The intent of this paper was to think more carefully – and more critically – about bridging organizations in conservation, especially given their proliferation in contemporary conservation governance (e.g., Jamal et al. 2007, Schultz et al. 2007, Jacobson and Robertson 2012). To this end, we drew on the political ecology literature to investigate how bridging organizations shape the social and political dimensions of conservation. We used examples from two conservation-oriented bridging
organizations in Bali to illustrate how they propagate particular conservation narratives, embody and exercise power and control, and the social consequences of their involvement in conservation. What are some general lessons learned from a political ecology perspective of bridging organizations? And what does this mean for conservation research and policy moving forward?
First, bridging organizations are not value neutral. Rather, each is a combination of individual agendas, interests, norms, and worldviews that can give rise to – and legitimize – particular interpretations of conservation problems and subsequent solutions. Ways of framing conservation issues are not necessarily attuned to the specific regional context or local people, and may omit other important trade-offs (i.e. they may only represent some voices). Moreover, the values held by bridging
organizations can be deeply rooted in broader organizational cultures and Western ideas about how conservation should be practiced, for what, and by who (see e.g., Berdej et al. 2015). These values may be repeated and reinforced to ensure an ongoing role for the bridging organization or to gain advantage with others (such as donors). Second, bridging organizations do not exist in a vacuum, nor should they be viewed outside the influence of other social and institutional debates of a wide-ranging nature (i.e., broader narratives or discourses). Bridging organizations – and their ways of framing – are frequently entrenched in ongoing (and global) debates about the
interactions of people and nature, whose knowledge counts in conservation, and how to balance protection of marine biodiversity with concerns for human welfare. For example, both CI-I and the CTC are tied to some of the largest (and most powerful)
conservation NGOs in the world, and are also situated within the broader social- ecological context of the CTI-CFF that has been funded in large measure by
international donors. Although beyond the scope of this paper, bridging organizations such as those examined here are dependent on fundraising, and should not be viewed as beyond the influence of the agendas of their donors (as per Chapin 2004).
Moreover, the scale at which a bridging organization is institutionalized can influence the nature of the organization. Consider, for example, how bridging organizations situated at different scales may have differential access to knowledge and resources, exposure to narratives and discourses, and the types of stakeholders making demands on them. While both bridging organizations examined in this paper were situated at the national level and with strong ties to international entities, bridging organizations at lower or higher levels are likely to be influenced by different types of actors and pressures. For example, previous work (Berdej and Armitage 2016a) has illustrated how community-specific needs and interests have shaped the agenda of a locally situated bridging organization in north Bali.
Third, through political, scientific and bureaucratic channels, a bridging organization can embody and exercise power over and in conservation. These organizations tend to reside in the central position between social actors/information flows/resources (as per Figure 5.1; Berdej and Armitage 2016a), and may ensure their own relevance via strategic alliances with others. This makes a bridging organization a powerful force that may go unchallenged unless equally powerful actors exist. As this paper suggests, a bridging organization can shift or sustain the power relations of other social actors around them, but not necessarily in ways that contribute to greater social equity.
Fourth, in conveying different interpretations of conservation a bridging organization has direct and indirect social consequences for social-ecological systems, which need to be recognized and addressed. Such an organization, as mentioned, can give direct advantage to those with whom it is linked via social connections, information or resources (Berdej and Armitage 2016a). Using power relations as an example, we have illustrated how ideas of conservation are laid out by bridging organizations in ways
that define who should lead conservation efforts and who should participate. While our cases illustrate examples of bridging organizations ‘pushing up’ (CI-I) or ‘pushing down’ (CTC) authority, these represent but two examples of the many ways in which power can be redistributed. These choices have consequences for either the
empowerment or marginalization of social actors, as was the case in Bali MPA Network where local actors have been largely overlooked in favour of higher-level authorities.
These conclusions are not meant to undermine the potential value of bridging organizations for more effective governance and conservation outcomes (as demonstrated by Berdej and Armitage 2016a, 2016b). Rather, they offer up strong impetus to view their influence more critically through the addition of insights offered by the political ecology literature. It is clear from the examples of the Bali MPA
Network and Nusa Penida MPA that bridging organizations are influential in shaping the politics of conservation. Indeed, there is still a crucial need for bridging
organizations to act as coordinating bodies for conservation initiatives and policies, and to direct resources and expertise where needed (as per Berdej and Armitage 2016a, 2016b). This is especially true in countries such as Indonesia where bridging organizations have significant influence on a wide range of actors and conservation processes.
At the same time, however, there is need for greater transparency of the roles and influences of bridging organizations. Moving forward, we suggest that the political ecology of bridging organizations provides a useful entry point for researchers, policy makers and resource managers to think through and evaluate how conservation initiatives operate. Using a political ecology lens would encourage the deconstruction of narratives and assumptions, critical reflection on power dynamics, and would raise important questions of human wellbeing and social equity in the analysis of impacts and outcomes. Moreover, the inclusion of other critical literatures such as those on the politics of knowledge (e.g., Forsyth 2003) or the politics of scale (e.g., Sievanen et al. 2012) could also provide more pointed lines of inquiry in critical investigation. Taking a closer look at bridging organizations may reveal instances where they may not be
relevant to specific social-ecological conservation contexts, or where interpretations of problems and solutions may be skewed or oversimplified.
Finally, we want to encourage more research on the political ecology of bridging organization across contexts – do bridging organizations embody single or multiple narratives? In what ways do impacts differ under local versus international bridging organizations? Do they affect long-term environmental policy and management? How well do interventions succeed when bridging organizations depart? This paper offers a productive way forward in our pursuit of a more comprehensive and critical
understanding of bridging organizations in coastal-marine conservation. Identifying how bridging organizations shape narratives, and what actions and consequences flow from these narratives, can contribute to more effective interventions and conservation policy.