Wild orchids face growing challenges as conservation falls short

Wild orchids face growing challenges as conservation falls short Gaby Clark Scientific Editor Andrew Zinin Chief Editor At first glance, it is easy to see why Corybas puniceus has captured the attention of collectors around the world. Small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, its unusual shape and bursts of color make it unlike almost anything else in the orchid world. The species, found only in Southeast Asia, is classified as critically endangered. FIU Earth and Environment professor Hong Liu studies what it takes to protect wild orchids like Corybas puniceus. Her latest research examines the gaps that remain in orchid conservation across one of the world's richest regions for orchid diversity. By identifying what is working—and what is missing—Liu hopes the region can offer lessons for countries elsewhere trying to protect their own threatened species. The findings are published in the journal Biodiversity and Conservation. Protecting orchids requires more than preserving the forests where they grow, according to Liu, who conducts research in the Institute of Environment's International Center for Tropical Botany at The Kampong. It also means knowing where plants in the marketplace come from, monitoring what is being sold online, understanding how wild orchids are used in breeding and including the people whose livelihoods depend on these plants. In Southeast Asia, where protection takes many forms—from national parks and botanical gardens to protections for Indigenous communities and support for the region's thriving floral industry—some species remain largely unprotected. Corybas puniceus is one of 26 endangered orchid species identified in the study with no conservation measures currently in place. The contradiction is difficult to miss—the orchids most sought after by collectors are among those with the fewest protections. At the heart of the problem is not knowing where an orchid comes from. Some orchids collected from the wild are later labeled as artificially propagated, a practice known as orchid laundering. Once an orchid is given that new identity, it becomes much harder to trace the plant back to the forest where it was originally collected. That uncertainty can follow an orchid across borders. Under CITES, the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species, orchids make up a majority of the plants listed for protection. But a CITES permit does not necessarily verify whether an orchid was collected from the wild or grown in a nursery. That can make it difficult for inspectors to distinguish a nursery-grown plant from one taken from the wild and later labeled as cultivated. The trail becomes even harder to follow when orchids move online. Liu's research examined orchid sales on the internet, where it can be difficult to know which wild-collected species are being sold, where they came from and whether some may need greater protection. Without that information, potentially threatened orchids can move through the marketplace with little oversight, crossing borders and circulating without leaving much of a trail behind. The research also shows that an orchid does not have to be collected from the forest and sold directly to enter the commercial trade. Sometimes, its journey begins much earlier. In breeding programs, different species can be crossed using parent plants that are already critically endangered. The original orchid may disappear from the marketplace, but its genetic material can continue through its offspring, carrying a connection to threatened wild species into future generations of cultivated plants. For Liu, that makes the orchid industry an important part of conservation. If the orchid trade is part of the problem, it can also become part of the solution. Countries that have developed modern technologies to produce orchids could share those methods across the region, helping establish nurseries and increase the supply of artificially propagated plants. A larger supply of cultivated orchids could give traders more plants to work with while reducing some of the pressure on wild populations. Conservation efforts could include sustainable facilities where harvesters can learn practices that reduce the impact of collecting, while still giving them a way to make a living. "I think that would be a win-win situation," Liu said. Underlying these challenges is another obstacle: plants often receive less public attention than animals. Scientists call this "plant blindness"—the tendency to overlook or underappreciate the flora around us. Liu says that disparity shows up in the resources devoted to protecting plants, from research funding to penalties for breaking plant conservation laws. "Just by comparison, it's quite quiet for plants, even for orchids," she said. Looking at all of these pieces together changes what orchid conservation can look like. Southeast Asia, with its enormous diversity of orchids and long history of producing and trading them, provides a place to see where conservation efforts are working and where gaps remain. "I think they're doing a fantastic job," Liu said. "But there's still a lot of work that needs to be done and can be done." For Corybas puniceus, that could mean finally putting protections in place for a species that has so far slipped through the cracks. And for the thousands of other orchids growing across the world, Liu hopes the same approach can help identify the gaps before more species disappear from the wild. Publication details Hong Liu et al., Identify conservation gaps and devise sustainable use strategies using orchid flora as a proxy, Biodiversity and Conservation (2026). DOI: 10.1007/s10531-026-03457-y Journal information: Biodiversity and Conservation Provided by Florida International University