Conservation for Whom? Archaeology, Heritage Policy, and Livelihoods in the Ifugao Rice Terraces

Abstract

Heritage landscapes endure not through the preservation of fixed forms but through the capacity to adapt to changing social, political, economic, and environmental conditions. Conservation policies that privilege static ideals of authenticity risk undermining the very systems they aim to protect. This paper advances a model of shared stewardship that links conservation of heritage to support for livelihoods, functional flexibility, and community authority in decision-making. Using the Ifugao Rice Terraces of the Philippine Cordillera as a case study, we integrate archaeological, ethnographic, spatial, and agricultural economic evidence to examine the terraces as a dynamic socio-ecological system. Archaeological findings and oral histories show that wet-rice agriculture expanded in the 17th century, replacing earlier taro-based systems and incorporating swidden fields, managed forests, and ritual obligations. Contemporary changes such as the shift from heirloom tinawon rice to commercial crops, the impacts of labor migration, and climate variability reflect long-standing adaptive strategies rather than cultural decline. Comparative cases from other UNESCO and heritage sites demonstrate that economic viability, adaptability, and local governance are essential to sustaining long-inhabited agricultural landscapes. We thus argue that the Ifugao terraces, like their global counterparts, should be conserved as living systems whose cultural continuity depends on their ability to respond to present and future challenges.

1. Introduction

Heritage landscapes should be understood as dynamic systems whose continuity depends on their ability to adapt to changing social, environmental, political, and economic conditions. Conservation frameworks that privilege fixed ideals of authenticity and integrity, such as those emphasized by UNESCO [1,2,3], risk overlooking the historical fluidity and adaptive strategies embedded in these landscapes [4,5,6,7]. The Nara Document on Authenticity [8] reinforces this view, arguing that authenticity should be defined within the specific cultural and historical contexts of the communities concerned, and that its expression may include change, adaptation, and the continuation of living traditions. To remain meaningful, heritage conservation must move beyond static representations and instead recognize the processes of change that sustain both material structures and the communities that manage them. In this sense, the approach outlined here follows the Nara Document on Authenticity’s determination that heritage is most meaningful when its continuity reflects the evolving values, practices, and priorities and needs of the community from which it originates.

In the Philippine context, heritage conservation is guided by the National Cultural Heritage Act of 2009 [9], which mandates the protection, preservation, and conservation of cultural properties, including historic sites and traditional cultural landscapes. The law recognizes the importance of safeguarding both tangible and intangible heritage and directs local government units to maintain cultural heritage inventories and formulate conservation plans. These provisions are particularly relevant to the Ifugao Rice Terraces (Figure 1), which are designated as National Cultural Treasures. The Act also emphasizes community involvement, requiring consultation with stakeholders in the management of heritage sites. While the legislation provides a framework for protection, its implementation often confronts the same challenges noted in global heritage discourse, including tensions between preservation of form and the adaptive practices necessary for sustaining living landscapes. This tension is precisely what the Nara Document warns against, urging heritage managers to balance material conservation with the evolving practices that keep heritage alive [8].

The Ifugao Rice Terraces of Northern Luzon, Philippines (Figure 2) illustrate this principle. Inscribed as a World Heritage Site in 1995 and celebrated as a “living cultural landscape” that exemplifies the synergy between human ingenuity and mountain ecology [10], the terraces are often framed through their aesthetic and symbolic value. Yet their significance lies equally in their role as a demonstration of Indigenous engineering and socio-ecological adaptation. Oral histories and ethnographic studies show the complex interplay of ritual practices, agricultural cycles, and environmental stewardship that underpins the terraces’ management [11,12,13,14].

Archaeological and ethnographic evidence shows that land use in Ifugao has always been flexible, shifting between swidden fields, pond-field rice terraces, house platforms, and reforested or fallow zones [15,16,17]. Changes in terraces’ function have historically responded to variations in labor availability, environmental pressures, and socio-political organization [18]. Contemporarily, terraces are sometimes repurposed for the production of vegetables, converted into residential plots, or left to regenerate as forest [19]. Such transformations reflect the productivity-focused decision-making that has long characterized Ifugao agricultural strategies.

Agricultural economic analyses confirm that decisions to maintain, abandon, or convert terraces are influenced by yield, household income, and labor requirements. In many cases, vegetable farming offers higher returns than wet-rice cultivation, making it a rational choice under current market conditions [20]. Archaeological surveys and excavations parallel these findings, documenting a history of terraces’ reuse that includes conversion to sweet potato or taro fields, transformation of house platforms into gardens, and reoccupation of previously fallow plots. These data challenge the perception of the terraces as an unchanging tradition and instead depict them as part of a long record of continuous adaptation.

This perspective is consistent with settlement archaeology, which interprets landscapes as the product of evolving subsistence strategies, social relationships, environmental interactions, and ritual traditions. Recent research underscores this view [21,22]. For instance, in studies of Mesolithic landscapes, scholars argue that detailed reconstructions of settlement and mobility arise most fruitfully when grounded in the specific subsistence practices that formed social–environmental relationships, rather than generalized economic models [23]. Similarly, ecological niche modeling applied to long-term archaeological data has demonstrated how changes in environmental conditions actively shape settlement behaviors and landscape trajectories [24].

