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In a decision surprising very few people, Australia’s new environment minister Murray Watt has signed off on an extension for the gas plant at Karratha, part of the enormous North West Shelf liquefied natural gas project.

The decision had been deferred until after the federal election, given significant environmental concerns around the project.

This approval means the gas plant at Karratha can now keep running until 2070. The Woodside-operated project has helped to shape Australia’s reputation as one of the biggest suppliers of LNG in the world.

Watt did not have to consider climate impacts, but rather what damage the extension might do to ancient rock art as well as economic and social matters. His approval is “subject to strict conditions”, which largely focus on air emissions from the project. Critics claim the extension will threaten irreplaceable 50,000 year old rock carvings and petroglyphs.

The decision will enrage environmentalists. If the project continues to operate, it has been estimated to generate four billion tonnes of greenhouse gas emissions over 50 years.

Australia has committed to reach net zero emissions by 2050. But the majority of the gas extracted from the North West Shelf will be exported, meaning the huge emissions generated from its extraction, liquefaction, transportation and burning will not be counted domestically.

But while the Karratha plant now has a lifeline, there’s still an open question about where the gas will come from. For decades, the plant has processed gas from the North Rankin, Perseus and Goodwyn gasfields offshore. These are now running out.

The main purpose of extending the Karratha plant’s lifespan would be to process gas extracted from giant new gasfields lying underneath the pristine Scott Reef. Approval to open these gasfields has not yet been given because of the significant concerns extraction will damage the reefs.

What is the North West Shelf Project?

The North West Shelf development has been operational since the 1980s. Gas is extracted from huge basins located off the Pilbara coast and processed at the Karratha plant on the Burrup Peninsula.

To date, only a third of the 33 trillion cubic feet of gas in this basin has been extracted.

Woodside Petroleum is the project operator, holding a one-third shareholding along with Chevron and Shell in what is known as the North West Shelf Joint Venture.

The project is the largest producer of domestic gas in Western Australia, providing almost two-thirds of the state’s consumption. In the 2023-2024 financial year, it produced gas worth about A$70 billion.

Domestic consumers are paying much more for this gas than their international counterparts. For example, a $25 billion contract entered into with China in 2002 includes a guarantee prices will remain the same until 2031.

With the rapid escalation of gas prices, this means China is paying a third of the price paid by domestic consumers. Other markets for the gas include Japan and South Korea, which lack domestic gas resources.

The ‘transition fuel’ worse than coal

Gas has long been touted as a transition fuel in a decarbonising economy. But this is questionable on several fronts.

Rather than replacing coal, LNG may actually be displacing renewables.

Worse, a recent study showed emissions from LNG are 33% higher than coal over a 20 year period when extraction, piping to a processing facility, compression, shipping, decompression and burning for energy are considered. “Ending the use of LNG should be a global priority,” the report concludes.

Turning methane-heavy natural gas into a liquid to allow it to be shipped overseas is energy intensive. Large leaks of methane from wells and pipes are common during extraction and transport. When the gas is finally burned to generate energy, it produces carbon dioxide.

In China, coal’s share of electricity production has been eroded by renewables but not by LNG, according to the Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis.

From a big picture point of view, climate commitments can’t be met if high-emitting infrastructure keeps being commissioned. Alongside stopping the expansion of fossil fuel projects, existing fossil fuel infrastructure must be retired or retrofitted with cleaner technology.

Eroding ancient rock art

The project’s processing plant is located on the Burrup Peninsula, also known as Murujaga. But this peninsula also has about 500,000 rock carvings by First Nations groups, the densest concentration in the world. In 2023, former environment minister Tanya Plibersek announced a bid to give this area World Heritage listing.

In a new draft decision, the United Nations World Heritage Committee flagged concerns over the bid and referred it back to the Australian government to “ensure the total removal of degrading acidic emissions” and “prevent any further industrial development” near the petroglyphs.

Gas production and ancient rock art are poorly matched. Research suggests processing plant gases such as nitrogen dioxide, sulphur dioxide and ammonia have been gradually eroding the fragile petroglyphs for decades. Successive state and federal governments have failed to act to safeguard this area.

Gas projects seem untouchable

Approving the North West Shelf extension is a disaster for the environment, our climate commitments and the fragile and irreplaceable rock art in Murujuga.

It would seem that despite well-founded concerns on many fronts, big gas projects in Australia are all but untouchable.

Samantha Hepburn, Professor, Deakin Law School, Deakin University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Yesterday, new environment minister Murray Watt approved an extension for the North West Shelf liquefied natural gas project. The gas plant at Karratha, Western Australia, will run until 2070.

This expansion – and the pollution it will release – has led to a recommendation by the International Council on Monuments and Sites to defer UNESCO’s decision on the world heritage listing of the nearby Murujuga rock art.

Two of the recommendations prior to renomination of the site are to “ensure the total removal of degrading acidic emissions” and “prevent any further industrial development adjacent to, and within, the Murujuga Cultural Landscape”.

Murujuga has more than one million petroglyphs, some up to 50,000 years old.

It has the oldest depictions of the human face in the world and records the lore and traditions of Aboriginal Australians since the first human settlement of this continent. It is strikingly beautiful and is of enormous cultural and spiritual importance to the Traditional Owners.

Despite the immense significance of the site, a large industrial precinct has been built at its centre.

Concerns about the Murujuga Rock Art report

On Friday, the Western Australian Government released the long awaited Murujuga Rock Art Monitoring Program Year 2 report. This report examines the effect of industrial pollution upon one of the world’s most significant rock art sites.

We have conducted our own independent project into the impact of industrial emissions on Murujuga since 2018. Many of our findings support the details in this report but the government’s report summary and subsequent political commentary downplays the ongoing impacts of acidic emissions from industry on the world unique rock art.

The most significant findings are the Weathering Chamber results. These subjected all rock types from Murujuga to the air pollutants released by industry. The results showed that all were degraded, even with relatively low doses of sulphur dioxide (SO₂) and nitrogen dioxide (NO₂).

The second highly significant finding is that “there is statistically significant evidence of elevated porosity of granophyre rock surfaces”. This is centred on the industrial precinct in Murujuga. The report acknowledges industrial pollution is the most likely cause.

This degradation and elevated porosity of the rocks puts the survival of the petroglyphs at risk.

On our research team, Jolam Neumann’s still to be published PhD thesis at the University of Bonn, Germany, considered the impacts of industrial pollution on Murujuga rocks.

He used actual samples of gabbro and granophyre rock collected from Murujuga and simulated six years of weathering under current pollution conditions. He found elevated porosity in both rock surfaces. He also collected the residue to understand what was eroded from the rock and how.

He found there was significant degradation of birnessite (manganese) and kaolinite (clay) from the surface. The dark red/brown surface of the rock became porous and started to break down.

His work confirms industrial emissions are the cause of the elevated porosity in the report. His work shows the seriousness of the porosity: it is symptomatic of a process causing the rapid disintegration of the rock surface.

Damage is ongoing

With Murujuga Rock Art Monitoring Program report showing evidence of damage to the art from pollution, the state government chose to emphasise in their report summary that a defunct power plant from the 1970s and 1980s was likely the culprit.

The report’s data suggests this power plant produced about 3,600 tonnes of NO₂ per year, and less than 400 tonnes of SO₂ per year. Current industry in the immediate area produces more than 13,000 tonnes of NO₂ per year and more than 6,500 tonnes of SO₂.

If the old power plant damaged the art then contemporary industrial emissions will be damaging the rock art at least five times faster.

Neumann also gained access to a piece of rock collected in 1994 by archaeological scientist Robert Bednarik, and stored in his office in Melbourne for the past 30 years.

The area where this rock came from now has elevated porosity, but the Bendarik rock shows no signs of it. This means the bulk of the industrial damage is likely more recent than 1994 – and is ongoing.

Losing 50,000 years of culture

The rock art was formed by engraving into the outer thin red/brown/black surface of the rock, called rock varnish, exposing the blue-grey parent rock beneath.

