Features
Expanding and developing Wilpattu National Park, its many attractions
Excerpted from the authorized biography of Thilo Hoffmann by Douglas. B. Ranasinghe
Wilpattu is the largest National Park of Sri Lanka, with extensive parts in both the North Western and North Central Provinces. A large section of the present Park was established as a Game Sanctuary in 1909, and became the Wilpattu National Park in 1938.
Along its periphery were several Intermediate Zones and Sanctuaries, with a lower status of protection. By the mid 1960s Thilo strongly held the view that these were outdated and had to be incorporated into the respective National Parks, if they were not to be lost as conservation areas. Though they were effective buffer zones, in the eyes of most people they served only the interests of the small shooting fraternity.
Through the WNPS, as its Secretary, Thilo managed to convince the authorities, and in 1967 most Intermediate Zones, including those of Wilpattu South and Wilpattu East, were incorporated into the adjacent National Parks. Also absorbed into National Parks were most of the protected areas with the status of Sanctuary which bordered on them, as these had allowed free access.
Thilo believed that the large and very important Wilpattu West Sanctuary, bordering the sea on its further side, had to be amalgamated with the Park. During his term as President, the Society took up the idea and steadily agitated for it. The area could not be incorporated at first due to the presence in it of a few privately owned blocks of land, at Pomparippu, Kumburavi, Pallakandel and Vellamundel.
By the competent efforts of the then Director of the Wildlife Department, Mr S. D. Saparamadu, land in exchange was found at Vanativillu which satisfied the owners. (See also p.99.) Thilo’s proposal was thus put into effect. It has been described as one of the most important measures since the establishment of National Reserves.
This permitted the completion of Wilpattu National Park, by the relevant Gazette notification, dated December 9, 1973. Today, the total area of the park is 1,309 square km with a sea frontage of 48 km.
During that decade and the next Thilo proposed the extension of the Park into the sea to include Portugal and Dutch Bays and the Karaitivu Islands. This measure would have protected a valuable marine habitat, as well as the threatened sea animal, the dugong, now practically extinct in Sri Lankan waters.
This entire area has a very fragile ecosystem, which is unable to survive the massive human interference and touristic development which has recently been planned for it. Its protection should be strengthened, not weakened.The best known features of the Park are the villus, which contribute much to its beauty. Forty-four have been identified, of which 27 may be called small lakes. Thilo explains:
“The villus in Wilpattu are very shallow depressions of the land in which surface run-off water collects. Most of them have a natural overflow. For example, these flows are visible between Timbirivila and Borupanvila, and from Kumbukvila to Kokkari Villu. The only villus with no such overflow are Lunuvila and Kokkari, and at Dematavila it occurs only in very wet seasons.
“Rainwater, which when it falls is similar to distilled water, collects from the soil during run-off mineral salts containing calcium, potassium, sodium, etc. and carries the dissolved salts into the villus. During the drought much of the water evaporates. This occurs year after year. In the few villus which have no overflow the water becomes increasingly salty. In the others during the rainy season the surplus water washes out the excess minerals.
“Some time ago a foreign team of researchers wrote a paper on Wilpattu, in which they said that villus are caused by groundwater seepage, and that they are groundwater lakes. This wrong statement has entered the international literature.
“Just near Panikkar Villu there is a 40-foot-deep well, which in 1976 had only a handful of water collected in a depression at its bottom; we used it for drinking and washing during our weekend visits. At the villu there was yet some open water surrounded by deep mud. This shows that the water in the villu has no connection with groundwater. Villus are not more than two feet deep. Their bottoms are covered with a thick layer of soft mud, over an impermeable layer of clay, which prevents percolation in either direction.”
Thilo has a special liking for this Park, which he knows intimately. He was much concerned in 1976 when an unprecedented drought struck it. In consultation with the Wildlife Department the Society worked out an action plan to mitigate the effects. Again, Thilo explains:
“The drought at Wilpattu caused most of the villus to dry out completely. The large Kokkari Villu was reduced to a small pond with a fringe of deep black mud. I realized later that animals, especially sambhur, did not so much die from lack of water but from drinking toxic salt water when only the salty villus Kokkari and Lunuvila still held any water. Other animals died getting stuck in the deep mud which surrounded the drying-out villus.
