Norman (Project Palaka: Conservation and Corruption in the Philippines)

Written by Norman Greenhawk

When we started, Project Palaka was something of a “darling” of a project. As the first and only ex-situ amphibian conservation project in the Philippines, we were applauded for our efforts to conserve and protect Platymantis insulatus, the Gigantes Limestone Frog. With a natural range of just over 3 km² of karst in the Gigantes Islands, this frog is the only amphibian species in the Philippines to be listed as “Critically Endangered” by the IUCN. In 2021 and 2022, I led teams to the Gigantes Islands to conduct fieldwork and bring back adult frogs to start a captive-breeding project. The aim was to release offspring back into the wild, all while monitoring the populations of P. insulatus in Gigantes and working to turn the karst regions of the islands into legally protected landscapes. 

Today, as I write this, the project is no more; the ex-situ facility is shuttered, the equipment liquidated, and we haven’t been to the field since 2022. As for me, I spend my days trying to figure out where to go, what to do, and how to escape the Philippines; though I’m an American citizen, I don’t have anywhere to easily return to in the USA. I vacillate between ceasing to endorse conservation as a professional field and outright attempting to discourage young people from joining the profession. What happened?

To put it simply- the Philippines is a corrupt country. In 2024, the Philippines ranked 114 out of 180 on the Corruption Perception Index (with 0 being the best and 180 being the worst), placing it near the bottom third of nations in the world. This corruption is one of a few reasons why, until I finally leave the Philippines, I can only speak in generalities- in this nation, libel/slander laws include telling the truth. Whereas in most countries, such laws are focused on prosecuting false statements, in the Philippines, you can persecute someone for stating the truth, so long as you argue that their main intent was not to inform, but to defame. So, I’ll attempt to find the balance between keeping things general while providing as much detail as possible. Due to this necessity, the language I use might be somewhat repetitive and sterile.

As a foreigner, I’m required by law to have in-country partners. Project Palaka has had many over the years, and the actions of some have disillusioned people with the field of conservation. I can only give a brief overview, but here are just a few of the more egregious things I’ve endured:

• One organization botched the necessary legal paperwork for our partnership, leaving the project in legal limbo. When the issue of the legal paperwork came to light, they pressured me to essentially turn over my rights to the research and become a “volunteer”. When I refused, they cancelled the hosting of the project and took away my research assistants, resulting in me working slightly more than 400 days alone to care for the frogs, weekends included.
• One individual within a partner organization violated grant agreements, took data without permission, and presented it at a public conference without my knowledge or approval. This person even went so far as to put my name on the presentation, to make it appear as if I had given my endorsement.
• One individual within a partner organization purposely gave misleading information to the Philippine DENR, which nearly led to me being falsely prosecuted as a wildlife trafficker. I only found out about this because this same person contacted one of my former research assistants, and told him that the DENR was going to “remove” me, and asked him to care for the frogs after I was gone. 

This person explicitly and plainly stated to my former research assistant that he was not to inform me of this situation. Thankfully, his conscience led him to reach out to me. My lawyers were concerned enough that they insisted that I contact the US Embassy in Manila and explain the situation, just in case I was falsely arrested. In no small part thanks to the RA tipping me off about what was about to happen, and my lawyers’ skill and persistence, this farcical intimidation tactic was derailed.  

• One partner organization offered to provide employees to care for the frogs, so long as Project Palaka provided training. At first, this sounded like a great idea. Out of necessity, we had relocated the ex-situ project. There was just one problem- the new location was 270 km away from where I lived! 

My assistant director and I made eight trips between July 2023 and October 2023, training our partner organization’s personnel to care for the frogs, maintain insect colonies, and watch over the neonates. Yet, most of the partner organization’s employees working on the project were apathetic at best and outright hostile at worst. Thanks to the lingering downturn in work from Covid, they had been used to working six-hour days while getting paid for eight. Having to go back to full-time was not something most of them relished, and the frogs suffered. 

Easy yet fundamental tasks were ignored- rather than carefully selecting the appropriate-sized prey insects to feed the frogs, the staff simply tossed in random-sized dubia roaches, many the same size as the frogs themselves. Feces remained in the tank, crusted and uncleaned. Worse- between August 2023 and December 2024, we lost 121 neonates simply because the staff were too apathetic to remember to mist the baby frogs, “Sorry sir Norman, I forgot to mist the neonates. They’re dead.” became a near-constant in the group chat. Even the installation of CCTV and monthly visits did nothing to improve the quality of “work”. As these individuals were not my employees, I couldn’t reprimand them. All the while, I was trying to find the funds to relocate closer to the project and/or hire my own staff, but by this time, the funders were becoming reluctant to continue funding the project.

• During Christmas 2023/New Year’s 2024, an incident occurred that led me to realize, deep down, that the project was doomed. One of the employees of one of my partner organizations had been giving daily updates indicating that he was completing his tasks. But I noticed that my motion-sensor CCTV app on my phone wasn’t sending me any notifications. Wanting to be certain before I made any accusations, I got up early for three days in a row (before the start of his shift), turned on screen recording, and watched all morning long. He wasn’t checking on the frogs. The first morning I watched, he spent less than five minutes lazily misting the tanks; perhaps better than nothing, but his daily tasks took over two hours to complete. The following two days, he didn’t show up at all, yet still gave updates that he had completed his tasks. 

