


The rise in big data and artificial intelligence has weaponized, excluded, disadvantaged, and exacerbated the inequities faced by oppressed communities. In the United States, President Donald Trump’s repeated attempts to exclude immigrants from census data—plus the gerrymandering that has increasingly distorted district representation—show that the way the population is counted matters. Yet if data were calculated and reported with integrity, then people could actually be seen, with all their needs and rights recognized.
In Brazil, one of the largest populations of uncounted people are the more than 5,900 Quilombola communities across the country. Quilombolas are descendants of Africans who escaped enslavement, established communities (often rural), and self-declared themselves as having a distinct ethnic identity from the rest of Brazilian society. Quilombola communities span countries such as Brazil, Colombia, Ecuador, Suriname, Honduras, Belize, and Nicaragua, and they have often been guaranteed specific territorial rights to protect their shared ancestry, social fabric, and existence.
A new study, published in the journal World Development Sustainability in June, found a vast lack of data on Quilombola lands and people. The study highlighted the finding that of the more than 5,900 Quilombola communities in Brazil, only 494 are named and acknowledged through public records. For the rigorous analysis of multiple stages of gaining land rights in this study, sufficient data was available for just 313 of these. Thousands of Quilombola communities remain invisible.
What this means is that these communities aren’t counted in any public data analysis; many don’t show up on Google Maps; and, importantly, many don’t have legal documentation proving where their territories start and end. This ambiguity creates much room for land conflicts and means that there is no clear way for Quilombolas to defend their lands once these conflicts begin.
This adds to a big list of existing challenges for Quilombolas, who already face poverty rates twice that of white Brazilians and who often lack access to basic sanitation, waste disposal, and even water. On top of all of this, facing persistent and disproportionate acts of racism and violence does not make life easy.
Without direct evidence that Quilombolas exist, it is easy to ignore these communities, including their rights, their dreams, and their demands. Insecure rights make it easy for land speculators to contest residents’ rights to their land—an urgent problem given that studies have estimated that more than 98 percent of Quilombola territories are threatened with encroachment and violence by mining, large-scale agricultural plantations, infrastructure development, overlapping private properties, and land grabs. Plus, a lack of political representation makes it difficult for Quilombola needs and demands to gain political attention.
Land conflicts also have global implications for climate change. Many Quilombola territories contain large proportions of rich tropical forest—with more than 3.4 million hectares of native vegetation—comprising habitats that could be destroyed if corporations and private owners gain claims to this land. Trying to determine the role that these forests play is very difficult; how can researchers know if their sample is representative when roughly 90 percent of this data is missing?
The study published in World Development Sustainability highlights that only 3 percent (or less) of Quilombola territories in Brazil have formalized land tenure rights. This is a drastic underrepresentation compared to the 67 percent of Indigenous territories with formalized land rights in the country—even though both populations are guaranteed land rights in the 1988 Brazilian Constitution.
A lack of data does not only translate to a lack of rights to land, but also a lack of access to public policies guaranteeing basic rights such as health care, education, sanitation, and agricultural financing. Indigenous peoples in Brazil have been far more comprehensively represented by public statistics—a recognition and rights that Quilombola residents also deserve. Recognizing land rights and preventing invasions cannot happen without data—written proof that Quilombola territories and people exist.
So why is there such a big data gap? There have been massive budget cuts and increased institutional barriers for Quilombola recognition, and some scholars and scholar-activists claim that these efforts have been intentional (see here, here, and here).
First, a severe defunding of INCRA—Brazil’s National Institute of Colonization and Agrarian Reform, the government body in charge of land tenure for Quilombola communities—has paralyzed Quilombolas’ abilities to obtain legal rights to land. In fact, funding designated for demarcating Quilombola lands decreased 89 percent between 2014 and 2019, and INCRA had budget reductions of 58 percent for these activities in 2019 alone.
Second, powerful groups in Brazil (such as members of Brazil’s agribusiness caucus) with strong anti-Quilombola sentiments—often backed by overt or covert racism—have set up numerous institutional barriers, preventing Quilombola communities from gaining land rights by making it increasingly arduous to reach the end of the six-stage approval process.
Data justice for Quilombola communities could be achieved by literally putting them on the map. Part of the project of land-grabbing and colonialism has involved intentionally claiming that lands are “empty” or “available” to negate the rights of those who have lived there for generations.
Much of that data is potentially available—if we look in the right places. The Brazilian organization CONAQ (the National Coordination of Rural Black Quilombola Communities) and other civil society organizations have made substantial efforts to support Quilombola interests, including through data collection, organizing, and public protests.
The 2022 Brazilian census also included Quilombolas for the first time in Brazilian history, since data on Quilombolas had never previously been collected in the census. However, the 494 officially recognized territories were not enough. More funding must be restored to INCRA, as well as increased support given to CONAQ and other related civil society organizations, to uphold constitutional and human rights.
Data is power. With the next U.N. climate conference—COP30—coming up in Belém, Brazil, in November as well as an increasing need to find long-term effective climate solutions, guaranteeing data to Quilombola communities is a critical way to promote environmental and data justice. Data can hold powerful actors such as politicians, corporations, and speculators accountable to the Brazilian Constitution—and to legislation that already exists to provide historical reparations.
Data can provide the evidence used in court cases, research, and public dialogue to protect the rights of Quilombolas. Data provides proof that Quilombolas exist, and Quilombolas—like other Brazilians—deserve no less.