Collecting programmes raise issues of two kinds. First, there are ethical and legal issues relating to intellectual property rights and the use of indigenous knowledge. Second, there are conservation issues, such as avoiding overexploitation and assisting the justification of conservation as a form of land use through channeling the value-added benefits arising from natural product development into appropriate areas. Encouragingly, a number of professional societies, national research organizations, and international agencies have taken resolutions, or drafted codes of ethics, to deal with one or both of these kinds of issue.

4.1 Ethical and Legal Approaches

Neither ethnobotany nor anthropology are purely academic pursuits. Researchers working with traditional specialists such as herbalists are not only in a position of trust at the interface between cultures, they are at the «sharp end» of industrial society, gathering and publishing data on useful wild plants. Ethnobotanists in particular are in a pivotal position, and raise many ethical questions, e.g. should the private knowledge of community specialists be made public free of charge or at a price? In many cases, such knowledge is only obtained from traditional specialists within a community after the ethnobotanist has established credibility within that society and with the specialists concerned. Detailed information can often only be obtained after an extended period. Researchers often have to earn a position of trust in order to record information that may be shielded from other members of the community by initiation rites and taboos. How far does that position of trust extend? Purchase of information is often not practical for it can tempt respondents into giving nonsense answers for material gain. Alternative means of compensation must be considered.

4.1.1 Views of indigenous peoples

Indigenous peoples striving to maintain the integrity of their cultures are very aware of the changes being brought about by outside technologies. Also recognized are the potential material and social benefits that some developments can bring, but, rather than be passive victims of change, there is preference for partnerships in this process. Recognition of intellectual property is one form of recognition in such a partnership.

At a meeting in Penang, Malaysia, in 1992, representatives of indigenous peoples drafted a «Charter of the Indigenous Tribal Peoples of the Tropical Forests». This was in response to the threats of encroachment and forest destruction they faced. The Charter stressed the social, spiritual, and cultural values of forests in addition to their economic value, and called for the several actions that particularly relate to ethics, biodiversity, and the development of new natural products. The Charter includes the following requests:

...all policies towards the forests must be based on respect for cultural diversity, for promotion of indigenous models of living, and an understanding that our peoples have developed ways of life closely attuned to their environment (Article 5)

...the right to be informed, consulted and, above all, to participate in decision-making on legislation and policies, and in the formulation, implementation or evaluation of any development project, whether local, national or international, private or of the state, that may affect our futures directly or indirectly (Article 23)

…promotion of the health systems of the indigenous peoples, including the revalidation of traditional medicine, and the promotion of programmes of modern medicine and primary healthcare. Such programmes should allow us to have control over them, providing suitable training to allow us to manage them ourselves (Article 31)

...promotion of alternative fiscal policies that permit us to develop our community economies and develop mechanisms to establish fair prices for the products of our forests (Article 33)

...programmes related to biodiversity must respect the collective right of our peoples to cultural and intellectual property, genetic resources, gene banks, biotechnology, and knowledge of biodiversity; this should include our participation in the management of any such project on our territories, as well as control of benefits that derive from them (Article 40)

...since we highly value our traditional technologies and believe that our biotechnologies can make important contributions to humanity, including "developed" countries, we demand guaranteed rights to our intellectual property, and control over the development and manipulation of this knowledge (Article 44)

...all investigations in our territories should be carried out with our consent and under joint control and guidance according to mutual agreement, including provision for training, publication and support for indigenous institutions necessary to achieve such control (Article 45).

4.1.2 Customary law, traditional medicine, and intellectual property

Rights of passage and various taboos are a feature of most societies, providing a means of upholding cultural systems through particular values and codes of behaviour. This applies particularly strongly amongst traditional healers due to their important social, religious and healing roles. Consequently, these taboos often also apply to the plants, animals, or ritual objects that provide potent medicines or religious symbols within societies. Taboos on the use or misuse of these items are recognized in customary law. In southern Africa, for example, control over access to powerful medicines is widespread. Taboos placed on powerful medicines are a means of maintaining survival of traditional leadership through control of religious/supernatural power in conjunction with traditional healers.

