Australia’s climate and energy wars are at the forefront of the federal election campaign as the major parties outline vastly different plans to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and tackle soaring power prices.

Meanwhile, misinformation about climate change has permeated public debate during the campaign, feeding false and misleading claims about renewable energy, gas and global warming.

This is a dangerous situation. In Australia and globally, rampant misinformation has for decades slowed climate action – creating doubt, hindering decision-making and undermining public support for solutions.

Here, we explain the history of climate misinformation in Australia and identify three prominent campaigns operating now. We also outline how Australians can protect themselves from misinformation as they head to the polls.

Misinformation vs disinformation

Misinformation is defined as false information spread unintentionally. It is distinct from disinformation, which is deliberately created to mislead.

However, proving intent to mislead can be challenging. So, the term misinformation is often used as a general term to describe misleading content, while the term disinformation is reserved for cases where intent is proven.

Disinformation is typically part of a coordinated campaign to influence public opinion. Such campaigns can be run by corporate interests, political groups, lobbying organisations or individuals.

Once released, these false narratives may be picked up by others, who pass them on and create misinformation.

Climate change misinformation in Australia

In the 1980s and 1990s, Australia’s emissions-reduction targets were among the most ambitious in the world.

At the time, about 60 companies were responsible for one-third of Australia’s greenhouse gas emissions. The government’s plan included measures to ensure these companies remained competitive while reducing their climate impact.

Despite this, Australia’s resource industry began a concerted media campaign to oppose any binding emissions-reduction actions, claiming it would ruin the economy by making Australian businesses uncompetitive.

This narrative persisted even when modelling repeatedly showed climate policies would have minimal economic impacts. The industry arguments eventually found their way into government policy.

Momentum against climate action was also fuelled by a vocal group of climate change-denying individuals and organisations, often backed by multinational fossil fuel companies. These deniers variously claimed climate change wasn’t happening, it was caused by natural cycles, or wasn’t that a serious threat.

These narratives were further exacerbated by false balance in media coverage, whereby news outlets, in an effort to appear neutral, often placed climate scientists alongside contrarians, giving the impression that the science was still unclear.

Together, this created an environment in Australia where climate action was seen as either too economically damaging or simply unnecessary.

What’s happening in the federal election campaign?

Climate misinformation has been circulating in the following forms during this federal election campaign.

1. Trumpet of Patriots

Clive Palmer’s Trumpet of Patriots party ran an advertisement that claimed to expose “ the truth about climate change”. It featured a clip from a 2004 documentary, in which a scientist discusses data suggesting temperatures in Greenland were not rising. The scientist in the clip has since said his comments are now outdated.

The type of misinformation is cherry-picking – presenting one scientific measurement at odds with the overwhelming scientific consensus.

Google removed the ad after it was flagged as misleading, but only after it received 1.9 million views.

2. Responsible Future Illawarra

The Responsible Future campaign opposes wind turbines on various grounds, including cost, foreign ownership, power prices, effects on views and fishing, and potential ecological damage.

Scientific evidence indicates offshore wind farms are relatively safe for marine life and cause less harm than boats and fishing gear. Some studies also suggest the infrastructure can create new habitat for marine life.

However, a general lack of research into offshore wind and marine life has created uncertainty that groups such as Responsible Future Illawarra can exploit.

It has cited statements by Sea Shepherd Australia to argue offshore wind farms damage marine life – however Sea Shepherd said its comments were misrepresented.

3. Australians for Natural Gas

Australians for Natural Gas is a pro-gas group set up by the head of a gas company, which presents itself as a grassroots organisation. Its advertising campaign promotes natural gas as a necessary part of Australia’s fuel mix, and stresses its contribution to jobs and the economy.

The ad campaign implicitly suggests climate action – in this case, a shift to renewable energy – is harmful to the economy, livelihoods and energy security. According to Meta’s Ad Library, these adds have already been seen more than 1.1 million times.

Gas is needed in Australia’s current energy mix. But analysis shows it could be phased out almost entirely if renewable energy and storage was sufficiently increased and business and home electrification continues to rise.

And of course, failing to tackle climate change will cause substantial harm across Australia’s economy.

How to identify misinformation

As the federal election approaches, climate misinformation and disinformation is likely to proliferate further. So how do we distinguish fact from fiction?

One way is through “pre-bunking” – familiarising yourself with common claims made by climate change deniers to fortify yourself against misinformation

Sources such as Skeptical Science offer in-depth analyses of specific claims.

The SIFT method is another valuable tool. It comprises four steps:

• Stop
• Investigate the source
• Find better coverage
• Trace claims, quotes and media to their original sources.

As the threat of climate change grows, a flow of accurate information is vital to garnering public and political support for vital policy change.

Correction: A previous version of this article said Responsible Illawarra had cited a purported research paper which does not exist. In fact, the group accused of sharing the paper is known as No Offshore Wind Farm for the Illawarra. The error was introduced in production.

Alfie Chadwick, PhD Candidate, Monash Climate Change Communication Research Hub, Monash University and Libby Lester, Professor (Research) and Director, Monash Climate Change Communication Hub, Monash University

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

Australia just sweltered through one of its hottest summers on record, and heat has pushed well into autumn. Once-in-a-generation floods are now striking with alarming regularity. As disasters escalate, insurers are warning some properties may soon be uninsurable. Yet, despite these escalating disasters — and a federal election looming — conversation around climate change remains deeply polarising.

But are people’s minds really made up? Or are they still open to change?

In research out today, we asked more than 5,000 Australians a simple question: what would change your mind about climate change? Their answers reveal both a warning and an opportunity.

On climate, Australians fall into six groups

Almost two thirds (64%) of Australians are concerned about the impact of climate change, according to a recent survey.

But drill deeper, and we quickly find Australians hold quite different views on climate. In fact, research in 2022 showed Australians can be sorted into six distinct groups based on how concerned and engaged they are with the issue.

At one end was the Alarmed group – highly concerned people who are convinced of the science, and already taking action (25% of Australians). At the other end was the Dismissive group (7%) – strongly sceptical people who often view climate change as exaggerated or even a hoax. In between were the Concerned, Cautious, Disengaged and Doubtful – groups who varied in belief, awareness and willingness to engage.

In our nationally representative survey, we asked every participant what might change their opinion about climate change? We then looked at how the answers differed between the six groups.

For those already convinced climate change is real and human-caused, we wanted to know what might make them doubt it. For sceptical participants, we wanted to know what might persuade them otherwise. In short, we weren’t testing who was “right” or “wrong” – we were mapping how flexible their opinions were.

Our views aren’t set in stone

People at both extremes – Alarmed and Dismissive – were the most likely to say “nothing” would change their minds. Nearly half the Dismissive respondents flat-out rejected the premise. But these two groups together make up just one in three Australians.

What about everyone in the middle ground? The rest – the Concerned (28%), Cautious (23%), Disengaged (3%) and Doubtful (14%) – showed much more openness. They matter most, because they’re the majority — and they’re still listening.

What information would change minds?

What would it take for people to be convinced? We identified four major themes: evidence and information, trusted sources, action being undertaken, and nothing.

The most common response was a desire for better evidence and information. But not just any facts would do. Participants said they wanted clear, plain-English explanations rather than jargon. They wanted statistics they could trust, and science that didn’t feel politicised or agenda-driven. Some said they’d be more convinced if they saw the impacts with their own eyes.

Crucially, many in the Doubtful and Cautious groups didn’t outright reject climate change – they just didn’t feel confident enough to judge the evidence.

The trust gap

Many respondents didn’t know who to believe on climate change. Scientists and independent experts were the most commonly mentioned trusted sources – but trust in these sources wasn’t universal.

Some Australians, especially in the more sceptical segments, expressed deep distrust toward the media, governments and the scientific community. Others said they’d be more receptive if information came from unbiased or apolitical sources. For some respondents, family, friends and everyday people were seen as more credible than institutions.

In an age of widespread misinformation, this matters. If we want to build support for climate action, we need the right messengers as much as the right message.

What about action?

Many respondents said their views could shift if they saw real, meaningful action – especially from governments and big business. Some wanted proof that Australia is taking climate change seriously. Others said action would offer hope or reduce their anxiety.

Even some sceptical respondents said coordinated, global action might persuade them – though they were often cynical about Australia’s impact compared to larger emitters. Others called for a more respectful, depoliticised conversation around climate.

In other words, for many Australians, it’s not just what evidence and information is presented about climate change. It’s also how it’s said, who says it, and why it’s being said.

Of course, the responses we gathered reflect what people say would change their minds. That’s not necessarily what would actually change their minds.

Why does this matter?

As climate change intensifies, so does misinformation — especially online, where artificial intelligence and social media accelerate its spread.

Misinformation has a corrosive effect. Spreading doubt, lies and uncertainty can erode public support for climate action.

If we don’t understand what Australians actually need to hear about climate change – and who they need to hear it from – we risk losing ground to confusion and doubt.

After years of growth from 2012 to 2019, Australian backing for climate action is fluctuating and even dropping, according to Lowy Institute polling.

Climate change may not be the headline issue in this federal election campaign. But it’s on the ballot nonetheless, embedded in debates over how to power Australia, jobs and the cost of living. If we want public support for meaningful climate action, we can’t just shout louder. We have to speak smarter.

Kelly Kirkland, Research Fellow in Psychology, The University of Queensland; Abby Robinson, PhD candidate in Social Psychology, The University of Melbourne; Amy S G Lee, PhD Candidate in Social Psychology, The University of Melbourne; Samantha Stanley, Research Fellow in Social Psychology, UNSW Sydney, and Zoe Leviston, Research Fellow in Social Psychology, Australian National University

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

Snipers in helicopters have shot more than 700 koalas in the Budj Bim National Park in western Victoria in recent weeks. It’s believed to be the first time koalas have been culled in this way.

The cull became public on Good Friday after local wildlife carers were reportedly tipped off.

A fire burned about 20% of the park in mid-March. The government said the cull was urgent because koalas had been left starving or burned.

Wildlife groups have expressed serious concern about how individual koalas had been chosen for culling, because the animals are assessed from a distance. It’s not clear how shooting from a helicopter complies with the state government’s own animal welfare and response plans for wildlife in disasters.

The Victorian government must explain why it is undertaking aerial culling and why it did so without announcing it publicly. The incident points to ongoing failures in managing these iconic marsupials, which are already threatened in other states.

Why did this happen?

Koalas live in eucalypt forests in Australia’s eastern and southern states. The species faces a double threat from habitat destruction and bushfire risk. They are considered endangered in New South Wales, Queensland and the Australian Capital Territory.

In Victoria, koala population levels are currently secure. But they are densely concentrated, often in fragments of bush known as “habitat islands” in the state’s southwest. Budj Bim National Park is one of these islands.

Over time, this concentration becomes a problem. When the koalas are too abundant, they can strip leaves from their favourite gums, killing the trees. The koalas must then move or risk starvation.

If fire or drought make these habitat islands impossible to live in, koalas in dense concentrations often have nowhere to go.

In Budj Bim, Victoria’s Department of Energy, Environment and Climate Action and Parks Victoria have tackled koala overpopulation alongside Traditional Owners by moving koalas to new locations or sterilising them.

But Budj Bim is also surrounded by commercial blue gum plantations. Koalas spread out through the plantations to graze on the leaves. Their populations grow. But when the plantations are logged, some koalas have to return to the national park, where food may be in short supply.

Animal welfare groups say logging is one reason Budj Bim had so many koalas.

It’s hard to say definitively whether this is the case, because the state environment department hasn’t shared much information. But researchers have found habitat islands lead to overabundance by preventing the natural dispersal of individuals.

So why was the culling done? Department officials have described the program as “primarily” motivated by animal welfare. After the bushfire last month, koalas have been left starving or injured.

Why shooters in helicopters? Here, the justification given is that the national park is difficult to access due to rocky terrain and fire damage, ruling out other methods.

Euthanising wildlife has to be done carefully

Under Victoria’s plan for animal welfare during disasters, the environment department is responsible for examining and, where necessary, euthanising wildlife during an emergency.

For human intervention to be justified, euthanasia must be necessary on welfare grounds. Victoria’s response plan for fire-affected wildlife says culling is permitted when an animal’s health is “significantly” compromised, invasive treatment is required, or survival is unlikely.

For koalas, this could mean loss of digits or hands, burns to more than 15% of the body, pneumonia from smoke inhalation, or blindness or injuries requiring surgery. Euthanised females must also be promptly examined for young in their pouches.

The problem is that while aerial shooting can be accurate in some cases for larger animals, the method has questionable efficacy for smaller animals – especially in denser habitats.

It’s likely a number of koalas were seriously injured but not killed. But the shooters employed by the department were not able to thoroughly verify injuries or whether there were joeys in pouches, because they were in the air and reportedly 30 or more metres away from their targets.