“During any drought elephants and bears dig their own waterholes, elephants with the help of their trunks and bears by digging with their forepaws. Other animals such as barking and mouse deer, mongooses, etc. make use of these holes. Elephants can dig down to 2-3 feet. Bear dig to 4-5 feet down in sandy soils. But in 1976 the drought was so severe that the water table had gone down well below these levels.
“Therefore, we dug a number of water holes and managed to get water at seven to eight feet in sandy areas, e.g. near Manikapola Uttu. Holes were also dug by us at Dangaha and Etambagaha Uraniyas and at Kina Uttu which had gone dry. Water bowlers were brought up from Colombo and filled at Kala Oya. We then regularly filled oil drums cut in half lengthwise and buried all over the park in the dried-up villus. A. Baur and Co. Ltd contributed generously towards this project. Every Friday evening after work I drove up to Wilpattu and returned to office on Monday mornings. On Saturdays and Sundays we worked hard to provide relief I submitted a written report on each visit.”
Dr C. G. Uragoda in his book Wildlife Conservation in Sri Lanka (1994) writes:
“With the help of bowsers and tractors some 60,000 gallons of water were made available to animals in August, September and early October when fortunately the rain came. ‘The President Mr. Hoffmann personally supervised this major undertaking, spending almost every weekend in the Park.”
An interesting feature was the discovery at two places far apart, Nelum Wila and Mana Wila, of the remnants of many golden palm-civets. They are mainly nocturnal and thus rarely seen; they had been killed by leopards.
Thilo also noted that spotted deer can stand extreme droughts. In the Western sector of the Park these animals were in fine condition despite the total lack of water for weeks and miles around. Obviously they obtained sufficient water from the early morning moisture condensed on grasses and leaves.
During droughts elephants and buffaloes move to permanent sources of water, such as rivers.
Buffaloes were quite numerous in Wilpattu. The existence in Sri Lanka of the true wild buffalo is controversial; most are feral. Farmers in jungle areas would allow their animals to freely roam in the forests and open spaces, where they would mingle and mate with the wild stock.
They had wooden bells tied to their necks so that they could be found again. These were made of hollowed out blocks of the very hard and dark red palu wood (rarely also satin and other hard woods) with clappers of deer horn and the owner’s initials or brand marks carved in them. During the recent lengthy periods of abandonment of the Park the buffaloes of Wilpattu were nearly exterminated.
For decades, peril from man has threatened the Park. An ancient Dutch track, very rarely used, traversed the coastal section of the Wilpattu complex between the rivers Kala Oya in the south and Modaragam Aru in the north. This is an area of special importance. It provides a link to the sea for the rest of the Park, and is the abode of the elephants of Wilpattu.
In 1961 there was a proposal by the Army to rebuild the road. This would have severely affected the entire Wilpattu National Park. As a result of representations made by the Society the proposal was dropped. In 1982 a new wide Army road was built further west from Elavankulam to Mail Villu. The Society protested against it successfully.
The author learnt of the following detail not through Thilo but another person present on the occasion. This is an example of information forgotten or modestly omitted by him: see Chapter XI. The Society’s then President, Dr Ranjen Fernando and Thilo, its last, were called to a meeting of the Defence chiefs by President J. R. Jayewardene. The Army Commander spoke of the desirability of the road.
Thilo believed, then and afterwards, that a coastal road beween Mannar and Puttalam would help the LTTE more than the Army. With the President’s permission he put one question to the General: “Who controls the road between Mannar and Wilpattu?” The answer was: “The LTTE.” Jayewardene immediately ordered that the road through Wilpattu be abandoned.
In March 1985 Thilo and Mae drove to Wilpattu – as often before. When they did this they never neglected to pay homage to God Aiyanar in the customary manner. Mae insisted on it. The Deity’s domain is the northern jungles which are entered on crossing the bridge over the Deduru Oya north of Chilaw. By smashing a coconut at the little shrine here and by placing a freshly broken twig in the fork of a tree the God’s protection is solicited.
