How Climate Change is Eroding India's Biocultural Heritage

Bharat Singh Chauhan, 66, lives in Pulna, a village in Uttarakhand's Chamoli district. Beyond the village lies the breathtaking Valley of Flowers, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. But today, more than being captivated by the beauty of this valley, he is worried about the fate of the Brahma Kamal (Saussurea obvallata), a sacred alpine flower that blooms here in August and September. Over the past few years, he says, the flower has begun blooming earlier than usual and is now found at higher elevations than usual, surviving only in a few pockets of the valley.

"This flower is offered to Lord Shiva and Goddess Nanda," Chauhan told CarbonCopy in early July. "If it continues to disappear from these mountains, it will not just be a loss for nature — it will be a loss for our faith and our community."

Weeks later, CarbonCopy met Poonam Topno in Bhusur, a village on the outskirts of Ranchi in Jharkhand. She spoke of similar changes affecting the Sakhua (Sal, Shorea robusta) tree, whose flowers are central to Sarhul —  a festival that marks the beginning of spring and the New Year for the Oraon, Munda, Sarna and Ho communities.

“When the flowering changes, it worries us because our traditions are rooted in nature," said 40-year-old Topno.

These two conversations, nearly 1,000 kilometres apart, point to a quieter consequence of climate change — non-economic loss and damage. Scientists are increasingly warning that climate change is doing more than altering ecosystems. Across India, changing flowering seasons, shifting species ranges and disrupted ecological cycles are also affecting festivals, sacred landscapes and Indigenous knowledge systems that have evolved alongside nature.

This interconnectedness between human culture and nature, called biocultural diversity, recognises that ecosystems, species, languages, beliefs and traditional knowledge have evolved together over generations, shaping one another in deeply profound ways. But climate change is threatening this fragile relationship.

Moreover, it raises a larger question: if conservation aims to protect nature, should it also protect the cultural relationships people have with it?

Biocultural Diversity

Dr Raman Sukumar, former professor at the Indian Institute of Science (IISc) and one of India's foremost conservation biologists, says climate change is forcing communities to rethink traditions that have evolved alongside nature over centuries.

"Ancient societies grew up living with nature and depending on it. When climate change alters these ecosystems, people are forced to adapt, migrate or even abandon some of these cultural practices because the species they depend on may disappear or move to higher elevations,” Sukumar said. 

For instance, he added, the pastoralist Todas, who have been living at the highest elevations of the Nilgiris in the Western Ghats for several thousand years, have been using many sacred plants as part of their rituals. Climate change could easily result in the extinction of such plants as well as alter the very character of their sacred landscapes. Experts warn that India must find new ways to document, monitor and protect this living heritage before it is lost.

Ritu Bharadwaj, Lead Author of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) and Director, Climate Resilience, Finance and Loss & Damage at the International Institute for Environment and Development (IIED), says the evidence of climate change driving interconnected losses of biodiversity, cultural heritage and traditional ways of life, is emerging from communities across the world.

"From the early flowering of buransh (Rhododendron) in the Himalayas and changes in the flowering cycle of mahua in central India to declining honey collection in the Sundarbans, we are seeing ecological changes translate into cultural loss. These are not isolated environmental impacts—they represent interconnected losses of biodiversity, livelihoods, traditional knowledge and heritage that communities have nurtured over generations."

Climate Change is Rewriting Nature

It is now well established that climate change and rising temperatures are altering the life cycles of plant species across the world. The timing of flowering, pollination and fruiting— par of what scientists call phenology — is changing, with many species flowering earlier than they did just a few decades ago. These shifts are disrupting long-established ecological relationships.

A study which examined more than 8,000 tropical plant specimens collected between 1794 and 2024, found that flowering time has advanced by around two days per decade. This suggests that climate change is significantly altering the seasonal rhythms of tropical ecosystems.

Scientists warn that such shifts can have far-reaching consequences. If flowers bloom before their pollinating insects emerge or arrive, pollination may fail, reducing seed production and threatening the long-term survival of plant populations. These changes can also ripple through entire ecosystems, affecting insects, birds and mammals that depend on these plants for food and habitat.