While the department cited concerns about food resources as a reason for the cull, the state’s wildlife fire plan lays out another option: delivery of supplementary feed. Delivering fresh gum leaves could potentially have prevented starvation while the forest regenerates.

What should the government learn from this?

The state government should take steps to avoid tragic incidents like this from happening again.

Preserving remaining habitat across the state is a vital step, as is reconnecting isolated areas with habitat corridors. This would not only reduce the concentration of koalas in small pockets but increase viable refuges and give koalas safe paths to new food sources after a fire.

Future policies should be developed in consultation with Traditional Owners, who have detailed knowledge of species distributions and landscapes.

We need better ways to help wildlife in disasters. One step would be bringing wildlife rescue organisations into emergency management more broadly, as emphasised in the 2009 Victorian Bushfires Royal Commission and the more recent Royal Commission into National Natural Disaster Arrangements.

This latter report pointed to South Australia’s specialised emergency animal rescue and relief organisation – SAVEM – as an effective model. Under SA’s emergency management plan, the organisation is able to rapidly access burned areas after the fire has passed through.

Victoria’s dense communities of koalas would be well served by a similar organisation able to work alongside existing skilled firefighting services.

The goal would be to make it possible for rescuers to get to injured wildlife earlier and avoid any more mass aerial culls.

Liz Hicks, Lecturer in Law, The University of Melbourne and Ashleigh Best, Barrister, Victorian Bar and Honorary Fellow, Melbourne Law School, The University of Melbourne

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

There are an estimated 1 billion domesticated dogs in the world. Most are owned animals – pets, companions or working animals who share their lives with humans. They are the most common large predator in the world. Pet cats trail far behind, at about 220 million.

We are all too aware of the negative effects of cats, both owned and feral, on wildlife. Feral dogs too are frequently seen as threats to biodiversity, although dingoes can have a positive role. By contrast, our pet dogs often seem to get a free pass.

This is, unfortunately, based more on feelings than data. Our beloved pet dogs have a far greater, more insidious and more concerning effect on wildlife and the environment than we would like to be the case.

In our new research, we lay out the damage pet dogs do and what can be done about it.

Dogs are predators. They catch many types of wildlife and can injure or kill them. Their scent and droppings scare smaller animals. Then there’s the huge environmental cost of feeding these carnivores and the sheer quantity of their poo.

We love our pet dogs, but they come with a very real cost. We have to recognise this and take steps to protect wildlife by leashing or restraining our animals.

The predator in your home

Dogs are domesticated wolves, bred to be smaller, more docile and extremely responsive to humans. But they are still predators.

Pet dogs are responsible for more reported attacks on wildlife than are cats, according to data from wildlife care centres, and catch larger animals.

Pet dogs off the leash are the main reason colonies of little penguins are nearing collapse in Tasmania.

In New Zealand, a single escaped pet dog is estimated to have killed up to 500 brown kiwis out of a total population of 900 over a five-week period.

Once off the leash, dogs love to chase animals and birds. This may seem harmless. But being chased can exhaust tired migratory birds, forcing them to use more energy. Dogs can kill fledglings of beach-nesting birds, including endangered birds such as the hooded plover.

The mere presence of these predators terrifies many animals and birds. Even when they’re on the leash, local wildlife are on high alert. This has measurable negative effects on bird abundance and diversity across woodland sites in eastern Australia.

In the United States, deer are more alert and run sooner and farther if they see a human with a leashed dog than a human alone.

Several mammal species in the United States perceived dogs with a human as a bigger threat than coyotes.

Dogs don’t even have to be present to be bad for wildlife. They scent-mark trees and posts with their urine and leave their faeces in many places. These act as warnings to many other species. Researchers in the US found animals such as deer, foxes and even bobcats avoided areas dogs had been regularly walked compared to dog exclusion zones, due to the traces they left.

Keeping dogs healthy and fed has a cost

The medications we use to rid our pet dogs of fleas or ticks can last weeks on fur, and wash off when they plunge into a creek or river. But some of these medications have ingredients highly toxic to aquatic invertebrates, meaning a quick dip can be devastating.

Researchers have found when birds such as blue tits and great tits collect brushed-out dog fur to line their nests, it can lead to fewer eggs hatching and more dead hatchlings.

Then there’s the poo. In the US, there are about 90 million pet dogs, while the UK has 12 million and Australia has 6 million.

The average dog deposits 200 grams of faeces and 400 millilitres of urine a day. This translates to a tonne of faeces and 2,000 litres of urine over a 13 year lifespan. Scaled up, that’s a mountain of waste.

This waste stream can add to nitrogen pollution in waterways, alter soil chemistry and even spread diseases to humans and other wildlife. More than 80% of the pathogens infecting domesticated animals also infect wildlife.

Dogs largely eat meat, meaning millions of cows and chickens are raised just to feed our pets. Feeding the world’s dogs leads to about the same emissions as the Philippines and a land use “pawprint” twice the size of the UK.

No one likes thinking about this

People love their dogs. They’re always happy to see us. Their companionship makes us healthier, body and mind. Many farms couldn’t run without working dogs. We don’t want to acknowledge they can also cause harm.

Dogs, of course, are not bad. They’re animals, with natural instincts as well as the domesticated instinct to please us. But their sheer numbers mean they do real damage.

Many of us have a large dog-shaped blind spot. Little Brutus wouldn’t have done something like that, we think. But Brutus can and does.

Choosing to own a dog comes with responsibilities. Being a good dog owner means caring not just for the animal we love, but the rest of the natural world.

Bill Bateman, Associate Professor, Behavioural Ecology, Curtin University and Lauren Gilson, Research Associate, Behavioural Ecology, Curtin University

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

When we think of bird songs, we often imagine a cheerful soundtrack during our morning walks. However, for birds, songs are much more than background music – they are crucial to attract a mate and defend a territory.

But what if a song could reveal something deeper about the singer’s personality? A new study, published today in Royal Society Open Science by my colleagues and me, shows it might.

Addressing a research gap

For many bird species, songs vary in complexity, with some individuals producing more intricate melodies than others. Such differences often indicate individual variation in genetic quality, age, or health. Yet most research to date has focused on males, and very few studies have investigated how song complexity relates to personality in birds.

The new study addresses this research gap.

My colleagues and I studied wild superb fairy-wrens (Malurus cyaneus), a small Australian songbird known for its bright plumage and complex vocal skills. Interestingly, in this species, both males and females learn to sing complex songs. This makes them a good example to study the relationship between song complexity and personality in both males and females.

We captured wild superb fairy-wrens and brought them into short-term captivity to assess their personality. Specifically, we measured their exploration by placing them in a novel environment, where we observed where they went and how much they explored the environment.

We also tested their aggressiveness by using a mirror, as birds often see their reflection as a rival and respond accordingly.

We then released the birds and recorded their songs for several months to assess song complexity (that is, element types per song and syllables per song). Elements are the basic building blocks in bird songs (a little like letters in a word) and element types are categories of elements.

Aggressive versus exploratory

We found that, regardless of sex or life stage, birds that were more exploratory had more element types per song than those that were less exploratory. Also, more aggressive birds produced songs with fewer syllables than those that were less aggressive. You can hear this in the recordings below.

We also found that more aggressive fledglings, but not adults, had more element types per song.

Our study demonstrates that both males and females can advertise their personality through their songs. It also raises questions as to whom birds learn their songs from.

In superb fairy-wrens, male and female juveniles learn from both parents as well as from other members of their species. It is possible that rather than learning from any available adults, birds may selectively copy song elements from specific individuals based on their own personality.

In superb fairy-wrens, more exploratory birds may approach and learn from a wider range of tutors than less exploratory ones who may limit themselves to more familiar tutors.

Additionally, our study highlights that the relationship between personality and song complexity could be shifting between different life stages. More aggressive young may experiment with a greater diversity of element types to prepare for the establishment of their own territory in their first year of life, leading to increasing song complexity.

In contrast, adults have already settled in their territories and may not need to experiment as much.

Insights into how personality traits evolve

Our study illustrates that learned aspects of sexual signalling are personality dependent, and that this may have some potential implications for survival or reproduction.

This opens up exciting new questions about how vocal communication reflects individual differences — not just in males, but in females too.

Understanding these links can give us deeper insights into how personality traits evolve and how they influence social interactions in the wild.

Diane Colombelli-Négrel, Senior Lecturer, Animal Behaviour, Flinders University

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

President Donald Trump has issued an executive order that would block state laws seeking to tackle greenhouse gas emissions – the latest salvo in his administration’s campaign to roll back United States’ climate action.

Under Trump, the US has clearly abdicated climate leadership. But the US has in fact obstructed climate action for decades – largely due to damaging actions by the powerful fossil fuel industry.

In 20 years studying attacks on climate science and the powerful forces at work behind the scenes, I’ve come to think the United States is simply not going to lead on climate action. The fossil fuel industry has so poisoned the well of public debate in the US that it’s unlikely the nation will lead on the issue in our lifetimes.

Australia, on the other hand, has enormous potential.

I recently visited Australia from Harvard University for a series of public talks. This nation is very close to my heart. I trained as a mining geologist and spent three years in outback South Australia, before returning to academia.

The vacuum Trump has created on climate policy provides a chance for other countries to lead. Australia has much more to gain from the clean-energy future than it stands to lose – and your climate action could be pivotal.

The climate crisis: a long time coming

Scientists first warned against burning fossil fuels way back in the 1950s. When the US Clean Air Act was passed in 1970, the words “weather” and “climate” were included because scientists had already explained to Congress that carbon dioxide was a pollutant with serious — even dire — effects.

In the late 1980s, scientists at NASA observed changes in the climate system that could only be explained by the extra heating effect of atmospheric carbon dioxide. The predictions had become reality.

When George H.W. Bush ran successfully for president in 1988, he promised to use the power of the “White House effect” to fight the “greenhouse effect”. In 1992, Bush and other world leaders gathered in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, to sign the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change. Together, 178 countries promised action to prevent “dangerous anthropogenic interference” with Earth’s climate. But that action never came.

Trump has undoubtedly been bad news for global climate action. He makes preposterous claims about science and is dismantling the federal agencies responsible for supporting climate science and maintaining climate data.

But the US has long failed to play its part in cutting dangerous greenhouse gas emissions. The reason for this lies largely outside the White House.

A long-running campaign of disinformation

The fossil fuel industry has known about climate change for as long as scientists have.

In the late 1970s and early 1980s, scientists at Esso (later ExxonMobil) actively researched the topic, building climate models and coauthoring scientific papers.

The scientists informed their managers of the risk of catastrophic damage if the burning of oil, gas and coal continued unabated. They even suggested the company might need a different business model – one not so dependent on fossil fuels.

But managers at ExxonMobil made a fateful decision: to turn from information to disinformation. Working in tandem with other oil, gas and coal companies, as well as automobile and aluminium manufacturers, ExxonMobil launched an organised campaign, sustained over decades, to block climate action by casting doubt on the underlying science.

They ran ad campaigns in national and local newspapers insisting the science was too unsettled to warrant action. They created “astroturf” organisations that only pretended to be green, and funded “third-party allies” to argue that proposed remedies would be too expensive, cost jobs and damage the economy.

The company funded outlier scientists to publish papers claiming atmospheric warming was the result of natural climate variability. They pressured journalists to give equal time to “their side” of the story in the name of “balance”.

Over the next three decades, whenever any meaningful climate policy seemed to be gaining traction, the industry and its allies lobbied Congress and state legislatures to block it. So, neither Democratic nor Republican administrations were able to undertake meaningful climate action.

While people were dying in climate-charged floods and fires, the fossil fuel industry persuaded a significant proportion of the US population, including Trump, that the whole thing might just be a hoax.

Rise up Australia

In a matter of weeks after becoming president, Trump pulled out of the Paris Agreement to limit global warming, shut down government websites hosting climate data, and withdrew support for research that dares to mention the word “climate”.

This has created a vacuum that other countries, including Australia, can step up to fill.

Few countries have more to lose from climate change than Australia. The continent has already witnessed costly and devastating wildfires and floods — affecting remote areas and major cities. It’s not unreasonable to worry that in coming years, significant parts of Australia could become uninhabitable.

Like the US, Australia has a powerful fossil fuel industry that has disproportionately influenced its politics. Unlike the US, however, that industry is based mainly on coal for export, which Australians do not depend on in their daily lives.

And Australia is truly a lucky country. It has unsurpassed potential to replace fossil fuels with renewable energy.

More than 15 years ago, Australian researchers in the Zero Carbon Australia project offered a blueprint for how the country could eliminate fossil fuel use entirely. Since then, renewable energy has only become cheaper and more efficient.