On two fateful days they were the only visitors in the Park. The first evening, Thilo saw and photographed on the beach at Karuwalakuda a group of men with fishing boats and nets. The episode is described in the Foreword to this book (page xi).
It was an LTTE killer squad, led by a man called Victor, which had come from Mannar by boat. During the night they moved through the Kala Oya estuary to Elavankulam where they hijacked the early morning bus. Driving through Puttalam the armed group reached Anuradhapura around 6 a.m. There they massacred a large number of civilians including Buddhist monks. They then sped back to Nochchiyagama, and across the Park to Pukulam in its northwestern corner, where around noon the same boats waited to take them back to Mannar, then in Tiger hands.
Within Wilpattu they murdered in cold blood over 20 staff and labourers. Range Assistant H. H. Bandara and Bungalow Keeper Tennakoon were forced to guide them, and both then shot dead on the beach.
The Hoffmanns were staying at the Talawila bungalow. Around lunch time on the second day the news of the massacres and the presence of the Tigers in Wilpattu reached it by radio. The staff and some Park workers there panicked, and pleaded that they should all flee in the Land Rover to Aliyawadiya, on the Kala Oya, many miles south.
After a difficult journey over long-abandoned jungle tracks, which Thilo fortunately knew, via Galge Viharaya and Makalanmaduwa, they reached their goal in the evening. They crossed the river, and found shelter for the night at the Kala Oya Hotel (now no more). A curfew had been declared in the District.
The following morning Thilo went back, now via the main road, to Talawila, to retrieve some overlooked items. At the Hunuwilagama entrance to the Park he had to await the arrival, 24 hours after the events described, of army and police personnel, and then he followed their convoy as far as the centre of the Park.
Mae was convinced that God Aiyanar had protected them.
(To be continued)
During the years that followed, the Park was closed and abandoned. Animals in it were slaughtered, especially buffaloes, wild pig, sambhur and deer. All the visitors’ and staff bungalows were ransacked and largely destroyed by roaming poachers, criminals and timber thieves.
Features
Aragalaya betrayed?
‘The treason of the intellectuals’ in the age of populism – Part I
Sri Lankans recently celebrated the fourth anniversary of the Aragalaya, which, some believe, ushered in an era of Left populism in Sri Lanka. Left politics in Sri Lanka has been ravaged by a crisis, since the late 1970s. It was basically one of an inability to regain the mass basis the Left lost in the 1977 elections. The Left was pushed out of the coalition government, led by Sirimavo, by the right-wing forces, within it, in the context of the global oil crisis that led to the adoption of austerity measures by the government.
This crisis of the Left exploded with the mass uprising ,known as the Aragalaya, which began with the hashtag campaign ‘Gota Go Home’. The nature of its development has come under scrutiny by critics who allege that hidden international hands orchestrated the movement. Nevertheless, the Aragalaya—which developed into an authentic citizen action—ultimately ended in a counter-revolution. The current JVP/NPP government came to power by riding the wave of public awakening that accompanied the Aragalaya.
Is the JVP/NPP government Leftist?
Even though the Western international media, as part of a strategy to manipulate the JVP/NPP administration from time to time, calls it a left government, it works very closely with the right-wing local capitalist class and international financial agencies.
Subaltern or elite?
While there was some initial attempt to identify the JVP/NPP government’s class basis as ‘subaltern,’ in the face of criticism, this formulation was changed to ‘non-elite’. It is correct that, generally, members of the new regime do not belong to the strata of the political elite of the traditional aristocracy and bourgeoisie. However, it can be argued that those who are holding the leadership of the NPP government are those with the aspiration of becoming the new elite. They are the emerging political elite, representing both the rural and urban petty-bourgeois strata.
The leadership consists of those who have risen to the top in professional fields and the bureaucracy, led by those in the fields of academia, medicine, engineering and technology, law, management, business, accountancy, and administration, alongside those who have traditionally been political activists and trade union leaders. Political power has been captured by these petty-bourgeois class elements that have embraced a technocratic ideology. Rallied around them is the capitalist leadership that directs chambers of commerce and is tied in with international capital.