This rock varnish was made in a process that involved the actions of specialised microbes called cyanobacteria. They concentrate manganese and iron from the environment to form an outer sheath to protect themselves from the harsh desert environment.

The rock varnish forms at an incredibly slow rate: 1 to 10 microns in 1,000 years (a human hair is about 100 microns).

These organisms can only thrive when the rock surface acidity is near neutral (pH 6.5–7). Their manganese sheaths are crucial to the integrity of the rock varnish, it binds it together and holds it to the underlying rock.

If you lose the manganese you lose the rock varnish and the rock art.

Neumann found the proportion of manganese in the Bednarik rock sample was 18.4% by weight. In samples collected in the same area in 2021, the manganese content had fallen to 9.6%. The depth of the varnish was reduced, and the varnish layer was full of holes where the manganese had been degraded.

The damage by industry over the last 26 years was clearly visible.

Increased porosity is reducing the density of the rock varnish layer and leading to its eventual degradation. There is also an absence of cyanobacteria close to the industrial sites, but not at more distant sites, suggesting industrial emissions are eliminating the varnish-forming microbes.

Where to next?

Industrial pollution has degraded the rock art and will continue to do so until the industrial pollution levels at Murujuga are reduced to zero.

There are two well-recognised ways to eliminate NO₂ emissions. One uses selective catalytic reduction to convert NO₂ to nitrogen and water. The second method is to replace all gas burning heat production processes with electricity.

The use of such technologies should form part of the conditions to the ministerial approval of the North West Shelf extension.

Benjamin Smith, Professor of Archaeology (World Rock Art), School of Social Sciences, The University of Western Australia and John Black, Adjunct Professor Emeritus, School of Veterinary Science, University of Sydney

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Is climate action a lost cause? The United States is withdrawing from the Paris Agreement for the second time, while heat records over land and sea have toppled and extreme weather events have multiplied.

In late 2015, nations agreed through the Paris Agreement to try to hold warming well under 2°C and ideally to 1.5°C. Almost ten years later, cutting emissions to the point of meeting the 1.5°C goal looks very difficult.

But humanity has shifted track enough to avert the worst climate future. Renewables, energy efficiency and other measures have shifted the dial. The worst case scenario of expanded coal use, soaring emissions and a much hotter world is vanishingly unlikely.

Instead, Earth is tracking towards around 2.7°C average warming by 2100. That level of warming would represent “unprecedented peril” for life on this planet. But it shows progress is being made.

How did we get here?

Global greenhouse gas emissions have risen since industrialisation began around 1850. Carbon dioxide (CO₂) is far and away the most common greenhouse gas we emit, while methane and nitrous oxide also play a role. These gases trap the sun’s heat in the atmosphere, preventing it from radiating back out to space.

In 2023, 41% of the world’s energy-related CO₂ emissions came from coal, mainly for electricity generation. Some 32% came from burning oil in road vehicles, and 21% from natural gas used for heating buildings and industrial processes.

The world is certainly feeling the effects. The World Meteorological Organization confirmed 2024 was the hottest year on record, temporarily hitting 1.5°C over the pre-industrial era. In turn, the world suffered lethal heatwaves, devastating floods and intense cyclones.

How are we tracking?

In 2014, the world’s peak body for assessing climate science – the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change – began using four scenarios called Representative Concentration Pathways (RCPs). These four big picture climate scenarios are based on what actions humanity does or doesn’t take. They comprise:

• rapid climate action, low emissions (RCP 2.6)
• two scenarios of some action and medium emissions (RCP 4.5 and 6.0)
• no action, high emissions (RCP 8.5).

The numbers refer to how many more watts of heat strike each square metre of the planet.

Of these four, only the RCP 2.6 scenario is compatible with the Paris Agreement’s goal of holding climate change well under 2˚C.

But Earth is tracking towards somewhere between RCP 2.6 and 4.5, which would translate to about 2.7°C of warming by 2100.

IPCC experts also developed five pathways of possible social, economic and political futures to complement the four scenarios.

Of these pathways, we are tracking closest to a middle of the road scenario where development remains uneven, the intensity of resource and energy use declines, and population growth levels off.

While effective, these scenarios are now more than a decade old and need to be updated. In response, my colleagues and I produced the One Earth Climate Model to outline rapid pathways to decarbonise. We set an ambitious carbon budget of 450 gigatonnes of CO₂ before reaching net zero – a pathway even more ambitious than the RCP 2.6.

The US, European Union and China together represent about 28% of the global population, but are responsible for 56% of historic emissions (926 gigatonnes) . The pathways compatible with 1.5°C give them a remaining carbon budget of 243 Gt CO₂. China would require the largest carbon budget to reach decarbonisation.

For this to happen, by 2050, the world would have to be 100% powered by clean sources and phase out fossil fuel use. This would limit global warming to around 1.5°C, with a certainty of just over 50%. We would also have to end deforestation within the same timeframe.

Emissions peak – are we there yet?

Emissions of carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases have still not plateaued, despite sharply increasing renewable electricity generation, battery storage and lower-cost electric vehicles.

But there has been real progress. The EU says its emissions fell by 8.3% in 2023 compared to 2022. Europe’s net emissions are now 37% below 1990 levels, while the region’s GDP grew 68% over the same period. The EU remains on track to reach its goal of reducing emissions by at least 55% by 2030.

Australia’s emissions fell by 0.6% last year. The country is now 28.2% below June 2005 levels, which is the baseline set for its Paris Agreement goal of a 43% reduction by 2030.

In the US, emissions are still below pre-pandemic levels and remain about 20% below 2005 levels. Since peaking in 2004, US emissions have trended downward.

The world’s largest emitter, China, is finally cutting its emissions. Huge growth in renewables has now led to the first emissions drop on record, despite surging demand for power. This is good news. For years, China’s domestic emissions remained high despite its leading role in solar, wind, EVs and battery technology.

China produces almost one-third (31%) of the world’s energy-related carbon emissions – not least because it is the workshop of the world. Every cut China makes will have a major global effect.

According to the IPCC, limiting warming to around 1.5°C requires global emissions to peak before 2025 at the latest. It now looks like the peak may occur this year.

Despite daily negative news, the decarbonisation train has left the station. In 2024, renewables accounted for more than 90% of growth in electricity production globally. Electric vehicles became cost competitive, while heat pumps are developing fast and solar is on a winning streak.

So, is it too late to save the climate? No. The technologies we need are finally cheap enough. The sooner we stop climate change from worsening, the more disasters, famine and death we avert. We might not manage 1.5°C or even 2°C, but every tenth of a degree counts. The faster we make the shift, the better our climate future.

Sven Teske, Research Director, Institute for Sustainable Futures, University of Technology Sydney

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Australia’s largest carbon market player, GreenCollar, has quit the federal government’s voluntary carbon neutral program, Climate Active. More than 100 companies have left the program in the past two years.

Climate Active provides certification to businesses and other organisations to verify that they are carbon neutral. Certification is supposed to mean an organisation has neutralised the impacts its greenhouse gas emissions have on global warming by buying carbon offsets, which represent emission reductions achieved elsewhere.

GreenCollar is among many Australian organisations that develop emissions-reduction projects, such as storing carbon in vegetation. Upon exiting the Climate Active scheme, GreenCollar co-founder James Schultz told The Australian that Climate Active had become too risky, due to criticism from environmentalists the carbon abatement associated with offsets is often not genuine.

Electricity retailer EnergyAustralia has also acknowledged “legitimate public concern” about carbon offsets and programs such as Climate Active that rely on them.

Effective carbon offset projects do exist in Australia. However, research by my colleagues and I, and many other experts, has found integrity issues are widespread in carbon offset schemes – and low integrity projects are all too common, including in Australia.

So how has this situation arisen, and what should companies do to genuinely reduce their climate impact?

What are carbon offsets for?