Evidence of these impacts is emerging across India. Studies have documented changes ranging from altered flowering patterns in Himalayan rhododendrons to climate-related effects on mango production. Research from the Hindu Kush Himalaya has also projected that Himalayan cedar forests growing in the monsoon zone could decline in the future because of warmer winters and spring temperatures.

Dr CP Kuniyal, a scientist at the Herbal Research and Development Institute in Gopeshwar who has studied Himalayan medicinal and alpine plants for decades, says, "In Uttarakhand, we have observed that delayed winter rainfall can damage buransh (rhododendron) flower buds just before flowering. When that happens, it is not only the plant that suffers. People who depend on buransh flowers for making traditional juice lose an important source of seasonal income."

Beyond the Himalayas, these biological changes have also been documented across the Western Ghats, the Sundarbans and India's dryland ecosystems.

These ecological shifts matter because many Indian communities do not simply live alongside biodiversity. Their rituals, livelihoods and identities have evolved with it.

When Species Disappear, Culture Changes

The concept of biocultural diversity entered mainstream conservations discourse in the 1990s and was formally recognised in the 1988 Belém Declaration, which described the "inextricable link between cultural and biological diversity." 

The declaration warned that as ecosystems disappear, so do the Indigenous cultures and knowledge systems that have evolved with them. Across many communities, plants and animals are not just natural resources but sacred beings, ritual objects, traditional medicines, seasonal calendars, and an integral part of folklore and festivals.

Besides Brahma Kamal, Rhododendron and Red Sandalwood (Pterocarpus santalinus) are among the many species that hold immense cultural significance. Rhododendron is deeply linked to Himalayan economy and culture as it is used in the production of food, beverages, traditional medicine and in the cottage industry. It is also the national flower of  Nepal, as the Brahma Kamal is the state flower of Uttarakhand. However, today, both Rodhodendrone and  Brahma Kamal are facing a clear impact due to climate change.

Climate change is rarely the only pressure on ecosystems. Instead, it often amplifies existing threats such as habitat loss, invasive species and overexploitation.

"Several natural populations of Masi (Nardostachys jatamansi), Choru (Angelica glauca), Hathajari (Dactylorhiza hatagirea), Ban Kakari (Podophyllum hexandrum), and Atis (Aconitum heterophyllum) are depleting at an alarming rate from their natural habitats. Changing environmental conditions are one reason, but overexploitation, illegal collection, forest fires, and overgrazing are also accelerating the decline," said Dr Kuniyal.

The story of Red Sandalwood (Red Sanders) illustrates his point that climate change is only one part of the biodiversity crisis. Endemic to the southern range of the Eastern Ghats, Red Sandalwood is revered in Hindu religious practices and valued in traditional, age-old medicinal systems like Ayurveda and Siddha. Yet, despite its cultural and medicinal significance, the species is now listed as endangered on the IUCN Red List. Scientists attribute its decline not only to changing environmental conditions but also to decades of illegal logging and overexploitation, highlighting how human pressures can amplify the impacts of climate change on culturally important species.

Can Conservation Include Culture?

The Government of India has acknowledged the challenge of biodiversity loss, as reflected in its policy papers. In Parliament, the Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change (MoEFCC) has said that India's National Biodiversity Strategy and Action Plan (2024–2030) aims to reduce threats to biodiversity through ecosystem restoration, species conservation, improved ecosystem services and the creation of wildlife corridors to reduce habitat fragmentation. 

The Ministry has also reiterated, in India's Seventh National Report to the Convention on Biological Diversity, that conserving biodiversity and restoring ecosystems are central to the country's climate resilience and sustainable development efforts.

"India remains committed to the conservation of biodiversity, its sustainable use, and the fair and equitable sharing of benefits arising from the use of biological resources," the Ministry states in the report. 

While the policy initiatives by the government recognise biodiversity conservation as a national priority, scientists and community leaders argue that the cultural consequences of climate-driven biodiversity loss—particularly the erosion of traditions, sacred species and Indigenous knowledge—have yet to receive comparable attention.

Bharadwaj says biodiversity cannot be viewed only through the lens of species counts or habitat loss. "Biodiversity and culture have evolved together over centuries. Communities have conserved seed varieties by selecting and sharing them across generations, while forests have survived because they were protected as sacred landscapes governed by customary rules. When climate change or other pressures weaken one side of this relationship, the other is also placed at risk."

