Within the bustling streets of Covent Garden, London, luxury consumers are enticed by the aromatic allure of frankincense products. These offerings, ranging from “age-defying” serums to moisturizing creams, capture the attention of health aficionados as they sip complimentary rose and berry tea. Known for its revitalizing qualities, frankincense has gained immense popularity within the global wellness market—estimated at an astonishing $5.6 trillion. This rising demand, however, has dire consequences for the frankincense trees that are essential for producing this natural resin, particularly those found in Ethiopia.
Historically significant, frankincense has been harvested in the Horn of Africa for centuries, valued by multiple cultures—most notably in ancient Egypt, where it was used in religious ceremonies. Frankincense trees, particularly the Boswellia papyrifera species found primarily in northern Ethiopia, account for two-thirds of the world’s frankincense production. Despite their deep-rooted historical and cultural significance, these trees face unprecedented threats due to aggressive exploitation driven by the wellness industry’s relentless appetite.
Frans Bongers, a forest ecology professor at Wageningen University in the Netherlands, notes that until about 20 years ago, demand for frankincense was predominantly from religious institutions. Fast forward to today, and wellness companies globally are scrambling for lineages of this prized resin, often resorting to unethical sourcing methods. In many cases, the frankincense sold in high-end shops cannot be traced back to the impoverished communities that harvest it, leading to exploitation as middlemen siphon profits away from the local farmers.
In the village of Tseykeme, located 3,400 miles from the high street shops of London, the detrimental effects of illicit harvesting are stark. Local farmer Demstu Gebremichael, 78, recounts his decades of harvesting frankincense, noting the change from a sustainable practice to one marred by crime and fear. The trees he once tended are now reduced to mere skeletons, with their bark crudely hacked away by thieves. The same trees that provided income for his family now leave him with less than nothing to show for his painstaking labor.
As local residents turn to illicit extraction methods out of despair, Demstu emphasizes a critical point: “People need to survive somehow.” He cites the desperate acts of neighbors who confront thieves, only to face beatings in return. The urgency for income has escalated amid compounded challenges of war and climate disruptions, leaving the future of frankincense at serious risk.
Research on Boswellia papyrifera warns that around 90% of these trees could vanish by 2060 if current harvesting practices persist. A study published in 2019 in the journal Nature found existing forests of these trees failing to regenerate—indicating a downward trajectory of frankincense production that could ultimately lead to their extinction. Fires, droughts, and soil degradation contribute to their decline, but the most pressing issue remains over-exploitation due to the soaring demands of the market.
The extraction process itself is equally problematic. Like maple syrup, harvesting frankincense involves tapping trees—making well-spaced cuts to let resin ooze out. However, the tree must be given time to recuperate between taps. Unfortunately, researchers have documented instances of reckless over-tapping, often driven by the need to meet international demand. As a consequence, older trees are dying at alarming rates, and youngsters are not maturing fast enough to replace them, leading to a vicious cycle of depletion.
The chain of exploitation continues with limited awareness among consumers about the implications of their purchases. According to ecologist Stephen Johnson, a frankincense supplier in New York can earn $200 per kilogram while local harvesters receive only $2 per kilogram—painting a stark picture of disparity along the supply chain. As the western wellness industry flourishes, the communities directly affected by this industry’s actions remain largely unrecognized and unsupported.
Efforts to protect these trees are underway, including discussions about adding frankincense under the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES). However, such a listing could push the trade underground, complicating an already fragile situation for vulnerable communities. Experts advocate for greater transparency and support for local farmers, urging that investments in training and development would be more beneficial than a protective ban.
In conclusion, the wellness industry thrives on the allure of natural ingredients like frankincense, but the hidden cost to the environment and local communities cannot be ignored. Without concerted efforts to ensure ethical sourcing and fair prices for local harvesters, the centuries-old tradition of frankincense production may face extinction. The intersection of wellness and sustainability is more crucial than ever, calling for responsible actions from consumers, companies, and policymakers alike.