Every day, companies emit greenhouse gas emissions. This can occur directly from their own operations, or indirectly through electricity they use and products they consume. Some emissions can be cut easily and cheaply, but others are harder and more expensive to reduce.

Carbon credits emerged to fill this gap. Where it is expensive for companies to reduce their own emissions, they can buy carbon credits to offset them. Each credit is supposed to represent one tonne of carbon abatement.

For the credits to be legitimate, they must represent real, additional and permanent abatement. Real refers to whether the emissions abatement has actually occurred. Additional means the abatement would not have occurred without the incentive provided by the crediting scheme. Permanent means the carbon stored in, say, planted trees, will stay there over the long term.

Under the scheme, companies that buy carbon credits to offset their emissions can be certified as “carbon neutral”.

A key problem is that companies can purchase old, super-cheap credits issued under the Kyoto Protocol’s Clean Development Mechanism. These credits come from overseas projects such as windfarms and landfill gas projects overseas.

Serious doubts exist over the integrity of these credits. For example, a comprehensive review by European researchers in 2016 found the credits had “fundamental flaws” and most were “not providing real, measurable and additional emission reductions”.

Historically, these cheap credits have accounted for most carbon credits used in the Climate Active scheme.

The remainder have come from the Australian carbon offset scheme, which issues Australian Carbon Credit Units (ACCUs). But this scheme has also been plagued by integrity problems such as:

• concerns about the crediting of forest regeneration that does not exist

• credits issued for avoiding land clearing that was unlikely to ever happen

• the capture and combustion of methane from landfills that would have happened anyway.

These problems exist in carbon offset schemes around the world. Last year, an international group of researchers assessed carbon credits covering almost one billion tonnes of carbon dioxide equivalent. They found less than 16% constituted real emission reductions.

Where to now?

So what should be done?

The first step is for companies to ensure they are investing in high-integrity projects. In overseas markets, ratings agencies exist to assist with this. In Australia, ratings agencies do not assess domestic projects because the federal government doesn’t publish enough information to make this possible.

The government could help companies invest in genuine emissions reductions by requiring more transparency from carbon offset projects, and ensuring relevant information is publicly accessible.

Rather than purchasing carbon abatement, companies may be better off directly cutting their own emissions as much as possible, by changing the way they operate. This might mean investing in new low-emissions equipment, reducing air travel by employees, or switching to green electricity.

Companies can also make direct investments in quality projects which help mitigate climate change and support biodiversity conservation.

And the federal government should clamp down on the significant number of low integrity offset projects in Australia’s offset scheme.

In response to issues raised in this article, a spokesperson from the Department of Climate Change, Energy, the Environment and Water, which oversees Climate Active, said:

The Australian Government is actively considering the future direction of the Climate Active program. We recognise that Climate Active needs reform and that work is under way as a priority that will involve proper consultation.

The Climate Active program continues to operate, certifying entities that have met the program requirements.

The Australian Government continues to work to ensure the integrity of the ACCU Scheme, following recent reviews by the Climate Change Authority (CCA), independent experts and the Australian National Audit Office. These reviews have found the ACCU Scheme is well designed, well administered, and contributing to Australia’s transition to net zero by 2050.

Andrew Macintosh, Professor and Director of Research, ANU Law School, Australian National University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

UNESCO’s World Heritage Committee has again raised grave fears for the future of the Great Barrier Reef, highlighting the problems of water pollution, climate change and unsustainable fishing.

The committee this week released draft decisions regarding the conservation of 62 World Heritage properties. This included the Great Barrier Reef, for which it noted:

Overall, while progress has been made, significant challenges remain in achieving water quality targets, managing extreme climate impacts, and ensuring the long-term resilience of the property.

The comments confirm what experts already know too well: despite substantial investments from successive Australian governments, threats to the Great Barrier Reef remain.

Climate change is the greatest threat to the Great Barrier Reef and other coral reefs around the world. But water pollution is the most significant local threat. That issue, along with unsustainable fishing, is entirely within Australia’s control.

The World Heritage Committee will consider the draft decision at its next meeting in Paris in July. It may amend the decision, but the concerns are now on the public record.

What’s all this about?

The Great Barrier Reef has been on UNESCO’s World Heritage list for more than 40 years. The listing recognises outstanding natural and cultural places around the world.

The reef is jointly managed by the Australian and Queensland governments. UNESCO’s draft decision expressed “utmost concern” at the findings of last year’s outlook report, published by the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park Authority. It noted:

the overall outlook for the property remains one of continued deterioration due largely to climate change, while the long-term outlook for the ecosystem of the property also remains ‘very poor’.

Poor water quality persists

Poor water quality is a major issue on the Great Barrier Reef. It is caused when sediment, nutrients, pesticides and pollution from land-based activities, such as land clearing, farming and coastal development, are carried into the ocean.

In its draft decision, UNESCO noted with “regrets” that the latest water quality targets for sediment and nitrogen – a key component of fertilisers – were not achieved. UNESCO said the updated water quality plan should ensure targets and actions “are sufficiently ambitious and funded”.

As the below graph shows, actions from 2009 to now have reduced pollution only by about half the desired amounts. At the existing rate of progress and funding commitments, the targets will not be met until 2047 (for sediment) and 2114 (for dissolved inorganic nitrogen).

Huge gaps exist between current pollutants levels and the water quality targets. These and some other targets are well out of reach under existing funding levels.

The draft decision also requests a halt to illegal land clearing while strengthening vegetation laws – both fundamental to reducing water pollution.

Severe weather events exacerbate the water quality problem. In February this year, for example, floodwaters from ten major rivers merged to form extensive flood plumes along 700 kilometres of coastline from Cairns to Mackay, and up to 100 kilometres offshore.

Such plumes can remain present for months after a flood. They can smother seagrass and corals, and cause damaging algal growth.

The wicked problem of climate change

UNESCO’s draft decision noted “the overall outlook for the property remains one of continued deterioration due largely to climate change”.

Ocean heatwaves can lead to coral bleaching and potentially death. Mass bleaching occurred again this year on the Great Barrier Reef – the sixth such event since 2016.

UNESCO described as “deeply concerning” preliminary results showing heat stress was the highest on record during the 2023–24 mass bleaching event.

Climate change is also expected to produce more frequent and intense extreme weather events such as tropical cyclones, which can damage reefs and island ecosystems.

UNESCO called on Australia to align its policies with the global goal of “limiting global temperature to 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels”, and to take steps to mitigate negative impacts from extreme weather events.

The challenges of fishing

Unsustainable fishing practices damage the Great Barrier Reef. UNESCO’s draft decision noted progress in eliminating gillnet fishing, which is on track for the target of 2027.

The fishing method involves mesh nets which can accidentally kill other wildlife, including threatened species such as dugongs, turtles, dolphins and sawfish.

But smaller nets can still be used throughout much of the World Heritage area, so some threats to threatened species remain.

UNESCO also urged Australia to expand electronic monitoring of commercial fishing vessels, and to ensure the targets in its Sustainable Fisheries Strategy are met. It also called for a comprehensive review of coral harvesting, which primarily supplies the global aquarium trade.

What next?

Despite the significant resources and management efforts Australia expends on the Great Barrier Reef, serious threats remain.

The Great Barrier Reef is struggling under the cumulative impacts of a multitude of threats. The problems outlined above are not isolated challenges.

Both the Queensland and Australian governments could do far more to boost the health of the reef. Clearly, more funding is needed. Without it, the future of the Great Barrier Reef is in jeopardy, and so too its tourism and fishing economies, and thousands of jobs.

UNESCO has now asked Australia to provide more comprehensive results from the recent mass bleaching on the Great Barrier Reef, along with an updated plan to improve water quality. Its draft decision maintains the spotlight on conservation concerns for this precious natural asset.

Support for the aerial footage in the lead image to this article was provided by TropWATER JCU, Great Barrier Reef Marine Park Authority, the Office of the Great Barrier Reef, NQ Dry Tropics and CSIRO.

