“Whenever we say crime, it should be defined by any law. That is a fundamental thing all over the world,” says criminologist A. Shankar Prakash. In India, however, environmental crimes are not covered under a single statute but are instead scattered across multiple general and special laws, resulting in a fragmented legal framework.
India’s core criminal statutes Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), Criminal Procedure Code, and the Indian Evidence Act form the enforcement foundation. Shankar points out additional special laws that cover public nuisance, disobedience to officials, and pollution. There is, however, no comprehensive law dedicated solely to environmental crime.
He offers examples, noting that Section 223 addresses disobedience to public servants, which can apply in environmental contexts. Section 270, he adds, can be used to prosecute noise pollution under public nuisance. Other provisions protect air and water quality and penalize the discharge of hazardous substances.
He reiterates the absence of a formal legal definition for environmental crime in India, noting that offenses are pursued based on the act and relevant law section.
Shankar explains that the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) plays a key role in classifying environmental offenses, publishing annual data on violations under laws like the Forest Act, Environment Act, Wildlife Protection Act, Air Act, Water Act, and others.
Shankar describes environmental crime as an umbrella term encompassing wildlife, pollution, and waste offenses. Wildlife crime, for instance, includes illegal tree felling, poaching, and entering protected areas without permission.
These distinctions mirror international standards. Interpol, for example, categorizes environmental offenses into forest and wildlife crime. “Forest crime includes floral species like timber and the felling of protected tree species,” Shankar explains. Though India lacks a unified definition, its categorization aligns with the global understanding of environmental crime as a complex, multifaceted issue.
Evaluating Crime Prevention and Community Collaboration in the Mudumalai Tiger Reserve
In Tamil Nadu’s Mudumalai Tiger Reserve, environmental crime prevention is a shared mission between forest officials and indigenous communities. Shankar’s research highlights “a deeply collaborative model where intelligence, training, and trust shape everyday conservation work.”
“My research is all about understanding the crime prevention initiatives of the forest department,” Shankar explains, “as well as how the local community, the tribal community, is actually supporting the forest department to prevent wildlife crime in Mudumalai Tiger Reserve.”
These efforts go beyond responding to offenses, they include proactive strategies that aim to prevent crimes before they occur. A key element of this is intelligence gathering. “Intelligence can work in both ways,” he says. “It can prevent a crime before it takes place and detect a crime after it has happened.” These networks rely on both official channels and trusted community informants.
Training equips forest staff to meet these challenges effectively. “The ability and capacity of forest officials, the training they are receiving is enough to carry out their forest patrolling or any day-to-day duties,” Shankar says. “They have some refresher courses to hone their skills.”
The tribal community plays an active role, contributing to both prevention and detection. “The local community is supporting the forest department not only to prevent, but also to detect if any crime is reported,” he adds. Their cooperation often hinges on “whether they are willing to share information or intelligence with the forest department,” a factor that can significantly influence the success of enforcement efforts.
Traditional ecological knowledge further strengthens this alliance. “I understand their traditional knowledge, how their shared knowledge helps them to assist the forest department to prevent wildlife crime,” Shankar notes, referring to their understanding of terrain, animal behavior, and environmental change.
He also points out the role of government programs in supporting this ecosystem. “The government-related schemes are supporting the forest department and tribal community members to move along with the wildlife,” he explains.
In Mudumalai, crime prevention is more than enforcement, it is a culture rooted in cooperation, respect, and shared responsibility. This model empowers local communities as essential stewards of biodiversity.
When Conservation Clashes with Community: Why Intelligence-Led Policing Struggles in Mudumalai
In India’s protected landscapes, wildlife crime prevention often relies on those who live closest to the forest. But in the Mudumalai Tiger Reserve, intelligence-led strategies isn’t as effective, not due to poor planning, but because of fractured relationships with the very communities who know the terrain best.
Criminologist A. Shankar Prakash explains that each tiger reserve is divided into two zones: “There will be a core area where no human habitations are allowed. But still, there are tribal communities living inside the forest,” he notes. “In contrast, the buffer area, human activities are allowed, even tourists.” While this zoning seems straightforward on paper, the reality on the ground is more complex and tense.
At the heart of this tension is the government’s policy of voluntary relocation. “If some particular locality is designated as core area of tiger reserve, through the voluntary relocation, that local community can move away from the forest by gaining some financial assistance from the government,” Shankar explains. “If they want, they can move. Otherwise, they can stay within the forest, claiming their forest rights.”