In a similar sense, the secular authority of the chief is maintained through his position in the designation of land for settlement and food production. It is therefore not surprising to find that customary restrictions on killing strongly symbolic animals such as crocodiles and ground hornbills are widespread in southern Africa, and are recognized as a basis for restricted use today (Cunningham and Zondi, 1992).²¹ Accidental killing of a ground hornbill necessitates the sacrifice of a beast in traditional Xhosa society (Vernon, 1986),⁶⁸ or ritual purification after a period of eating and sleeping alone in traditional KwaNyama-Owambo society in Namibia (Rodin, 1985).⁶¹

Many traditional healers in southern Africa take the view that some traditional knowledge should not be made freely available. Even within their own societies, much of this specialist knowledge is kept private, rather than public, through ritual and taboo (M.P. Cele, pers comm.). On the other hand, other traditional healers recognize that their knowledge has a wider value and want part of the benefits arising from its use. Why shouldn't they?

Fiona Walsh, an ethnobotanist at the University of Western Australia, has encountered cases in her work with Martu aboriginals where people specifically chose to censor the research information after it had been recorded (F. Walsh, pers comm., 1992). No restrictions were placed on information on widespread useful species, but in some cases she was asked not to tell anyone else about a medicinal plant species or find out its «whitefella» name as the Martu did not want outsiders using the plant or making money from the medicine. There was also concern that inexperienced people should not be exposed to powerful medicines for their own safety. In other cases Martu people requested that vernacular names of localized plants they used were not published. If «whitefellas» wanted to find these plants in Martu country, they would have to work through the Martu people. Similar views have been are expressed by indigenous peoples in other parts of the world.

4.1.3 Fair deals or no deals

Even in remote areas, there is widespread awareness amongst indigenous peoples of the link between traditional and pharmaceutical medicines. There is also awareness of the interest of industrial companies in developing new drugs from plants, and of the commercial values attached to crop genetic resources. There are two good examples of this in Africa: medicinal plants and coffee varieties.

Figure 4. The sales of anti-leukaemia drugs derived from the Madagascar rosy periwinkle (Catharanthus roseus) have generated large profits for the pharmaceutical company Eli-Lilly. Although native to Madagascar, it is now a widespread weed in the tropics and sub-tropics. The sample material for original screening came from the Philippines and Jamaica. A relatively long-lived patent on the active ingredients was taken out for the pure compounds from the plant, which differs from low-cost imitations. Photo: A.B. Cunningham

Over a decade ago, the Organization of African Unity (OAU) went so far as to urge secrecy in research in herbal medicine in order to prevent multinational companies developing new drugs and selling them back to developing countries at high prices (Hanlon, 1979).34 In Ethiopia, which is a centre of coffee diversity, there are severe restrictions on the collection of plant genetic material. The rationale is understandable, as the genetic resources of Ethiopia should be recognized as a resource of great value to world agriculture. What also needs to be recognized, however, is that prolonged war and economic decline mean that neither habitats nor species can effectively be conserved. Cultural change and the effects of political turmoil speed up the loss of indigenous knowledge. If neither indigenous knowledge nor biodiversity can be conserved, the result is a double tragedy in which everybody loses. This can be prevented through consultation and development of accepted guidelines for researchers. In Panama, for example, Kuna people working together with researchers have established guidelines for cooperative work (Box 1).

A further example is the healthcare and forest conservation initiative which has been developed with local communities, university scientists and doctors through a WWF conservation programme for Manongarivo Special Reserve, Madagascar (Box 2), which includes the development of a role for an ethical pharmaceutical company. Where industrial products are involved, the responsibility for resolving these problems rests not only on the professional ethics of researchers, but also on the policies of governments and organizations sponsoring the collection of biological material. The participation of indigenous peoples in making decisions that relate to their intellectual property or natural resources can be seen as a basic human right. This has already been recognized in the Human Rights section of the US Government Foreign Operations bill (US Government, 1993).⁶⁷

4.1.4 Patent rights, biotechnology, and biological material

In an industrial society, if a private company accumulates unique, useful knowledge through trial and error, that knowledge is likely to be patented so that the company obtains a percentage of profits arising from its use. For over a century, ethnobotanists have recorded traditional knowledge, much of which relates to medicinal plants. Such knowledge has also been accumulated in traditional societies by trial and error, but has been made public with no patent rights attached.