Jon C. Day, Adjunct Principal Research Fellow, College of Science and Engineering, James Cook University and Scott F. Heron, UNESCO Chair on Climate Change Variability of Natural and Cultural Heritage and Professor in Physics, James Cook University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Antarctica is the world’s great cooling unit. This vital part of Earth’s climate system is largely powered by the annual freeze and melt of millions of square kilometres of sea ice around the continent.

Our research shows changes to this annual freeze cycle in McMurdo Sound can lead to shifts in the diversity of algal communities that live within the sea ice.

At the start of the southern winter, as sea water begins to freeze, it expels salt and forms heavy and very cold brine. This sinks to the seafloor, ultimately forming what’s known as Antarctic Bottom Water. This is then pumped out to the rest of the world through several major oceanic currents.

Historically, this cycle meant that Antarctica effectively doubled in size and the continent was surrounded by an enormous apron of sea ice at the peak of winter. But the changing climate is shifting this annual cycle.

For the past decade, Antarctic sea ice has been in decline. It hasn’t been a steady trend, but each year since 2016 less sea ice has formed compared to historic averages.

Antarctica’s annual maximum sea ice extent in September 2023 was the lowest on record, with approximately 1.75 million square kilometres less sea ice than normal – an area equivalent to about 6.5 times the land area of Aotearoa.

Change happening at the continental scale is usually well documented and publicised. However, smaller, more local changes are also occurring in places such as McMurdo Sound, the home of Aotearoa New Zealand’s only Antarctic outpost.

For four of the last seven years, unseasonable winter southerly storms have been associated with significant delays in the timing of sea-ice formation within McMurdo Sound.

Where measurements were taken during these “unusual” years, the sea ice that formed later was thinner (1.5 metres compared to 2.5 metres) and had less snow cover (about 5 centimetres versus 15-30 centimetres) compared to the same locations during “typical” years.

Icy reefs and algal meadows

Another type of ice, known as “platelet ice”, also appears to be affected by the later formation of sea ice.

A layer of platelet ice extends into the ocean below the sea ice in some regions around Antarctica, including McMurdo Sound. It is a fragile lattice structure made up of loosely consolidated plate-shaped ice crystals, creating an upside-down reef-like structure.

The resulting protective environment is a hot spot for primary productivity – microscopic algae that support the base of the marine food web. When sea ice forms later, the platelet ice doesn’t have as much time to accumulate beneath and can be metres thinner than beneath older ice (down to about 1 metre from more than 3 metres).

Why should we care about sea ice? Because, it isn’t just a frozen, lifeless sheet expanding out from the continent, broken by the odd silhouette of a seal or a gathering of penguins on the top.

Beneath the desolate surface, where ice meets water, green meadows of microalgae can spread out as far as the eye can see.

Microalgae are single-cell, plant-like organisms that use sunlight to create energy. Similar to land-based meadows, they provide food for many other creatures. In winter, when other sources of food can be scarce, this sea-ice superstore plays a crucial role in feeding other inhabitants of McMurdo Sound.

Diminishing algal diversity under thinner sea ice

Our research indicates that when the sea ice forms later, microalgal communities living within the ice are also different. In later-forming sea ice, these vital communities are less diverse and dominated by fewer species.

Some species usually abundant in earlier-forming sea ice are absent or in low numbers when the sea ice forms later. Interestingly, though, it appears the quantity of microalgae in later-forming ice conditions is similar to “typical” ice. However, instead of being spread out through almost three metres depth of the platelet layer, they are crammed into a metre-thick habitat instead.

These microscopic snacks are diverse in shape, size and the roles they play in the ecosystem. It can help to think of microalgal communities as the produce section in the supermarket. Each type has preferred growing conditions and different nutritional values, producing varied quantities of important resources such as proteins, carbohydrates and fatty acids.

Imagine, one winter the weather is different and all that grows are cabbages and sweet peas. These won’t provide you with all the nutrients you need. This mirrors the problem when there is less diversity at the base of the food web. As the microalgal communities shift in the ways our research has observed, the quantity and quality of resources they provide are likely to change, too.

These early signals matter. They foreshadow wider ecological impacts, especially, if Antarctic sea ice continues to thin, retreat or form later each year.

We need more research to establish the nuances of these changes and the extent of their impact. But it is worth remembering that what happens at the base of the food web in Antarctica doesn’t necessarily stay there. These changes could ripple through ecosystems further afield with the potential to affect key fisheries in the Southern Ocean.

By paying close attention now, we have a chance to understand and adapt, to ensure ecosystems stay resilient in a changing world.

Jacqui Stuart, Postdoctoral Researcher in Marine Ecology, Te Herenga Waka — Victoria University of Wellington and Natalie Robinson, Marine Physicist, National Institute of Water and Atmospheric Research (NIWA)

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Imagine replanting various native species only to have them die because the area is too hot or too dry. Or reconnecting woodland habitat only to lose large tracts to bushfire.

Well, our new research suggests those scenarios are entirely possible.

We analysed the two most common ways to prevent overall biodiversity loss on private land in Australia. We found these efforts largely ignore climate risks such as fire, heat, drought and floods.

Climate change is already threatening the survival of species. Unless conservation efforts are made more resilient to climate change, Australia’s aim to to reverse biodiversity loss could fail.

What we found

We examined two types of biodiversity measures in Australia. One is “biodiversity offsets”, which aim to compensate for damage caused by development. The other is voluntary conservation programs, including “conservation covenants”.

We analysed 77 policy documents underpinning nine biodiversity offset policies and 11 voluntary conservation programs.

Of the 77 documents, 84% did not consider the impact of climate change. What’s more, only 44% of biodiversity offset policies and 27% of voluntary conservation programs considered climate risk. Even then, they often lacked detail or tools to translate policy into real action on the ground.

The most common climate adaptation strategies were:

• safeguarding climate refuges
• connecting habitat so wildlife can escape extreme heat, fires or droughts
• targeting funding
• avoiding offset sites vulnerable to threats such as sea-level rise.

But most documents lacked details on implementing these strategies.

We suggest three practical steps to ensure conservation efforts deliver lasting results in a changing climate.

1. Identify and protect climate refuges

Climate refuges are areas somewhat shielded from the effects of climate change. Gullies, sheltered slopes and forests with good water supplies can help species survive during heatwaves and droughts.

These places can provide a lifeline for endangered species and prevent local extinctions. Species may shelter in these areas during climate extremes and recolonise well-connected habitats when conditions improve.

Protecting climate refuges by restricting land clearing or other damaging activities is a common climate adaptation strategy. We found it featured in six policy documents supporting voluntary conservation programs and biodiversity offsets across Australia. But few policy documents explain where these places are or how to protect them.

For example, the New South Wales Biodiversity Conservation Investment Strategy lists climate refuges as high-priority assets under threat. The strategy says future investment should target these areas.

But we found no explanation of how investments would be prioritised, or where to find that information. Without this detail, mentioning climate refuges in policy documents is little more than having good intentions.

To be effective, refuges need to be mapped, prioritised and supported with appropriate protections and incentives. Nature law reform must strengthen protection of climate refuges to prevent further loss.

Conservation programs could also specifically incentivise landholders to protect or restore refuges on their properties.

2. Promote the actions that build resilience

On the ground, conservation actions must adapt to climate change. That could mean doing things differently. For example, planting species more likely to survive future climates, or connecting habitat so wildlife can move to new areas.

While these strategies are well established, we only found three policy documents that mention them. One is the Heritage Agreement policy in South Australia. This offers guidance and potential funding to help landholders implement these actions.

As Australia’s nature laws are reformed, funding commitments and conservation guidelines need to follow suit.

Financial incentives or technical support could be offered to landholders for activities that build resilience. Biodiversity offset policies could also mandate conservation actions that improve climate resilience at offset sites.

3. Adapting to climate change needs to link policy to on-ground action

Our research found a clear gap between high-level intent and guidelines for on-ground actions. If they don’t line up, then conservation efforts risk falling short. Field programs may lack legal backing, or legislation may not translate into action where it matters most.