South Australia has proved the point: the state was 100% reliant on fossil fuels for electricity in 2002, but now more than 70% comes from renewables.

Across Australia, the share of renewable electricity generation is growing. Victoria, New South Wales and Queensland are vying for second place after SA. It’s fascinating to watch the National Electricity Market balance supply and demand in real time, where a large proportion of the electricity comes from rooftop solar.

For decades, the fossil fuel industry has told the public our societies can’t manage without fossil fuels. Large parts of Australia have proved it’s just not so. The rest of the nation can follow that lead, and model the energy transition for the world. Here’s your chance.

Naomi Oreskes, Professor of the History of Science, Harvard University

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

Queensland is widely known as the land clearing capital of Australia. But what’s not so well known is many of the cleared trees can grow back naturally.

The latest state government figures show regrowth across more than 7.6 million hectares in Queensland in 2020-21. These trees, though young, still provide valuable habitat for many threatened species – as long as they’re not bulldozed again.

Our new research explored the benefits of regrowth for 30 threatened animal species in Queensland. We found regrown forests and woodlands provided valuable habitat and food for species after an average of 15 years. Some species were likely to benefit from trees as young as three years.

This presents an opportunity for governments to support landowners and encourage them to retain more regrowing forest and woodland, especially where it can provide much-needed habitat for wildlife. But it’s a challenge because there is strong pressure to clear regrowth, largely to maintain pasture.

When do young forests and woodlands become valuable habitat?

We focused on threatened animal species that depend on forests and woodlands, and occur in regions with substantial regrowth.

We wanted to find out which species use regrowth, and how old the trees need to be. But there’s not much survey data available on threatened species living in naturally regenerated forest and woodlands.

To elicit this information we asked almost 50 experts to complete a detailed questionnaire and attend a workshop.

We found 15 years was the average minimum age at which regrowth became useful to threatened species. But the full range was 3-68 years, depending on factors such as what a species eats, how it moves through the landscape and whether it needs tree hollows for shelter or breeding.

For example, one threatened bird (the squatter pigeon) could use woodlands as young as three years old. Koalas benefited from regrowth as young as nine years old.

Some species, such as the greater glider, need much older forests. This is because they require large tree hollows to shelter in during the day, and large trees to feed on and move between at night.

So young forests shouldn’t be seen as an alternative to protecting old forests. We need both.

Understanding the extent of habitat loss

We also estimated the proportion of each species’ current habitat that comprises regrowth, using satellite data and publicly available data.

For some species, we found regrowth made up almost a third of their potential habitat in Queensland. On average, it was 18%.

However, nearly three-quarters of the habitat lost in Queensland since 2018 was regrowth forests and woodlands. So while the loss of older, “remnant” vegetation is more damaging per unit area, the regrowth habitat is being lost on a bigger scale.

Our research suggests retaining more regrowth could be an easy and cost-effective way to help save threatened species.

In contrast, tree planting is time-consuming and expensive. What’s more, only 10% of our native plants are readily available as seeds for sale. This, combined with more extreme weather such as prolonged droughts, often causes restoration projects to fail.

Encouraging landholders to retain regrowth

The fact that habitat can regrow naturally in parts of Queensland is a huge bonus. But farmers also need to maintain productivity, which can decrease if there’s too much regrowth.

So, how do we help these landowners retain more regrowth?

One way is to provide incentives. For example, government-funded biodiversity stewardship schemes provide payments to cover the costs of managing the vegetation – such as fencing off habitat and managing weeds – as well as compensation for loss of agricultural production. Targeting areas of regrowth with high habitat values could be a way for such schemes to benefit wildlife.

Alternatively, market-based schemes allow landowners to generate biodiversity or carbon “credits” by keeping more trees on their property. Then, businesses (or governments) buy these credits. For example, some big emitters in Australia have to purchase carbon credits to “offset” their own emissions.

However, Australia’s carbon market has been accused of issuing “low integrity” carbon credits. This means the carbon credits were paid for projects that may not have captured and stored the amount of carbon they were supposed to. To make sure these markets work, robust methods are needed – and until now, there hasn’t been one that worked to retain regrowth.

Trees are good for the land, air and sea

In February, the Queensland government released a method by which landholders could generate carbon credits by agreeing not to clear their regrowing woodlands and forests.

The new carbon method provides a promising opportunity to allow landowners to diversify their farm income.

In addition, tree cover brings direct, on-farm benefits such as more shade and shelter for livestock, natural pest control and better soil health.

At a landscape level, greater tree cover can improve local climate regulation, reduce sediment run-off to the Great Barrier Reef and reduce Australia’s carbon emissions.

Ideally, Australia’s carbon and biodiversity markets would work alongside sufficient government funding for nature recovery, which needs to increase to at least 1% (currently it’s around 0.1%).

Meanwhile, our research has shown embracing natural regeneration potential in Queensland will have benefits for a range of threatened species too.

We acknowledge our research coauthors, Jeremy Simmonds (2rog Consulting), Michelle Ward (Griffith University) and Teresa Eyre (Queensland Department of Environment, Tourism, Science and Innovation).

Hannah Thomas, PhD candidate in Environmental Policy, The University of Queensland and Martine Maron, Professor of Environmental Management, The University of Queensland

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

A new state-of-the-art tube fishway technology called the “Fishheart” has been launched at Menindee Lakes, located on the Baaka-Darling River, New South Wales.

The technology – part of the NSW government’s Restoring the Darling-Baaka program – will allow native fish to move past large barriers, such as dams, weirs and regulators, when they need to. It’s hoped this will help the fish reproduce and survive, and reduce the risk of mass fish deaths in the Baaka.

At the same time, meaningful policy reform and implementation can’t be achieved without input from First Nations communities. So how do we do this? One creative collaboration on the Fishheart project suggests art may have a big role to play.

Distressing images

Several deeply distressing mass fish death events have occurred in the river since 2018, with millions of native fish, including golden perch, silver perch and Murray cod, dying due to insufficient oxygen in the water.

These events are the outcome of compounding challenges in managing the Murray-Darling Basin, Australia’s largest inland river system. The basin, which stretches from Southern Queensland to South Australia, is a water source for some three million people.

But the construction of infrastructure such as dams, weirs and regulators has profoundly disrupted the natural processes that once sustained healthy river systems. This disruption has been made worse by ineffective and conflict-ridden governance.

The Baaka is a source of life and wellbeing for numerous communities. It should be cared for with the same urgency and coordination as a critically ill patient. If too many doctors or nurses are involved without a clear shared treatment plan, the patient suffers. Likewise, when multiple agencies attempt to manage a sick river, the system can break down.

So how can better care be achieved? For Barkindji Elder David Doyle the answer lies in doing it together.

Seeking and listening to Aboriginal community

Aboriginal peoples have been explaining the importance of Australia’s inland rivers for generations. The Aboriginal community at Menindee held protests about the health of the Baaka two years before the first mass fish deaths. Yet their voices and cultural knowledges have not reconfigured river policy.

A report by the NSW Office of the Chief Scientist and Engineer into the March 2023 mass fish deaths on the Lower Baaka identified the importance of including Aboriginal cultural knowledges in strategies for fish species regeneration and management.

However, according to Barkindji Ngnukuu elder Barbara Quayle, the community’s experience of “consultation” has been a tick-box activity. She says there is no trust that cultural knowledges or community perspectives will actually be listened to.

The power of the arts

Traditional cultural knowledges are often held and expressed through various artforms, from story, to dance, to gallery arts. Within rural and remote communities, the arts and art-making create conditions that can help people work together to address complex issues. In fact, there’s a long history of the arts being used to address social conflict.

Can the Fishheart help prevent fish kills? We don’t know. But the Barkindji community’s artistic input in the project is enabling a more integrated approach to finding out.

Elders and community members have come together with regional arts organisation, The Cad Factory, and the NSW Department of Primary Industries and Regional Development’s Fisheries branch, to design traditional knowledge-inspired art for the Fishheart pipes.

This art was painted onto the pipes by members of Barkindji community over the past month. Other community art, including collaborations with the local school, was also placed around the site.

Making the art gave everyone involved the time, space and tools to consider and discuss the project. We learned how the Fishheart technology is inspired by the human heart, with tubes resembling “veins” and “arteries” that can take fish in and “pump” them over barriers through a siphon effect, letting them circulate throughout the river.

We discussed important details on how this technology works, which includes using artificial intelligence used to detect fish in the pipes and collect real-time data and photos of the migration. We also considered how we might further care for the river, by potentially allowing the removal of invasive species, or monitoring for diseases.

The project also provided fisheries managers with the opportunity to hear community concerns, such as whether the installation of fishways might be perceived in ways associated with colonisation, or eventually lead to fish removal from the waterways.

Most importantly, seeing the pipes visually transformed by Barkindji art connected the Fishheart to place and Country. The art provides a tangible expression of uninterrupted Barkindji custodianship for the river and the species that depend on it.

With art, there is hope for creating policy together – policy that might promote the health of the river as a whole, rather than treating the symptoms of the problem.

Claire Hooker, Senior Lecturer and Coordinator, Health and Medical Humanities, University of Sydney; Barbara Quayle, Vice-president of the Menindee Aboriginal Elders Council, Indigenous Knowledge; Dave Doyle, Barkindji/Malyangapa Indigenous Knowledge holder, Indigenous Knowledge, and Reakeeta Smallwood, Senior Lecturer in Nursing, Indigenous and Population health, University of Sydney

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

Australia’s honeybees are facing an exceptional crisis. The tiny but devastating foreign pest Varroa destructor is steadily spreading across the country.

The mite feeds on baby bees (larvae), weakening them. It can also spread viruses that eventually destroy entire bee colonies.

Efforts to contain its spread have failed, so it looks like Australia must learn to live with this parasite.

What’s worse, Varroa destructor isn’t acting alone. In many parts of New South Wales, the mite’s arrival appears to have triggered a surge in another destructive pest: the small hive beetle (Aethina tumida).

A wet summer in the east has created ideal conditions for beetle outbreaks. This combination is putting enormous pressure on bees and beekeepers alike. Here’s how to help support the bee industry and, if you’re a backyard beekeeper, defend your hives against attack.

Know your enemy

Varroa was first detected in Australia at the NSW Port of Newcastle in June 2022.

The mite is now widely established in NSW and in Queensland between Toowoomba and Brisbane.

It was detected in Victoria, North-West of Melbourne in February and the ACT earlier this month.

In September 2023, Australian authorities acknowledged eradication was no longer possible. The focus shifted to long-term management.

A slimy accomplice

The varroa invasion appears to be making hives more susceptible to the small hive beetle (Aethina tumida). This species arrived in 2002.

The beetle thrives in warm, humid conditions and lays its eggs inside hives. The larvae feed on honey and wax, turning once-thriving hives into a foul, fermented mess. Beekeepers call this a “slime-out” — and it’s just as bad as it sounds.

The deadly one-two punch

A healthy bee colony can usually defend itself against beetles. But when bees are weakened by varroa mites, they’re far less capable of resisting a beetle invasion.

This deadly one-two punch has already devastated many beekeepers in NSW. One commercial beekeeper reported:

I had large infestations of mites. And then following the mite, I got the boom of the hive beetles. I probably lost 30 hives to beetles.

What to do if you suspect an infestation?

The number of registered recreational beekeepers in Australia is growing. In 2019, there were around 27,800 registered hobbyists. By 2023, that number had jumped to over 47,000. Backyard beekeepers also contribute A$260 million to the economy.

Varroa represents a major threat to every Australian honey producer, so here’s a few tips.

Inspect your hives at least once a month. If larvae appear to be tunnelling through honeycomb, or the honey appears fermented, these are signs beetles may be present.

It’s difficult to detect mites visually, especially when there are few mites present. That’s where monitoring techniques come in. Typically, 300 bees are placed in ethanol or icing sugar and shaken until mites fall off. This allows beekeepers to not only detect the mites but also to count them.

Report mites to the relevant state authorities. Failure to do so can result in fines.

Immediately treat the infested hive and move it at least ten metres away from any others.

Chemicals called miticides can kill varroa mites and knock the population down. But some beekeepers report side effects, including queen loss, so be prepared to replace queens.

Mites may develop resistance to these treatments over time, as one commercial beekeeper from NSW said:

We’ve experienced a lot of queenless hives. I don’t know whether that’s from treatments […] it might be just coincidence, but I’m hearing a lot of other beekeepers having the same problem.

Varroa mites feed on bee larvae, so caging the queen and taking a short break from brood production can reduce the mite population. Mites prefer male bee larvae, so removing these can help.

These control methods are effective, though labour-intensive, and potentially suitable for backyard beekeepers. They can lessen the need for chemical treatments — slowing the evolution of resistance to miticides.