In essence, the current regime represents an alliance formed between the petty-bourgeois and capitalist groups and international finance capital—an alliance that, by now, has replaced the popular bloc formed with ‘janathawa’ (the people) during the election campaign, leading to the formation of the government.
The new elite represents the heirs of the nationalist-Left tendency of the generation of the ‘56 daruwo,’ represented by the JVP, a social force that Bandaranaike released in 1956. The mainstream of the political change of ’56 came to be represented by Bandaranaike’s own party, the SLFP, whose promise of building a common man’s era fizzled out with the regime, led by Mahinda Rajapaksa, coming to an end in 2015. At long last, true representatives of the rural and urban petty bourgeoisie have assumed political power after a long-drawn-out struggle, however, shedding their Left credentials in the process. This is the generation that Gunadasa Amarasekara, the doyen of jathika chintanaya, controversially hoped would take responsibility for the future of the country. While they have assumed political power, their formulation of, what they call, punarudaya (the Renaissance) seems to be at odds with Amarasekara’s wish to recover the ‘Sinhala Buddhist civilisational consciousness’—a point which requires a separate discussion, at another time.
Some of the leftists, who joined the NPP to form the government, seek to justify their choice by claiming that the new regime stands for the two-stage revolution ‘a la Lenin’—that is, first, the bourgeois-democratic stage and then the proletarian-socialist stage; Sri Lanka will achieve industrialisation in the first stage, under punarudaya, or the Renaissance. What is not made clear is how Sri Lanka could industrialise while being under the grip of international finance agencies whose actions, economists argue, from the very beginning of their involvement in the Sri Lankan economy, have preempted even the remotest possibility of the country becoming an industrialised one. With its claim to bringing about economic stability and growth, the government has moved away from serving the genuine interests of the people, and the country, in the fields of economy, polity, and culture, as its critics point out, as briefly outlined in the next section of this article.
It is claimed that the theory of left populism was formulated in opposition to right-wing populism, which furthered the neoliberal agenda. Going by what is outlined below, can the JVP/NPP government be identified as a left-populist one?
Not economic democracy, but autocracy?
Left political parties, groups, and individuals in Sri Lanka widely hold that the crisis of Left politics has been intensified with the current government assuming power. According to their criticisms, the JVP/NPP government is not a Left government.
The current government entered into an agreement on debt restructuring with the IMF based on the conditions imposed by them, despite the expectations of the masses that rallied around the JVP/NPP election campaign and the promises made in its own election manifesto to renegotiate it. Accordingly, placing the larger burden of the haircut of the debt restructuring on the EPF of the working people has been carried out by the JVP/NPP government without any changes to the original plan.
It is apparent that the current government’s economic programme, from its inception, has been directed by the leadership of the representatives of the capitalist class, led by the chambers of commerce. The government has been mainly formulating and implementing government policy, based on the debt provided and the conditions imposed by the IMF and its affiliated institutions, the World Bank and the ADB, rather than on the felt needs of the Sri Lankan people.
An unbearable tax burden is imposed on the people. The government boasts that it has filled the Treasury with trillions of rupees, including the wealth it has exploited, via those taxes. Not only the poor but also the middle classes are oppressed by the unbearable burden of an ever-rising cost of living.
Poverty and malnutrition, which are major determinants of living standards, remain at high levels under the current government. According to official reports, 25 percent of the population lives in extreme poverty, while 80 percent of them live in rural areas. The poverty of the Tamil community, living in plantations, is even higher. Neoliberal economists themselves say that if calculated according to the real cost of living, the population living below the poverty line would be one-third of the total population. Women and children—and among them, girls—suffer the most from all this.
