Biopiracy: The Exploitation of Traditional Knowledge

Read time: 7 minutes

In an Indian household, herbs aren’t just for occasional use—they’re a staple woven into daily life. A home feels incomplete without them. As a child, I was often given molagu rasam (pepper rasam) or turmeric milk for a fever, haldi (turmeric) rubbed on cuts, or tulsi, hot water with coriander, cumin and pepper for a sore throat. The dreaded inzhichar (ginger juice) was the go-to for indigestion, though I’d insist on Gelusil. After moving away to college, I began craving these remedies—they soothed my stomach without the icky feeling of medicine. Now, I call my mom for guidance as I try to recreate Rasam or Inzhichar.

In our household, a doctor’s visit was a last resort, only happening when these remedies failed. And it wasn’t just for health—beauty routines were just as ingrained. An elder would oil my hair, and my mother or aunt would wash it with hibiscus paste, amla, and shikakai. I’d complain, only for my grandmother or aunt to tease, “You young people only appreciate these things when some U.S. study says they’re good! Then you’ll be running around saying, ‘Ooh, shikakai is amazing, coconut oil has so many benefits, I love oil baths!’ Fake angrez! Now hurry up, I have work to do.”

Her words hit home. Communities that have relied on these practices for centuries are now pressured to validate them in scientific terms to be taken seriously. It’s as if the collective wisdom of these cultures doesn’t count unless approved by Western research and stamped with the international IP regime. This need to “prove” indigenous knowledge reflects a broader issue of how Western frameworks dominate the global narrative. And while some traditional remedies, once dismissed as ‘unscientific,’ are now rebranded and commodified by the wellness industry, they’re often marketed without acknowledging their origins. Indigenous communities bear the double burden of preserving their knowledge while defending it within systems that frequently undervalue or exploit it. 

What is biopiracy, and what does colonialism have to do with it? 

Knowledge has always been linked in a circular and symbiotic relationship with power and applies to colonial power. The spread of colonial power also led to the spread of colonial thought, understanding, and behavior, also called epistemological colonialism. This played a role in the colonizers’ gradual undermining and underfunding of traditional medicine and, in India’s case, the practice of co-opting Western medicine by influential locals to ingratiate themselves with the colonizers. Now that the colonizers have retreated, a new form of exploitation that is in all forms a metastasized continuation of the oppressive power relations between Western and indigenous cultures. 

Biopiracy refers to the unethical appropriation and commercialization of traditional knowledge and biodiversity, typically by corporations or institutions, without obtaining consent or compensating the indigenous communities who are the original custodians of this knowledge. It exploits traditional wisdom and natural resources, often under the guise of intellectual property rights, which are structured in ways that favor powerful entities while being largely inaccessible to the communities that developed these practices. This process commodifies cultural heritage for profit, reinforcing global inequalities and depriving indigenous populations of their rightful ownership and benefits. Biopiracy can come in many forms, such as drug patents, agricultural gene manipulation, and genetic cell lines. 

Landmark Cases

Numerous cases around the world exemplify this exploitation. Some of them include:

Neem from India and Nepal was patented in 1994 by a multinational corporation (MNC) in the USA as Neemex, an antifungal spray, despite neem’s long-standing use by rural Indian farmers as an insect repellent, soap, and contraceptive for over 2,000 years. The European Patent Office (EPO) overturned the patent in 2000, citing a “lack of novelty and innovative step.”

The Hoodia plant, traditionally used by the San people of Southern Africa to suppress hunger during long hunting trips in the Kalahari Desert, was patented by the South African CSIR and licensed to Phytopharm and Pfizer. In 2003, a benefit-sharing agreement was reached, granting the San 6% of royalties and 8% of milestone payments. However, the commercial potential of Hoodia was limited due to safety concerns raised by Unilever.

Turmeric from India and Nepal was patented in the USA in 1995 by two scientists who researched its healing properties. The U.S. Patent Office revoked the patent, recognizing that Indians had used turmeric for thousands of years. This case set a precedent for challenging unjustified patents based on traditional knowledge, leading to the creation of India’s Traditional Knowledge Digital Library and influencing international frameworks to protect indigenous knowledge.