Protection against mites and beetles

To prevent your backyard hives being infested by mites or beetles:

• keep colonies well fed, so they don’t rob other colonies and catch their parasites

• help bees recognise hives, so they don’t enter the wrong colony with varroa mites on their back (paint hives, space them apart by a few meters, ideally 10m)

• reduce the size of hive entrances to help bees block access to intruders

• regularly check that your beetle traps are still working, as bees often block the holes that let the beetles into the traps with tree resin

• fill the cracks where beetles hide.

How consumers can help

Australians can support the nation’s beekeepers in a few simple ways. Buy 100% Australian honey and hive products from trusted, local sources.

Sugar can easily be swapped for honey in most recipes and honey is a great way to sweeten tea.

When substituting sugar for honey, it’s worth noting honey tastes sweeter so you might want to use less. Honey also contains 18% water, so you may need to reduce the amounts of other liquids in cake recipes accordingly.

Avoid imported honey and bee products to reduce the chance of bringing bee viruses into the country. Not all imported bee products are treated to kill bee viruses.

Finally, planting pollinator-friendly gardens helps to feed local bees.

Safeguarding an industry and a popular hobby

As well as backyard hobbyists, Australia’s beekeeping community includes 1,872 large-scale commercial beekeepers.

Many fear mites will push beekeepers out of business. Protecting the industry requires a shift in mindset, from emergency response to long-term pest management.

With good science, community support and adaptive management, beekeepers — both commercial and backyard — can weather the storm.

Cornelia Sattler, Research Fellow in Ecology & Videographer, Macquarie University and Théotime Colin, Post-doctoral Researcher in Bee Ecology, Macquarie University

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

Of the more than 20,000 bee species in the world, 70% nest in the ground. And like many of their counterparts that nest above ground, these bees are facing rapid population declines.

But while there has been research into providing habitat for above-ground cavity-nesting bees, the nesting ecology of ground-nesting bees remains largely understudied.

This gap in knowledge is concerning. For one, these bees play a crucial role in ecosystems. For another, ground-nesting bee habitats are threatened by land degradation, urbanisation, pesticides and agricultural expansion.

Our recent study addresses this research gap. Published this week in Austral Entomology, it examines the soil type preferences of ground-nesting bees and provides a simple, practical approach to enhancing their habitats.

A high diversity of native bees

Australia hosts a high diversity of native bees found nowhere else in the world – more than 1,600 scientifically named species.

Lasioglossum (Homalictus) dotatum is a small, ground-nesting bee species native to Australia. It measures approximately 3–4 mm.

Unlike the introduced European honey bee (Apis mellifera), which lives in large, highly organised colonies with complex social structures, L. dotatum exhibits an “apartment living” social structure, with independent nests situated close to one another. This aggregation behaviour indicates certain environmental or habitat features that are necessary for the species to thrive.

This species is widely distributed across mainland Australia. It nests in a range of sandy soil types. Because of this, it offers a valuable opportunity to examine how different environmental conditions shape its nesting preferences.

A prolific pollinator

A key feature of the nests of this species is the presence of small conical mounds of excavated soil, known as tumuli, which surround the entrance. These mounds can resemble small ant hills. As a result, the nests are sometimes mistaken for ant nests, leading to accidental pesticide application and destruction of the bees’ habitats.

This bee is also known to visit a range of plants of ecological importance, which makes understanding its role in ecosystems essential. It has been recorded visiting the flowers of jarrah, marri and yarri trees – all of which are vital for maintaining biodiversity and supporting wildlife in southwestern Australia.

Lasioglossum dotatum has also been observed in avocado orchards, a crop of significant economic value in Western Australia.

While it remains uncertain whether L. dotatum is a major crop pollinator, its presence in these orchards suggests it could play a supplementary role in pollination. This potentially makes it an intriguing subject for research exploring native alternatives to honey bees (Apis mellifera) for crop pollination.

Understanding bees’ nesting preferences

Our research focused on understanding the nesting preferences of L. dotatum. The study sought to explore how environmental features, such as soil type and surface cover, influenced where these bees chose to nest.

Specifically, the study tested whether L. dotatum preferred bare sand or rock gravel as a nesting substrate.

The study also examined whether the cleanliness of the sand – whether steam-treated or left untreated — impacted the bees’ nesting decisions.

The study used artificial nesting pots filled with sand from the Swan Coastal Plain, a region known for its sandy soils, to simulate nesting conditions around active bee aggregations. During the summer nesting season of February 2022, researchers monitored how the bees interacted with these artificial nesting sites, using the number of nest entrances (or tumuli) as a measure of nesting activity.

Getting into the gravel

Our study found L. dotatum strongly preferred nesting in pots covered with rock gravel over those with bare sand. This preference likely arises from the benefits provided by rock gravel, such as improved moisture retention, temperature regulation, and protection from predators.

The experimental pots with rock gravel had significantly more nest entrances. This indicated that rock cover helps create a more stable and favourable microhabitat for nesting.

The bees also showed a preference for steam-treated sand, suggesting that factors such as microbial contaminants or organic residues in untreated soil may deter nesting.

Interestingly, when the rock gravel was removed, many nests were found concealed beneath the gravel. This highlights the importance of rock cover in enhancing nest stability and reducing the risk of disturbance.

A simple, practical approach to conservation

These findings have important implications for native bee conservation, particularly in urban and agricultural areas.

The preference for rock gravel suggests that incorporating this material into urban landscapes could improve nesting conditions for ground-nesting bees such as L. dotatum.

By creating spaces for these ground nesting bees, we can better support these vital pollinators.

As native bees continue to face habitat loss and degradation, these findings provide a simple, practical approach to enhancing their habitats, ultimately contributing to more sustainable pollinator populations in urban and rural settings alike.

Freya Marie Jackson, PhD Candidate, School of Veterinary and Life Sciences, Murdoch University; Giles Hardy, Professor in Forest Pathology, Murdoch University; Kit Prendergast, Postdoctoral Researcher, Pollination Ecology, University of Southern Queensland, and Wei Xu, Associate Professor in Entomology, Murdoch University

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

The UN’s International Maritime Organization has just agreed to start charging ships for the greenhouse gases they emit. After decades of ineffective incremental tweaks to shipping emissions, the breakthrough came on April 11 at a summit in London. It makes shipping the first industry subject to a worldwide – and legally binding – emissions price.

The positive spin is that getting any sort of deal is a major win for multilateral climate action, especially considering two strong headwinds.

From within the meeting, there was sustained opposition to ambitious action from Saudi Arabia and other petrostates, as well as from China and Brazil. Second, the US had already disengaged from negotiations. Even so, from outside the meeting, the US administration’s tariff war and explicit threat to retaliate against states supporting a shipping pricing regime could have affected talks far more than they did.

But we’re not sure that this agreement can be considered a success. While there is little traditional climate change denial at the IMO, “mitigation denial” is alive and kicking. Mitigation denial means making lofty promises, often in line with scientific evidence, but not adopting concrete measures able to deliver on these targets. This is exactly what petrostates pushed the IMO to do last week.

Ultimately, the IMO has well and truly failed the most climate vulnerable, by favouring a more gradual and less certain transition to low-carbon shipping. It’s even effectively making these countries pay the price.

What are the measures?

The IMO agreement introduces a global fuel standard for shipping, with financial penalties for ships that don’t meet emissions targets. This is effectively a carbon-trading scheme.

It sets two targets, both of which get tougher every year: a “base” level and a stricter “direct compliance” level. Ships that miss the direct target have to buy “remedial units”, and more expensive ones if they also fail the base level. Ships that go beyond their targets earn “surplus units”, which they can trade or save for up to two years.

In practice, this means that the companies and countries that can invest in new technologies will earn a double dividend: they won’t pay for emissions and they will receive rewards for using low-emission fuels.

At the same time, countries and shipping companies lacking the means to invest will effectively subsidise those early movers by paying penalties that reward them. Hardly any revenues will be available for the promised “just and equitable” transition that would ensure no country is left behind. No wonder nearly all delegates from vulnerable Pacific nations abstained from the vote at the IMO.

For a typical ship burning heavy fuel oil in 2028, it works out at around US$25 (£19) per tonne of greenhouse gas. That’s far lower than needed to drive a rapid transition to cleaner fuels. We also still don’t know exactly how the money raised will be used.

Delegates also agreed to update the IMO’s “carbon intensity” policy, which now requires ships to be 21.5% more fuel efficient by 2030 compared to 2019. This is a modest 2.5% improvement per year.

Pacific island states and the UK were among those arguing for bigger cuts (up to 47%). China pushed for 15% and the EU proposed the surprisingly low 23%. The final result of 21.5% is a bad compromise that does not reflect scientific recommendations on meeting the IMO’s goals or what is possible with available technology.

Climate action at the IMO

This geopolitical struggle goes back decades. Following the adoption of the Kyoto protocol (a precursor of the Paris agreement) in 1997, the UN tasked the IMO with reducing shipping emissions. After two decades of little progress, in 2018 the IMO eventually set a weak target to cut emissions by 50% from 2008 levels. In 2023, that goal was strengthened to net-zero emissions “by or around 2050”, with interim targets of 20-30% cuts by 2030 and 70-80% by 2040.

Most importantly, the 2023 strategy also committed to adopting legally binding measures in April 2025 to deliver on these targets. This has now happened.

In light of that history, the new measures do constitute progress. However, their success has to be judged on whether they can actually meet the IMO’s targets.

The 2030 goal is especially important as climate damage is proportional to cumulative emissions over time, so it’s important to cut emissions as soon as possible. If the shipping sector misses its 2030 target, it may have emitted too much carbon to still make a fair contribution to the Paris agreement.

Academics at UCL have analysed the new IMO agreement. Unfortunately, they calculated the new policies will only deliver a 10% reduction by 2030 – that’s not even close to the 20% goal the IMO set, let alone the “strive” target of 30%.

Mitigation denial?

At the IMO’s closing meeting, Harry Conway, chair of its Marine Environment Protection Committee, held up a glass of water and remarked that at the start of the week, the glass was empty, now the glass is half full.

As political spin, that image might work. But when it comes to setting a clear and ambitious path forward, the measures fall well short.

The 2023 strategy committed nations to “strive” to deliver 30% emissions cuts by 2030. Last week’s meeting might yield 10%. Another reason why Pacific delegates abstained from voting. There is a lot more striving – and delivering – to be done.

A credible pathway to reach net-zero by 2050 is now at risk. Strong pushback by the US, Saudi Arabia, China and Brazil, and weak leadership from the EU all played a role. Even adopting these modest measures – which requires a vote in October – and specifying operational “guidelines” afterwards will be an uphill battle.

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Christiaan De Beukelaer, Senior Lecturer in Culture & Climate, The University of Melbourne and Simon Bullock, Research Associate, Shipping and Climate Change, University of Manchester

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

The U.S. Supreme Court in March 2025 ended a decade-old lawsuit filed by a group of children who sought to hold the federal government responsible for some of the consequences of climate change. But just two months earlier, the justices allowed a similar suit from the city and county of Honolulu, Hawaii, to continue against oil and gas companies.

Evidence shows that fossil fuel companies, electric utilities and the federal government have known about climate change, its dangers and its human causes for at least 50 years. But the steps taken by fossil fuel companies, utilities and governments, including the U.S. government, have not been enough to meet international climate targets.

So local and state governments and citizens have asked the courts to force companies and public agencies to act. Their results have varied, with limited victories to date. But the cases keep coming.

Attacking the emissions themselves

In general, legal claims in the U.S. can be based on the U.S. and state constitutions, federal and state laws, or what is called “common law” – legal principles created by courts over time.

Lawsuits have used state and federal laws to try to limit greenhouse gas pollution itself and to seek financial compensation for alleged industry cover-ups of the dangers of fossil fuels, among many other types of claims.

In 2007 the U.S. Supreme Court determined that greenhouse gases such as carbon dioxide emitted from motor vehicles were a “pollutant” under the federal Clean Air Act. As a result, the court ordered the Environmental Protection Agency to either determine whether greenhouse gases from new vehicles contribute to climate change, and therefore endanger human health, or justify its refusal to study the issue.

In 2009 the EPA found that carbon dioxide emissions did in fact endanger human health – a decision called the “endangerment finding.” In 2010 it imposed limits on carbon dioxide emissions from new vehicles and, later, from newly constructed power plants.

But related EPA efforts to regulate emissions from older power plants – the ones that emit the most pollution – failed when challenged in court on the grounds that they went too far in limiting emissions beyond the power plants’ own properties.

The Biden administration had finalized a new rule to clean up these older plants, but the Trump administration is now seeking to withdraw it.

The Trump administration is also now beginning the complicated process of reviewing the 2009 endangerment finding. It could try to remove the legal basis for EPA greenhouse gas regulations.