Sri Lanka’s micro-finance and credit crisis has trapped hundreds of thousands of people, mainly rural women, in a deep debt trap through predatory high-interest loans, leading to over 200 reported suicides. Activists have already expressed fears that the Microfinance and Credit Regulatory Authority Act, recently passed by the government, is designed to blame victims and will contribute to the erosion of consumer protections in such a regulatory framework by placing the onus of protection on borrowers. They stress that the Act does not include sufficient provisions to protect micro-finance and credit consumers.
Critics point out that not only our economic sovereignty but also our political sovereignty and security have been compromised by the secret agreements signed by the current government with the global American empire (US-Sri Lanka Security Memorandum of Understanding/Government Partnership Program (2025)) and the regional Indian power (India-Sri Lanka Security Partnership Agreement (2025)).
This government is strengthening relations with Israel—a nation that has embarked on a policy of genocide against Palestinians—and is maintaining cooperation with Israeli intelligence agencies and the military.
The current government has declared the private sector and the market mechanism, not the state sector, as the engine of economic growth at a level surpassing previous governments.
The government has accepted the neoliberal vision of subjugating large areas of social life to the logic of commodification. By allowing the market to behave as it sees fit, people have been subjected to the ruthless control of the market, except in the case of a few essential goods.
Critics have accused the current government of subtly but carefully implementing the privatisation of state-sector institutions, a move that the previous government had withheld in the face of public opposition. Services, essential to the survival of ordinary people and the middle class, such as public healthcare and education, are increasingly being brought under the influence of the market. There is no clear attempt to free passenger transport from the clutches of a rapacious private sector. The energy sector—oil and electricity supply—continues to be driven towards privatisation through fragmentation.
It is instructive here to note what Bhaskar Sunkara, Editor of Jacobin—the popular Left magazine published in New York that strongly backed Zohran Mamdani’s bid for Mayor—has to say on social infrastructures:
“Health care, education, transportation, energy, and telecommunication are not consumer goods but social infrastructures on which participation in modern life depends.
Organizing them through profit-seeking intermediaries that ration by price rather than need introduces predictable distortions. The result is a system that undermines both equality and efficiency. Decades of comparative experience suggest that public provision in these sectors can deliver better outcomes at lower social cost, precisely because it aligns provision with social need rather than purchasing power.” (‘We Need a Socialism After Capitalism,’ Jacobin, April 2026)
Serious damage to the natural environment and biodiversity continues under the current government. Deforestation, fragmentation of wildlife habitats, and human-wildlife conflicts have intensified. The release of protected lands to local and foreign private investors for so-called development, ignoring environmental impact assessments (for example, the Mannar wind farm projects), and the failure to stop illegal land acquisition and sand mining, which have undermined biodiversity, especially in the dry zone, are continuing.
The introduction of a biometric national identity card, funded by an Indian grant, in conjunction with the massive digitalisation programme, launched under the private sector operation, poses a serious risk of being used to unnecessarily restrict individual freedoms and to be used by the Sri Lankan government and foreign states to suppress citizens when necessary. Overall, it is clear from global experience that digitalisation, in the name of national security, is building a surveillance state. (To be continued)
by Kumudu Kusum Kumara
Features
The illusion of foolproof identity: Are even biometrics under threat by AI?
For quite a few decades,we have nonchalantly operated under a comforting and standard assumption that our bodies are our ultimate legal deeds. The features of every human body are quite unique. We have been taught that while passwords can be guessed, documents can be forged, and keys can be stolen, the biological architectures of our physical selves remain fundamentally unassailable and distinctly foolproof. Your face, your fingerprints, the unique landscape of your eye, are nature’s barcodes, forged from an intricate mix of genetics and intrauterine chance, utterly distinct to each of us among billions of people. This absolute distinctiveness made “biometrics”; automated methods used to recognise, authenticate, or identify individuals based on their unique biological and behavioural characteristics, the golden child of universally accepted global security. Amongst many other things, they are even trusted to unlock smartphones, provide access to sensitive portals, secure multi-billion-dollar wire transfers, cross international borders, and even safeguard top-secret military complexes.