Thus, insights from landscape archaeology, historical ecology, and critical heritage studies further emphasize that landscapes are historically contingent and socially negotiated [25,26]. For Ifugao, this means that conservation strategies must begin with an understanding of dynamic patterns of land use and social organization.

Integrating archaeological evidence with agricultural economic analysis underscores the central question for heritage policy: what is to be conserved, for whom, and under what conditions? Effective conservation must address the economic realities of contemporary farming, the labor demands of terraces’ maintenance, and the social values that local communities attach to land. By adopting this approach, heritage in Ifugao can be reframed as a living, adaptive system rather than a static representation of the past.

Dynamic Landscapes and Ethics of Stewardship

Settlement and landscape archaeology show the Ifugao Rice Terraces as dynamic systems, not static monuments. Terraces, irrigation, forests, and ritual spaces form an integrated landscape shaped by shifting social, economic, and ecological conditions [27,28]. Archaeological evidence shows the land use developed, from swidden to pond-field systems, residential zones, or fallow, demonstrating ongoing adaptation [29,30].

Historical ecology emphasizes that landscapes record negotiated human–environment interactions over time [25,26]. In Ifugao, centuries of Indigenous engineering and ritual practice produced resilient, flexible systems [31,32]. Yet heritage management often privileges static notions of authenticity, risking erasure of these adaptive histories [10,33].

In addition, intangible heritage such as songs, rituals, and ecological knowledge is embedded in cultivation. Hudhud chants and the punnuk ritual link farming to memory and identity [34,35]. As farming shifts, these traditions erode.

Moreover, ethical conservation requires acknowledging the political dimensions of heritage and asking who decides what is worth preserving and why [36,37]. Shared stewardship offers an alternative by supporting local agency, redistributing benefits, and sustaining both tangible and intangible heritage.

This approach resonates with emerging models of living heritage that center adaptability and community participation. Rather than preserving idealized forms, conservation should invest in practices that allow heritage to persist through change by supporting livelihoods, transmission of knowledge, and autonomy in heritage-making [38].

2. Methods

This study integrates archaeological, agricultural economics, and ethnographic approaches within a socio-ecological systems and political ecology framework to examine the Ifugao Rice Terraces as a dynamic landscape and to evaluate implications for heritage conservation [39,40]. The interdisciplinary design enables a diachronic perspective that connects historical land-use patterns to contemporary livelihood decision-making, linking empirical evidence with policy-relevant insights. Archaeological fieldwork was conducted at multiple sites representing diverse land-use contexts, including swidden fields, pond-field terraces, residential platforms, and managed forests. Sites were selected to capture spatial variability across the province, incorporating both UNESCO-inscribed clusters and non-listed areas (Figure 3). Selection criteria were informed by preliminary surveys, oral histories, prior research records, and spatial analysis of terraces’ distribution, following recommendations to define the research universe explicitly through culturally grounded boundaries and mapped extents [41].

Archaeological excavation strategies, such as stratigraphic profiling to identify occupation layers, radiocarbon dating to establish chronological sequences, and analysis of artifacts to infer subsistence practices and social organization [42], were planned with an understanding that material signatures could later be interpreted alongside agricultural profitability trends. For example, archaeobotanical and zooarchaeological analyses—using soil flotation to recover charred plant remains and faunal assemblages [42,43]—provided evidence of past cultivation and domestication strategies, which were then compared to present-day crop profitability patterns to detect long-term continuities or disruptions in economic logic. This integration of datasets draws from Holmelin’s [39] emphasis on tracing adaptive strategies through historical and contemporary material records to show how local actors balance environmental constraints with market incentives.

Spatial recording relied on precision GPS units and total stations, complemented by remote sensing data. Historical aerial imagery offered an early-20th century baseline, while LiDAR datasets exposed microtopographical features obscured by vegetation, enabling detection of abandoned terraces, modified irrigation routes, and shifts in cultivated area [15,44,45]. These spatial reconstructions, in addition to being archaeological records, informed calculations of potential agricultural yields under different land-use regimes. Qingwen [40] underscores that such geographic and infrastructural mapping can be used to model changes in productivity, labor distribution, and vulnerability to climate hazards—making it possible to assess the economic consequences of landscape change over time.

Participatory mapping workshops, conducted with farmers and elders, identified irrigation lines, muyong boundaries, and culturally significant landscape features, applying principles of community-based archaeology [46] and ensuring that local environmental knowledge was embedded in both heritage and economic analyses [39]. Ethnographic data from semi-structured interviews and focus group discussions with farmers, elders, and municipal officials in multiple municipalities provided qualitative detail on crop selection criteria, perceptions of climate variability, and the role of rituals in agricultural decision-making. These accounts informed the interpretation of both archaeological subsistence data and contemporary cost–benefit calculations, following Qingwen’s [40] observation that governance and cultural practice are deeply intertwined in land-use choices.