A common-law approach

In response to this federal executive seesaw of climate action, some legal claims use a court-based, or common law, approach to address climate concerns. For instance, in Connecticut v. American Electric Power, filed in 2004, nine states asked a federal judge to order power plants to reduce their emissions. The states said those emissions contributed to global warming, which they argued met the federal common law definition of a “public nuisance.”

That case ended when the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in 2011 that the existence of a statute – the federal Clean Air Act – meant common law did not apply. Other plaintiffs have tried to use the “public nuisance” claim or a related common-law claim of “trespass” to force large power plants or oil and gas producers to pay climate-related damages. But in those cases, too, courts found that the Clean Air Act overrode the common-law grounds for those claims.

With those case outcomes, many plaintiffs have shifted their strategies, focusing more on state courts and seeking to hold the fossil fuel industry responsible for allegedly deceiving the public about the causes and effects of climate change.

Examining deception

In many cases, state and local governments are arguing that the fossil fuel industry knew about the dangers of climate change and deceived the public about them, and that the industry exaggerated the extent of its investments in energy that doesn’t emit carbon.

Rather than directly asking courts to order reduced carbon emissions, these cases tend to seek damages that will help governments cover the costs associated with climate change, such as construction of cooling centers and repair of roads damaged by increased precipitation.

In legal terms, the lawsuits are saying oil and gas companies violated consumer-protection laws and committed common-law civil violations such as negligence. For instance, the city of Chicago alleges that major petroleum giants – along with the industry trade association the American Petroleum Institute – had “abundant knowledge” of the public harms of fossil fuels yet “actively campaigned” to hide that information and deceive consumers. Many other complaints by states and local governments make similar allegations.

Another lawsuit, from the state of Maine, lists and provides photographs of a litany of internal industry documents showing industry knowledge of the threat of climate change. That lawsuit also cites a 1977 memo from an Exxon employee to Exxon executives, which stated that “current scientific opinion overwhelmingly favors attributing atmospheric carbon dioxide increase to fossil fuel consumption,” and a 1979 internal Exxon memo about the buildup of carbon dioxide emissions, which warned that “(t)he potential problem is great and urgent.”

These complaints also show organizations supported by fossil fuel companies published ads as far back as the 1990s, with titles such as “Apocalypse No” and “Who told you the earth was warming … Chicken Little?” Some of these ads – part of a broader campaign – were funded by a group called the Information Council for the Environment, supported by coal producers and electric utilities.

Courts have dismissed some of these complaints, finding that federal laws overrule the principles those suits are based on. But many are still winding their way through the courts.

In 2023 the Supreme Court of Hawaii found that federal laws do not prevent climate claims based on state common law. In January 2025 the U.S. Supreme Court allowed the case to continue.

Other approaches

Still other litigation approaches argue that governments inadequately reviewed the effects of greenhouse gas emissions, or even supported or subsidized those emissions caused by private industry. Those lawsuits – some of which were filed by children, with help from their parents or legal guardians – claim the governments’ actions violated people’s constitutional rights.

For instance, children in the Juliana v. United States case, first filed in 2015, said 50 years of petroleum-supporting actions by presidents and various federal agencies had violated their fundamental “right to a climate system capable of sustaining human life.” The 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals ruled that their claim was a “political question” – meant for Congress, not the courts. The U.S. Supreme Court declined to reconsider that ruling in March 2025.

But children in Montana found more success. The Montana Constitution requires state officials and all residents to “maintain and improve a clean and healthful environment … for present and future generations.” In 2024 the Montana Supreme Court determined that this provision “includes a stable climate system that sustains human lives and liberties.”

The Montana Supreme Court also reviewed a state law banning officials from considering greenhouse gas emissions of projects approved by the state. The court found that the ban violated the state constitution, too. Since then, the Montana Supreme Court has specifically required state officials to review the climate effects of a project for which permits were challenged.

Concerned people and groups continue to file climate-related lawsuits across the country and around the world. They are seeing mixed results, but as the cases continue and more are filed, they are drawing attention to potential corporate and government wrongdoing, as well as the human costs of climate change. And they are inspiring shareholders and citizens to demand more accurate information and action from fossil fuel companies and electric utilities.

Hannah Wiseman, Professor of Law, Penn State

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

In an old-growth longleaf pine savanna, the absurdly long pine needles sing in the wind. Once considered forests, these landscapes in the southeastern U.S. coastal plain are open-canopied and sunny, more grassland than forest, with underbrush kept clear by frequent fires.

Longleaf pines – their needles can be up to 18 inches long – are among the longest-lived trees in eastern North America, surpassing 500 years if they are lucky enough to escape lightning strikes from the region’s frequent thunderstorms. Almost more fascinating is the ground cover, with up to 50 species per square meter, including some plants that are thousands of years old, with the vast majority of their biomass below ground. Picture an underground forest.

In the American West, there are other types of old-growth forest. Dry ponderosa pine woodlands are similarly open in structure and contain trees up to nearly 1,000 years old. But perhaps the most familiar old-growth forests are the complex, wet old-growth forests of the Pacific Northwest, which stretch from northwestern California to southeastern Alaska.

These forests, which contain Douglas fir, coast redwood, western hemlock, western red cedar, Sitka spruce and many other tree species, have been compared to cathedrals, providing an otherworldly experience of gigantic, ancient trees festooned with mosses and lichens and with fallen trees strewn like buses across the forest floor.

I’m fortunate to have lived among and studied both southeastern pine savannas and Pacific Northwest conifer forests. The contrast between them could not be greater. And there are many other old-growth forests across the continent – including northeastern spruce fir and northern hardwoods forests, Great Lakes red pine and jack pine woodlands, southern Appalachian mixed mesophytic forests, and Great Basin bristlecone pines reaching nearly 5,000 years old. Each of these forests has a unique ecology, but all are under threat from human activity and climate change.

I recently co-authored a research paper with two colleagues and my collaborator, Carlos Carroll, who is a conservation biologist at the Klamath Center for Conservation Research. In it, we explain that there are some key reasons it’s so difficult to conserve the nation’s varied old-growth landscapes.

In general, the challenge is that it’s possible to conceive of all these areas as a single group – old growth landscapes – where large, old trees dominate the canopy but where small-scale disturbances such as treefall gaps create a mosaic of age classes. Foresters often call this an “uneven-age forest.”

But they really constitute a wide range of landscapes with different, often unique needs for protection, restoration and management. For example, in some old-growth forests, the trees live thousands of years, whereas in others the maximum lifespan of the dominant tree species is much less, sometimes only around 200 years. And some old-growth forests have abundant deadwood, both standing and on the ground, whereas others are kept largely clear of deadwood by frequent fires.

Widely different local conditions

Large, old trees can be removed quickly but require hundreds of years to be replaced. When seeking to balance conservation goals with other priorities, including local economic needs, some foresters use a method called “thinning,” in which wooded areas aren’t clear-cut completely. Instead, only some trees are cut down. This can involve cutting smaller, younger trees while protecting older trees from logging – but at times it has included logging older trees as well. Even if it spares old trees, though, thinning can still harm biodiversity and old-growth ecosystems.

But it isn’t always clear how old a tree must be to protect it from logging. Some conservationists argue that the rules should protect some or all forests that are considered mature – say, 80 or so years old – but not yet old growth. As those stands of trees age, they will become old growth, taking the place of trees logged in the past.

However, a rule as simple as sparing trees above a certain age is not necessarily best for every old-growth region. In longleaf pine savannas, for instance, the standard practice of rapidly extinguishing wildfires has meant hardwood trees typically associated with denser, moister forests have grown up amid the pines. Some threatened species, such as the red-cockaded woodpecker, has adapted to survive only in areas that are extensive open-canopy, old-growth pine savannas with few hardwoods.

Restoration of those forests may require cutting down the invading hardwoods, even if they are decades old, as well as using fire to manage the resulting pine-dominated landscape. In some other types of old-growth forests, careful use of fire may be enough to restore the ecosystem without cutting any trees.

Long-term and short-term at the same time

A key challenge for protecting old-growth areas is the importance of balancing immediate risks with long-term needs, considering how ecosystems change as trees age and die, and across larger areas such as watersheds.

Old-growth forests are rare – less than 7% of the area of U.S. forests today – and are still often logged. To recover forest ecosystems across the U.S., it will not be enough to protect just old-growth areas.

Especially valuable for biodiversity are areas of regenerating forests that grow after fires or other disturbances such as windstorms, in places where live and dead trees in the disturbed forests have not been cut. These disturbed forests provide habitats for species associated with more open conditions. Many woodpeckers, epitomized by the black-backed woodpecker in western North America, depend on conditions created by severe fires.

Observing the broader value

Beyond trees, there are many species of plants and animals that depend on old-growth landscapes. Perhaps most famous among them are the red-cockaded woodpecker of the southeastern U.S. and the northern spotted owl of the Pacific Northwest.

Those plants’ and animals’ needs can give conservationists and ecologists insights into what territory is most useful to preserve, not just for the trees but for the larger ecosystem. That includes finding ways to connect conservation areas across the landscape so life can grow and spread.

Efforts to preserve old-growth landscapes protect more than just the trees. These forests also store carbon, keeping it out of the atmosphere where it drives climate change. They help provide clean water for people and aquatic ecosystems, along with space for recreation, reflection and other cultural activities.

Ecological science cannot resolve the debates about how to prioritize and preserve old-growth forest. But it can help inform the public about the rising costs of doing nothing, and of the wide benefits of maintaining, recovering and restoring functioning old-growth ecosystems.

Carlos Carroll, a conservation biologist at the Klamath Center for Conservation Research, also contributed to this article.

Reed Frederick Noss, Conservation Science Coordinator, University of Florida

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

For millennia, humans lived as hunter-gatherers. Savannas and forests are often thought of as the cradle of our lineage, but beneath the waves, a habitat exists that has quietly supported humans for over 180,000 years.

Archaeological evidence suggests that early humans migrated along coasts, avoiding desert and tundra. So, as Homo spread from Africa, they inevitably encountered seagrasses – flowering plants evolved to inhabit shallow coastal environments that form undersea meadows teeming with life.

Our recently published research pieces together historical evidence from across the globe, revealing that humans and seagrass meadows have been intertwined for millennia – providing food, fishing grounds, building materials, medicine and more throughout our shared history.

Our earliest known links to seagrass date back around 180,000 years. Tiny seagrass-associated snails were discovered in France at Paleolithic cave sites used by Neanderthals. Too small to be a consequence of food remains, these snails were likely introduced with Posidonia oceanica leaves used for bedding – a type of seagrass found only in the Mediterranean. Neanderthals didn’t just use seagrass to make sleeping comfortable – 120,000 year old evidence suggests they harvested seagrass-associated scallops too.

A bountiful supply of food

Seagrass meadows provide shelter and food for marine life, such as fish, invertebrates, reptiles and marine mammals. Because they inhabit shallow waters close to shore, seagrass meadows have been natural fishing grounds and places where generations have speared, cast nets, set traps and hand-gathered food to survive and thrive.

Long before modern fishing fleets, ancient communities recognised the value of these underwater grasslands. Around 6,000 years ago, the people of eastern Arabia depended on seagrass meadows to hunt rabbitfish – a practice so prevalent here that remnants of their fishing traps are still visible from space.

Seagrass meadows have even been directly harvested as food. Around 12,000 years ago, some of the first human cultures in North America, settling on Isla Cedros off the coast of Baja California, gathered and consumed seeds from Zostera marina, a species commonly called eelgrass. These seeds were milled into a flour and baked into breads and cakes, a process alike to wheat milling today.

Further north, the Indigenous Kwakwaka’wakw peoples, as far back as 10,000 years ago, developed a careful and sustainable way of gathering eelgrass for consumption. By twisting a pole into the seagrass, they pulled up the leaves, and broke them off near the rhizome – the underground stem that is rich in sugary carbohydrates. After removing the roots and outer leaves, they wrapped the youngest leaves around the rhizome, dipping it in oil before eating. Remarkably, this method was later found to promote seagrass health, encouraging new growth and resilience.

Today, seagrass meadows remain a lifeline for coastal communities, particularly across the Indian and Pacific Oceans. Here, fishing within seagrass habitats is shown to be more reliable than other coastal habitats and women often sustain their families by gleaning – a fishing practice that involves carefully combing seagrass meadows for edible shells and other marine life. For these communities, seagrass fishing is vital during periods when fishing at sea is not possible, for example, during tropical storms.

When seagrasses returned to the sea around 100 million years ago, they evolved to have specialised leaves to tolerate both saltwater submergence and periods of time exposed to the sun during tidal cycles. This allowed seagrasses to flourish across our coastlines, but also made them useful resources for humans.

