India is turning a blind eye towards its amphibians, despite them being the ‘check-engine light’ of the Earth and ultimate indicators of our soil, water, and ecosystem
To be an amphibian is to exist in a state of biological “betweenness.” From the Greek amphibios, meaning “double life,” these creatures are the ultimate bridge between our terrestrial forests and our freshwater arteries. They breathe through their skin, making them porous to the world around them, and thus, the ultimate indicators of planetary health. “If there are contaminants in the water, amphibians will be the first group to get affected,” says Harikrishnan Surendran, manager of the Amphibian Recovery Project at the Wildlife Trust of India (WTI). They are the “check-engine light” of the Earth.
Yet, despite their role as ecological sentinels, they are vanishing. In a world obsessed with the giants of the land — the tigers and elephants that dominate India’s conservation budgets, we are failing to protect the very creatures that signal whether our water is clean, our soil is healthy, and our ecosystems are intact.
The Charisma Gap
Globally, amphibians represent 25% of threatened vertebrates, yet they receive less than 3.5% of conservation funding. In India, this “charisma gap” has created a landscape where the smallest lives are often the most ignored. “Mostly, ever since wildlife conservation became a thing in India, it’s mostly been based on large animals,” Surendran explains. “Whether it’s the Tiger Project or elephant conservation, things have changed quite a bit now, but it’s still not to the same level.” This isn’t just a matter of popularity; it’s a matter of science. We are currently in a race against time. “Most of these amphibians were not even known to exist 15 years ago,” Surendran reveals. “We are still in that species discovery phase.”
Dr. Karthikeyan Vasudevan, Chief Scientist at CSIR-CCMB, notes that this lack of “biographical data” is a crisis in itself. “For a majority of the species, there is a lack of basic information on distribution, population size, diet, threats, and life cycle,” he says. At LACONES, Hyderabad, Vasudevan sees the funding gap firsthand. “Lack of funding to do basic ecological studies overshadows the funding gap created by attention to charismatic species.
I am not inclined to pitch one deserving species of conservation attention against another.”
The Plantation Dilemma
In the Western Ghats, the frontier of conservation is a commercial landscape of tea and cardamom. Endangered species like the Galaxy Frog find themselves living in high-value real estate. “That is the million-dollar question for us,” Surendran says. “How can we convince plantations to manage land in a way that is sustainable economically, but also protects biodiversity?”
The answer may lie in the ecological services these animals provide. While global studies suggest amphibian-led pest control is worth billions, Surendran notes that “frogs have traditionally been known as ‘farmers’ friends,’ especially in rice fields.” Yet, for a small-scale farmer, the stakes are personal. “A small-scale farmer’s livelihood is dependent on what he’s doing. It’s really difficult for them to take a risk to change their practices to organic... if the crop fails, what do we do? That is a failure of the funding situation — that we cannot provide any guarantees or compensation.”
The Climate Pulse
While habitat loss is the primary driver of extinction, a “silent pandemic” is moving through India’s water bodies: the Chytrid fungus. This pathogen has devastated populations globally, and Dr. Vasudevan’s research at CCMB has confirmed its presence across India. “Indian frogs until recently were not in the radar for the pathogen,” Vasudevan warns. “Through our work it is clear that the pathogen exists in India. There are no clinical signs on frogs as observed in other parts of the world, but it persists. Having the disease and not dying probably comes with some cost to the frog — we don’t know that yet.” Parallel to disease is the erratic “pulse” of the climate.
In the northern Western Ghats, the monsoon is a pulse event that triggers breeding. “The impacts on the rainfall, stream flows, relative humidity and temperature are expected to have an influence,” says Dr Vasudevan. For species restricted to high elevations, even a slight shift in temperature can trigger impacts.
A Roadmap for Recovery
How do we rescue a group that is essentially invisible to the public? The experts suggest three critical interventions. First is site-specific recovery: Surendran’s team in Munnar is installing artificial breeding ponds within tea estates. “Ponds is just one aspect,” he cautions. “In different places, you have to think of different interventions. Some species breed in streams or large wetlands; in those cases, making a pond will not help.”
Second is ex-situ conservation: Dr Vasudevan argues that Indian zoos must step up. “Only two zoos in the country have amphibian exhibits,” he says. Captive populations at places like Padmaja Naidu Zoological Park in Darjeeling are already successfully breeding the Himalayan Salamander, proving that “captive-assurance” colonies are possible. Third is a national vision: If Surendran were to draft a National Action Plan, his focus would be simple: Forest + Water. “The usual habitat protection in terms of just forest protection is not enough. You also have to look at the associated freshwater habitats. Water security is amphibian security.”
The Hidden Residents
The diversity of India’s amphibians includes remarkable species like the Purple Frog, a “living fossil” that surfaces each year briefly. “The work done by Dr Sandeep Das... has revealed interesting aspects of breeding and habitat use,” says Vasudevan. There are also Caecilians, which are legless, subterranean predators. “Dr G. Venu’s work has revealed many new species and others that are yet to be described,” Vasudevan notes. Finally, the Dancing Frogs of the central Western Ghats use “foot-flagging” to communicate over noisy waterfalls.
“The most significant gain has been the number of young people who have been looking for amphibians, recording their presence, behaviour and reporting about them,” Dr. Vasudevan reflects. As the sun sets over the Shola forests, the first croaks begin, a rhythmic reminder that our world is still breathing. It is time we recognise that the health of the frog in the stream is intertwined with our own.