However, in practice, this choice often feels more like pressure. “At the operational level, there are still some pressure from the forest department to move the community away from their ancestral lands,” he says. The result? Mistrust. “There will be some conflict between the forest department and the local community, specific to core area.” And when trust is lost, so is access to crucial information. “Most of the tribal communities are not willing to share any information or intelligence compared to the buffer area individuals.”
In contrast, residents in the buffer zones tend to cooperate more readily. “Buffer area individuals support the forest department’s activities as they don’t have much negative interaction,” he notes. This difference in relationships is a key finding of his study: “That’s why, in my study, we identified that there is some issue with intelligence-related approach in the Mudumalai Tiger Reserve.” Effective conservation, he stresses, cannot operate in isolation from the people who inhabit the landscape.
Mudumalai is more than a wildlife sanctuary, it is also a stage where India’s conservation priorities meet the realities of tribal autonomy. The government may offer incentives for relocation, “The government can say, if you move out, you will be provided with some facilities or employment opportunities”, but many choose to stay. “But still, there are people, who didn’t want to move,” Shankar says. For them, the forest is more than a place to live, it’s their identity, history, and way of life.
Rather than push for relocation, Shankar advocates a different approach: “We need to honour their will,” he insists. “The government should support them.” Respecting these communities’ choices not only safeguards their rights, it also makes environmental crime prevention more effective.
Frontline Staff's Perception of Their Roles and Its Impact on Their Work
Frontline staff are essential to environmental crime prevention, particularly in forested landscapes like the Mudumalai Tiger Reserve. Among them, anti-poaching watchers, many from the tribal community, play a pivotal role in protecting wildlife. Stationed deep within the forest, these individuals serve as silent sentinels, motivated by a personal connection to the land.
“They see their responsibility is to protect the forest,” says A. Shankar Prakash, highlighting their deep sense of duty. Despite low wages and harsh working conditions, their commitment is unwavering. “Though they are getting lower paid, they are almost working 24-7,” he adds.
This dedication stems not just from obligation, but passion. “They love their job. They really love to protect the wildlife,” Shankar explains. For many watchers, conservation is a calling, rooted in emotion, identity, and belonging. “They want to do their part in protecting the wildlife,” he notes.
Anti-poaching watchers are not passive observers. Their local knowledge equips them with the authority and confidence to take immediate action when they encounter intrusions. “If anti-poaching watchers find someone entering the protected area, they will definitely arrest them initially,” Shankar says. This prompt response is followed by a clear chain of communication: “They will inform their higher officials, the beat level, there will be a forest watcher and forest guard… they will be informing the forester and forest range officer.”
A clear contrast exists between the field-level enforcement work done by frontline staff and the policy-oriented roles of senior Indian Forest Service (IFS) officers. While IFS officers bring technical, scientific training to the table, frontline staff rely on experience and hands-on knowledge. “Field directors will be mostly the IFS officers, bringing a very scientific way of approaching things,” Shankar explains. “But the watchers and guards will have more knowledge on the field-level actions.”
He further elaborates on this division of labor: “IFS officers are mostly in a place to formulate decisions and make things done at the policy level,” while on the ground, “the forest guards, watchers, foresters, forest range officers… they are there to enforce the laws.”
This layered governance structure reveals how India’s forest protection relies not only on institutional planning but also on the enduring commitment of those at the frontlines, often underrecognized, but indispensable to the survival of reserves like Mudumalai.
Strengthening Environmental Crime Prevention
Shankar Prakash emphasizes that strengthening wildlife and environmental crime prevention in India requires more than stricter laws, it demands systemic reforms, specialized training, and a cultural shift in enforcement priorities.
One of the most pressing challenges, he argues, is the preparedness of forest officers. A significant disparity exists between the training forest officers receive and the more comprehensive training provided to police personnel. “With regard to wildlife crime, forest officers need to be trained on par with the police officers,” Shankar asserts. This gap often leaves them ill-equipped to investigate complex offenses such as poaching, illegal logging, and environmental pollution.
Unlike police officers, who are trained in gathering intelligence, conducting interrogations, and handling forensic evidence, forest officials often lack exposure to these investigative tools. To address this, Shankar recommends targeted capacity-building efforts: “Special programs and refresher courses conducted by the police department to improve their crime investigation skills” are essential, he explains.
Beyond training, he advocates for institutional reform through the creation of dedicated environmental crime units within police departments. “Our police department needs to develop a specialized unit called environmental crime unit,” he says. Just as there are special divisions for crimes involving women, children, and economic offenses, environmental crimes, given their scientific complexity, warrant similar treatment. These units should include scientific experts capable of conducting laboratory analyses, collecting environmental samples (like polluted water), and building strong cases for prosecution.
