adults have an extremely rigid belief system. Some are naturally more receptive than others to new ideas and perspectives. However, with time, beliefs become more rooted. As adults, many develop fixed perceptions about wildlife, such as deciding which species are useful and which are dangerous, which forests deserve protection, and which are of little importance. Changing such ingrained beliefs overnight is not possible and demands patience and meaningful engagement.
Children are different. A child approaches nature with a sense of wonder. Their thoughts are not burdened with prejudice or preconceived notions. To them, a butterfly is beautiful simply because it exists. Their questions are not limited by any assumptions, and their curiosity to know is never overshadowed by any fear.
Our discussions on wildlife conservation strategies usually focus on scientific research, protected area management, wildlife legislation, habitat restoration, and other essential interventions. All of these are undoubtedly indispensable. Yet conservation rests on another often-overlooked foundation: upbringing!
Long before children learn about biodiversity in educational institutions, they view nature through the lens of the adults around them. A parent who unknowingly pauses to praise a bird teaches appreciation of nature. A grandparent who tells stories about forests and their many inhabitants passes on a sense of wonder about them. Similarly, any household that portrays wild animals as a threat may unintentionally instill in children a fear of such animals.
Psychologists have recognised that childhood experiences influence the ideas and attitudes that persist into adulthood. Wildlife conservation is no exception. Research in environmental psychology shows that people who spent a significant amount of their childhood time in nature are more likely to care about it later in adulthood. This does not need safaris or visits to far-off national parks. This can be as simple as watching birds from the window, noticing butterflies fluttering around the balcony garden, or the trees around home flowering or changing leaves. Such intimate moments create a profound understanding of the ways of nature that lasts a lifetime.
Looking back at my own journey into conservation science, I realise that it did not begin with a university lecture or a research project. It began much earlier, through everyday experiences of observing nature and conversations with my father and grandfather, which made wildlife feel familiar rather than distant. Those moments silently shaped the direction of my life, and every conservationist has an origin story that rarely begins in laboratories and often begins with childhood memories.
Unfortunately, children today grow up in a drastically different way than they did just two or three decades back. Across the world, children spend less time outdoors than previous generations because of urbanisation, digital entertainment options, safety concerns, and shrinking natural spaces. Many children can easily identify some exotic animals they see in films, social media, or textbooks, but struggle to identify even one common bird that visits their lawn.
To them, rivers have become blue lines on the map, and wildlife has been reduced to images on screens and in books. Conservation learning cannot rely on information alone. Information tells us that forests store carbon, but experience teaches us how soothing they feel on a summer afternoon. One informs the mind, and the other shapes the heart and understanding towards nature.
This is perhaps why environmental education programmes sometimes struggle to produce lasting behavioral change. We often assume that providing big facts about losses in nature will raise concern among children. Yet, countless studies have shown that emotions, identity, and personal experiences are equally powerful drivers of human behavior.
If a child grows up hearing that a snake should be killed when seen, they are unlikely to even consider its ecological importance later. If forests are spoken of only as sources of timber or land to be developed with factories, roads, and buildings, that child will never see them as a living ecosystem.
Conservation, therefore, cannot depend or rely totally on classrooms and campaigns; rather, it must create opportunities for the children to develop that interest and relationship with nature before all of it disappears altogether.
Throughout my work with the communities in villages and schools, I have witnessed something remarkably hopeful. Children who are taken on regular nature walks develop curiosity about the natural world. Bird watching expeditions help them fall in love with the winged beings. Fear of insects and snakes transforms into interest in the species once they are encouraged to observe them closely. Our responsibility is to nurture this bond between humans and nature and not let it die.
When children grow up understanding that forests are living, rivers are life-giving, and rich biodiversity translates to a balanced ecosystem, they become adults capable of making better decisions and caring more about this planet. As conservationists, we often ask how to make this planet better. Perhaps the better question is whether we are making a generation that can protect the natural world.
And that task of creating conservation-minded citizens begins at home. It begins with a parent introducing a child to the beauty of nature. It begins with the grandparents sharing their stories about wildlife that once abounded. Above all, it begins with upbringing. Because conservation is not inherited through genes, it is inherited through real-life experiences in childhood that quietly teach the child that nature is worth protecting.
Kashif Farooq Bhat is a wildlife conservationist, researcher, and writer from Srinagar, Kashmir
Views expressed are the author’s own and don’t necessarily reflect those of Down To Earth