Wildlife photography can be a powerful tool for conservation, and not only when it’s photojournalism. It’s probably the very reason that draw us to wildlife photography, and the way we choose to get our shots, that truly make a difference.
Whenever safari photography comes up, most people instantly think of unique sightings, moments frozen in time that go viral, the spectacular shot that brings fame or some prestigious award. In other words, all things that boost one’s ego. This widespread social media narrative risks to prioritize the photographer persona and lose sight of what really counts.
Being awarded in a photo competition can be wonderful and sometimes life-changing, I won’t deny that. But I strongly believe that a safari, for anyone and especially for a wildlife photographer, should first and foremost be an ethically grounded experience, to be undertaken with integrity rather than hastily consumed in search of a prize-winning picture to produce.
To me, being a wildlife photographer means capturing not only the beauty of nature, but also telling the story of its complexity, its fragility, and the urgency of preserving it. It’s an act of mindful engagement, where every moment, even the apparently quiet ones, has its own value.
A safari demands commitment, patience, and respect. It’s an immersive adventure involving waking up at ungodly hours, heading out when the world is still shrouded in murk and the air is crisp, and spending all your time out in the bush – be it in the scorching midday sun or in thunderstorms, until the sun sets the horizon on fire. Between sightings there’s hours of waiting, of silence, of careful observation. Having the right camera gear is certainly important, but more than the latest or most expensive model what matters most is the mindset: the ability to watch without rushing, to listen to nature, and the intention to respect and protect it. Patience always pays off, I’ve heard it many times, and I can confirm: the shot that changes your life is often not the one you were chasing desperately, but the one that comes to you.
The ethical safari begins in the stage of planning the trip. It is crucial to select tour operators and safari companies that are genuinely eco-friendly and supporting the local economy. As travellers we have the responsibility to make sure our money doesn’t end up in the wrong hands. It is appropriate to inquire about the actual sustainability of your accommodation rather than accepting vague claims and shallow greenwashing; reliable operators will always be ready to provide detailed info. Beyond solar energy and proper water and waste management to minimize the carbon footprint, also constant training and fair working conditions for guides and staff are equally essential to ensure that our enjoyment isn’t built on exploitation or abuse. Safaris are expensive, and it’s perfectly reasonable to keep an eye on the budget. But if a price comes too low, we should always question: at whose expense, and at what cost? Opting for operators with fair standards pushes the others to adopt similar practices, so the general level improves.
The choice of destination ultimately comes down to personal preference, but wherever you go, there’s one fundamental thing to keep in mind: national parks and natural reserves are not zoos, and the often expensive entry fees (that are never enough to cover the enormous management costs anyway) are not to be mistaken for an entry ticket to an amusement park. Animals live and roam freely, and no sighting is ever guaranteed, so be wary of anyone promising a 100% success. An experienced guide can read the signs, but luck always plays a part too. And when the encounter does happen, respect comes first — before anything else, including the shot.
It can sound odd, but it’s necessary to remind that everyone, including photographers, must follow local laws and park rules, and that ignorance is not an excuse. For instance, drone usage is now forbidden in the majority of national parks.
For all that is not explicitly regulated, common sense and consideration should come into play. When in doubt, the best approach is to pause and reflect: How would I feel if I were the subject on the other side of the lens? With this perspective, you would probably agree that it’s unpleasant to have to deal with intruders who step uninvited into your personal space making a commotion, yelling, and using flashes or other artificial lighting in a way that distresses, endangers or blinds you.
Ultimately, Wildlife Photography is more about wildlife than about photography itself. Most of us are essentially animal lovers who taught ourselves how to use a camera to create images as our tribute to the beauty of Nature. The integrity of that tribute rests on respect for the animal’s safety and personal space: Keep Your Distance, and Keep Quiet.
I personally find it vital to research the species I want to photograph, learning all about their features and habits: it allows me to read their body language and anticipate their actions, and be ready for the photo opportunity that might come up next. Their body language is how you know if your presence is appropriate: if an animal changes its behaviour because of you, then you are too close and need to move, even if it means to miss the perfect angle. I will always prefer to give up the shot rather than cause a discomfort to an animal.
Unfortunately, not everyone has the same sensibility, which is why the major wildlife photography competitions have long implemented ethical rules along with the technical criteria: photos that are staged, or achieved with cruelty or baiting the subjects (i.e. luring with food, scent or sound) will always be disqualified. It’s really just that simple: if you have to alter the environment to get the shot, it means the shot was never meant to be taken.
Nevertheless, some still won’t hesitate to push the boundaries. Wisely, the prestigious Wildlife Photographer of the Year organised by the Natural History Museum of London has recently enhanced the ethical rules stating that “You must not do anything to injure or distress an animal or damage its habitat in an attempt to secure a photograph (…) An animal’s welfare must always come first”.
Over more than ten years of safaris, I’ve witnessed many disrespectful behaviours. The most bothersome include vehicles chasing animals, or overcrowding and overstaying on sightings, especially when there’s young animals or a kill. This blocks the view, not only for the animals, who need to be constantly vigilant for potential dangers around them, but for other guests and photographers as well, resulting in a very impolite monopolization of the scene (perhaps in a clumsy attempt to gatekeep photo opportunities to competitors? utter nonsense).
Another particularly despicable practice during game drives involves deliberately trying to force interaction with wildlife. While genuine encounters and interactions do happen, and are a true blessing, they must be spontaneous and not provoked. What I find most heinous is the sight of cheetahs climbing onto vehicles.
Now, before you jump in with “well, but .. cheetahs sometimes just do that!” .. I get it. We all know they look for vantage points on high ground, like termite mounds, and sometimes even vehicles. But that’s not the point.
The core problem is, this behaviour is often presented online as “normal” and “fun”, leading many to go on safari with the open expectation of experiencing firsthand the thrills of a close encounter and of having the chance to snap a “cheetah selfie” to post and brag about on social media. Certain irresponsible safari operators even advertise these “cheetah experiences” and actively encourage cheetahs to jump by approaching very closely and offering the bonnet, in blatant disregard of the safety of the cats. And then, shamefully, in the vilest expression of entitlement, some guests will pressure guides with threats of negative reviews or promises of large tips to ensure they get this experience.
Let me deinfluence you. This behaviour is harmful for the cheetahs and must be absolutely discouraged. Cheetahs have non-retractable claws, designed to grip on terrain while speeding, not for the smooth surface of a vehicle, where they visibly struggle to keep a balance risking a fall and serious injuries. Cheetahs are also the most trafficked of all cats, excessive habituation to vehicles and human beings makes them easier targets for traffickers and poachers. A knowledgeable and trustworthy guide can read the cues when a cheetah seems intending to jump, and will move away immediately, to protect the cat, because no photo ever is worth these dangers.
This leads to my final point regarding ethical wildlife photography: it is imperative to be always aware of what we share on social media, because showcasing questionable experiences can mislead the viewers’ impression and set unrealistic expectations that feed the abusive practices.
The ethics of wildlife photography, in the end, is all about being constantly aware of the consequences of our choices and actions throughout the whole process: before, during, and after taking our pictures.