Seagrass leaves, once dry, are relatively moist- and rot-proof – properties likely discovered by ancient civilisations when exploring the uses of plants for different purposes. Bronze age civilizations like the Minoans, used seagrass in building construction, reinforcing mudbricks with seagrass. Analysis of these reveal superior thermal properties of seagrass mudbricks compared to bricks made with other plant fibres – they kept buildings warmer in winter and cooler in summer.

These unique properties may have been why early humans used seagrass for bedding and by the 16th century, seagrass-stuffed mattresses were prized for pest resistance, requested even by Pope Julius III.

By the 17th century, Europeans were using seagrass to thatch roofs and insulate their homes. North American colonialists took this knowledge with them, continuing the practice. In the 19th century, commercial harvesting of tens of thousands of tonnes of seagrass began across North America and northern Europe.

In the US, Boston’s Samuel Cabot Company patented an insulation material called Cabot’s “Quilt”, sandwiching dried seagrass leaves between two layers of paper. These quilts were used to insulate buildings across the US, including New York’s Rockefeller Center and the Capitol in Washington DC.

A legacy ecosystem – and a living one

The prevalence of seagrass throughout human civilisation has fostered spiritual and cultural relations with these underwater gardens, manifesting in rituals and historical customs. In Neolithic graves in Denmark, scientists found human remains wrapped in seagrass, representing a close connection with the sea.

Our new research tells us that seagrass meadows are not just biodiversity hotspots or carbon storage systems. They are ancient human allies. This elevates their value beyond conservation – they’re repositories of cultural heritage and traditional knowledge. They were practical, valuable, and deeply integrated into human cultures.

We have depended on seagrass for 180,000 years – for food, homes, customs – so investing in their conservation and restoration is not just ecological, it’s deeply human.

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Benjamin Jones, Chief Conservation Officer, Project Seagrass & Research Affiliate, Swansea University; Nicole R Foster, Postdoctoral Researcher, Marine Science, Centro de Estudios Avanzados de Blanes (CEAB-CSIC), and Oscar Serrano, Principal Researcher, Coastal Ecology, Centro de Estudios Avanzados de Blanes (CEAB-CSIC)

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

Nearly 17% of the world’s croplands are contaminated with “heavy metals”, according to a new study in Science. These contaminants – arsenic, cadmium, lead, and others – may be invisible to the eye, but they threaten food safety and human health.

Heavy metals and metalloids are elements that originate from either natural or human-made sources. They’re called “heavy” because they’re physically dense and their weight is high at an atomic scale.

Heavy metals do not break down. They remain in soils for decades, where crops can absorb them and enter the food chain. Over time, they accumulate in the body, causing chronic diseases that may take years to appear. This is not a problem for the distant future; it’s already affecting food grown today.

Some heavy metals, such as zinc and copper, are essential micronutrients in trace amounts. Others – including arsenic, cadmium, mercury, and lead – are toxic even at low concentrations.

Some are left behind by natural geology, others by decades of industrial and agricultural activities. They settle into soils through mining, factory emissions, fertilisers or contaminated water.

When crops grow, they draw nutrients from the soil and water – and sometimes, these contaminants too. Rice, for instance, is known for taking up arsenic from flooded paddies. Leafy greens can accumulate cadmium. These metals do not change the taste or colour of food. But they change what it does inside the body.

The quiet health crisis beneath our crops

Long-term exposure to arsenic, cadmium, or lead has been linked to cancer, kidney damage, osteoporosis, and developmental disorders in children. In regions where local diets rely heavily on a single staple crop like rice or wheat, the risks multiply.

The Science study, led by Chinese scientist Deyi Hou and his colleagues, is one of the most comprehensive mapping efforts. By combining recent advances in machine learning with an expansive dataset of 796,084 soil concentrations from 1,493 studies, the authors systematically assessed global soil pollution for seven toxic metals: arsenic, cadmium, cobalt, chromium, copper, nickel, and lead.

The study found that cadmium in agricultural soil frequently exceeded the threshold, particularly in the areas shaded in red in this map:

The authors also describe a “metal-enriched corridor” stretching from southern Europe through the Middle East and into south Asia. These are areas where agricultural productivity overlaps with a history of mining, industrial activity and limited regulation.

How science is reading the soil’s story

Heavy metal contamination in cropland varies by region, often shaped by geology, land use history, and water management. Across central and south-east Asia, rice fields are irrigated with groundwater that naturally contains arsenic. That water deposits arsenic into the soil, where it is taken up by the rice.

Fortunately, nature often provides defence. Recent research showed that certain types of iron minerals in the soil can convert arsenite – a toxic, mobile form of arsenic – into arsenate, a less harmful species that binds more tightly to iron minerals. This invisible soil chemistry represents a safety net.

In parts of west Africa, such as Burkina Faso, arsenic contamination in drinking and irrigation water has also affected croplands. To address this, colleagues and I developed a simple filtration system using zerovalent iron – essentially, iron nails. These low-cost, locally sourced filters have shown promising results in removing arsenic from groundwater.

In parts of South America, croplands near small-scale mines face additional risks. In the Amazon basin, deforestation and informal gold mining contribute to mercury releases. Forests act as natural mercury sinks, storing atmospheric mercury in biomass and soil. When cleared, this stored mercury is released into the environment, raising atmospheric levels and potentially affecting nearby water bodies and croplands.

Cropland near legacy mining sites often suffers long-term contamination but with the appropriate technologies, these sites can be remediated and even transformed into circular economy opportunities.

Evidence-based solutions

Soil contamination is not just a scientific issue. It’s a question of environmental justice. The communities most affected are often the least responsible for the pollution. They may farm on marginal lands near industry, irrigate with unsafe water, or lack access to testing and treatment. They face a double burden: food and water insecurity, and toxic exposure.

There is no single fix. We’ll need reliable assessment of contaminated soils and groundwater, especially in vulnerable and smallholder farming systems. Reducing exposure requires cleaner agricultural inputs, improved irrigation, and better regulation of legacy industrial sites. Equally critical is empowering communities with access to information and tools that enable them to farm safely.

Soils carry memory. They record every pollutant, every neglected regulation, every decision to cut corners. But soils also hold the potential to heal – if given the proper support.

This is not about panic. It’s about responsibility. The Science study provides a stark but timely reminder that food safety begins not in the kitchen or market but in the ground beneath our feet. No country should unknowingly export toxicity in its grain, nor should any farmer be left without the tools to grow food safely.

Jagannath Biswakarma, Senior Research Associate, School of Earth Sciences and Cabot Institute for the Environment, University of Bristol

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

The colossal squid was first described in 1925 based on specimens from the stomach of a commercially hunted sperm whale. A century later, an international voyage captured the first confirmed video of this species in its natural habitat – a 30-centimetre juvenile, at a depth of 600 metres near the South Sandwich Islands.

Colossal squid can grow up to seven metres and weigh as much as 500 kilograms, making them the heaviest invertebrate on the planet. But little is known about their life cycle.

The footage of a young colossal squid in the water column was a serendipitous sighting, as many deep-sea squid observations are.

It was seen during the live “divestream” feed of a remotely operated vehicle during the Schmidt Ocean Institute and Ocean Census partner expedition searching for new deep-sea species and habitats in the far south Atlantic, mostly focusing on the seafloor.

Those tuned into the stream had the remarkable experience of seeing a live colossal squid in its deep-sea home, although its identity was not confirmed until the high-definition footage could be reviewed later.

Predators such as whales and seabirds are still one of our best sources of information about the colossal squid (Mesonychoteuthis hamiltoni) because they are much better at finding it than we are.

This partially explains why we have only just filmed this species in its natural habitat. Not only do these animals live in an enormous, dark and three-dimensional environment, they are also probably actively avoiding us.

Most of our deep-sea exploration equipment is large, noisy and uses bright lights if we are trying to film animals. But the colossal squid can detect and avoid diving sperm whales, which probably produce a strong light signal as they swim down and disturb bioluminescent animals.

The squid best able to avoid such predators have been passing on their genes for millions of years. This leaves us with a current population of visually acute, likely light-avoiding animals, well capable of detecting a light signal from many metres away.

Delicate beauty of deep-sea animals

The colossal squid is part of the “glass” squid family (Cranchiidae). Three known glass squid species are found in the Antarctic ocean, but it can be difficult to distinguish them on camera.

Researchers from the organisation Kolossal, aiming to film the colossal squid, observed a similarly sized glass squid during their fourth Antarctic mission in 2023. But since the characteristic features needed to identify a colossal squid – hooks on the ends of the two long tentacles and in the middle of each of the eight shorter arms – weren’t clearly visible, its exact identity remains unconfirmed.

In the Schmidt Ocean Institute footage, the mid-arm hooks are visible. And for this young individual, the resemblance to other glass squids is also clear. With age and size, colossal squid likely lose their transparent appearance and become much more of an anomaly within the family.

While many will be amused by the idea of a “small colossal” squid, this footage showcases a beauty shared by many deep-sea animals, in contrast to the monster hype and “stuff of nightmares” click-bait titles we see all too often.

This colossal squid looks like a delicate glass sculpture, with fins of such fine musculature they are barely visible. It has shining iridescent eyes and graceful arms fanned out from the head.

At full size, the colossal squid may be a formidable predator, with its stout arms and array of sharp hooks, able to tackle two-metre-long toothfish. But in our first confirmed view of it at home in the deep sea, we can marvel at the elegance of this animal, thriving in an environment where humans require so much technology even to visit remotely.

Stranger than science fiction

Until recently, few people were able to take part in deep-sea exploration. But now, anyone with an internet connection can be “in the room” while we explore these habitats and observe animals for the first time.

It’s hard to overstate the importance of the deep sea. It holds hundreds of thousands of undiscovered species, it is probably where life on Earth started, and it makes up 95% of the available living space on our planet.

It has animals more splendid and strange than our most creative science fiction imaginings. This includes squids that start life looking like small light bulbs and then grow into true giants; colonies of individuals living together with each contributing to the group’s success; animals where males (often parasitic) are orders of magnitude smaller than females.

This first confirmed sighting of a colossal squid inspires and reminds us how much we have left to learn.

The expedition that captured the footage of the colossal squid was a collaboration between the Schmidt Ocean Institute, the Nippon Foundation-NEKTON Ocean Census, and GoSouth (a joint project between the University of Plymouth, GEOMAR Helmholtz Centre for Ocean Research and the British Antarctic Survey).

Kat Bolstad, Associate Professor of Environmental Science, Auckland University of Technology

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

Walk into any home or workplace today, and you’re likely to find an array of indoor plants. The global market for indoor plants is growing fast – projected to reach more than US$28 billion (A$44 billion) by 2031.

People keep indoor plants inside for a variety of reasons, including as decoration, to clean the air and for stress relief. But my colleagues and I wanted to delve further. What sort of relationships do people have with indoor plants? And what can this tell us about ties between humans and nature?

We surveyed indoor plant owners in Australia, and found many of us form highly meaningful connections with our leafy companions. Some people even consider their plants as family, get anxious about their health and mourn a plant when it dies.

A blooming hobby

People have grown plants inside for thousands of years.

Evidence suggests Egyptians brought plants indoors in the 3rd century BC. The remains of the former city of Pompeii reveal indoor plants used there more than 2,000 years ago, and in medieval England, indoor plants were used in medicine and cooking.

The keeping of indoor plants became widespread across the world in the second half of the 20th century. The practice was particularly popular during the COVID-19 pandemic, likely due to a desire to connect with nature when access to outdoor green spaces was limited.

The benefits of indoor plants go beyond nature connection. Studies show they can increase positive emotions, reduce stress, enhance productivity, and even decrease physical discomfort such as pain.

However, people have varying levels of connection to their plants, as research by my colleagues and I shows.

Why we love indoor plants

We surveyed 115 Australian adults, recruited through social media posts and poster advertisements at the University of South Australia. Participants were roughly 69% female, 30% male and 1% non-binary, and ranged in age from 18 to 69.

On average, participants owned 15 indoor plants. Some owned a single indoor plant and one person owned a whopping 500!

Between them, respondents kept 51 varieties of house plants. The most common were succulents, devil’s ivy and monstera. They most commonly kept the plants in the living room, kitchen or bedroom.

Across all participants, 11 benefits of having indoor plants were reported.

Half the respondents described the aesthetic appeal of indoor plants. Comments included that indoor plants were “nice to look at”, “soften rooms” and “add colour”. Participants also reported air quality benefits, and that they found indoor plants calming.

Other less commonly reported benefits were that the plants helped the respondents set habits, improved their physical health, provided distraction, relieved fatigue and had a pleasant smell.