To analyze the economic logic of ongoing crop transitions, secondary data were gathered on tinawon rice (local varieties), inbred rice (government-introduced), and commercially grown vegetables such as tomato and cabbage. These were drawn from municipal agriculture offices for municipalities where each crop type is primarily cultivated—Banaue for tinawon and inbred rice, Tinoc for tomato and cabbage—and included average yields per area, selling prices, and production costs (seeds, fertilizers, pesticides, labor, transportation, marketing) [47,48]. Net income per half-hectare crop land area was calculated, allowing for comparison of profitability and vulnerability to shocks such as sudden price drops or climate-induced crop loss. By embedding these economic measures within the archaeological–historical frame, the analysis could identify whether current shifts towards high-input, high-risk crops represent historical continuities in adaptive intensification or novel departures from traditional resilience strategies [41]. In line with Nan et al.’s [41] methodological emphasis, resilience indicators such as diversification potential and dependence on external inputs were incorporated to capture both material and socio-cultural dimensions of sustainability.

This integrated methodology ensures that archaeological, spatial, ethnographic, and economic datasets are analyzed not as parallel lines of evidence but as interdependent perspectives on the same socio-ecological system. Techniques and instruments in each domain were selected and applied with cross-domain utility in mind: archaeological mapping informs yield modeling; ethnographic narratives contextualize economic data; and economic calculations provide a contemporary counterpoint to historical subsistence reconstructions. Such cross-fertilization allows for an evaluation of Ifugao land-use strategies over the long term, grounded in both empirical measurement and culturally embedded interpretation.

3. The Ifugao Rice Terraces as an Archaeological Landscape

The UNESCO World Heritage inscription identifies five clusters: Nagacadan in Kiangan, the entire municipality of Hungduan, the municipality of Mayoyao, and the Batad and Bangaan terraces in Banaue (see Figure 3). However, many terraces are not included in the UNESCO list. For example, the Banaue Viewpoint terraces, though excluded from the UNESCO inscription, are designated as National Cultural Treasures. Across these sites, whether internationally listed or nationally recognized, the terraces transform steep mountain slopes into productive agricultural fields through stone and mud walls, gravity-fed irrigation systems, and continual upkeep. For generations, Ifugao communities have sustained this landscape through deep knowledge of ecology, hydrology, and land management, transmitted through oral traditions and customary practice.

Archaeological investigations challenge long-standing assumptions that the terraces are over 2000 years old. Excavations and chronometric dating at multiple Ifugao sites suggest a later and more dynamic formation, with significant expansion beginning in the 17th century [42,49]. This re-dating places the terraces’ intensification in the context of Spanish colonial incursions into Northern Luzon. The terraces are better understood not as remnants of deep historic agriculture but as strategic responses to shifting political, economic, and demographic pressures. They served as both refuge and resistance by enabling an intensified food production that facilitated the consolidation of economic and political resources and helped reorganize social and ritual life.

Archaeological evidence indicates that prior to the adoption of wet-rice agriculture, Ifugao subsistence systems centered on irrigated taro pond fields, swidden plots, and managed forest zones. Excavated materials from the Old Kiyyangan Village (OKV) site, including carbonized plant remains and faunal assemblages, show that taro (Colocasia esculenta) was the staple crop until around 1650 CE, when wet-rice (Oryza sativa) cultivation emerged [42,43]. This agricultural shift coincided with increasing population and colonial pressures, prompting a reconfiguration of the landscape that allowed greater food production and territorial control. Rather than a complete replacement, this transition added to existing land-use systems, producing a mosaic of terraces (payo), swidden fields (uma), house platforms (boble), and private woodlots (muyong or pinugo) [17,44] (Figure 4).

Spatial modeling and GIS analyses from the OKV site also show that between 1570 and 1800 CE, the local population doubled, terrace expansion accelerated, and forested areas were preserved despite intensification [44]. Archaeological and ethnographic data show that land-use flexibility played a central role in Ifugao’s adaptation. Communities shifted between swidden and terrace cultivation, allowed fallowing and replanting, and alternated forest regeneration with reclamation. Some abandoned terraces were later reclaimed for subsistence or commercial crops. This system illustrates that the Ifugao landscape is not a static heritage form but a living and adaptive socio-ecological complex.

A critical aspect of this complex is the muyong or pinugo system. These managed forest zones are maintained by extended families and provide wood, fruits, medicinal plants, and water for irrigation. The forests also stabilize slopes, reduce erosion, and support biodiversity [50,51,52]. The muyong exemplifies traditional ecological knowledge and upland resource management. It connects forest conservation with agricultural productivity and has proven resilient to demographic and environmental shifts [53]. Despite its importance, contemporary conservation strategies often overlook this component and focus narrowly on the rice terraces. Figure 5 and Figure 6 show terrace abandonment and subsequent forest regrowth occur more frequently, as exposed by LiDAR scans of the Nagacadan Terraces in Kiangan, Ifugao. A historical photograph taken by Roy F. Barton in 1912—its exact location still being identified—is also included to illustrate the expansive distribution of terraces more than a century ago, when entire mountain slopes were carved into rice fields, a landscape no longer widely visible today. Some of these abandoned terraces are now being reclaimed for cash crop production. Contemporary conservation strategies often neglect this component, focusing narrowly on the visual icon of rice terraces while overlooking the broader socio-ecological system that sustains them.

