Of the tigers that survive in the wild, as few as twenty or less represent the subspecies we currently call the South China tiger. But as many as an estimated three or four thousand represent the subspecies we call the Bengal tiger. Should we be as concerned about conserving one of these two subspecies as we are about conserving the other? If so, why? If not, which of the two deserves the greater consideration in terms of conservation effort?

Should we pursue the conservation of the South China tiger more aggressively specifically because there are fewer of them? Such a strategy in fact contradicts the reality believed to be true by most felid conservation biologists that so small a population is profoundly less likely to survive in the wild than its less-endangered cousins. However, other conservation beliefs dictate that the very criticality of the endangerment of the South China tiger is the feature that entitles it to more attention than less-endangered subspecies. The Bengal tiger, after all (such a strategy dictates), is apparently doing much better under current circumstances than the South China tiger, so let's devote efforts where they are "most" needed….

Taken to its extreme, and thanks to the extraordinary advances in the field of cloning, this argument can even be extended to include tiger subspecies that already have gone extinct. The Bali, Javan, and Caspian tigers are, technically, even more "endangered" than the South China tiger. There are none left, either in the wild or in zoos. But there are pelts… from which genetic material can be harvested…. Should we not devote a portion of our conservation efforts to producing "Jurassic" tigers?

What differentiates tiger subspecies?

Even before any consideration is given to the foregoing questions, however, the very nature of genetic classification needs to be carefully re-evaluated. While many sophisticated genetic researchers consider classifications of life forms valid down to the species level, far fewer experts consider designations below that level - i.e. down to the subspecies level - to be either crucial or useful.

Just what is it that makes a South China different from a Bengal tiger? Physically, while the animals are very similar in appearance, there are subtle differences in terms of size and color that can be used in the most general of terms to distinguish between members of the two subspecies. Genetically, there are-it has recently been determined-also characteristics that can be used to distinguish between the two. However, the members of the two subspecies can interbreed readily and produce fertile offspring. So just how much attention should we pay to the "difference" between these two animals for the sake of conservation?

Resources in terms of funding and manpower are severely limited when it comes to conservation. We therefore need to be supremely careful in allotting those resources based on anything that has to do with and index as arbitrary-even though it may not seem so-as subspeciation. The fact that we-human beings-have chosen at this point in time to establish discrete names for each of the tiger subspecies is more indicative of the needs of humans than the needs of tigers. The fact of the matter is that tigers have been slowly but steadily differentiating themselves for millions of years, one generation at a time. Furthermore, with the exception of the tigers on the islands of Sumatra, Java, and Bali, the geographic separation among the subspecies is extremely flexible, uncertain, and at least partly reliant upon man-made designations - for example the line dividing Bengal and Indochinese tigers is the Irrawaddy River in Myanmar.

With captive tigers, these complication are equally vexing. Should we keep representatives of the subspecies separate (a technique known within the science of conservation breeding as "splitting"), or should we interbreed them ("lumping")? Lumping will certainly lead to offspring that are more genetically robust, but they will also be hybrids. To many conservation strategists, that is the consequence that must be avoided at all costs; not only do hybrid tigers represent neither subspecies purely, they can only and forever give birth to other hybrids. Other strategists, however, point to the fact that many animals will hybridize naturally among their subspecies in certain cases-including tigers. Indeed, as the geographic boundaries between tiger populations merge and the animals wander to and from regions, their genetic differentiation smoothes into near nonexistence.
Then there's the white tiger. Not only are these animals not albinos, they're also not a distinct subspecies. White tigers were originally just a "type" of tiger within the Bengal subspecies. Now, however, in captivity, cross breeding has rendered nearly all the surviving white tigers as hybrids. At the same time, the process of selective breeding of white tigers for the sake of propagating their unique physical type has ironically given rise to another, functionally opposite, aspect of genetics known as "inbreeding depression," which manifests itself through such physical deformities as crossed eyes, swayed backs, pinched pelvises, and knocked knees. As a result, most conservation biologists consider almost every white tiger now in captivity to be "worthless" in terms of genetic viability. Nevertheless, many zoos like to exhibit the animals because the public is especially enthusiastic about viewing these undeniably beautiful creatures.