4 types of relationships with indoor plants

Our research identified four types of relationships people have with their indoor plants:

1. Highly connected (14% of respondents)

These people typically described a deep personal connection to their plants. Comments included:

They are like my children. (male, 28)

I often water them and take care of them as family members. (female, 26)

Well I cried over my plants leaf getting broken off today, so you could say I’m pretty attached to her. (female, 21)

I feel terrible if one dies, I feel as though I have let it down and generally bury it in the garden. (female, 34)

2. Engaged (42% of respondents)

These people enjoyed and tended to their plants, but without deep emotional attachment. For example:

Watering them and watching them grow is exciting, I feel proud to keep them alive so long (female, 22)

I get sad when one dies or is looking droopy, I feel happy when they look alive and freshly watered. (female, 22)

3. Limited engagement (23%)

These respondents enjoyed having indoor plants but spent minimal time caring for them and reported little emotional connection to them. One participant said:

Feel like indoor plants are fine but through our large windows we can see our outdoor plants and that’s more important to us. (female, 45)

4. No relationship (12%)

Participants who did not have a relationship with their indoor plants said:

Hardly watered it as it’s a succulent. (male, 21)

They are all gifts rather than something I’ve gone out to buy. (male, 21)

(For the remaining 9% of participants, their responses to the question of their relationship with house plants were invalid and not included.)

Unlocking the potential of indoor plants

Our research suggests indoor plants can enrich our lives in ways we are only beginning to understand.

It’s important to note that data for our study were collected in 2020, during the COVID-19 pandemic. This context may have influenced our results. For example, some participants may have felt particularly connected to their indoor plants because their access to outdoor green space was curtailed. So, further research is needed in the post-pandemic context.

Human–nature relationships are an emerging field of research. By understanding the relationship between people and plants, we may help unlock the potential for nature to improve our health and wellbeing.

Brianna Le Busque, Lecturer in Environmental Science, University of South Australia

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

Australians waste around 7.68 million tonnes of food a year. This costs the economy an estimated A$36.6 billion and households up to $2,500 annually.

Much of this food is wasted at home. So while consumers are increasingly aware of sustainability issues, awareness does not always translate into better food management in practice.

Our previous research revealed people differ in the ways they generate and dispose of food waste.

Our latest study takes a closer look at two groups who care deeply about food, for different reasons. It exposes a paradox: people who prioritise healthy eating waste less food, while those focused on sustainability do not necessarily follow through with waste reduction.

This suggests encouraging healthier eating habits might be a better way to cut household food waste than sustainability messaging alone.

Sustainability awareness doesn’t always mean less waste

To understand how food values influence waste, we surveyed 1,030 Australian consumers living in Adelaide between April and May 2021. We set quotas for age, sex and household income to match national demographics.

We wanted to find out who wasted more food: nutrition-conscious or sustainability-conscious consumers?

We asked each person how they plan meals and shop, what they value when buying food, and how much food they throw away each week.

Our results show nutrition-conscious consumers tend to plan meals in advance, use shopping lists and avoid over-purchasing. These behaviours contribute to both a healthier diet and less food waste.

We found consumers who make more nutrition-conscious food choices tended to waste less edible food. A one-point increase on our nutrition scale corresponded to a 17.6% reduction in food waste, compared to people with lower scores on the nutrition scale.

On the other hand, those who prioritise sustainability over nutrition did not show any significant reduction in edible food waste.

These consumers tend to choose environmentally friendly products. They typically prefer to shop locally, buy organic produce and avoid excessive food packaging. But that does not necessarily translate into waste-reducing behaviours.

Those concerned with sustainability tend to buy more food than they need. They have good intentions, but lack strategies to manage and consume the food efficiently. Unfortunately this means sustainably sourced food often ends up in landfill.

Integrating nutrition and food waste messaging

Our research reveals a disconnect between purchasing choices and what actually happens to the food at home.

This highlights an opportunity for policymakers and campaigns aimed at reducing food waste. Rather than focusing solely on sustainability, including messages about improving nutrition can boost health and reduce food waste at the same time.

Some successful interventions already demonstrate the potential of this approach. For example, an Australian school-based program found children involved in preparing their own meals wasted less food than they did before the program began.

These students learned about food waste and healthy eating, participated in workshops on meal preparation and composting, and helped pack their own lunches – with less food waste as a result.

5 ways to reduce food waste

So, what can households do to reduce food waste while maintaining a healthy diet? Our research suggests the following key strategies:

1. plan ahead – creating a weekly meal plan and shopping list helps prevent impulse purchases and ensures food is consumed before it spoils

2. buy only what you need – over-purchasing, even of sustainable products, can lead to unnecessary waste

3. store food properly – understanding how to store fresh produce, dairy, and leftovers can significantly extend their shelf life

4. prioritise nutrition – choosing foods that fit into a balanced diet naturally leads to better portion control and mindful consumption, reducing waste

5. use what you have – before shopping, check your fridge and pantry to incorporate existing ingredients into meals.

Reducing waste is a bonus

People are often more motivated by personal health benefits than abstract environmental concerns. Our research suggests this is the key to reducing household food waste.

Encouraging meal planning for a balanced diet, careful shopping to avoid over-purchasing, and proper food storage, can make a big difference to the amount of food being wasted. This will not only help households save thousands of dollars each year, but also promote healthy eating habits.

Ultimately, developing a more sustainable food system is not just about buying the right products. It’s about how we manage, prepare and consume them.

Trang Nguyen, Postdoctoral Research Fellow, Centre for Global Food and Resources, University of Adelaide; Jack Hetherington, Grant-funded Researcher, University of Adelaide, and Patrick O'Connor, Professor in Natural Resource Economics, University of Adelaide

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

The Isle of Man government has said it is “fully committed to environmental protection and transparency” regarding its Unesco biosphere status – despite admitting that legacy landfill sites are discharging hazardous chemical contaminants into the sea.

The Isle of Man is a self-governing island in the Irish Sea between the UK and and Ireland. It is not part of the UK or the European Union, but has the status of “crown dependency” with an independent administration. Its population of about 84,000 people are British citizens.

It is known as the home of TT motorbike racing, traditional smoked kippers, a low tax economy, and the entire island is designated a Unesco biosphere reserve. It boasts crystal clear waters, top-class dive sites and a thriving marine life.

The Isle of Man achieved this highly regarded status in 2016 on the basis of its marine habitats and sustainability strategies.

But polychlorinated biphenols (PCBs) – synthetic industrial chemicals once used to make electricals and other materials – continue to be released into the waterways and the sea.

Although the production of PCBs was banned globally in the 1980s, they still exist in many products, like electrical equipment, much of which lingers in landfills and so they continue to pose a risk to ocean health. Research has shown how legacy contaminants such as PCBs can be released from hundreds of thousands of coastal landfills across Europe – and the Isle of Man is no different.

Evidence has been accumulating for years about PCB discharges on the Isle of Man and much of it is on the government’s own website.

For example, 4,000 tonnes of toxic silt from harbour dredging – which included PCBs and heavy metals was dumped in the Irish sea in 2014. This “trial dump” was despite environmental and legal advice from its marine monitoring officer that this would be ignoring international agreements and would be damaging to the environment.

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Then in 2015 – a time when it would have been putting together its Unesco application – the island government compiled a document, titled “the Peel Marina silt questions and answers” in which it discussed further toxic waste dumping options. It states:

Disposing of 18,000 tonnes of contaminated sediments from the marina directly to the sea bed would have had a negative impact on the species involved. Testing carried out by Defa [Department of Environment, Food and Agriculture] officers had already identified the likelihood that earlier disposal of 4,000 tonnes into the sea had contributed to rises in contaminants within commercial fisheries species to levels approaching EU food safety standards.

That batch of 18,000 tonnes of contaminated silt, collected after harbour dredging in Peel harbour, was eventually moved to a sealed pit.

But it is the ongoing situation with legacy landfills which is seeing PCBs continuing to leach into the sea – a situation that the island government admits will not be entirely solved until the construction of a wastewater treatment plant (building is due to start on the plant in April 2025).

‘A hidden gem’

The Isle of Man government leans heavily on its biosphere status across its tourism marketing and brands itself as “extraordinary”, a “hidden gem, an unexplored land, a biosphere nation”.

But despite its pledges of being a destination with a “fantastic seascape…and coastline”, contaminated leachate from decommissioned landfill continues to drain into the marine environment.

The Isle of Man applied for the biosphere reserve status in 2013, which was awarded in 2016 based on the submission of a comprehensive 250-page nomination document. But there was no mention of toxic landfill leachate or the dumping of thousands of tonnes of contaminated harbour silt which later came to light.

The Isle of Man government told The Conversation that Unesco was aware of the discharges and that “biosphere status is not a hallmark of perfection”. It said its PCB discharges are in line with those of the UK.

But it raises the question of whether such pollution can be in line with the spirit of the biosphere status.

It is important to be clear that the Isle of Man is not unique in the British Islands in having managed disposal or unintentional discharges of legacy industrial wastes to the sea.

My team’s research (Patrick Byrne’s) documents thousands of coastal landfills in England and Wales, many of which discharge hazardous materials to the sea through leachates or erosion.

A Unesco biosphere reserve is not supposed to be perfect – almost nowhere is. But it should be a model for how we protect and sustainably manage our environment, including how we address legacy pollution. Why not highlight the issue of legacy industrial wastes as a challenge to be met?

The Isle of Man government rejects the idea that it misrepresented any of the facts around its environmental credentials.

But when The Conversation put the details to Unesco, it said it had not been made aware of previous dumping of toxic silt containing PCBs in 2014 and added that the first time the issue was raised with them was “in late 2023”.

A spokesperson said: “At the time of the nomination, the International Committee of the Unesco Biosphere Programme was not aware of this issue.”

The government told The Conversation it included “all information relevant for consideration by Unesco” when it made its application, but said certain discharges were not in the “zonation area” and that “nowhere is perfect”.

The major concern is about being open and honest with the public and Unesco about the environmental challenges and potential human health concerns associated with legacy pollutants like PCBs. It is entirely possible that the Isle of Man’s Unesco status would still have been granted if Unesco had been fully aware about the dumping at sea.

Landfills

The Conversation spoke to Calum MacNeil, a freshwater scientist who worked for the Isle of Man government for 13 years. He now works for a research institute in New Zealand but has been flagging concerns about contamination from toxic silt. Together with his help, we spent months gathering all of the evidence, checking the facts and joining the dots between silt dredged from a harbour, landfills and sealed pits aimed at temporarily dealing with this legacy pollution.

On the Isle of Man, historic landfills dating back to the 1940s are unlined so they are not sealed. After heavy rain, pollutants can wash away and leach out into the surrounding environment.

One, called Raggatt landfill, is located 3.7 miles (6km) from the coast. It’s the size of several football pitches and when it rains, leachate (the landfill’s liquid discharge) that has been found to contain PCBs can “run off” the facility onto the nearby main road and the adjacent River Neb, eventually draining into the sea at Peel Bay.

According to a 2017 news report, the government stated that the leachate “does not pose a risk to people swimming in Peel Bay” because it’s diluted by seawater. MacNeil insists that this is “a crucial admission” because he believes that the government cannot scientifically prove that any public exposure to PCB contamination is ever safe.

MacNeil said: “I feel there needs to be international scientific and legal scrutiny of all of this. I believe both Unesco and the UK government’s Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (Defra) have a responsibility here as well given the international agreements involved and the biosphere designation. Given the biosphere status, surely the Isle of Man government should be acting not just to the letter of the law but in the spirit of the law.”

Regulations

While various international regulations govern levels of chemical contamination in leachate in and immediately around old landfills, the same rules do not apply to anything that is deliberately dumped or discharged directly into rivers or the sea.

Isle of Man legislation called the Water Pollution Act 1993 outlines that any discharge or dumping must abide by any and all relevant international agreements that apply to the Isle of Man.

MacNeil argues that the onus should be on the Isle of Man government to prove that any discharge of PCBs is legal under international agreements.

These include an agreement called Ospar (the Oslo-Paris convention for the protection of the marine environment for the north-east Atlantic) and the Basel convention which governs how nations, including the Isle of Man, should treat and dispose of hazardous waste in environmentally sound ways.

Tourism

Tourists and local residents swim all year round in bathing waters such as Peel Bay, and praise for this nation’s marine conservation achievements is vast. Last summer, the Isle of Man was even nominated for the “most desirable island in Europe” travel award hosted by magazine Wanderlust.

With goals to grow annual visitor numbers to 500,000, a thriving ecotourism industry could contribute an estimated £520 million by 2032. According to the island’s tourism agency, Visit Isle of Man, it aims to be “a leading British ecotourism destination that provides a range of opportunities for visitors to connect with our unique nature and wildlife”.

But Peel is one of three beaches (technically designated as a non-bathing area) on the island to recently fail minimum standards for bathing waters “due to insufficient infrastructure”, according to the 2024 bathing water report from the Isle of Man’s Department of Environment, Food and Agriculture (Defa).