Active ingredients of traditional medicines, dyes, fish toxins, fungicides, and insecticides represent novel biological compounds that can be characterized and usually replicated. The discovery of plant species with active ingredients that serve a particular purpose is certainly an inventive, intellectual process. A good example of this is the selection by trial and error of a number of plant species to be combined in a medicinal recipe for their synergistic effect. The selection process can take place in vegetation which may contain hundreds of plant species. Sampling based on traditional knowledge cuts time and costs through providing a short-cut for therapeutic compounds (Box 3). Pure natural compounds, such as vincristine from the rosy periwinkle (Catharanthus roseus) can be patented (Figure 4). In most cases, however, biological material provides the template for development and subsequent synthesis of active compounds. In this case, process patents are granted for new uses of altered compounds derived from the precursor rather than for the naturally occurring compounds themselves.

In an excellent and detailed review of equitable patent protection and developing countries (1991),⁴⁴ Lesser doubts the appropriateness of applying uniform patent standards to very different circumstances in various developing countries. While it is important to recognize the intellectual contribution made by indigenous peoples to new natural products development, it is also important that countries are free to decide whether to adopt intellectual property protection for biological products like genes and chemical compounds, and how strong that protection should be (WRI, 1992).⁷⁰ The strength of intellectual property rights (IPR) will depend on the level of technological and industrial development in different developing countries. This has been a crucial issue in the Uruguay round of GATT negotiations, with industrialized countries pushing for uniform patent standards in all countries (Lesser, 1991; WRI, 1992).^44,70

Developing countries with a high level of expertise in natural products chemistry, such as Brazil, Mexico, India, Taiwan, and Korea, have the capability of preparing extracts and investigating the structures of novel compounds. This enables them to add maximum value to their natural products within their own country. The few developing countries which have reached this stage did so not with patent protection, but by locally produced technology and adaptive innovation (WRI, 1992).⁷⁰ Many industrialized countries have followed the same path, avoiding the strict patent protection that can stop low-cost imitations. France, for example, only began to grant patents for pharmaceuticals in 1958, Japan in 1976, and Switzerland in 1977 (Lesser, 1991).⁴⁴ In developing countries or regions where sufficient expertise has been developed, researchers can prepare extracts and take the search for new industrial products as far as possible before settling on an international partnership agreement when additional technology is required. For countries not yet at this stage, or where screening and development of new drugs is too costly, royalties need to be negotiated with large companies, respecting minimum standards (Box 4).

4.1.5 Policy and professional approaches

In contrast to the disputes that occurred over recognition of farmers' rights, many professional organizations have expressed their support for equitable partnerships and sustainable use of resources in the development of new natural products (Table 5). Most of these have been broad policy statements. In 1987, the IUCN Working Group on Traditional Ecological Knowledge drew attention to the value of indigenous knowledge, and stressed the need for equitable partnerships involving anthropologists, ecologists, and indigenous peoples. The following year, the International Society of Ethnobiology (ISE) (Box 5) called for mechanisms to be established which recognized and compensated indigenous peoples for the use of specialist knowledge (Posey, 1990; Boom, 1990).^56,11 Other examples are the Chiang Mai Declaration for Conservation of Medicinal Plants (WWF/IUCN/WHO) and the 1989 Goteburg Resolution of the International Society of Chemical Ecology, which urged the development of partnerships between developed and developing nations and a great increase in screening for new compounds (Eisner and Meinwald, 1990).²⁵

In 1990, the Botanical Society of America (BSA) and the Society for Economic Botany (SEB) established ethics committees which aimed to develop professional codes for these organizations (Boom, 1990; D. Harder, pers comm., 1991).¹¹ Very useful guidelines were also produced at a workshop held by the NCI at Bethesda (Schweitzer et al., 1991)⁶³ (Box 6). Two significant events in 1992 were the Williamsburg Declaration by the American Society of Pharmacognosy, and the Bukittinggi Declaration at the UNESCO seminar on the Chemistry of Rainforest Plants, held in West Sumatra, Indonesia. Also in 1992, the Global Biodiversity Strategy (WRI, 1992)⁷⁰ called for coordinated action to:

• assert national sovereignty over genetic resources and regulate their collection
• recognize and quantify the local economic value of wild plant products harvested sustainably
• encourage local communities to obtain a larger market share for wild products harvested sustainably
• develop the role of traditional medicines in local healthcare programmes, and ensure their appropriate and sustainable use
• promote recognition of the value of local knowledge and genetic resources, and affirm the rights of local peoples
• base the collection of genetic resources on contractual or other agreements that ensure
• equitable returns.

