WHY MAKE NATURE DOCUMENTARIES?  

Raphaël Coleman

What’s the best way to tell engaging stories that will move hearts and minds, inspiring action to save wild lives and the ecosystems they depend on?

The speed and enormity of the anthropogenic annihilation I’ve witnessed since my childhood has convinced me we need to find new ways of showing people the nature we have left and how to protect it. I believe the wildlife communicator of the future is multi-skilled:  someone who can design a research project, lead a field team, apprehend a poacher, train volunteers, fix a termite-ridden field base, take inspiring photographs, treat a venomous snakebite, write a popular science article, engage schoolchildren, and publish scientific papers. But most importantly, to make films that galvanize people into concrete action. That’s the reason I want to create films that convey solid science accessibly, and in doing so help alter the outcomes of our world’s most pressing ecological challenges.

My first career began in the film industry at the age of eight, as a child actor. Working under high pressure on feature films in the UK and abroad taught me versatility and professionalism early on. I won two awards for my performance aged 14, but although I loved acting, I knew that my vocation lay in science.

After my first volunteer experience monitoring South African wildlife aged 18, I was hooked. Studying Zoology at Manchester University, I became especially fascinated by animal behavior, cognition, ecology, and conservation. Over the four years of the course (which included a year in the field in Costa Rica) I signed up to every field course, volunteer programme and wildlife monitoring project I could, gaining research, husbandry and monitoring experience with African megafauna, spinner dolphins, and Asian mammals. I kept trying to figure out solutions to some of the massive problems I was witnessing in the field. By the time my graduation was announced, with a first class degree and two awards for my academic performance, I was already on expedition in Mexico with Operation Wallacea. I’ve since furthered my experience in wildlife rehabilitation and veterinary nursing, working with big cats, bears, monkeys, wolves and wolfdogs in animal sanctuaries in Thailand, Colorado and Bolivia. All in all, over the last seven years, I’ve been lucky enough to work with and study wildlife in a dozen countries.

While my understanding of the challenges ahead has deepened, my training is far from complete. The realization began during my placement year on a biological research station in Tortuguero National Park in Costa Rica, where I trained volunteers and interns to carry out turtle conservation monitoring – but could see that our efforts weren’t enough. While each of us might have protected a couple of thousand turtle hatchlings from the vultures, countless more were lost to the plastic debris that washed up endlessly on the coast, to nest-poachers, and to the coastal erosion caused by climate change strengthening the El Nino.  

When we search for the root causes of conservation issues, the vast majority lead back to human activity – and the same applies to their solutions. To save wildlife, we must first communicate effectively to people, be it in raising awareness, providing alternative livelihoods, education, inspiration, or galvanising mass action. Media-for-conservation efforts, such as Blue Planet II’s coverage of plastic pollution and marine scientists’ work, have been instrumental in inciting mass behavioural change for conservation.

I began honing my communication skills in Costa Rica, designing and carrying out a photographic study of colour polymorphism in vipers, now under review for publication in the journal Zoology. Soon I was working more on science communication than I did on research, presenting to and training for volunteers, editing and curating a portfolio of wildlife and landscape images. It led to my first photojournalistic publication: a front-page and centrefold colour feature on turtle and jaguar conservation in Biological Sciences Review. This was followed by another publication in the same magazine this year, this time on the impacts of climate change on wildlife in Mexico.

With this in mind, in June 2017 I founded the Wildlife and Wilderness Workers’ Network. Starting as a small Facebook group of colleagues, the organization now known as the Wildwork links together wildlife professionals from more than 100 countries. Over 5,700 members form a hive-mind of information, providing mutual assistance and connecting dozens of environmental projects around the globe. Using engaging outreach tools such as social media, photography, blogging, and videos, it aims to tell the stories of both professional and non-professional wildlife protectors.

As part of this initiative, I began exploring portraiture  – first of animals, and then of the Wildworkers who strove to protect them. My shot of a Royal Flycatcher caught in OpWall mist nets in Mexico won a photography competition held by OneSpecies, the conservation clothing brand behind the Coextinction documentary. Of my images of monkeys rescued from the illegal wildlife trade in Bolivia, one was shortlisted for an animal portraiture award, and another was featured in the rescue center’s official calendar. In Thailand, I ended up re-investigating the case of the notorious Tiger Temple and filming interviews for an independent documentary series (still in progress) on Southeast Asian animal sanctuaries and their link to the illegal wildlife trade.

Realising the need to expand my communications portfolio, I next undertook a digital marketing course, which led to five months managing digital channels for a dive center in Indonesia. During this time, I completed my Rescue, Nitrox and Divemaster certifications, and to date have logged over 100 dives in five countries, as well as progressing considerably in freediving. Not least, I gained wildlife guiding experience in the notoriously challenging currents of Komodo National Park, educating my guests on the biology of sea turtles and manta rays. Fascinated by the complexities and technicalities of underwater imaging, I hope one day to achieve the skills to visually capture the complex cognition of underwater minds, such as those of cephalopods and cetaceans.

I had no idea how useful my new skills in social media management would become until I returned home and became involved in campaigning work for the environmental activist group Rising Up, which was in urgent need of a social media co-ordinator. Two hectic weeks later, Extinction Rebellion’s social media following had quadrupled, and I was at the heart of what had quickly become a mass movement spreading around the globe.  I coordinated and trained a growing team of content creators and social media managers, helping communicate the scientific and social rationale behind the Rebellion, as well as telling the stories of those involved in it. And throughout, I am learning how to inspire and motivate radical collective action to protect the natural world and change human society. It’s what the Rebellion’s strategy teams and tacticians call “the codes for social change” – and regardless of XR’s success or failure, I’ll be sure to remember them for the Wildwork.

In my career as a biologist and amateur science communicator, I have gained a broad range of skills that have made me adaptable to many environments. I’ve become confident, versatile and useful as a researcher, field guide, leader, and storyteller. But so far, I have only filmed videos independently with second-hand gear and no budget, often working alone and building my own camera rigs. I am still missing the flair and professional ability I need to be a confident creator of the king of content: film. The threats to the natural world are increasing, but the solutions are just within reach. I want to use my skills to create something different, moving, and powerful: a Wildwork documentary series that explores the relationships between our species and the rest of nature, setting out a bold plan to highlight what’s going right – and fix what’s going wrong.