Ten years ago, a lion named Cecil was killed by an American trophy hunter just outside Zimbabwe’s Hwange National Park. Images of the hunter and the hunted captured international headlines and ignited public uproar.

The story that followed—that trophy hunting should be banned to save African wildlife—did not reflect the complex realities of conservation on the ground. A decade later, simplistic narratives about conservation persist, but there are hopeful signs in the ways policy and practice are evolving.

Global outrage, local reality

In the wake of Cecil’s death, the dominant reaction in the media was one of moral outrage. Trophy hunting was cast as fundamentally unethical and a major threat to African wildlife and wilderness. What was largely overlooked, however, was the context. Across Africa, conservation does not only happen in protected areas, which cover just 15% of the land area. Wildlife moves across mosaics of state, private and community land where people live, farm and herd livestock. In these vast landscapes, conservation success depends not just on protecting wildlife, but on creating systems where local people can benefit from that wildlife.

Several southern African countries—including Botswana, Namibia, South Africa and Zimbabwe—have adopted a sustainable use approach to conservation. Local people have been given legal rights to wildlife on their land, allowing them to benefit from it through ecotourism, meat harvesting, and regulated trophy hunting.

While it may seem paradoxical to conserve wildlife by sustainably using it, evidence suggests it works. The region’s wildlife populations have actually increased since the 1960s—fivefold in some countries—in stark contrast to shrinking wildlife populations across much of the continent and the world.

This sustainable use model of conservation stands in contrast to the protectionist approaches favoured by many in the Global North, which often exclude local people and rely heavily on external funding. Meanwhile, African governments face an estimated $1–2 billion annual shortfall to effectively manage their protected areas for lions and elephants.

The global response to Cecil focused on the act of wildlife hunting, rather than the broader systems that enable or undermine sustainable and just wildlife conservation.

Blanket bans or better governance?

In response to the public uproar over Cecil, several countries in the Global North imposed or tightened bans on importing hunting trophies, particularly from African lions. Airlines followed suit, refusing to transport trophies from certain species.

But have these bans helped lions? Not necessarily. Lions remain vulnerable to extinction across their continental range. But the main threats are (and always have been) habitat loss, followed by retaliatory illegal killing to protect human life and

livestock. Ironically, if more countries—especially major markets like the United States—enact bans on legal lion hunting, the primary threats to lions are likely to intensify. It is estimated that conservation would no longer be financially viable in the absence of lion trophy hunting across 60,000 km² of habitat, resulting in losses in the transition to other more viable land uses.

This is not to say that hunting always has good outcomes for conservation and local people. Poorly managed hunting programs—such as those around Zambia’s South Luangwa National Park in 2000s—have caused local lion population declines. Additionally, communities do not always receive a fair share of the benefits. Good governance is essential for good outcomes. Rather than the blunt tool of a blanket ban, conservationists propose a standards-based approach to trophy import and hunting policy. Countries could require proof that the hunting activity contributes to conservation of the species and its habitat, local people receive a fair and transparent share of revenues, the hunting operation follows adaptive management and science-based quotas, and good governance and accountability structures are in place.

From lions to living landscapes

Cecil’s story should have prompted deeper questions. Who should decide how Africa’s megafauna is managed? Who benefits? Who bears the costs? And can rights, responsibilities, and rewards be aligned to support conservation that is equitable, effective, and resilient?

The strong public perception of trophy hunting as immoral remains a significant—and perhaps insurmountable—obstacle to more nuanced public discussion. Nonetheless, there are encouraging signs of change in the broader conservation narrative.

The Global Biodiversity Framework—the roadmap for safeguarding nature—has targets not only for conserving biodiversity, but sustainably using it as well. The framework legitimises not just protected areas, but also ‘other effective area-based conservation measures.’ This speaks to a growing recognition of the need for diverse and equitable conservation models.

The Global Biodiversity Framework calls on nations around the world to conserve 30% of the land by 2030. One aspirational response to this call is South African National Parks’ new Vision2040 that reimagines protected areas as integrated into mega living landscapes, promoting biodiversity conservation and climate resilience alongside human well-being through a diversity of biodiversity friendly land uses. Namibia is pioneering wildlife credits to build resilience in their community conservancies. And Zimbabwe has a new report to mainstream biodiversity into development planning.

Looking ahead: a more grounded conservation ethic

Cecil the lion became a global symbol, but this story is not just about one animal—it is about the people, landscapes, and governance systems that sustain lions and their ecosystems. Conserving African wildlife means moving beyond symbolic gestures and moral absolutism. It means supporting diverse conservation models where local people hold real decision-making power and have legal rights to land and wildlife. Conservation needs to be grounded in justice, driven by local agency, and built for social-ecological resilience.

By Dr Hayley Clements

'On the Contrary...' is a thought leadership series. The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of Jamma Conservation & Communities. We provide a platform for diverse, evidence-based perspectives to inform and enrich the conservation conversation.