Shankar is clear that India’s legal framework for environmental protection is not the issue. He believes a well-resourced, dedicated unit could bridge this implementation gap. “Once we have the specialised unit, the unit will have the manpower and resources. They can be able to implement all the environment-related laws in an effective manner.”
However, structural solutions must be accompanied by a shift in mindset. Shankar notes that environmental protection is often not treated as a core law enforcement priority. “Our people, as well as policymakers, still… are yet to give such importance to environmental protection,” he observes. Attention tends to spike during crises, such as heatwaves, but fades from view in day-to-day governance.
This attitude is visible even at the local level. “If at all someone is visiting a police station to register environment-related offenses, those offenses are not so seriously taken compared to other cognizant offenses,” Shankar explains. Overburdened police forces often treat environmental crimes as secondary concerns. “They are already occupied with so many responsibilities such as law and order,” he adds.
Because of this, environmental offenses are frequently overlooked. Shankar sees the formation of specialized environmental units as a solution to this bottleneck. “That’s why we request the government, if we have the specialized unit, that unit can handle the issues instead of the usual police stations.”
Ultimately, Shankar calls for a holistic, cross-sectoral approach. “So, it is a collective effort,” he emphasizes. From reforming training programs to shifting institutional culture and policy focus, protecting India’s ecosystems will require ongoing collaboration across enforcement agencies, government bodies, and civil society.
Message to the Public and Young Generation
Prakash’s message to the public, especially young people, centers on the importance of an evidence-based approach to environmental activism. He urges individuals to stay open to learning and to ground their actions in research. “Be very open to learn and also speak or do things based on evidence,” he advises, emphasizing the role of knowledge in driving meaningful environmental change.
He believes scientific inquiry should not be limited to professionals. “Research is not only the job of the researcher or qualified personnel. We are now talking about citizen science,” he notes, calling for broader public involvement in environmental studies.
For students and citizens alike, he stresses the need to be informed and data-driven. “I would suggest students and public to be evidence-based knowledgeable,” he says. “We need to gather any information based on evidence.”
This mindset, he believes, applies not only to global challenges but also everyday issues, from reporting a water leak to raising civic concerns. “Whenever you do things, do it in an evidence-based manner,” he explains. “Collect data, back any argument you make with data.”
Prakash’s expectation is clear: he wants individuals, particularly the youth, to think critically and act responsibly. “So, my expectation is that whenever you do things, do it in an evidence-based manner,” he concludes.
By adopting this approach, people can contribute to better governance and help shape a sustainable future, demonstrating how informed decisions can lead to lasting environmental impact.
Shankar Prakash’s Journey into Sociology, Criminology, and Environmental Crime Research
Shankar Prakash’s path into environmental crime research has been shaped by both personal experience and academic exploration. His early interest in human behavior and deviance began during his higher secondary education, where he was a dedicated middle-distance runner. “During my plus one and plus two, I was part of the sports hostel,” he recalls. “So I am an athlete, I am a middle-distance runner.”
It was within this athletic environment that he first encountered the issue of doping. Although not directly involved, Shankar was intrigued by the motivations and pressures that could lead athletes toward such behavior. “I tried to understand, from a socio-psychological perspective how an individual can be forced to get involve with doping,” he reflects.
This initial interest gradually evolved during his undergraduate studies, where he was introduced to criminology. Initially, he believed criminology could provide the right framework to analyze issues like doping and anti-doping policies. “At that level, I construed that criminology would be a subject for me to explore the doping-related issues.”
However, as he delved deeper, he realized that doping did not fit neatly into the criminological framework he was studying.
This realization prompted Shankar to reassess his academic direction. His growing awareness of environmental issues, combined with a curiosity about lesser-explored areas within criminology, led him toward environmental crime research. “Usually, everyone will have interest towards the environment, going to the forest, everyone is fascinated by the environment,” he notes.
Yet despite widespread public interest in nature and conservation, he found that criminological research in this field was limited, particularly in India. “There are not so many researchers undertaking studies related to the environment,” he explains. “Within the criminology fraternity globally, in the United States, United Kingdom, or European countries, there are a handful of researchers, only a handful still doing environmental crime-related research.”
This underrepresentation became a key motivator. “So that is another motivation for me to take up this research. We can explore new areas,” he concludes.
Shankar’s journey, from the running tracks of his youth to the forests of Mudumalai, reflects a unique and deeply personal trajectory. Grounded in lived experience and driven by academic inquiry, his work in environmental crime aims to fill a critical gap and contribute to more sustainable and just environmental governance.
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