She points out that India offers one of the world's strongest examples of this interconnectedness. "Although India occupies just 2.4% of the world's land area, it harbours nearly 7–8% of all recorded species and four of the world's 34 biodiversity hotspots.” 

Much of this richness, Bharadwaj says, has survived not only because of formal protected areas, but also because communities have safeguarded nature through sacred groves and cultural institutions. Examples include the devrai of Maharashtra, the kavu of Kerala, the sarna sthals of Jharkhand and the law kyntang of Meghalaya. “These traditions remind us that conserving biodiversity is also about conserving the cultural values and institutions that have protected it for generations," she added.

India's updated National Biodiversity Strategy and Action Plan (2024–2030), too, recognises that biodiversity conservation must involve local communities and the protection of traditional knowledge, while linking ecosystem restoration with climate resilience. 

Protecting Knowledge, Protecting Nature

Johnson Topno, Executive Director of the Phia Foundation, which works with tribal communities across 10 Indian states, says the greatest threat besides climate change is the weakening of intergenerational knowledge transfer. 

"Climate change is affecting Adivasi communities even though they have lived with nature for generations and have one of the smallest carbon footprints. At the same time, the bridge between elders and the younger generation is weakening. Much of our traditional ecological knowledge exists only as oral history. If that knowledge is no longer passed on, we risk losing centuries of wisdom about living with nature."

Dr Sukumar believes that one of the biggest mistakes modern conservation has made is underestimating Indigenous knowledge. 

"We scientists have often been dismissive of Indigenous knowledge, assuming that local communities know less because they are tribal or illiterate. In reality, they possess extraordinary knowledge about nature and even about climate resilience. Today, platforms such as the IPCC and the Intergovernmental Science-Policy Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services are increasingly recognising that this knowledge is essential for adapting to climate change."

Perhaps one of India's most significant biodiversity initiatives has been the preparation of People's Biodiversity Registers, which document not only local flora and fauna but also the traditional ecological knowledge associated with them. This concept, pioneered by renowned ecologist Prof. Madhav Gadgil, was later incorporated into India's Biological Diversity Act, 2002, making community documentation of biodiversity and traditional knowledge a key element of the country's conservation framework. 

Dr. Sukumar believes India already has the foundations for community-led conservation but needs to strengthen genuine partnerships with local people. "People's Biodiversity Registers are one of the best ways of documenting local biodiversity because communities can only record what they know. Their knowledge systems should be recognised and respected. Conservation cannot succeed if we simply tell local communities what to do. We must listen to them and work with them as equal partners."

Although these registers reflect an official recognition that conserving biodiversity also means preserving community knowledge systems, some experts believe that India has yet to realise its full potential in the face of climate change.

"India's position is quite unusual, and I don't think it has been used enough," says Bharadwaj. "Under the Biological Diversity Act, 2002, Biodiversity Management Committees prepare People's Biodiversity Registers that document local biological resources and the traditional knowledge associated with them. More than 2.6 lakh registers have already been prepared, while the Forest Rights Act, 2006, gives Gram Sabhas (village councils) legal authority over community forest resources. Together, these provide both the knowledge base and the governance framework that many countries would like to have."

"The problem is that neither of them accounts for climate change," she adds. "The registers record what exists, but they don't track what is changing. They are not linked to State Action Plans on Climate Change, nor is adaptation finance tied to them. Imagine if a panchayat could record not only that mahua grows in a village, but that its flowering has shifted by three weeks. That would turn these registers into an early warning system for biocultural loss, while generating valuable local evidence for climate adaptation."

According to Bharadwaj, protecting biocultural diversity will also require better ways of measuring cultural loss, ensuring the free, prior and informed consent of Indigenous communities before using their knowledge. Also, assigning clear institutional responsibility and financial support is important so that cultural heritage does not remain "just a paragraph with no budget and nobody accountable."

Topno, too, believes India also needs better ways of documenting cultural loss at the village level.

"When the flowering of the Sakhua tree declines, communities notice it because festivals like Sarhul are deeply connected to it. But these changes are rarely measured or documented. Gram sabhas should record such local changes. That micro-level evidence can help communities understand what is changing today and guide better conservation and climate policies tomorrow."