FIELDWORK / LIJU — PLANTS, PEOPLE & JUSTICE ATLAS
The Atlas turns field evidence into six connected arguments. The first two trace environmental pressure from household livelihood to a specific ecological conflict; the next two examine how conservation redistributes value and authority; the final two ask who can afford conservation labor and who has power over its future.
Each map combines household testimony, field observation, and ecological context. They are visual arguments — drawn, not decorative.
Environmental pressure in Liju is produced through relationships among livelihood insecurity, markets, labor, migration, tourism, conservation, and ecological change. The first two maps trace that chain from household livelihood to a concrete ecological conflict.
Biodiversity creates visibility and economic value. The middle maps ask who captures that value, and which forms of knowledge are given authority over the mountain.
The final maps examine the everyday time required for conservation work, and how decision-making power is distributed among households, guides, conservation organizations, science, government, visitors, and future generations.
No single livelihood is stable. Households combine livestock, tourism and homestay, wage labor migration, bird guiding and nature work, and medicinal crops to survive an uncertain landscape.
What it means for justice — environmental pressure cannot be separated from livelihood insecurity.
Bamboo decline is the result of many claims shaped by livelihood needs and limited alternatives: cattle browsing, material use, and other land use press on regeneration at once.
What it means for justice — the cost of changing resource use must not fall only on households nearest the protected landscape.
Ecological rarity becomes scientific recognition, conservation attention, visibility and access, then tourism and economic value. Rarity increases interest — while habitat stays under stress.
What it means for justice — who captures the value created by biodiversity?
Botanists and scientists, bird guides, herders, medicinal-plant growers, and long-term residents notice different things. Authority runs from knowledge holder to heard, recognized, and powerful.
What it means for justice — conservation must share authority.
A day in the lives of a local mother with a young child, a young person working in town, a bird guide, and an urban university student — showing very different amounts of free time.
What it means for justice — conservation labor should not depend on unpaid time that some people cannot afford to give.
A power map of who provides knowledge, who does the labor, who bears the costs, who holds formal decision power, and how decisions are influenced across seven groups of actors.
What it means for justice — meaningful participation begins before decisions are made.
Across the six maps, different stories reveal the same underlying pattern: livelihood insecurity, markets, labor, migration, tourism, conservation, and ecological change produce environmental pressure together. Explaining why those pressures emerge raises another question — when conservation responds, how are its consequences distributed?
The matrix above turns that analysis into adjustments: Shanhe bears development costs while visitor income is designed to return locally; local mountain knowledge informs site, infrastructure, and visitor design; and garden and tourism direction are jointly discussed with local collaborators.