Table 5. Summary of issues relating to new natural products development covered in resolutions or statements of various organizations.

From Posey, 1991; ⁵⁸Einser, and Meinwald, 1990;²⁵ Schweitzer et al.,1991;⁶³ Padoch and Boom,1991;⁵³ WKI,1992;⁷⁰ Cruz et al., 1992.¹⁷

Some pharmaceutical companies have also set out their policies for acquisition of plant materials in the search for active ingredients. Glaxo Group Research Ltd, for example, will only conclude agreements with bona fide organizations rather than with individuals. They also specify that they will cover costs of supply and recognize the negative effects that unauthorized removal of material can have on the environment and economies of the countries concerned, particularly in the developing world (Glaxo, 1992).³⁰

The 1992 Manila Declaration, concerning the ethical utilization of Asian biological resources, is a notable exception to most policy statements. In addition to setting out policy guidelines, the Manila Declaration gives a clear and concise code of ethics for foreign-collectors of biological samples and a set of minimum contract guidelines (Cruz et al., 1992).¹⁷ The Declaration has recently been published as a booklet by the Regional Network for the Chemistry of Natural Products of Southeast Asia (1993).

Some contracts already exist, such as that of the American National Cancer Institute «Letter of Intent» (NCI, 1992),⁵¹ the more specific University of Strathclyde agreement for supply of plant material (P. Waterman, pers comm., 1992) and a draft agreement developed by the Rainforest Alliance (Carney et al., 1992).¹³ The philosophy and guidelines contained in the Manila Declaration are significant because they demonstrate a high degree of consensus among natural products chemists from a range of developing countries (Boxes 7, 4).

4.1.6 Dealing with unrecorded knowledge

It is important that a distinction be made between the ethics associated with indigenous knowledge that is already published and in the public domain, and the ethics involved in soliciting and recording previously unrecorded knowledge (T. Johns, pers comm., 1993). In the former case, guidelines regarding this information would best apply at a national level governing the collection and utilization of biological samples concerned.

By contrast, the solicitation of previously unrecorded knowledge is best approached through participatory research at a local community level, from the bottom up. This approach is more likely to provide a means for the people whose knowledge is sought: (i) to come to agreement with the researcher on research goals and feedback of information to the community; (ii) to set any limitations on the type of information to be disseminated; (iii) to come to agreement on reasonable compensation; and/or (iv) to refuse to participate.

The ethics of interaction between researchers and the people who are the source of traditional knowledge is not only a responsibility of the individual researcher and the organization and/or professional society to which the researcher belongs, but also of national governments. Although the definition of local communities and indigenous peoples can vary widely, the ethics and rules for people undertaking ethnobiological surveys or collecting samples for new natural products development should be the same for foreigners as for nationals from outside those communities.

4.2. Conservation and Biodiversity

Despite concerns about the emphasis on economic and utilitarian values, economic reasons remain powerful arguments for conservation (McNeely, 1988).⁴⁹ Under the «common property system» that considers genes or chemical structures from biological material as the common heritage of mankind, there is little incentive to conserve either species or habitats. «Chemical prospecting», as Eisner calls it, can be a powerful ally that is compatible with biological conservation. This will only occur, however, if a fair share of benefits reverts to the region of origin. National sovereignty over renewable resources such as timber, rattan, or latex has long been recognized. The same applies to non-renewable resources such as oil, gold, or other minerals. Why shouldn't national sovereignty also apply to chemical structures from plants, or to plants with horticultural value? Sales of the African violet (Saintpaulia), for example, are worth $30 million a year (Lovett, 1988),⁴⁵ but none of this money is used to conserve the Tanzanian habitat they originally came from.

The same applies to the monetary and non-monetary benefits from industrial products developed from biological material, such as drugs, resins, waxes, oils, and perfumes. The question might be asked, «What if the source material came from Switzerland, rather than Tanzania or another developing country?» Would the same situation be tolerated? The issue does not arise because, while Switzerland, France, Germany, and the UK all have companies involved in drug development, they are a poor source of biological material. Compare, for instance, the number of endemic plant species in Switzerland (1), Germany (73), or the United Kingdom (16 ) with countries or regions where chemical prospecting is taking place, such as Mexico (3376) or the Amazon region (25,000-30,000).