Yet for all that, a profound and deeply unsettling shift is occurring, even beneath our own feet. The rapid acceleration of generative Artificial Intelligence (AI) and digital cloning technologies has begun to split open this relationship between biological reality and identity confirmation. Today, sophisticated software can replicate human voices with terrifying accuracy using mere seconds of feed-in audio, synthesise flawlessly lifelike videos of public figures saying things they never ever verbalised, and generate artificial fingerprints or facial configurations designed specifically to trick electronic gatekeepers. The comforting illusion that our bodily metrics are fool-proof is perhaps dissolving to quite a significant extent, casting a real-time shadow across the infrastructure of modern trust, even in everyday life.
Beyond the Fingerprint: The Expanding Universe of Identity
To understand the intricacies and depth of the current risks, one must look beyond the traditional hallmarks of identity verification. Perhaps the average person is clearly and deeply familiar with standard facial recognition, thumbprints, and the striking, complex rings of retinal imagery. Indeed, human biology offers an incredibly vast and nuanced spectrum of unique identifiers. Science and industry have quietly harnessed a long list of alternative indices to verify the identities and details of exactly who we are.
Consider iris recognition, which maps the intricate, visible coloured ring surrounding the pupil of the eye, or palmprint authentication, which tracks the expansive system of major lines, wrinkles, and minute ridges across the entire hand. Beyond these lie vascular biometrics, often referred to as vein pattern recognition, which uses near-infrared light to capture the unique layout of blood vessels seen beneath the skin of a finger or palm, a map completely invisible to the naked eye.
Furthermore, behavioural traits have proven just as distinct as anatomical ones. Voice biometrics analyses the physical anatomy of the vocal tract, nasal cavities, and vocal cords to isolate distinct sound frequencies. Gait analysis evaluates the precise, rhythmic mechanics of how an individual walks, tracking joint angles and weight distribution. Even keystroke dynamics, the precise cadence and rhythm with which you type on a keyboard, and ear acoustic geometry, which measures the unique way sound waves echo back out of your specific ear canal, have been successfully deployed to establish undeniable proof of identity.
The Pro Side: Unmatched Convenience and Safety
The historical arguments in favour of biometric systems remain incredibly compelling, which explains their near-ubiquitous adoption. First and foremost is the argument of unmatched convenience. Biometrics elegantly solve the “human error” factor inherent in traditional security appliances. You cannot lose your iris on a crowded train; you cannot accidentally leave your unique vein patterns at home; and you cannot forget the complex “password” of your facial geometry. It is an identity architecture that is permanently attached to the user, eliminating the friction of remembering combinations of symbols or carrying physical keys.
From a general, social and systemic perspective, biometrics have provided an unprecedented layer of objective truth. In criminal justice, fingerprint and DNA databases have exonerated the wrongfully accused, reunited missing children with families, and brought dangerous fugitives to justice based on definitive physical evidence rather than fickle, unreliable human memory. At international borders, automated biometric gates process millions of travellers daily with high efficiency, flagging authentic security threats while speeding up travel for the public. In the financial sector, a glance at a smartphone or a press of a thumb could prevent billions of dollars from being fraudulently stolen in identity theft and sham transactions every year by ensuring the actual account owner is physically present.
The Dark Side: When Your Body Becomes a Vulnerability
Despite these immense benefits, the reliance on biological markers has always harboured a fundamental flaw: the absolute permanence of the data. If a hacker steals your credit card number or a critical password, you can easily log online, cancel the account, and generate a completely new string of random characters. The breach is a nuisance, but it is entirely correctable and is fixable. However, if a malicious actor steals the high-resolution digital file containing your retinal map, your facial architecture, or your voice print, you cannot change your body. You cannot reset your eyes; you cannot easily forge a new set of fingers. Once a biometric signature is compromised, it is compromised for the rest of your life.
This permanence creates a highly centralised vulnerability. Biometric authentication systems do not store your actual finger or face; they store a mathematical digital template derived from them. These templates are housed inside vast corporate and government databases, and even universal digital portals. As cyberattacks grow increasingly sophisticated, these databases represent high-value targets for digital thieves. The terrifying consequence is that a single security breach at a major technology company or a government agency could permanently expose the personal physical keys of millions of citizens simultaneously.