Labor organization and tenure systems are equally central to the maintenance of the terraces. Historically, large-scale tasks such as repairing terrace walls or clearing irrigation channels were completed through kin-based reciprocal labor exchanges (ubbu). Access to land was governed by customary systems of inheritance, alliance, and ritual participation. These practices supported both economic production and social cohesion. Rituals, including the Hudhud chants performed during harvest, reinforced these networks and transmitted genealogies, moral teachings, and ancestral memory [34]. From an archaeological perspective, the terraces reflect both material infrastructure and social relations.

Processes of abandonment and reuse are also part of the archaeological record. Without regular upkeep, terrace walls collapse, irrigation lines silt up, and grasses take over. Abandonment is increasing today due to labor migration, market pressures, and climate variability. However, archaeological and historical data indicate that cycles of expansion, maintenance, and disuse have long characterized the Ifugao landscape. Recognizing these patterns challenges idealized views of the terraces as timeless and affirms their dynamic history.

Archaeology brings a long-term perspective to heritage conservation [54,55]. The terraces have survived not by remaining unchanged but by being continually adapted. Conservation should not aim to restore a fixed past but should support communities in managing change while maintaining their heritage’s value. Understanding the terraces as an archaeological landscape means recognizing them as living systems that require ongoing, locally rooted stewardship. This perspective informs how we address contemporary challenges such as economic transformation, environmental stress, and the erosion of intangible heritage.

3.1. Intangible Heritage and Knowledge Systems

The Ifugao Rice Terraces are also important ritual landscapes embedded in Ifugao’s cosmology, social life, and identity. Every phase of the rice cycle—field preparation, planting, harvest—is marked by ritual offerings to ancestral spirits, affirming the interconnection of humans, land, and the spirit world. These practices turn the landscape into a material archive of memory and meaning, where technical maintenance is inseparable from social and spiritual obligations.

A key dimension of this heritage is gendered knowledge. Women, particularly grandmothers, have long served as custodians of seed selection, drawing on detailed ecological observations to determine planting strategies. Ethnographic interviews demonstrate that over 20 tinawon rice varieties were used as recently as the 1970s, each selected for drought tolerance, pest resistance, or ceremonial purposes (

Table 1. Known and named commercial and local rice varieties cultivated in Kiangan and Hungduan Municipalities, gathered by Jacy Moore-Miller in 2014 [56].

Commercial Varieties	Tinawon Varieties
52	Binogon
82	Botnol
222	Iggamay
C-12	Imbannig
C-2	Imbuukan
C-4	Madduli
C-4 red	Mayawyaw
Diamond
Halaylay
Ingaspar
Ingaspi
Korean
Migapas
Minmis
Mukoz
Mulmug
Munoz
NSCI-208
Pakulsa
Oakland
Oklan
Oklan Minaangan
Pangasinan Variety
PJ-27
PJ-7
RC-218
RI-152
RI-238
Romelia
RP 224
Super 60
Taiwan
Thunder

). This system offered ecological resilience through diversity. Today, however, commercial seeds’ use, often promoted by external actors, has disrupted this intergenerational transmission. Elder women warn that without support, ancestral seed knowledge may disappear.

Terrace farming also served as a context for transmitting cultural values. Through work in the fields, children learned how to maintain canals, repair terraces, and participate in communal labor. With the decline in tinawon cultivation and youth migration, these teaching contexts are vanishing. The result is a loss of collective memory and erosion of the values that once structured Ifugao social life.

UNESCO’s recognition of elements like the Hudhud epic underscores the global importance of Ifugao’s intangible heritage. Yet such listings can create tension. While raising awareness, they risk turning living practices into performances. Some rituals, once integral to farming and feasting, are now staged for tourists, severed from their agricultural roots. Conservation cannot rely solely on documentation or display. It must support living practices, especially those tied to terrace cultivation and community-based labor.

By examining these dimensions, we see that intangible heritage is not peripheral but foundational to the Ifugao landscape. Effective conservation requires engaging with the knowledge, values, and social practices that animate the terraces, ensuring that preservation efforts remain grounded in community agency and lived experience.

3.2. Economic Change and Livelihood Strategies

The Ifugao Rice Terraces were historically constructed not solely for subsistence but for prestige-oriented production. Heirloom tinawon rice, cultivated once a year, was central to Ifugao ritual and social life. Its value lay less in caloric yield and more in its ceremonial role in feasting, kinship building, and status negotiation [16,57]. These practices were embedded in customary tenure systems, reciprocal labor exchanges, and ritual cycles [17].