Unfortunately, the products of biological and cultural diversity are undervalued. There are two main reasons for forest overexploitation and destruction under these circumstances (Repetto, 1989).⁶⁰ First, forests have been undervalued and thus misused. A few products such as hardwoods and rattans, have been exploited but other resources, such as nuts, oils, and fibres, have been overlooked. At the same time, important features like watersheds have been ignored. Second, the net benefits from forest exploitation and conversion have been overestimated. For example, Repetto states that plans to harvest tropical timber every 35 years in clear-cut stands are «grossly unfulfilled» in Indonesia, the Philippines, and elsewhere. To offset this, the benefits derived from chemical and genetic material can enhance values from more tangible «minor forest products».

These forests have a high level of endemism, and contain many medicinal plants with potential value in new natural products development, e.g. members of the Ancistrocladaceae, Oknemataceae and Clusiaceae. If governments fail to appreciate the value of biodiversity, development that destroys this resource continues unhindered.

4.2.1 Different forests, different values

Recent studies have suggested that rainforest preservation in the Peruvian Amazon (Peters et al., 1989),⁵⁵ and Southeast Asia (de Beer and McDermott, 1989),²³ can sometimes be justified through direct contribution of forest products to the local economy. For example, an estimate was made of the production and market value of all commercial tree species (whether fruits, latex, or timber) in a 1ha Amazonian rainforest in Peru (50 families, 275 species 10 cm diameter). Of the total number of trees on the site, only 72 species (26.2 per cent) yielded products with an actual market value. The financial appraisal concluded that total net revenues of «minor» forest products, collected sustainably and sold in the Iquitos market, were two to three times higher than those arising from forest conversion. Based on the assumption of sustainable collecting, the study estimated that harvests of fruit and latex alone were worth about $6,330/ha/yr, provided that 25 per cent of the fruit crop was left in the forest for regeneration. This can be compared with $3,184/ ha/yr for Gmelina arborea pulpwood plantations, $490 for timber from the forest, and $148/ha/yr from cattle pastures in Brazil.

The value of non-timber forest products may not always be so high. The economic value of a forest obviously depends on the availability of markets and the diversity and yield of economically important products. Studies made in primary lowland rainforest in peninsular Malaysia (Saw et al., 1991),⁶² for example, reached a very different conclusion to those in the Peruvian Amazon. Despite its diversity (820 species in a 50ha plot), only one species, Parkia speciosa, was regularly gathered for sale, with the total contribution to the local economy estimated at $20/ha/yr, compared to the $6,330/ha/yr recorded in Peru. This study suggests that de Beer and McDermott's proposal be viewed with caution. The same could apply to the broader application of the work by Peters et al. Both cases emphasize the importance of future «option values» as potential new industrial products are discovered or genetic material for plant breeding is removed.

Figure 5. The beginning of the end: from diversity to monoculture of oil palm or rubber as a new road is pushed through lowland rainforest in Côte d'Ivoire, West Africa. Photo: A B Cunningham

The Malaysian lowland forest which was studied proved to be exceptionally rich as a genetic reservoir for fruit trees, particularly Garcinia (Clusiaceae, mangosteens), Artocarpus (Moraceae,breadfruit) and Nephelium (Sapindaceae, rambutan, or litchi). Twenty-four species in the forest were cultivated elsewhere, 38 species were congeneric with cultivated crops, and at least 10 species were closely related to edible fruit-bearing crops. Many more may have potential value as new drugs. Constructive partnerships between local people, national researchers, and internationally-based chemists and drug companies can stimulate the discovery of new natural products. This could have a tremendous «value added» effect.

The development of pharmaceutical industries in India and Brazil, and the well-publicized contract between Merck, Sharpe, and Dohme and Costa Rica's National Institute for Biodiversity (INBio) (Joyce, 1991),³⁹ are examples of partnerships are not developed, then this approach (Box 8). If effective partnerships are not developed, then tropical forest conservation will have to rely on other funding mechanisms, such as «debt-for-nature» swaps, and on international support.

