Cash for Photos: How an Indonesian Program Turns Hunters Into Protectors

LABIAN, Indonesia — Octavius wades through the forest in rubber boots and tattered joggers, ears pricked and eyes peeled, a telephoto lens on his phone ready to capture orangutans, monkeys or birds.
The daily photo hunt earns Octavius and hundreds of others on Borneo cash as part of a conservation program that aims to make wild animals worth more alive than dead.
For generations, people on the island have made money by hunting wild songbirds and selling them, mainly to domestic buyers. The KehatiKu project seeks to break that cycle by paying residents in nine villages in West Kalimantan province for photos or recordings of animals instead.
Payments range from 5,000 rupiah, or about $0.30, for observing a common bird to 130,000 rupiah for spotting an endangered orangutan, the program's top prize.
The most successful observers can earn up to 10 million rupiah a month—about $570—several times the income of an average farmworker.
The extra cash “really helps, especially to pay for my children's college,” said 50-year-old Octavius, who, like many Indonesians, uses a single name.
Run by environmental consultancy Borneo Futures, the program began two years ago and generates data on wildlife distribution and population changes. Most participants are small-scale farmers growing rice, cacao, durian and kratom, a stimulant plant.
Changing the calculus
Early signs suggest the scheme is working.
“People have started to realize that where previously they caught one bird and it was worth 50,000 rupiah, now they just need to take a photo, send it to us, and they can receive a payment of 5,000 to 10,000 rupiah,” Nardiyono, director of Borneo Futures Indonesia, told AFP.
“If they take just five photos, they (may) earn 50,000 rupiah, and the bird is still in their environment, still observable, and still able to reproduce, so the potential income from observing birds is far greater than from hunting birds.”
The shifting logic has prompted two participating villages to voluntarily introduce hunting bans since the project started, Nardiyono added.
The program is funded by philanthropic foundations and has received about $300,000 to date, according to Borneo Futures. Half has gone toward development, including a mobile app for uploading animal sightings and an AI system that helps people verify observations.
So far, users have submitted more than 350,000 observations, about half of which have been validated and paid for. Invalid entries might include multiple observations of the same animal or a species not on the program's list.
A side job, a new income
In September, Octavius and dozens of others gathered at the tiny office in Labian village, population 683, for their monthly payments. His share was four million rupiah, or nearly $230.
“This is a side-job; it doesn't interfere” with farming, he told AFP as he showed off a patch where he grows kratom and cacao.
“Sometimes when we're working, when everyone is gathered to collect kratom leaves, we hear birds calling, so we go over, observe them—if we can take a photo, we take a photo; if not, we just make a sound recording.”
The model is “likely better for both environmental and social impacts than an unincentivized, top-down conservation project design,” said Paul Ferraro, a researcher at US-based Johns Hopkins University. The main challenge, he added, will be maintaining funding.
“People may revert to their prior behavioral patterns because the incentive payments are insufficient when the enthusiasm has waned,” said Ferraro, an expert in human behavior and public policy.
Independence and pride
For now, Borneo Futures has funding secured through 2028, and two more villages will join next month. It pays for observations of 73 species, including birds, monkeys, wild cats and deer.
Antonia Uneng says she never has to venture too far from her home in Sungai Ajung, a village of fewer than 400 people, to make observations. She bought her first fridge with her earnings, as well as a karaoke machine, complete with flashing lights and two microphones, that occupies pride of place in her living room.
The project has given women in the village a sense of independence, said the 36-year-old part-time nursing assistant, whose husband works abroad. “I have my own income... so I am not dependent on my husband.”
Imelda, a farmer in Labian, goes into the forest daily with friends to record bird sounds and, if they are lucky, orangutans. “It makes us healthier, walking in the forest,” said the 72-year-old.
In the past, some in the community considered wild boar and deer pests for damaging their gardens and crops, she said. But now, “we really, really want to protect them.”
