The Wild Elephant Number Sri Lanka Needed (Part One)
Updated: Aug 13

Sri Lanka's Ministry of Environment says the country now has 7,451 wild elephants - up 26.7% since 2011. Is that true? Almost certainly not, and the timing of the announcement tells you why it was published anyway.
In late 2024, under government pressure, the Department of Wildlife Conservation drove roughly 150 elephants out of Kurunegala and Anuradhapura Districts toward Wilpattu National Park. The operation ended prematurely in an area called Oyamaduwa, where elephants were left stranded. Some took refuge at a nearby livestock farm, starving. A second drive followed in Mahailuppallama, in the same region.
Sri Lanka's own elephant researchers have been here before. A 2006-07 drive tried to move hundreds of elephants out of Hambantota into national parks. Many died of starvation, exhaustion, or gunfire; others simply walked home. Prithiviraj Fernando, the country's leading elephant biologist, has a blunter way of putting it: driving elephants into already-full parks is "like pouring more water into an overflowing glass where it only spills over." Sumith Pilapitiya, a former Director General of the Department of Wildlife Conservation, agrees: "There is no record of a successful elephant drive in Sri Lanka as elephants return and they're more aggressive because they associate humans with trauma." Both 2024 drives went ahead anyway, against that advice and against the government's own National Action Plan - a science-based, peer-reviewed framework built around community fencing, not mass removal, that the same government quietly shelved not long after taking office. What made the drives politically possible was a number: a population supposedly large enough, and growing fast enough, to bear being moved along.
The method behind that number is the first problem. Sri Lanka counts its elephants by "waterhole counting" - volunteers station themselves at thousands of monitored water sources during the dry season and tally whoever turns up over three days. It's a headcount by sighting, not a statistical survey. Prithiviraj Fernando, the country's leading elephant biologist, has pointed out that the total is directly proportional to the number of observation points. Deploy more watchers and the number climbs. Lose coverage to rain - as happened in 2024, when unseasonal downpours let elephants drink from puddles nobody was watching - and it falls.
There's a second flaw sitting inside the same three days: elephants move. A Sri Lankan elephant's home range can span 50 to 250 square kilometres, well beyond the reach of a single waterhole. Conservationists have warned since this method was first used in Sri Lanka that a count spread across several days needs near-simultaneous coverage, or the same animal gets tallied twice - once at one waterhole, again at the next, as it wanders on to drink somewhere else on day two. Nothing published from the 2024 count explains how, or whether, double-counting was screened out. Nothing about this method can tell a real increase in population apart from more watchers, better luck with the weather, or the same herd walking past two counters instead of one.
None of this comes with a margin of error attached, either. Real population estimates - built from distance sampling, dung transects, or camera-trap mark-recapture - report a range, with the uncertainty stated up front. Sri Lanka's count didn't publish one. It published 7,451, a single hard number, from a method that can miss an elephant entirely or count it twice, with no way of knowing which happened more.
Then there's the arithmetic. The 2011 count put the population at roughly 5,879. Since then, more than 4,000 elephants have died, many of them in conflict with people. Elephants gestate for eighteen to twenty-two months. Run those numbers forward and a jump to 7,451 isn't a recovery story - it only works if the 2011 baseline, produced by the same flawed method, was wrong to begin with. So either the earlier count undercounted badly, or this one is inflated. Elephant conservationist Supun Lahiru Prakash has made the same point since: more than 70% of the 2011 population died within thirteen years, and a dramatic increase is hard to square with that. The two figures can't both be trusted at face value, and nobody in government has explained which.
This is a fair thing to ask officials to account for, and to their credit, some of them seem uneasy about it too. The day the figures were announced, a Department of Wildlife Conservation official told The Island that the rise "does not necessarily indicate an improvement in conservation outcomes," and called it "a minimum estimate, not an exact count." That's not the language of an agency standing confidently behind its own headline.
What turns this from a methodology complaint into something worse is the order events happened in. The push to shrink Sri Lanka's elephant population predates the number that was supposed to justify it; a sitting MP was calling publicly for elephants to be captured and exported while the results still sat unpublished. The count then delivered exactly the outcome that push needed. Large-scale elephant drives resumed, over the objections of the same researchers and academics whose work the government claims to be acting on.
So line it up: a count built on a method that scales with observer effort; the same animals potentially tallied twice over three days of coverage; a jump too large for the mortality data to explain; an agency hedging its own result on the day it announced it; a reduction agenda that was already public before the results were ever announced. That's not five coincidences; that's a policy that came first, dressed up afterward in a number built to fit it.
Sri Lanka doesn't have too many elephants. It has too little land left for the elephants it's always had, and a government that finds it easier to move the animals than to manage the land. I don't think the 7,451 figure is a measurement; I think it's a permission slip.
Next in this series: The Elephants That Would Have to Exist
Sources
• Sri Lanka completes first elephant census since 2011 amid uncertainty - Mongabay, Sept 2024 (the waterhole method, 3,130 water sources, Fernando's "directly proportional to observation points" quote, unseasonal rain affecting the count, MP Jagath Priyankara's pre-results push to capture and export elephants)
• As Sri Lanka continues new elephant drive, scientists warn against creating new conflicts - Mongabay, Nov 2025 (the December 2024 Kurunegala/Anuradhapura drive, Oyamaduwa, the livestock farm, Mahailuppallama, the 2006-07 drive precedent, Fernando's "overflowing glass" quote, the "more than 4,000 deaths since 2011" figure)
• Sri Lanka's elephant corridor plan 'unscientific' - SciDev.Net, May 2025 (Sumith Pilapitiya's "no record of a successful elephant drive" quote, and confirmation that Sri Lanka's National Action Plan was shelved after the late-2024 change in government)
• Elephant population rises to 7,451, but experts urge caution - The Island, Nov 23, 2025 (confirmed in full: the DWC official's "does not necessarily indicate an improvement in conservation outcomes" and "a minimum estimate, not an exact count" quotes)
• Sri Lanka's elephant paradox: Govt. counts tourism dollars while playing a dangerous numbers game - The Island, June 2026 (confirmed: Supun Lahiru Prakash's "more than 70 percent... died within 13 years" quote and his skepticism of the growth claim on biological grounds)
• Fernando, P., Jayewardene, J., Prasad, T., Hendavitharana, W., & Pastorini, J. (2011). "Current Status of Asian Elephants in Sri Lanka." Gajah 35: 93-103 (the 2011 baseline of 5,879, and the 50-250 sq km home range figure) - read directly at ccrsl.org



Comments