5. Wild Harvesting, Herbal Preparations, and Extracts

In the large majority of cases, companies investigating natural products work with small quantities of plant material. They are looking for specific active compounds that may lead to new drugs which are likely to be synthesized chemically. Sometimes, however, large quantities are required from wild collections or from cultivation. This is the case when synthesis poses a problem, as with the anti-cancer agent taxol, derived from the bark of the Pacific yew, Taxus brevifolia (Hamburger et al., 1991).³³ It is also the case when treatments use herbal extracts, as in herbal and traditional medicines, or where whole extracts are required. Finally, it is the case when, although synthesis or cultivation is possible, harvesting material from the wild is cheaper.

The international trade in leaf extract of Ginkgo biloba was valued at $500 million a year (Corey et al., 1988),¹⁶ requiring about 100 tonnes of dried leaves per month for extraction (Balz, 1988).⁹ These leaves are primarily from cultivated plantations in France and the USA, rather than from destructive harvesting. This is not the case however, with trade from or within many developing countries. According to the UNCTAD/GATT International Trade Centre, the total value of imports of medicinal plants to OECD countries, Japan, and the USA increased from $335 million in 1976 to $551 million in 1980 (Husain, 1991).³⁷ Unfortunately, the low prices paid for the plants do not cover replacement or resource management costs. This means that major importers who demand high volumes of plant material are effectively contributing to the decline of medicinal plant species.

Even when the technology for chemical synthesis is available, it can be cheaper for pharmaceutical companies to continue to extract the active ingredients from the plants. In the mid-1970s, for example, synthesis of reserpine cost $1.25/g, compared to $0.75/g for commercial extraction from the roots of Rauwolfia vomitoria (Oldfield, 1984).⁵²

Other examples include the processing of 75-80 tonnes of Griffonia simplicifolia seed exported every year to Germany from Ghana (Abbiw, 1990),¹ and the medicinal plant material exported from Cameroon to France (Cunningham and Mbenkum, 1993).²⁰ In 1985-1991, this amounted to 900 tonnes of Voacanga africana seed, 11,537 tonnes of Prunus africana bark for an extract used to treat prostatitis in Europe, and 286 tonnes of Pausinystalia johimbe bark to be sold as an aphrodisiac in sex shops.

With few exceptions, prices paid to gatherers are very low, and bear no relation to annual sustainable off-take. In many cases, the wild plants are also treated as resources available to anybody without controls. To make a living, commercial medicinal plant gatherers are forced to «mine» rather than manage these resources.

Figure 6. Traditional Chinese medicines on sale in Yunnan province, China. Photo: A B Cunningham

If the international companies involved in this trade are to operate in a responsible marnner, this situation needs to change to one of two alternatives: commercial cultivation or sustainable gathering from the wild. If Beafour Laboratories (France) are prepared to establish their own plantations of some 15 million Ginkgo biloba (Gingoaceae) trees in France and the USA (Balz, 1988),9 why shouldn't Laboratoires Debat cultivate Prunus africana in Cameroon, instead of buying and processing bark that is destructively harvested from declining areas of the Afro-montane forest?

6. Expectations and Economic Benefits

It is important that participants in source countries do not develop unrealistic expectations about the benefits that may arise from the development of valuable new products. These benefits include both short-term payments for samples and the kind of non-monetary benefits outlined above. Only a small percentage of active ingredients lead to new pharmaceuticals: «hit» rates are between 1:6,000 and 1:10,000. Over a 25-year period, for example, Merck, Sharp, and Dohme found only five compounds that, either directly or with some chemical modification, have become marketable drugs (Schweitzer et al., 1991).⁶³ Development costs are high and, although patent rights generally last up to 20 years, 10-15 years of this may be taken up in drug development before marketing can take place.

The cost of new drug development in 1986 was estimated as $50-100 million per product (Tyler, 1986).⁶⁵ Today, a realistic estimate would be closer to $200 million per product, if the cost of failures is taken into account. For this reason, it is important that collectors, researchers, or sponsoring organizations do not give misleading information regarding the possible commercial benefits of the research.

However, it is true that when a «hit» is made, the profits can be very large. One well-publicized example is the anti-leukaemia drugs developed from Catharanthus roseus, which were patented and marketed in 1963, with sales of approximately $100 million by 1985, 88 per cent of which was profit (Farnsworth, 1988).²⁸