I notified the owner of the partner organization and sent her the evidence. I then travelled to the project; coincidentally, all this was happening when I was about to train two college graduates that I had finally secured funding to hire. When they and I arrived on site on January 19^th, it was something out of a horror movie. The tanks reeked of ammonia. Dried, crusted frog feces were everywhere. One tank had a bloated, dead frog corpse sitting out in full view. Another had a frog that had been dead so long, it was reduced to bones. Both fungal and bacterial diseases broke out, and we lost over a dozen more frogs before we were able to contain them. It was a hell of a way to introduce Project Palaka’s new employees to the job.

Later, I found out that the individual who had been skipping his morning shift had a chip on his shoulder; he wanted a pay raise to work with the frogs, and my partner organization had refused. In retaliation, he simply decided not to complete his tasks, and lie that he had. Worse, the afternoon shift apparently came in each day, saw the state of the frog tanks, and said, “Yeah, this looks great.” No one was punished, and the person who sabotaged the project still works for the same organization. I have found that this lack of reprimand is a common occurrence in the Philippines.

Again, this is just a brief overview of everything that happened. I’m leaving the Philippines with enough material to write an entire book, which I am considering doing. Eventually, after training our significantly better staff members and me relocating to the same town as the ex-situ facility, we were able to limp along for another year. Even so, the damage was done, and it became necessary to shut down the project, which was finalized in March 2025.

Perhaps even more disheartening than the above acts themselves is that there are both Filipino and international researchers and organizations that are well aware of what happened to Project Palaka, and they simply refuse to speak out. To a degree, I understand- I’ve seen young Filipino researchers punished solely for the sin of associating with me. I’ve spoken to US researchers who stated that they have experienced similar treatment in the Philippines; they, however, choose to remain quiet so that they can continue with their work. Even large international conservation organizations have looked the other way. 

The more I talk to people, the more I’ve discovered that unethical behavior isn’t that rare in the field of conservation. As just one example, I have an acquaintance who used to work with endangered amphibians in Panama. Her PhD thesis focused on the population dynamics of a critically endangered frog species. Other researchers knew of her work and purposely collected frogs from her transects for their own ex-situ research, so as to skew her data. Frustrated, she eventually changed her focus to snakes. I also have experience in Puerto Rico, Belize, Honduras, and Bolivia, and everywhere I go, almost everyone I’ve met in the profession has a similar story.

Toxic, unethical individuals have risen to places of high esteem in the field of conservation, and no one says anything. While I was working to stabilize the ex-situ colony during the disease outbreak, the person who tried to frame me with the DENR was sitting front and center at a wildlife conservation symposium held by one of my funders, who were fully aware of this individual’s actions. While I was travelling 270 km back and forth to the project five times in a month and a half, the person who took data without permission was giving a talk at a major international herpetological symposium. When I had to make the heartbreaking decision to shut down the project, the person who caused the disease outbreak in 2024 was enjoying his time working with dolphins. All the people who engaged in lying, duplicitous behavior are still working comfortably in the field. The only person who isn’t is me. 

Where has this left me, personally? Not well. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I no longer trust anyone. I’ve also mostly pulled back from my Filipino friends, not wanting to see them punished further. Financially speaking, over the last four years, I’ve spent approximately $35,000 USD of my own money, and a significant amount of other people’s money- including my National Geographic Explorer Award and my two Fulbright awards- to try and make Project Palaka sustainable, and all for naught. I put off personal and professional life goals to make this project work. I turned down a PhD opportunity, as well as a couple of well-paying job offers. I have a US nonprofit that has been neglected for years. My research in Belize and Puerto Rico has ground to a halt, as I’ve spent the last four years running around, putting out fires. I haven’t published anything over the course of this project; anyone familiar with the odious “publish or perish” attitude in academia/STEM knows the sort of damage that can do to your career. I’m 43, have lost everything, and am trying to find out how to start over. Meanwhile, the people who did this will suffer no repercussions. 

Whenever we meet, my now-former funders reassure me of the good that the project did. We laid the groundwork, after all; the people who decide to “pick up the baton” and continue conservation efforts will have something to build on. Of course, I want to see this species protected, but also… so what? I sacrificed the prime years of my career, endless hours, immeasurable anxiety, and a small fortune of my and others’ money, and I didn’t do it for “the next guy”. It would not surprise me in the least if some of the people involved in Project Palaka’s destruction ended up working with Platymantis insulatus in the future. Why would I celebrate such a thing?

Worst of all, I no longer have a purpose or coherent worldview. I’ve wanted to be a conservationist and a herpetologist since I was a child; it has been my single drive in life. After all, conservationists were supposed to be a different breed. We knowingly give up the jobs that pay well, have stable working hours, and provide stability, and in exchange, we get to be part of a group that is working for the greater good. Right? Except that’s far from the case, and I’ve found that the field of conservation has just as much corruption, careerism, and politicking as any other field, perhaps more so. 

A final, somewhat humorous note about corruption in this field- my current temporary job has nothing to do with conservation, but it seems that I can’t escape that easily. My new boss recently pulled me aside, beaming with pride. He is purchasing two tiger cubs as private pets. The source? An internationally known “conservation-minded” zoo in the Philippines.

For more of Norman, check out @norman_alexander_g on Instagram