Contemporary economic conditions, however, have altered livelihood strategies. Expanded access to education, healthcare, and markets has increased cash needs. As Ifugao households shift toward a mixed economy—including off-farm work, remittances, tourism, and commercial agriculture—land use has adapted accordingly. Tinawon’s low yield and labor intensity make it less viable for income generation. In contrast, crops like inbred rice, cabbage, and tomato offer faster returns, multiple harvests, and easier marketability (Figure 7;

Table 2. Comparison between income from cash crop vis-à-vis tinawon cultivation (in Philippine Pesos). (A figure of 0.5 ha is used here for comparison purposes. In practice, the average farm hectarage for rice is 0.25 ha, while 0.5 ha is for commercial vegetables such as tomato.)

	Rice		Vegetable
	Tinawon (Milled)	Inbred (Palay)	Cabbage	Tomato
Ave. Yield (kg. per cropping) (Cropping period: Tinawon 7 months, inbred (irik) 5 months, cabbage 3 mos, tomato 4–6 mos, with weekly harvesting over a span of 1–2 months)	1200	3000	10,000	30,000
Average price (PHP per kg) Price Range (min–max) (Unlike rice, price of vegetables is highly volatile. Data sources: Ifugao PAENRO, Tinoc OMAg (Office of the Municipal Agriculturist), key informant interviews)	100.00 90–110	17 14–20	25 5–70	20 4–90
Gross Income	120,000	51,000	250,000	600,000
Less Cost	59,500	34,000	214,000	435,500
Farm Input
Seed Fertilizer Pesticide Others	4500	1500 6000 1500	16,000 45,000 17,000 6000	5500 50,000 60,000 60,000
Labor Transportation Marketing	55,000	25,000	100,000 20,000 10,000	170,000 60,000 30,000
Net Income
Normal Income/0.5 ha Maximum Income Minimum Income (Maximum Loss)	PHP 60,500.00 PHP 72,500.00 PHP 48,500.00	PHP 17,000.00 PHP 26,000.00 PHP 8000.00	PHP 36,000.00 PHP 486,000.00 (PHP 164,000.00)	PHP 164,000.00 PHP 2,264,500.00 (PHP 315,500.00)

).

These shifts reflect adaptation, not cultural erosion. Diversification is an economic necessity for many families, one that responds to changing household needs and labor availability. The terraces remain culturally significant, but their use now encompasses both ceremonial and commercial production.

Labor, Migration, Tourism, and Climate Stress

The movement away from tinawon is also shaped by changing labor dynamics. Terrace farming demands intensive maintenance of walls, canals, and soil fertility. Yet rural labor pools are shrinking as youth migrate for education and jobs. Remittances support household expenses but reduce the labor available for farming, particularly for older community members.

Commercial cropping offers some labor efficiencies. Though requiring external inputs, these crops demand shorter growing seasons or less intensive upkeep. For families with reduced human labor, this is a practical tradeoff.

Environmental stress compounds these choices. Farmers report abandoning rice terraces damaged by typhoons or landslides, citing the difficulty of repair [58]. Climate change increases risk and diminishes the appeal of labor-intensive rice farming. Local narratives describe tinawon as “for consumption only, not for selling” and explain that vegetables are planted “because they have expenses” [58]. These decisions reflect pragmatism, not cultural disinterest.

The terraces are designed to manage water, soil, and slope stability in a mountainous environment. Gravity-fed irrigation channels bring water from springs and streams to the fields, while the muyong forest system above the terraces regulates hydrology and slope stability [53,59,60]. This system reflects centuries of adaptive management but depends on delicate balances now threatened by climate change [61].

Climate projections for the Cordillera region indicate rising temperatures and more intense rainfall. Local farmers already observe drying springs and more frequent landslides. Torrential rains damage terrace walls, while erratic dry spells leave paddies parched. A 2024 risk assessment [58] highlights how the terraces, once adapted to stable rainfall, are increasingly vulnerable to climate extremes.

Landslides and erosion present immediate threats. Saturated soils weaken structural integrity, collapsing walls and burying fields. Soil loss depletes fertility, and damaged irrigation channels disrupt entire networks. Repairing terraces requires coordinated labor, but when abandonment follows damage, the reciprocal labor systems that sustained terraces’ maintenance can unravel.

Drought compounds these risks. Tinawon rice requires steady water throughout its long growing cycle. Water scarcity leads many farmers to leave terraces fallow or shift to vegetable crops, as in Poblacion, Tinoc, where water shortages have driven the full replacement of rice with vegetables [19]. Others adopt lowland rice varieties that demand external inputs, further disrupting local seed systems and traditional practices.

These ecological changes ripple through cultural life. Rituals like the Hudhud chants and the punnuk tug of war are tied to the rice cycle. When terraces are not planted, ceremonies do not take place, weakening the transmission of intergenerational knowledge. As one farmer put it, “How can we teach the children if we have no rice to plant?” Such losses erode collective identity and the cultural biography of the landscape.