Climate change should be considered at all levels of conservation policies – from high-level legislation to guidelines for implementing individual programs.

Policies should include clear and consistent targets informed by climate risk. This should be supported by regulations ensuring compliance and practical guidelines for on-ground action.

Voluntary conservation programs in New South Wales show how it can be done. State biodiversity conservation legislation includes conserving biodiversity under climate change as a key objective. This can then shape real-world programs. For example, the NSW Conservation Management plan echoes this climate commitment. It makes addressing climate change impacts one of the main targets.

A chance to get it right

National nature law reform and state reviews present an opportunity to future-proof Australia’s conservation policies.

These policies must consider the accelerating pace of change and ensure adaptation is embedded through to action. Such actions must be clear, well-resourced, and equipped with practical tools government agencies and landholders can use.

Otherwise, we risk making conservation policies unfit for the future – missing a golden opportunity to safeguard biodiversity.

Yi Fei Chung, PhD Candidate in Environmental Policy, The University of Queensland and Jonathan Rhodes, Professor & Director, QUT Centre for Environment and Society, Queensland University of Technology

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Seasonality shapes much of life on Earth. Most species, including humans, have synchronised their own rhythms with those of Earth’s seasons.

Plant growth cycles, the migration of billions of animals, and even aspects of human culture – from harvest rituals to Japanese cherry blossom viewings – are dictated by these dominant rhythms.

However, climate change and many other human impacts are altering Earth’s cycles. While humans can adapt their behaviour by shifting the timing of crop harvests or Indigenous fire-burning practices, species are less able to adapt through evolution or range shifts.

Our new research highlights how the impacts of shifting seasons can cascade through ecosystems, with widespread repercussions that may be greater than previously thought.

This puts species and ecosystems at risk the world over. We are still far from having a full picture of what changes in seasonality mean for the future of biodiversity.

Almost every ecosystem on Earth has seasons

From tropical forests to polar ice caps and abyssal depths, the annual journey of Earth around the Sun brings distinct seasons to all corners of the planet.

These seasonal rhythms shape ecosystems everywhere, whether through monsoonal rains in equatorial regions or the predictable melt of snowpack in mountain ranges.

But the seasonality of these processes is changing rapidly due to local human impacts. This includes dams in many rivers, which completely and abruptly disrupt their natural flow, and deforestation, which changes the timing of the onset of the rain season.

These local influences are compounded by climate change, which is systematically modifying seasonal patterns in snow cover, temperature and rainfall around the world.

From the earlier seasonal melting of glaciers and the snowpack to the disruption of monsoonal rain cycles, the effects of these changes are being felt widely.

Many important ecological processes we rely on could be affected. A mismatch between plankton blooms and the life cycles of fish could affect the health of fisheries. Tourism dependent on seasonal migrations of large mammals could suffer. Even the regulation of the climate system itself is tightly controlled by seasonal processes.

Changing seasonality threatens to destabilise key ecological processes and human society.

Evolutionary adaptations to seasonal fluctuations

The seasonal rhythms of ecosystems are obvious to any observer. The natural timing of annual flowers and deciduous trees – tuned to match seasonal variations in rainfall, temperature and solar radiation – transforms the colours of whole landscapes throughout the year.

The arrival and departure of migratory birds, the life cycle of insects and amphibians, and the mating rituals of large mammals can completely change the soundscapes with the seasons.

These examples illustrate how seasonality acts as a strong evolutionary force that has shaped the life cycles and behaviour of most species. But, in the face of unprecedented changes to Earth’s natural rhythms, these adaptations can lead to complex negative impacts.

For instance, snowshoe hares change coat colour between winter and summer to blend in with their surroundings and hide from predators. They are struggling to adapt to shifts in the timing of the first snow and snowmelt. The impact of changing seasonality on hare populations is linked with changes in predation rates. But predators themselves may also be out of sync with the new onset of seasons.

Our research highlights that these kinds of complex interactions can propagate impacts through ecosystems, linking individual species’ seasonal adaptations to broader food web dynamics, or even ecosystem functions such as carbon sequestration.

Although biologists have studied seasonal processes for centuries, we know surprisingly little about how they mediate any ecological impacts of altered seasonality. Our findings show we are likely underestimating these impacts.

The distinct mechanisms involved deserve further attention. Until we account for these complex processes, we risk overlooking important ecological and human consequences.

The more we understand, the better prepared we are

Understanding the extent to which impacts of altered seasonality can interact and propagate from individuals to whole ecosystems is a big challenge. It will require different types of research, complex mathematical modelling and the design of new experiments. But it is not easy to manipulate the seasons in an experiment.

Scientists have come up with inventive ways of experimentally testing the effects of altered seasonality. This includes manually removing snow early in spring, manipulating rainfall patterns through irrigation and moving plants and animals to places with different seasonality.

Some researchers have even recovered seeds from centuries-old collections to sprout them and look at how recent changes in climate have affected plant populations.

These efforts will be of great value for forecasting impacts and designing effective management strategies beneficial for ecosystems and humans alike. Such efforts help to anticipate future shocks and prioritise interventions.

For instance, understanding the mechanisms that allow native and non-native species to anticipate seasonal changes has proven useful for “tricking” non-native plants into sprouting only in the wrong season. This gives an advantage to native plants.

Similarly, studies on the molecular mechanisms involved in the response to seasonality can help us determine whether certain species are likely to adapt to further changes in seasonal patterns. This research can also point out genes that could be targeted for improving the resilience and productivity of crops.

Not only are we likely underestimating the ecological risks of shifting seasons, we tend to forget how much our everyday lives depend on them. As Earth’s rhythms change, the risks multiply. But so does our opportunity to better understand, anticipate and adapt to these changes.

Daniel Hernández Carrasco, PhD Candidate in Ecology, University of Canterbury and Jonathan Tonkin, Associate Professor of Ecology and Rutherford Discovery Fellow, University of Canterbury

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Rivers up and down the north coast of New South Wales have been hammered again, just three years after devastating floods hit the Northern Rivers and Hawkesbury-Nepean Valley.

The events of 2022 sparked our latest research into the estuaries of NSW. These special places, where the rivers meet the sea, are teeming with life. Now – for the first time – we can reveal what lives where, in maps based on tell-tale traces of DNA.

Together with Indigenous rangers from six language groups, we surveyed 34 estuaries to capture evidence of living species – everything from microbes to fish, plants and mammals.

We were surprised to find platypus in places they had not been seen for years. We also identified elusive native species such antechinus and rakali, and 68 invasive or pest species including cane toads – spreading further south than previously thought.

This catalogue of species in NSW estuaries can be used by authorities and scientists – but anyone, anywhere can explore the map online.

Estuaries are vital, yet many questions remain

First Nations Peoples have long recognised the vital importance of the areas where land meets sea. Estuaries are have provided food resources for thousand of years and are home to important historical and contemporary cultural sites.

Today, 87% of Australians live within 50km of the sea. This makes estuaries one of the most intensively used areas of NSW. They provide critical habitats such as seagrass or mangroves, host high biodiversity, and have a high social value as places for recreational activities such as fishing.

Yet research into the species that live in estuaries is mostly limited to large estuaries such as Sydney Harbour, Botany Bay or Port Stephens.

NSW has excellent water quality monitoring programs, and vital habitats such as seagrass meadows have been the subject of long-term mapping programs. However, large gaps remain.

Understanding how biodiversity in estuaries changes over time, especially in response to extreme events, can help governments design appropriate responses to maintain or restore ecosystem health. But with nearly 200 estuaries in NSW, studying changes in biodiversity is not a simple task.

Our DNA detective work

Measuring salinity or oxygen levels in water is relatively straightforward, using equipment on the shoreline or hanging off the side of a boat. Finding out what lives where is much more difficult. This where new genetic methods come in.

Life forms leave tell-tale traces of DNA in the environment. Animals may shed hair, skin or scales, as well as poo. Plants produce pollen and leaves that end up in the water.

