Forest-to-Tourism Conversion in Indonesia: A Systematic Literature Review of Ecological Outcomes, Livelihood Substitution, and Governance Failures (2010–2026)
This systematic literature review of 42 studies (2010–2026) reveals that while forest-to-tourism conversion in Indonesia is predominantly framed as a win-win strategy, empirical evidence is skewed by publication bias and geographic gaps, exposing critical governance failures and livelihood substitution gaps that undermine ecological integrity and community well-being.
Original paper licensed under CC BY 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/). This is an AI-generated explanation of the paper below. It is not written or endorsed by the authors. For technical accuracy, refer to the original paper. Read full disclaimer
Imagine the forest as a giant, living bank account. For centuries, people have withdrawn from this account by cutting down trees or catching fish, spending the "capital" to survive. But now, governments and communities are trying a new strategy: instead of spending the capital, they want to turn the bank into a museum. They hope that by inviting tourists to marvel at the trees and the sea, they can earn enough money to live on without ever touching the original savings. This idea is called "forest-to-tourism conversion." It sounds like a perfect plan where everyone wins: the trees stay standing, and the people get rich. But just like any big experiment, it's hard to know if it's actually working or if the museum is just a fancy trap that eats the very things visitors came to see. Scientists have been watching this happen in Indonesia, trying to figure out if the trees are really safe and if the locals are really getting paid, or if the whole story is a bit more complicated than the brochures say.
This paper is a massive detective story that looks at 42 different studies about this exact experiment in Indonesia between 2010 and 2026. The authors, Pramudya Bumishambara and Rheina Meuthia Ashari, didn't just read the stories; they built a special "Four-Quadrant Matrix," which is like a giant scoreboard with four boxes. They used this scoreboard to sort every study into one of four outcomes based on two questions: Did the forest stay healthy? And did the locals get a new, better job to replace their old, destructive ones?
Here is the big surprise the detectives found: The scoreboard is heavily rigged. A whopping 81% of the studies (that's 34 out of 42) landed in the "Win-Win" box, where both the forest and the people are doing great. It looks like a perfect success story! But the authors suggest this isn't because 81% of the time, the plan works perfectly. Instead, they argue there is a "publication bias." Think of it like a school where students only get to show their teachers their A+ tests, while the F-tests are hidden in a drawer. The studies that found failures, or places where the forest got damaged while people got rich, or where the forest stayed safe but the people got kicked out, are much harder to find. In fact, the "bad" outcomes only make up 19% of the literature.
The paper digs deeper to show why this happens. They found that most of the research is happening in Java and Sumatra, which are crowded islands, while the most critical forests in Papua and Kalimantan are almost ignored in the studies. It's like trying to understand how to drive a car in the jungle by only studying traffic in a city.
The authors also identified six different "themes" or types of stories in the literature. Some stories are about Community-Based Management, where locals run the show and things usually go well. Others are about Mangroves and the Blue Economy, where turning swamps into tourist spots can work, but sometimes the tourism itself ruins the swamp (a trap called the "Overtourism Trap"). Then there are stories about Marine Protected Areas, where the government builds a "fortress" to save the fish. The paper found that in these fortress cases, the fish are often safe, but the local fishermen are excluded and left with no income—a "Lose-Win Economy" where the environment wins, but the people lose.
One of the most critical findings is that the government ministries are playing different games. The Ministry of Environment and Forestry (KLHK) cares about trees, while the Ministry of Tourism (Kemenparekraf) cares about visitor numbers. They don't talk to each other enough. So, a place might get a "Tourism Village" award because it has lots of visitors (a win for tourism), even if the tourists are trampling the forest (a loss for nature). The paper calls this the "Ministerial Ego Syndrome."
The authors warn that we are missing the most dangerous stories: the "Lose-Lose" scenarios. These are places where the forest is destroyed, the tourism never happened, and the locals are left with nothing. The paper suggests these stories are missing from the research because when a project fails completely, no one is left to write a report about it. The "win-win" stories are being told over and over, making policymakers think the plan is foolproof, when in reality, it might be full of hidden cracks.
In short, the paper suggests that while turning forests into tourist spots can work, it's not automatic. It requires strict rules, honest reporting of failures, and making sure the local people actually get to keep the money they earn. Without these checks, we might be building a beautiful museum on a foundation that is slowly crumbling. The authors recommend that the government start tracking both the trees and the people's bank accounts at the same time, and that researchers start looking for the "failures" just as hard as they look for the "successes." Until then, the big picture of whether this strategy truly saves Indonesia's forests remains a bit blurry.
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