The AI Shadow: Faking even the Unforgeable
This brings us to a profound paradigm shift driven by modern artificial intelligence. The traditional and abiding defence of biometrics was that physical traits could not be replicated in real-time. A photograph of a face could not trick a system looking for depth, and a recorded voice lacked the dynamic shifts of live speech. However…, surprise, SURPRISE…, AI has completely shattered these firmly held conventions and inferences.
Generative Adversarial Networks (GANs), a class of AI models in which two neural networks compete against each other, are now capable of analysing thousands of images or audio clips of an individual and creating a near-flawless synthetic clone. A clone refers to an exact copy, duplicate, or true genetic replica of another organism, cell, or object. The term applies across several fields and implies an absolutely identical real-life descriptor. Using these tools, fraudsters can create “deepfake” videos that mimic the precise micro-expressions, skin textures, and even the blink rates of a targeted executive, acclaimed scientist, an economist of global repute or even a political leader. In 2024, an employee at a multinational firm in Hong Kong was tricked into paying out 25 million dollars after attending a video conference call where every other participant was an AI-generated digital clone of his real-world colleagues.
Similarly, voice cloning has become a weaponised tool for financial scams. With less than ten seconds of audio scraped from a social media post, AI can synthesise a voice that is indistinguishable from a loved one or a bank official, perfectly matching the acoustic biometrics used by telephone banking systems. Even more alarming is the concept of “Master Prints”: the AI-generated, synthetic fingerprints that combine the most common ridge patterns found across the human population. Much like a master key that can open many different locks, these synthetic prints can trick biometric sensors up to 20% to 30% of the time, completely undermining the premise of absolute individuality.
Implications for the Future: Rebuilding Trust
The realisation that biometrics can be systematically manipulated has immense implications for the future of global society, law, and security. We are stepping into an era where we can no longer trust our eyes or ears to verify the identity of the person on the other side of a digital connection. This breakdown of trust threatens to disrupt not only financial institutions but also the very foundations of democratic systems, where synthetic video and audio can be deployed to frame individuals or fabricate digital evidence.
To survive this environment, the security industry must completely abandon the concept of the commonly used single-factor biometric authentication. The future will require a multi-layered approach. Biometrics will likely be coupled with behavioural signals that change dynamically over time, or physical tokens like cryptographic hardware keys. Furthermore, security developers are engaged in an intense arms race to create “deepfake detectors”; AI systems designed specifically to analyse incoming files for the microscopic digital artefacts left behind by generative software, verifying that a human face or voice is biologically real and is happening in real-time.
Legally and ethically, this shift demands robust new frameworks. Governments worldwide are beginning to recognise that our biological signatures require the same, if not greater, legal protections, as our financial assets. Laws must be strictly enforced to punish the unauthorised creation of digital clones and to compel corporations to encrypt biometric data using advanced, non-hackable methods.
A Balanced Path Forward
Ultimately, and even surprisingly, biometrics are neither a flawless saviour nor an inherent curse. They are powerful tools caught in the crossfire of an abiding technological evolution. They continue to offer unparalleled efficiency and security when implemented correctly. However, the dangerous myth of their absolute infallibility must be permanently laid to rest.
As artificial intelligence continues to blur the line between the real and the synthetic, our approach to identity must become as dynamic as the technology threatening it. We must stop viewing our physical bodies as unshakable passwords. True security in the modern age will not come from blindly trusting our biological uniqueness. It can only come from our collective vigilance, technological adaptation, and the implementation of robust, multi-layered digital defences that protect the sacred boundaries of who we really are.
by Dr B. J. C. Perera
MBBS(Cey), DCH(Cey), DCH(Eng), MD(Paediatrics), MRCP(UK), FRCP(Edin), FRCP(Lond), FRCPCH(UK), FSLCPaed, FCCP, Hony. FRCPCH(UK), Hony. FCGP(SL)
Specialist Consultant Paediatrician and Honorary Senior Fellow, Postgraduate Institute of Medicine, University of Colombo, Sri Lanka.
