The indri is classified as Critically Endangered by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN, 2018), appearing on the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species. Though a solid estimate cannot be made at this time, their population is in certain decline. This species appears in the latest Primates in Peril iteration as one of the 25 most endangered primates in the world.

Much of Madagascar’s wildlife—90% of which is found nowhere else in the world—is threatened by habitat loss—indris among them. In the last 2,000 years, human activities have reduced the island’s forest cover by more than 90%. Of that reduction, almost half occurred between the years 1950 and 2000! Despite these harrowing figures, habitats continue to be dismantled in the wake of human development, and the poor regenerative powers of Madagascar forests makes this situation basically irreversible.

Swidden agriculture, also known as slash-and-burn, is a particularly problematic practice in Madagascar. Technically illegal, rice farmers use this technique to rapidly clear forest and provide space for their crops. Once the trees are burned away, they mix the ash into the soil to create a nutrient-rich blend perfect for raising their harvest. After only a few seasons, however, the soil becomes barren. Without roots holding it in place, the earth erodes away, and farmers have to move to another location, where they begin this unsustainable cycle anew. While there have been efforts by both government and non-government entities to force an end to slash-and-burn practices, they continue to be used. During the on-going pandemic, the desperation felt by local peoples has actually caused swidden agriculture to increase in many places across the island.

Sapphire mining is another illegal industry many locals turn to in order to combat poverty in Madagascar. Great swaths of land are ravaged in order to mine these tiny precious stones out of the ground. In October 2016, a sapphire rush brought roughly 50,000 small-scale miners to the Ankeniheny-Zahamena Corridor, a protected area in eastern Madagascar and home to indris. This corridor happens to join two of the area’s national parks, allowing indri populations to mingle at-will. Its on-going destruction speaks to another threat indris face: habitat fragmentation.

When indri habitats are fragmented, groups become isolated. This limits who can mate with whom, eventually creating genetic bottlenecks. When gene flow slows or halts altogether, it can quickly affect the viability of their offspring. Within a few generations, a lack of genetic diversity can increase vulnerability to diseases and parasites and even breed debilitating deformities. As generations become less viable, fewer individuals survive long enough to pass on their genes. If fragmentation of their habitat is not remedied, indri populations will likely die out in their isolation and the entire species could pass into extinction.

Figures now show deforestation rates of Madagascar’s tropical rainforests—prime indri habitat—have increased by more than 1% every year between 2010 and 2014. By 2070, researchers predict human-led deforestation, combined with the effects of global climate change, may reduce the island’s rainforests by a catastrophic 93%. By 2080, the indri’s total range may decrease by as much as 39% due to the effects of climate change alone. It should be noted that our inability to keep indris in captivity means that the types of captive breeding programs that have helped bring other primate species back from the brink are not an option. Once their habitats are gone, so too are indris.

Destruction of their habitat goes hand-in-hand with social unrest and political corruption in Madagascar. Locals trying to meet their own biological and financial needs find themselves at odds with conservationists. Protections that exist are seldom enforced, leaving indris in the dust.

These factors have created an unstable situation in which cynicism can flourish. As people migrate to where the money is said to be—hoping to strike it rich in sapphires, for instance—local cultures erode. With them, the local taboos about hunting indris that once protected them lose their value. Conservationists have long feared this scenario, and now it has come to fruition. Indris are increasingly hunted for meat and pelts, both of which fetch a pretty penny on the blackmarket. Current levels of hunting are already unsustainable. Some locals who still subscribe to such taboos have even found ways around them: killing indris for sale but not to eat themselves or purchasing indri-derived goods but not doing the killing.