We matched small snippets of DNA to find the species it belonged to – a bit like scanning a barcode in the supermarket.

This technique allows us to analyse the full extent of biodiversity in estuaries. This includes not just fish, but also species at the base of the food chain such as microscopic algae – all from a few litres of water.

Indigenous rangers live and work on Country and know it well. We formed alliances with six groups of Indigenous rangers through the state’s Cultural Restoration Program:

• Batemans Bay Local Aboriginal Land Council (Walbunja)
• Bega Local Aboriginal Land Council
• Jali Local Aboriginal Land Council
• Jerinja Local Aboriginal Land Council
• LaPeruse Local Aboriginal Land Council (Gamay)
• Yaegl Wadyarr Gargle Land and Sea Contractors.

Our research builds on the different strengths and interests of local groups. The rangers worked with us all the way through, from the design phase to selecting sampling sites of ecological or cultural significance, helping to conduct surveys and working with scientists to interpret the results.

Trained in environmental DNA methods, rangers can monitor their Country independently in future.

What did we find?

We now have the largest publicly available biodiversity dataset for NSW estuaries. It covers everything from single-celled algae at the base of the food chain, to top predators such as great white sharks and white-bellied sea eagles.

Anyone can explore the interactive map to find out what lives in the estuaries nearby or further afield.

Rangers detected platypus in the lower reaches of Bega River, in places where they were thought to have disappeared. Totemic species such as dolphins were widespread across the state, including urban estuaries such as Botany Bay in Sydney, while mullet and bream were found shifting between the mouth and further upriver. Cane toads were found at Sandon River in the Northern Rivers region, and most recently in Coffs Harbour, much further south than expected.

These results mean a lot to local Indigenous mobs. They can integrate contemporary scientific results into traditional ecological knowledge and use both approaches to better understand how estuaries respond to extreme weather events or activities such as habitat restoration.

We also recently returned to sample sites following Tropical Cyclone Alfred and the extreme rainfall events in March. Being able to compare the data to a well-established baseline survey means we will be able to see which species were worst affected.

Knowledge sharing for the future

Two-way knowledge sharing between Indigenous knowledge holders and research scientists is improving our understanding of estuarine health.

The results of this project will help Indigenous groups to care for their Country while also improving scientific knowledge to better respond to environmental impacts such as floods for decades to come.

The authors wish to acknowledge this program was delivered collaboration with and on behalf of the Departments of Primary Industries and Regional Development (DPIRD), Fisheries & Forestry, with funding provided by the Australian and NSW governments under Disaster Recovery Funding Arrangements as part of the NSW Estuary Asset Protection program (NEAP).

Maarten De Brauwer, Senior Research Scientist in Marine and Estuarine Ecology, Southern Cross University; Kaitlyn Harris, Research Assistant, NSW Estuary Monitoring Program, Southern Cross University, and Kelly Gittins, Aboriginal Project Officer, Fisheries, Department of Primary Industries, Indigenous Knowledge

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

For a small frog, the alpine tree frog (Litoria verreauxii alpina) packs a lot of surprises.

For one, this tree frog lives in snowy gullies and high mountain crags across the Australian Alps, far from the tropical areas we normally associate with tree frogs.

But these frogs have another surprise. Their numbers have been decimated by a deadly fungal disease, chytridiomycosis, which spreads in water, enters the frog’s skin, and kills by causing cardiac arrest. The chytrid fungus has wiped out almost all alpine tree frogs, whose numbers have fallen more than 80% since the 1980s. The species now occurs in only a few fragmented and highly isolated sites. Even here, the fungus kills almost all alpine tree frogs in their first breeding season.

Given these odds, it begs the question – how is the species not extinct? To find out, we used lab and field studies to investigate whether the threat of chytrid infection was forcing these frogs to change.

To our surprise, we found clear signs of change. When infected with the fungus, male frogs set about fathering more offspring.

The fungal threat

Before the emergence of the fungus, brisk spring nights across the Australian Alps would have been filled with the songs of male alpine tree frogs.

These choruses are long gone across most of the species’ range. The alpine tree frog is now critically endangered.

In the 1970s, frog species around the world began to die off en masse. But it wasn’t until 1998 that an Australian team figured out the cause wasn’t natural – it was an introduced fungus.

Wherever chytrid fungus has gone, it has laid waste to amphibians – especially frogs, where death rates can reach 100%. Worldwide, more than 500 amphibian species have been driven to decline and at least 90 species have been lost to extinction.

The fungus doesn’t like heat and needs water to spread. As a result, frogs in colder, wetter areas have been hardest hit. Seven Australian frog species have gone extinct due largely to the fungus, including remarkable gastric brooding frogs.

Some frogs have tried to fight this deadly disease by producing skin secretions called antimicrobial peptides, which reduce fungal growth. But not every frog’s skin secretions work against this disease.

Unfortunately, the invasive cane toad is strongly resistant to the fungus. More positively, one native species, Fleay’s barred frog, appears to have developed natural resistance to the fungus.

But for the alpine tree frog, chytrid fungus poses an existential threat.

Breeding at double speed

To find out how the species was still clinging on, we examined these frogs in the field and in laboratories. We tested sperm quality, analysed breeding patterns and looked at breeding success.

What we found suggests the species is adapting in real time, pushed by the huge selective pressure of the fungus.

When a male tree frog was infected, it set about breeding with new fervour. Infected males took part in almost a third (31%) more breeding events than uninfected frogs.

There were more changes, too. Infected males produced higher quality sperm and in greater volumes than healthy males. This meant their fertility was actually greater than those not carrying the fungus.

Not only that, but infected males produced more colourful mating displays in their throat patches. The more colourful the patch, the more attractive it could be to female frogs. Infection was making individual males more attractive as breeding partners.

These changes resulted in better breeding success for infected males – they fathered more tadpoles than uninfected frogs. The fungus doesn’t affect the eggs, and leaves tadpoles largely unharmed.

For the species, this had real benefits – it meant more and more tadpoles were being produced. While the fungus would kill most of them as adult frogs, their increased numbers bolstered the species.

Spawning before succumbing

These findings can seem counterintuitive. We might expect a sick animal would save its energy and try to fight the infection rather than try to reproduce. But these frogs are taking the opposite approach, spawning frantically before they succumb.

This strategy isn’t common in the animal kingdom, but it’s not unheard of. Tasmanian devils face a similar threat from a lethal cancer which spreads from animal to animal by biting. In areas where devil facial tumour disease is present, females reproduce earlier and have more babies with each pregnancy than in disease-free areas.

Like the devils, alpine tree frogs were choosing reproduction over their personal survival.

These adaptations had real use. In fact, we believe the changes have made it possible for the frog species to avoid extinction in the wild alongside the disease.

That’s not to say all is well. The species is only just holding on. If other threats emerge, it could be enough to tip it over the edge into extinction.

This is where human intervention can help. Now we know their accelerated breeding patterns are important, we can focus on protecting breeding habitat. Creating new breeding ponds and corridors between breeding sites could give these frogs a helping hand.

The deadly fungus isn’t going away. But the frogs aren’t either. If we lend our help alongside their ingenious survival strategies, perhaps the beautiful whistling songs of the alpine tree frog will ring out across the Australian Alps once again.

Laura Brannelly, Senior Lecturer in One Health and Biostatistics, The University of Melbourne; Alex Wendt, PhD candidate, The University of Melbourne, and Danielle Wallace, PhD candidate, The University of Melbourne

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Like us humans, many animals rely on social interactions to survive and thrive. As a result, effective communication between individuals is essential.

Highly social animals often have more complex communication systems. Think of a group of chimpanzees gesturing and vocalising at each other, or a family of elephants communicating through touch or low-frequency calls.

Bottlenose dolphins live in complex societies where each animal has a small number of closely connected individuals and a larger number of looser associates (not dissimilar to our own social networks). They rely heavily on interpersonal interactions to maintain a healthy social balance.