An independent free-lance correspondent.
Features
Human-caused leopard deaths soar in Sri Lanka’s Central Highlands, new study warns
A groundbreaking international study, spanning 17 years, has revealed an alarming rise in human-caused deaths of the endangered Sri Lankan leopard, with the majority of fatalities concentrated in the tea estate landscapes of the Central Highlands.
The peer-reviewed study, titled “Human-Caused Leopard Deaths in Sri Lanka Are Concentrated in Central Highlands’ Estate Mosaics: Evidence From 17 Years of Mortality Records,” was recently published in the prestigious scientific journal Wiley’s Wildlife Letters.
The research team was led by conservation scientist Sanjaya Weerakkody and comprised a distinguished group of local and international researchers, including Vimukthi Gunasekara, Sethil Muhandiram, Try Surya Harapan, Kithmi R. Gunasekara, Bandini Jayasena, John B. Wilson, Prathiba M. Amugoda, Tharika de Silva, Chathuranga D. Hathurusinghe, Ahimsa Campos-Arceiz, and Enoka P. Kudavidanage.
The scientists represented a broad collaboration of institutions, including the Southeast Asia Biodiversity Research Institute of the Chinese Academy of Sciences, Yunnan Provincial Tropical Rainforest and Asian Elephant Conservation Innovation Team in China, LeopardCon Sri Lanka, Oklahoma State University in the United States, the Department of Natural Resources of Sabaragamuwa University of Sri Lanka, and the Tropical Ecosystems Research Network.
Speaking on the significance of the findings, researcher Sethil Muhandiram said the study provides the clearest picture yet of how human pressures are driving leopard mortality in Sri Lanka’s hill country landscapes.
“We found that plantation landscapes, especially tea estate mosaics in the Central Highlands, have become major hotspots for leopard deaths. Most concerning is the widespread use of wire snares, which continue to silently kill leopards and other wildlife,” Muhandiram said.
According to the findings, researchers analysed leopard mortality records from 2008 to 2024 and documented 164 human-caused deaths across the island, averaging nearly 10 deaths annually. More worryingly, the study found that leopard deaths have steadily increased over time, underscoring intensifying human-wildlife conflict in Sri Lanka.
The study identified wire snares as the leading cause of death, accounting for over 62 percent of cases where the cause was known. Many of these snares are believed to have been set for wild boar and other animals but ended up trapping leopards.
“Snaring is now one of the greatest threats facing the Sri Lankan leopard outside protected areas. Unless immediate action is taken to remove snares and strengthen enforcement, these deaths will continue to rise,” Muhandiram warned.
Plantation landscapes, especially tea estates in the Central Province, emerged as the most dangerous habitats for the country’s apex predator.
Researchers found that nearly 47 percent of all recorded leopard deaths occurred in the Central Highlands, while the Nuwara Eliya District alone accounted for 38.4 percent of fatalities, despite covering only a small portion of the leopard’s estimated range.
Researchers warned that the patchwork of tea estates, fragmented forests, villages, and agricultural lands has become a deadly landscape for leopards attempting to move between habitats.
The study also found that adult male leopards were disproportionately affected, a trend scientists caution could have serious implications for breeding populations and the long-term survival of the species.
Sri Lanka’s leopard, scientifically known as Panthera pardus kotiya, is an endemic subspecies found nowhere else in the world and is already listed as endangered.
Muhandiram stressed that conservation efforts must move beyond national parks and include estate landscapes where leopard-human interactions are increasing rapidly.
“Conservation cannot focus only on protected areas anymore. Leopards are surviving in human-dominated landscapes, and protecting them will require cooperation from estate communities, plantation companies, Wildlife authorities, and policymakers,” he said.
The study has further emphasised that leopard conservation in Sri Lanka can no longer focus solely on protected areas such as the Yala National Park, as significant leopard populations are increasingly surviving in estate and rural landscapes vulnerable to human pressures.
Researchers concluded that without immediate and coordinated action, Sri Lanka risks losing one of its most iconic and ecologically significant species to escalating human-induced threats.
By Ifham Nizam
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