Despite these pressures, Ifugao communities continue to adapt. The muyong system exemplifies long-standing climate resilience through forest management, erosion control, and water regulation. Current initiatives by groups like the Save the Ifugao Terraces Movement (SITMo) integrate traditional practices with climate science, including forest restoration, irrigation repair, and blending customary water sharing with modern monitoring. These efforts show that adaptation is ongoing and locally driven.

Still, successful adaptation requires external support. Resources, infrastructure, and policies must align with Indigenous knowledge systems to sustain these landscapes under changing environmental conditions.

Settlement archaeology provides valuable parallels. Across the Andes and the Mediterranean, terraces have expanded, been reorganized, or been abandoned in response to economic and demographic shifts. The Ifugao case mirrors this pattern. Previous transformations occurred during colonial incursions and demographic growth; today’s changes reflect similar adaptive cycles.

Conservation narratives often call for a return to traditional tinawon cultivation, defining authenticity in static terms. Yet Ifugao farmers have always made strategic land-use decisions. Viewing terraces’ changes through an archaeological perspective highlights continuity in adaptation rather than rupture.

Ethnographic research demonstrates that economic, demographic, and climate pressures drive decision-making. Supporting farmers as heritage stewards means addressing the material conditions of their lives. This includes creating viable incentives for traditional rice cultivation, supporting premium markets for heirloom rice, and improving infrastructure to mitigate climate vulnerability.

Without such support, conservation risks echoing colonial dynamics, prescribing land use without addressing community needs. An ethical heritage policy must support locally defined strategies that balance cultural practices with survival and dignity.

Tourism has also grown into a significant industry in Ifugao Province. Before the COVID-19 pandemic, the province averaged around 71,000 tourists annually (2017–2019), with nearly half being foreign visitors [62]. Banaue, Batad, and surrounding areas developed as prominent tourism hubs, offering homestays, guided hikes, cultural performances, and viewpoints showcasing the terraces.

Tourism revenues are substantial. In 2019 alone, visitor spending in the province was estimated at almost USD 18 million [62]. This income supports local businesses such as hotels, restaurants, souvenir shops, and transportation services. For the local government, tourism taxes and fees represent important budget contributions.

From a heritage management perspective, tourism provides both opportunities and challenges. On the one hand, tourism revenue can theoretically fund conservation, generate employment, and promote cultural awareness. On the other hand, without equitable distribution, tourism can reproduce social inequalities and extract value from local heritage while returning minimal benefits to those who maintain it.

4. Discussion and Comparison

The Ifugao Rice Terraces share important characteristics with other long-inhabited cultural landscapes across the globe where heritage recognition frequently intersects with the realities of evolving land use. Examining comparative cases from Bali, the Peruvian Andes, Engaruka in Tanzania, and the Hani Rice Terraces in China underscores the universality of adaptive landscape management and provides specific analytical insights that can inform heritage policy in Ifugao. These cases indicate that the dynamics of agricultural change, socio-political transformation, and environmental variability are not unique to the Cordillera. They are recurring features of human–environmental interaction in highland and terraced landscapes globally.

In Bali, “the Cultural Landscape of Bali Province: the Subak System as a Manifestation of the Tri Hita Karana Philosophy”, inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List in 2012, is often cited as an exemplary integration of spiritual, social, and agricultural management. The subak system is a complex, community-based irrigation network linked to water temples that mediate both resource allocation and ritual obligations [63]. Its heritage framing emphasizes ritual continuity and the philosophical ideal of harmony between people, nature, and the divine. However, rapid urban expansion, tourism’s development, and generational disengagement from rice farming have reduced active participation in the subak. Hauser-Schäublin [64] characterizes this process as the “ritualization of agriculture,” where symbolic preservation of ceremonies can mask the decline in agricultural productivity. The Balinese example parallels the Ifugao experience in that heritage recognition risks emphasizing performance and aesthetics over function. Without explicitly linking heritage designation to tangible livelihood benefits, both cases demonstrate how conservation can inadvertently transform a working agricultural system into a staged representation for external audiences.

The Peruvian Andes offer another instructive example. Agricultural terraces in the Sacred Valley and around Cusco are celebrated as emblems of national identity and as tangible expressions of Inca and pre-Inca ingenuity. They are central to Peru’s heritage tourism sector and are maintained in part for their visual and symbolic value [18]. Yet in many areas, these terraces no longer function as productive agricultural systems. Heritage conservation in this context often prioritizes the physical preservation of terrace walls and surrounding landscapes while overlooking their agronomic rehabilitation. This creates a form–function disconnect that is also evident in Ifugao when terraces are restored primarily for their appearance, without addressing the economic viability of traditional cultivation. The Andean case reinforces the point that physical restoration must be coupled with support for agricultural productivity if heritage landscapes are to remain both culturally and materially relevant.