Aloe vera, known for its cosmetic, food flavoring, and herbal properties, has been the subject of over 1,800 patents registered in the United States, China, and Korea as of 2004. Concerns about biopiracy have emerged, as traditional knowledge from regions where Aloe vera has been used for centuries may be exploited without proper compensation or acknowledgment.

Quassia amara, traditionally used in French Guiana for its antimalarial, digestive, and hepatic treatments, was the subject of a controversial patent by French researchers in 2009, which lacked proper agreement with local communities. When the patent was challenged in 2018, the European Patent Office upheld it, sparking discussions about retroactive benefit-sharing agreements. This case highlighted a missed opportunity to advance indigenous peoples’ rights and equitable benefit-sharing.

It is fair to say that biopiracy is the ultimate act of neocolonialism—extracting the knowledge of indigenous peoples, commodifying it for profit, and leaving the original knowledge holders marginalized and without benefit.

Recent Developments

There has been a growing international movement to balance scientific innovation, intellectual property, and respect for traditional knowledge. The Nagoya Protocol, established under the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD), provides a legal framework to ensure fair and equitable sharing of benefits from genetic resource use. It obliges governments and the private sector to establish mutually agreed terms for sharing profits and benefits derived from these resources. Another measure, the Treaty on Intellectual Science, Colonialism, and Indigenous Peoples: The Cultural Politics of Law and Knowledge, seeks to ensure that patent applications disclose any involvement of traditional knowledge.

Western countries and some research organizations argue that such measures negatively impact innovation, claiming that using resources and traditional knowledge does not prevent communities from practicing their traditions. Some dismiss concerns over biopiracy as exaggerated, referring to it as “so-called biopiracy.” However, the question remains: how can technological progress on resources shared by all humankind be monopolized through patents? To overcome the disagreement and reach some agreement, the Treaty allows sanctions and remedies for fraudulent non-disclosure of traditional knowledge in patent applications. At the same time, punitive measures are not enforced for simple failures to disclose.

To conclude 

This article briefly touches on medicine and biopiracy but leaves out broader implications for food systems and biodiversity. My exploration of colonialism’s influence on scientific progress and intellectual property isn’t about dwelling on the past, as is often seen in India, where colonialism is sometimes used as an excuse to avoid current responsibilities. Rather, I aim to examine the roots of exploitation and emphasize the need for balance—respecting traditional knowledge while ensuring it is fairly compensated and aligned with scientific advancement.

In my view, the issue lies not with innovation but in the failure to recognize that patents often build on knowledge cultivated by communities over centuries. These patents are controlled by the wealthy and powerful, preventing those who developed this wisdom from benefiting. As a result, products become inaccessible, often priced beyond the reach of the very people who contributed to their creation.

Personally, I still use mooru, inzhi, and uptan, embracing traditional knowledge despite knowing some ingredients may be contaminated with pesticides and chemicals—a reality of living on a student budget. I look forward to switching to organic alternatives when I can afford them.

References

Epistemological Colonialism & Resistance: A Case Study of the Epistemological Colonisation of India and Gandhi’s Resistance, 2020. Read here.

Patents based on traditional knowledge are often ‘biopiracy’. A new international treaty will finally combat this, 2024. Read here.

Biocolonialism: Examining Biopiracy, Inequality, and Power, 2018. Read here.

Politics Of Biopiracy: An Adventure into Hoodia/Xhoba Patenting in Southern Africa, 2016. Read here.

Biopiracy: Crying wolf or a lever for equity and conservation? 2023. Read here.

Biopiracy: the largely lawless plundering of Earth’s genetic wealth, 2020. Read here. 

Biopiracy: when indigenous knowledge is patented for profit, 2016. Read here.

The Quassia Amara Case: a typical case of catalytic Biopiracy of many social and legal developments, 2019. Read here.