Scientists have long known that dolphins use “signature whistles” to identify themselves to others. In our recent study, we present evidence suggesting that these whistles may contain more information than just identity.

A unique but variable sound

Dolphins use various sounds, such as burst pulses and whistles, to communicate. There are two broad categories of whistles: signature whistles (distinctive whistle types that are unique to each individual) and non-signature (the rest).

Dolphins use the unique frequency patterns of their signature whistles to broadcast their identity. They develop these signals when they are young and maintain them throughout their lives.

When interacting with others, up to 30% of a dolphin’s whistling may be comprised of its signature whistle. There is often some variation in the whistle versions produced by the individual animals. This led us to analyse the balance between stability and variability of the signature whistles to test if they can contain more information than just the whistler’s identity.

Listening to whistles

In 2017 and 2018, our research team made repeated sound recordings of a group of Indo-Pacific bottlenose dolphins (Tursiops aduncus) at Tangalooma Island Resort near Moreton Island, off the coast of Brisbane in eastern Australia.

We collected many instances of signature whistles produced by the same animals. We also used historical data collected from the same group 15 years earlier.

We found that, while the whistles were exceptionally stable in their frequency patterns, they did vary a certain amount (this variability also remained similar across the years). This suggests that even though frequency patterns of signature whistles encode identity, they are also likely to transmit more information, such as emotional or contextual cues.

Our study group of animals was too small to draw definitive conclusions, but our findings indicated that males demonstrate more variability in their signature whistles than females. It could be linked to the differences in their social roles and the nature of their interactions with others.

We also identified a whistle much like a signature, but which was shared between several individuals. This supports recent findings that groups of dolphins may have shared distinctive whistles, along with their individual ones.

Faces that you hear

What does all this mean?

First, signature whistles are likely to be more versatile than previously thought. They may carry additional information within their frequency patterns, and possibly other structural elements.

The second lesson is that, while signature whistles are individually learned “labels” that are like human names in many ways, in terms of the information they transmit, a useful analogy may be human faces.

Humans carry identity information in our fixed facial features. At the same time, we transmit a lot of additional information, including emotional and contextual cues, through more transient facial expressions. Like signature whistles, our faces combine stability and variability in their “information package”.

Making the whole world blurry

Understanding dolphin communication helps us better understand the challenges these animals face in an increasingly human-affected world.

Take noise pollution in the oceans. It’s a hot topic among marine bioacoustics researchers, but rarely at the front of the general public’s mind.

If we do think of it, it’s probably in human terms. Living in a noisy environment for us might be annoying and stressful, but we could still do most of the things we need to do.

But for dolphins, deafening shipping noise would be the equivalent of the whole world going blurry for us. Imagine what it would be like to navigate through life, make friends, stay away from bad connections, and be socially effective (which is necessary for survival), if you can’t recognise anyone’s face or see their expressions.

Thinking of the dolphins’ key signal, a signature whistle, as informational equivalent of our faces, may help us see (and hear) the world from a dolphin’s perspective.

Ekaterina Ovsyanikova, Academic, School of the Environment, The University of Queensland

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Much to the surprise of Sydney-siders, a dusty haze settled over the city on Tuesday morning after a week of heavy rain.

Satellite images reveal the dust storm formed in the Mid-North region of South Australia, east of Spencer Gulf, at around 11am on Monday. It then travelled through western Victoria into New South Wales, reaching Sydney approximately 18 hours later.

It’s an odd time of year for a dust storm, but South Australia is in drought. The soil is very dry, bare and loose. So when a cold front with strong winds moved through SA earlier this week, it picked up lots of dust.

This demonstrates how everything is interconnected in Australia, despite the nation’s huge size. Extreme weather events such as drought in one part of the country can cause trouble for people “downwind”, hundreds of kilometres away. Climate change is likely to further raise the risk of dust storms in the future.

The dust bowl era

In the 1930s, prolonged drought in the United States coupled with poor land management practices caused devastating dust storms. This eroded valuable agricultural soils and forced many families off the land. All this took place across the Central Plains, which became known as the American Dust Bowl – later immortalised in Steinbeck’s book The Grapes of Wrath.

Australia experienced its own smaller dust bowl about a century after British settlers arrived. Overgrazing in the late 1800s removed native vegetation from large parts of western New South Wales. Dust storm activity picked up dramatically from the late 1800s onwards and hit a maximum in 1944-45 during the World War II drought.

Fortunately, the dust storms and drought experienced during the 1940s soon prompted a change in both policy and attitude. The focus of land management shifted from “taming the land” to more sustainable use, such as moving livestock around from time to time – allowing paddocks to rest and recover. The government also provided more financial support to manage drought.

Growing awareness and the desire to protect environmental assets also led to development of the NSW Soil Conservation Service.

Australia has continued to experience heightened dust activity and major dust storms after 1945. In 2009, Sydney awoke to what looked like apocalyptic scenes straight out of the movie Mad Max when a dust storm engulfed the city.

The last big dusty period was the Black Summer of 2019-20. Parts of NSW such as Wagga Wagga and Sydney were shrouded in smoke and dust for days. But there were significantly fewer “dust storm days” compared to 1944-45. This is partly due to improved land management practices that value sustainability, including the revegetation of denuded land.

More dust storms as the climate changes

Around the world, climate change is expected to make dust storms more common globally.

Recent research suggests southern Australia may experience longer and more frequent droughts in the future. Grazing and cropping will put extra pressure on the land.

In addition, the cold fronts that typically trigger large dust storms are expected to intensify with climate change. This means a growing chance of major dust storms such as the one this week.

Dust is a health hazard

Dust consists of tiny particles, some smaller than the width of a single strand of hair. These particles may include sand, topsoil, pollen, microbes, iron and other minerals, lifted into the air.

When these tiny particles enter the lungs, they can cause breathing difficulties and respiratory diseases such as asthma. Dust storms are also known to transport diseases such as Valley Fever.

The 2009 dust storm in Sydney led to an increase in emergency hospital admissions for respiratory illnesses, especially asthma.

During the latest dust storm, health authorities warned people with respiratory issues to stay indoors and monitor symptoms.

Developing early warning systems

The 2019-20 dusty period and the current SA drought shows Australia can still fall victim to these major dust storms. But there are things we can do to be better prepared and more resilient.

The United Nations Convention to Combat Desertification suggests better ways to reduce harm from dust. These include improving land management practices, implementing early warning systems and improving monitoring of dust events.

On the ground, NSW is well equipped to monitor dust through the DustWatch network. The air quality monitoring network acts as an early warning system, particularly for people in Sydney living downwind of sources interstate. But usually no more than 12-24 hours notice is provided. This means the authorities might might start to prepare to issue a warning when they detect poor air quality in Western NSW.

However, these systems pale in comparison to the predictive capacity available in South Korea and Japan. There, alerts of dust storms and poor air quality can be issued days in advance.

Using our eyes in the sky

My PhD research project involves using satellites to deepen our understanding of where dust storms are coming from and where they might travel to.

For instance the Himawari-8/9 satellite scans Australia every ten minutes, allowing us to track the evolution of dust events from start to finish.

We can pinpoint almost the exact moment a dust storm begins. These areas can then be targeted using satellites to understand the conditions of the land causing dust storms to form and monitor high-risk areas for erosion in the future.

Putting technology to good use will get us part of the way to a more resilient Australia. There is also a clear need to adapt to the changing climate in our nation’s grazing and cropping systems.

Tegan Clark, PhD Candidate, College of Systems and Society, Australian National University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

When a major cyclone tears through an island nation, all efforts rightly focus on saving human lives and restoring livelihoods. However, these storms have permanent consequences for other species that are often forgotten.

As the world continues to heat, cyclones are expected to become more frequent, intense and unpredictable. The International Union of Conservation of Nature (IUCN), the global authority on biodiversity, lists storms as one factor threatening species. But just how much of a threat is still poorly understood.