Engaruka, in Northern Tanzania, while not inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage site, is frequently cited in heritage and landscape studies as an important example of historical land-use complexity in Africa. Built and intensively used between the 15th and 18th centuries, Engaruka’s terrace and irrigation systems were later abandoned. Yet the site has seen episodic reuse by Maasai and other groups responding to environmental pressures and shifting social needs [65]. This case highlights a crucial insight: abandonment is not necessarily indicative of cultural decline. It can represent a strategic adaptation to new ecological, demographic, or political realities. This cyclical pattern of use, abandonment, and reclamation is directly comparable to Ifugao, where terraces have historically shifted between rice cultivation, vegetable production, and forest regeneration depending on labor availability, market access, and environmental stability.

The Hani Rice Terraces of Yunnan, China, provide an additional valuable comparison. Inscribed on the UNESCO World Heritage List in 2013, the terraces extend over more than 16,000 hectares and have been cultivated for over 1300 years by the Hani people. The Hani system integrates forests, villages, terraces, and water systems into an interdependent ecological and social framework, similar to the Ifugao muyong–terrace complex [66,67,68]. As in Ifugao, the terraces rely on intricate water management derived from forested catchments, with agricultural cycles deeply embedded in ritual and cultural practice. However, heritage recognition in the Hani case has coincided with growing pressures from tourism’s development, market integration, and youth outmigration.

Studies indicate that while UNESCO inscription has increased international visibility, it has also contributed to the commodification of cultural practices and a reorientation of agricultural priorities toward visitor expectations rather than local needs [67,69]. These pressures mirror those faced in Ifugao, where conservation narratives can valorize traditional forms while neglecting the socio-economic mechanisms that sustain them. The Hani example further illustrates that long-term viability depends on maintaining the integrity of the whole agro-ecological system, ensuring that tourism revenues and conservation investments support the communities who actively manage the terraces.

These cases highlight several important themes for the Ifugao context. First, economic viability is a critical determinant of conservation’s success. Agricultural heritage systems endure when they generate income or food security for local communities. Without this material basis, even well-intentioned conservation efforts may falter. Second, heritage’s sustainability depends on flexibility rather than fixity. In all four comparative examples, communities adapted land use in response to changing conditions, yet heritage frameworks sometimes penalize such adaptations as “inauthentic” [4,7]. In Ifugao, recognizing adaptive change as a legitimate expression of heritage could help reconcile conservation policy with local livelihood strategies. Third, the integration of local governance and decision-making into heritage policy strengthens outcomes by ensuring they align with community priorities. The subak councils in Bali, Andean village cooperatives, Maasai communal management systems in Engaruka, and local Hani administrative committees all demonstrate that participatory governance is key to balancing heritage goals with evolving socio-economic needs.

The comparative perspective suggests that Ifugao’s conservation framework should explicitly link heritage recognition to the enhancement of livelihoods, agricultural flexibility, environmental sustainability, and community authority in decision-making. In practice, this means designing policies and programs that not only maintain the visual integrity of the terraces but also support diverse forms of production, reward environmental stewardship, provide economic incentives, and sustain highland farming. By embracing change as an intrinsic element of cultural continuity, heritage policy can move beyond preservation of form toward stewardship through function, a principle that is as relevant in Ifugao as it is in Bali, the Andes, Engaruka, and the Hani Rice Terraces.

In the Philippine context, these goals are reinforced by the National Cultural Heritage Act of 2009 [9], which provides the legal basis for protecting traditional cultural landscapes and requires community involvement in their management. However, as in the comparative cases, achieving these objectives in practice will require aligning the law’s provisions with adaptive, livelihood-centered strategies that recognize the dynamic nature of living landscapes like the Ifugao Rice Terraces.

5. Conclusions: Conservation as Shared Stewardship

This paper set out to examine the Ifugao Rice Terraces as a living archaeological landscape, to interrogate how heritage policy addresses (or fails to address) their dynamic nature, and to propose a framework for conservation that foregrounds local livelihoods, intangible heritage, and adaptive strategies. Through the integration of archaeological, spatial, ethnographic, and economic evidence, we have shown that the terraces are not static relics but evolving socio-ecological systems. Their continuity lies in their capacity for change, a pattern visible in both the long-term archaeological record and the rapid transformations documented through ethnography and remote sensing. This reflects the position of the Nara Document on Authenticity, which holds that authenticity must be understood within cultural contexts and that adaptation can be a legitimate and necessary expression of heritage [8].

Insights from other long-inhabited agricultural landscapes reinforce this perspective. Across global contexts, economic viability, adaptive land-use strategies, and community governance emerge as the conditions that sustain heritage landscapes over the long term. For Ifugao, this means that conservation must be grounded in livelihoods’ security, flexibility in agricultural practices, and local authority in decision-making.

Although landscapes might appear stable to the casual observer, in fact they are in constant motion. Archaeological and historical records, combined with modern remote sensing data, show that land-use systems can shift dramatically within human lifetimes. If LiDAR datasets indicate that terraced landscapes can be abandoned and reforested within 50 to 100 years, then many of the patterns and transitions visible in archaeological contexts may also be unfolding in contemporary times. What we see as “traditional” landscapes today may be snapshots in a long continuum of change rather than fixed remnants of the past.