The effects of cyclones on biodiversity are easily neglected because the damage is sudden, scattered and hard to measure. Extinctions can be abrupt and go unnoticed. This largely overlooked extinction crisis is likely to worsen with climate change.

In a new study, we measured the threat posed by tropical cyclones on the diversity of land-based mammals, birds, amphibians and reptiles globally. We mapped all severe tropical cyclones that occurred between 1972 and 2022 and checked how many overlapped with areas widely recognised to be exceptionally rich in species, otherwise known as biodiversity hotspots.

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We focused on severe cyclones only – those with wind speeds exceeding 130 mph – as historically, it is these that have caused species to severely decline or go extinct.

What we found surprised us: three-quarters of all severe cyclones struck hotspots which are entirely comprised of islands. This seemed alarming. Islands have an inherently high extinction risk anyway because they support many species that are found nowhere else and which evolved in isolation. These species often have very small populations and nowhere to escape when disaster strikes.

Even more worrying, more than 95% of the severe cyclones that struck island biodiversity hotspots hit the same five ones. In descending order of cyclone frequency these are: Japan, Polynesia-Micronesia, the Philippines, Madagascar and the Indian Ocean islands, and the Caribbean islands.

We clearly identified high-risk areas, but what does this mean for the animal species that live there? To find out we consulted the red list of threatened species which is compiled and regularly updated by the IUCN to see how many vertebrate species were noted for their vulnerability to storms.

One cyclone away from extinction

The hotspots experiencing the most severe cyclones are not necessarily those that have the most storm-threatened species. For example, Japan has the most storms but the fewest species at risk, whereas the Caribbean has fewer storms but over 128 species are threatened by them. This suggests that the frequency of cyclones alone does not determine the danger to each region’s biodiversity.

Other aspects are likely to play a role. In particular, the data indicates that species in island biodiversity hotspots made up of a lot of small islands are more at risk of local or global extinction.

The more we learned about the dangers posed by cyclones, the more concerned we became. Many species are so restricted in range that they could be entirely wiped out by just one cyclone. It has happened before. The Bahama nuthatch (Sitta insularis), a small forest-dwelling songbird, is thought to have gone extinct following the passage of Hurricane Dorian in 2019.

Preparing for the unpredictable

To begin raising awareness and help conservationists prioritise their efforts, we compiled a watchlist of the species that are most at risk from tropical cyclones. This includes 60 storm-threatened species which are present only on a single location on a single island.

For each of these 60 species, the next severe tropical cyclone may be their last. A better understanding of the distribution and status of these species is only the beginning. Conservationists need to plan how to help them avoid a sudden demise.

The need to act quickly is clear. Of the 60 species on our list, only 24 are part of any active conservation effort and just six are in captive breeding programmes. Coordinated efforts are our best bet and we propose a task force under the IUCN to allow better preparation, rapid response and international support.

With the right knowledge and foresight, we can ensure human recovery and ecological survival for future generations.

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Simon Valle, Conservation Planning Officer at IUCN SSC Conservation Planning Specialist Group & Honorary Lecturer in Conservation Science, Bangor University and David Jorge Pereira, PhD Candidate, Conservation Science, University of Birmingham

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Anti-environmentalism is gaining ground. Attacks on the net zero goal and hostility to conservation measures and anti-pollution targets are becoming more common. And, as recent election results have shown, these tactics are reshaping politics in Britain and across the west.

Anti-environmentalism is a rejection of both environmental initiatives and activism. But despite its sudden rise and bold rhetoric, it is built on shaky foundations. The messages it offers are often contradictory and row against the tide of everyday experience.

Take the US president, Donald Trump. He dismantled many environmental protections in his last term of office, and is now removing those that are left – including support for research that even mentions the word climate. Yet he told a rally in Wisconsin in 2024: “I’m an environmentalist. I want clean air and clean water. Really clean water. Really clean air.”

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Some of the contradictions of anti-environmentalism reflect its departure from traditional conservatism. Although routinely identified as “conservative”, the populist anti-green politics of Republicans in the US and Reform in the UK, along with the AfD in Germany and National Rally in France, represent a radical challenge to the ideals of continuity and conservation that were once at the heart of conservatism.

The Conservative Environment Network is an organisation which pitches itself as an “independent forum for conservatives in the UK and around the world who support net zero, nature restoration and resource security”. Much of this network’s work involves reminding people that important environmental protections, from America’s national parks to controls on pollution and climate change in Britain and elsewhere, were introduced by conservatives.

But few on the right appear to be listening. A populist tide is washing this conservative tradition away, despite the fact that support for environmental protection remains very popular.

Polling indicates that 80% of people in the UK worry about climate change. Public backing for the work of the US Environmental Protection Agency is also overwhelming, including among Republican voters.

In part, this support reflects the fact that environmental damage is an everyday reality: unpredictable weather, the collapse of animal and insect populations, and a range of other challenges are not just on the TV, they are outside the window.

In my research for a forthcoming book on environmental nostalgia across the world, I keep bumping into an irony. In western nations, voices from the right say they want their country back, yet appear hostile to environmental policies that would protect their country and ensure its survival.

There are many reasons for this disconnect, including resentment against initiatives that require lifestyle and livelihood changes. However, the enmity and disengagement is more complicated than a simple rejection of nature.

Many people – including Trump himself – claim they are environmentalists even when the evidence suggests otherwise. The signs and symbols of environmental care are knitted into every aspect of our commercial and cultural life: if wildlife could sue for copyright, there would a lot of rich bears.

I argue that a distinction can be made between what I call “cold” and “hot” forms of environmentalism. The former values and mourns the loss of nature, but as a spectacle to be observed – a set of appealing images of flora and fauna – while the latter feels implicated and anxious.

The former position allows people to claim they love nature yet be indifferent or even hostile to initiatives to save it. However, the line between cold and hot, or between anti- and pro-environmentalist, is neither fixed nor hard.

Another quality of anti-environmentalism is that its beliefs are changeable, even quixotic. Climate change is an example.

Reform’s leaders have long flirted with climate change denial. “Climate change has happened for millions of years,” explained former Reform UK leader Richard Tice in 2024, adding that “the idea that you can stop the power of the Sun or volcanoes is simply ludicrous”. Tice has not changed his views but later the same year, the party’s new leader, Nigel Farage, told the BBC that he was “not arguing the science”.

Like other populist parties, Reform adopts a mobile position on the environment, moving between denying that climate change is happening or that humans are causing it, and the very different contention that anthropogenic climate change is real but that environmental targets are unreachable and unfair, given that other nations (China is often mentioned) supposedly do so little.

A post-western paradox

Researchers are only just starting to think about anti-environmentalism. One key analysis is environmental politics researcher John Hultgren’s The Smoke and the Spoils: Anti-Environmentalism and Class Struggle in the United States. This new book explains how Republicans managed to convince working-class voters that there is “zero-sum dichotomy between jobs and environmental protection, workers and environmentalists”.

This kind of binary has also been found by contributors to The Handbook of Anti-Environmentalism, who identify and critique the stereotyping of environmentalism as middle-class and elite in several western countries.

Yet the geographical focus of these pioneering works misses yet another of the paradoxes of anti-environmentalism: that although its rhetoric often accuses China and other non-western countries of doing little, there has been a significant environmental turn in both policy and public attitudes beyond Europe and the US.

Environmentalism is becoming post-western. This is partly because the realities of environmental damage are so stark across much of Asia and Africa.

Extreme temperatures and unpredictable rainfall are leading to food insecurity and community displacement. Environmentalism in the African Sahel and south Asia might better be called “survivalism”.

And despite its continuing reliance on fossil fuels, China’s state-led vision of a transition to a conservationist and decarbonised “ecological civilisation” is positioning it as a global environmental leader.

Stereotypes of environmentalism being primarily a western concern are crumbling. Because of this, along with the many contradictions that beset it, the rise of anti-environmentalism appears not only complex, but curious and unsustainable.

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Alastair Bonnett, Professor of Geography, Newcastle University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.