These patterns challenge the way heritage policy and popular narratives often frame agricultural systems. Conservation discourse often privileges the image of stability, fields frozen in an idealized past, over the lived, adaptive practices that sustain them. The persistence of a landscape in cultural memory, photography, or tourism marketing can mask the reality that the forms and functions of that landscape are continually renegotiated. Recognizing that change is the norm, not the exception, creates space for more nuanced, community-driven approaches to heritage management.

The terraces illustrate this tension between perceived permanence and actual dynamism. They are often viewed as timeless symbols of cultural resilience, yet archaeological and ethnographic research documents a long trajectory of transformation. Before wet-rice agriculture dominated the slopes, Ifugao farmers cultivated taro in pond fields and practiced swiddens’ cultivation in surrounding uplands. Over centuries, these systems gave way to wet-rice terraces, later complemented or replaced by vegetable farming, and, in some areas, eventual forest regeneration. The historical record shows repeated adjustments to meet changing socio-political, economic, and ecological conditions. These shifts are part of a continuing pattern in which socio-political upheavals, the introduction of new crops, altered trade networks, pest outbreaks, changing rainfall patterns, or soil degradation required technical and organizational responses. Livelihood strategies, whether driven by subsistence needs or opportunities in wage labor and tourism, also shaped land-use choices [70].

Heritage frameworks, especially those influenced by UNESCO, have often privileged visual permanence over lived practice [4,7]. In Ifugao, the terraces were inscribed on the World Heritage List in 1995 as a “living cultural landscape”, because they represent continuity. But this continuity is maintained through flexibility, not fixity. Historical aerial imagery, complemented by LiDAR and other remote sensing datasets, shows that thousands of hectares of terraces have already been reclassified as forestlands. This process can take place within 50 to 100 years, well within a single human lifespan. Thus, abandoned terraces can become indistinguishable from natural forest cover in a short period of time [14,45].

The speed of these transitions underscores the vulnerability of agricultural landscapes when labor, water, and market incentives shift. It also shows that terraces’ abandonment is not necessarily a sign of cultural decline. In some cases, it reflects strategic decision-making to reduce labor demands, avoid land-rights conflicts, or take advantage of new economic opportunities. For others, migration or engagement in off-farm employment makes the maintenance of labor-intensive terraces less viable. These realities complicate preservationist visions that emphasize form over function. Conservation policies that focus solely on retaining the physical appearance of terraces risk ignoring the drivers of abandonment, such as unpaid or undercompensated labor, inequitable tourism revenue, climate variability, and shifting demographic patterns. Without addressing these underlying causes, preservation becomes an exercise in maintaining symbols while undermining the social and economic foundations that sustain them.

As Cameron [71] notes, living heritage must be “responsive to contemporary realities,” not immobilized by aesthetic ideals. Khalaf [7] similarly warns that “unexamined assumptions about authenticity can render adaptation illegitimate,” marginalizing the very communities whose practices gave rise to the heritage in question. In Ifugao, this risk is real: terraces actively managed and repurposed may be viewed as less “authentic” than those maintained for their traditional appearance, even if the latter are no longer fully integrated into local livelihood systems. The Nara Document cautions against such reductive interpretations, emphasizing that authenticity resides in the cultural values and practices of the community, even when these result in material change [8].

The comparative cases examined in this paper reinforce these conclusions. Bali’s subak system, the terraces of the Peruvian Andes, and the Engaruka fields in Tanzania each reveal that long-inhabited agricultural landscapes survive not through rigid adherence to past forms but through the ability to adapt to changing ecological, social, and economic circumstances [64,65]. Across these examples, economic viability, functional flexibility, and local governance emerge as the central determinants of conservation’s success. Where heritage frameworks acknowledge and support these factors, landscapes remain both culturally meaningful and materially productive. Where they do not, conservation risks producing hollow monuments to an imagined past.

For Ifugao, the key takeaway is that the future of the terraces depends on shifting from preservation of form to stewardship through function. The National Cultural Heritage Act of 2009 [9] offers a framework that can support this approach by mandating the conservation of traditional cultural landscapes and requiring stakeholder consultation. Leveraging this law to operationalize shared stewardship would align national policy with on-the-ground realities, ensuring that conservation strategies protect both the terraces’ cultural significance and the livelihoods that sustain them.

A conservation model grounded in shared stewardship places local communities at the center of decision-making, directs conservation funding toward sustaining livelihoods, and strengthens the ability of landscapes to adapt to change. This can include initiatives such as supporting agricultural diversification, improving market access for highland products, and compensating communities for the ecosystem services provided by reforested terraces. What requires protection is not only the physical form of the terraces but also the social, ecological, and historical processes that give them meaning. Because these processes are dynamic, their vitality depends on the capacity to adapt. For heritage to remain meaningful in the 21st century, it must recognize change as an essential component of cultural continuity.