A desirable designation

A board is currently being formed to lead the ten-year periodic review (reaccreditation) of the island’s Unesco status.

As one 2022 study explains, biosphere reserves are “learning sites for sustainable development”. Researchers point out that a coherent and holistic approach on the Isle of Man is not necessarily easy to achieve, in part because the biosphere is managed by one government department (Defa) with a remit for environment, food and agriculture, resulting in “age-old tensions between farming and conservation”.

The Isle of Man government’s website states: “Our biosphere status encourages us to learn about and cherish what we have in the Isle of Man and safeguard it for the future by making good decisions, as individuals, as organisations and as an island. It tells potential new residents and visitors that we are a special place for people and nature and have a conscience.”

But without openly acknowledging the legacy pollution challenges, they are literally being buried for future generations. This ultimately undermines local, national, and international efforts to learn and move forward in a sustainable way, which is at the heart of the Unesco biosphere philosophy.

A spokesperson for the Isle of Man government said:

“The Isle of Man government remains fully committed to environmental protection and transparency regarding its Unesco Biosphere status. We reject any assertion that the government has acted to misrepresent environmental matters in its Unesco application.

"All relevant data and policies have been developed in line with scientific evidence and regulatory frameworks. The Isle of Man government conducts rigorous environmental monitoring, including assessments of water quality and potential contaminants, to ensure compliance with established safety standards.

"The Isle of Man has legacy landfill sites similar to those found in the UK, Europe and around the world which leach contaminants, including PCBs, into the marine environment. Details of PCB discharges from UK landfills can be found on the UK Pollutant Release and Transfer Register (PRTR) data sets where the pollutant threshold below which data is not required to be submitted for PCBs in water is stated as 0.1kg.

"The level of PCBs entering the marine environment in the Isle of Man is slightly lower than the average throughout the Irish Sea as determined by sediment and biota samples.

"The leachate discharge from the historic Raggatt landfill, which closed in 1990, is planned to be discharged to Peel Wastewater Treatment Plant which has recently received planning permission and construction expected to commence by April 2025.

"As stated on the Department of Environment, Food and Agriculture’s pollution control monitoring webpage: ‘Independent advice from Phoenix Engineering is that this would represent the best available technology to manage and control emissions of PCBs present in Raggatt landfill leachate to the marine environment in Peel.’

"Due to historic mining, heavy metals such as lead are known to flow down the river and accumulate in silt at Peel Marina, which has previously exceeded Cefas action level 2 where sediments are considered unacceptable for uncontrolled disposal at sea without special handling and containment. No further deposits to sea of Peel dredging silt have been made since 2014, and a catchment management plan is currently being developed to reduce this contamination at Peel Marina.

"The aim for all Unesco Biospheres is to improve our environment; something which the Isle of Man has consistently strived to achieve since accreditation in 2016.”

A spokesperson for Unesco said:

“Unesco first received information on this issue in late 2023, which was then relayed to the relevant government authorities for comments. Unesco was informed that the situation appeared to stem from the presence of a UK historic landfill which is being followed through a comprehensive monitoring programme.

"Following Unesco’s request, the UK Department for Environment, Food & Rural Affairs confirmed that ‘it is in line with the UK government’s responsibilities under the Ospar convention, and are satisfied the Isle of Man government is taking all possible steps to prevent and eliminate pollution of PCBs from land-based sources entering the marine environment in line with Article 3 of the Ospar convention’.

"In the original application dossier, the Isle of Man committed to ‘take responsibility for overseeing salvage and pollution counter-measures in order to comply with international conventions’. It also committed to observing a range of multilateral environmental agreements (MEAs).

"As the Isle of Man Biosphere Reserve was designated in 2016, its periodic review is scheduled for 2026. Unesco will make all information available to the Intergovernmental Committee in charge of examining the renewal of the status.”

For you: more from our Insights series:

• Inside Porton Down: what I learned during three years at the UK’s most secretive chemical weapons laboratory

• The overshoot myth: you can’t keep burning fossil fuels and expect scientists of the future to get us back to 1.5°C

• We found over 300 million young people had experienced online sexual abuse and exploitation over the course of our meta-study

• ‘There has never been a more dangerous time to take drugs’: the rising global threat of nitazenes and synthetic opioids

To hear about new Insights articles, join the hundreds of thousands of people who value The Conversation’s evidence-based news. Subscribe to our newsletter.

Anna Turns, Senior Environment Editor, The Conversation and Patrick Byrne, Professor of Water Science, Liverpool John Moores University

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

The production and use of toxic synthetic chemicals called polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) were banned internationally more than 40 years ago. There is a great deal of evidence that they are carcinogens and hormone disrupters in mammals and can cause birth defects.

PCBs can build up in the tissues in increasing amounts over time (bioaccumulate) in long-lived animals and people exposed to them. They also biomagnify in the environment meaning they build up in food chains – smaller animals take them into their tissues, those are then eaten by larger animals (such as fish), which themselves are eaten by humans and marine mammals such as dolphins and seals living in Britain’s waters.

Despite these risks, the Isle of Man government – by its own admission – has been dumping toxic silt containing PCBs into the waters of Peel Bay and unlined landfills over the past decade. This is despite the fact these waters have been declared a Unesco biosphere.

Here, Patrick Byrne, Professor of Water Science at Liverpool John Moores University, questions freshwater scientist Calum MacNeil about why he thinks it is so important that the world, and particularly Unesco, takes notice about what’s being dumped into the sea around the Isle of Man.

When did you live on the Isle of Man and what was your exact role?

I lived on the Isle of Man for nearly 15 years (2004 – 2019) and left at the end of 2019.

From 2004 – 2007, I was the Isle of Man government’s freshwater biologist. From 2007 – 2017, I was the freshwater biologist and enforcement officer, responsible for regulation and enforcement of environmental matters related to controlled waters (all inland waters and coastal waters).

Where is the Isle of Man and what is the Unesco status it has earned?

The Isle of Man is a small island in the middle of the Irish Sea, located almost an equal distance from England, Northern Ireland and Scotland. It is British but not part of the UK: it is a self-governing dependency of the British Crown with its own government and laws. It is not part of the EU but is signed up to various international agreements on the environment.

Unesco is the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation. It began the biosphere programme in 1991, concentrating on the care of land, sea and species, as well as culture, heritage, community and economy.

The Isle of Man was awarded Unesco biosphere status in 2016 after a lengthy process and a detailed application. Although the island is now one of over 750 biospheres worldwide, it is the world’s only “entire nation Unesco biosphere”.

According to the island government’s own fact sheet, biospheres have three functions: promoting sustainable development, conservation and learning. The sea makes up 87% of the Isle of Man Unesco biosphere.

Despite earning this status, evidence in the public domain shows that pollutants have been dumped into the sea. What’s been going on?

The Isle of Man government has been accused of deliberately dumping 4,000 tonnes of toxic silt from harbour dredging, which included synthetic industrial chemicals known as PCBs and heavy metals, in the Irish sea in 2014.

This trial dump, referred to on the Isle on Man’s own website, was despite environmental and legal advice from its marine monitoring officer that this would be ignoring international agreements and would be damaging to the environment.

Despite extensive evidence in the public domain, this dumping was not mentioned once in the biosphere nomination documents, dated 2015. The nation’s biosphere website says the nomination process was “several years” in the making and the Unesco biosphere designation occurred in 2016 – only a relatively short time after the deliberate dumping in the Irish Sea.

The government has also allegedly discharged toxic PCB-contaminated effluent – known as called leachate – from an old landfill, called the Raggatt, directly into Peel Bay, an area which has one of the most popular public beaches on the island. Peel is one of three beaches (technically designated as non-bathing areas) on the island that recently failed to meet minimum standards for bathing waters.

I wasn’t aware of the details of the sea dumping of toxic silt until June 2022 when the employment tribunal findings related to the Department of Environment, Food and Agriculture’s (Defa) ex-marine monitoring officer Kevin Kennington became public. This tribunal heard evidence that this was going on before, during and after the Unesco biosphere designation.

The Isle of Man is a signatory to the Oslo-Paris convention for the protection of the marine environment for the north-east Atlantic (Ospar). The convention specifies a maximum level of marine contaminants.

A decade on from its initial application, the Isle of Man is currently bidding to renew its Unesco Biosphere status in 2026.

The Insights section is committed to high-quality longform journalism. Our editors work with academics from many different backgrounds who are tackling a wide range of societal and scientific challenges.

While all of this was going on, the Isle of Man has been promoting its Unesco biosphere status as a marketing tool and it was receiving a lot of favourable media attention on how it was protecting its marine environment and beaches.

There does appear to be a lack of monitoring, at least in the public domain. Given the serious nature of the contaminants, I would expect the environmental regulator to monitor any PCBs detected in the environment and fully inform the public of any exposure risk.

The disposal of thousands of tonnes of contaminated silt into biodiverse waters could have had a serious negative impact on that bid. So, how did you discover that all was not as it seemed with the marine biosphere status?

Shortly after resigning from my post in 2017, I read an article in the local media about how the attorney general of the Isle of Man (the government’s senior legal advisor) believed it might be in the public interest to hold a full investigation into the discharging of potentially toxic material retrieved from an old landfill site that was being transported by tankers and taken to the sea. There were a number of statements made in that article that I found very concerning, such as the two below:

The then Environment Minister Richard Ronan told the House of Keys [the parliament of the Isle of Man] in July last year that levels of a range of metals, ammonia, polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons (PAHs) and 225 polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) identified in the leachate exceed environmental quality standards, making it unsuitable for direct discharge into the River Neb.

The government said the leachate is subject to a large degree of dilution [as] it enters the sea. Samples are analysed regularly and the leachate “does not pose a risk to people swimming in Peel bay”.

To be clear, I knew at the time of reading this article in 2017 that there was no UK or EU environmental quality standard to legally allow a deliberate discharge of PCBs into either freshwaters (rivers and lakes) or to the sea. I knew this because PCBs are massively hydrophobic (water-hating) – meaning you shouldn’t have them suspended in effluent anyway because all they want to do is settle out at the bottom of whatever they are suspended in as soon as possible.

So, if you can detect them suspended in actual effluent you should be very worried about how much is built up or buried in the sediment accompanying that effluent. I knew the deliberate discharge of this was internationally banned and that it shouldn’t be going on into rivers or the sea.

I was even more alarmed when the article quoted a government spokesperson saying the leachate “does not pose a risk to people swimming in Peel Bay”. The government needs to prove that statement legally and scientifically because in the US and Europe there is a “risk averse” approach to PCB release.

This story and the government’s response was very concerning to me as an internationally banned carcinogen was being discharged deliberately to Peel bay, a popular public beach area, while the public were being told it was fine, legal and safe. I didn’t see how this could possibly be legal as regards international agreements.

A few months later, I was concerned about further silt dredging at Peel bay and was curious how Defa as a regulator would deal with avoiding the risk of resuspending previously buried PCBs.

Ospar gives guidance on this, as this is important as PCBs remain toxic for decades and dredging could obviously further increase the risk to the public and environment – resuspending any PCBs that had been previously buried under layers of sediment for decades would result in releasing another source of PCBs into the bay.

Was anyone concerned about possible pollution at the time of the Unesco application?

The Isle of Man government says it spent a great deal of time on the nomination process and the publicly available nomination documents are long and detailed and Defa was heavily involved in the application process and the details provided so they would have to answer that.

I don’t know if any other scientists were raising a red flag at the time, but I do refer you to Kevin Kennington’s tribunal findings which involved dumping toxic silt at sea and Defa officers were aware of this dumping in 2014. None of this was mentioned in the nomination document as far as I have been able to ascertain.

The tribunal found the toxic silt exceeded Ospar guidelines.

When The Conversation put that to Isle of Man government, it did not accept it was in contravention of the rules. But a spokesperson for the UK regulator, Defra told us: “Defra’s internal analysis concluded that the incident constituted actions that were not in accordance with the Ospar convention (Articles 4, and Annex II Art 4) and the 1996 London protocol on the prevention of marine pollution by dumping of wastes and other matter.”

What laws are involved here?

The 252-page-long nomination forms refer to the Water Pollution Act 1993. This is an act that makes “new provision for the protection of inland and coastal waters from pollution, to control deposits in the sea and for connected purposes”.

Some EU legislation is also applied to the Isle of Man, such as Ospar (the convention for protection of the marine environment of the north-east Atlantic) and the Basel convention which governs how nations, including the Isle of Man, should treat and dispose of hazardous waste, including PCBs, in an environmentally sound way.

What are the most worrying impacts of the pollution here?

The dumping in the Irish sea is obviously very worrying, not just for the Isle of Man. PCBs can travel long distances and are toxic for decades.

In my view, the deliberate tanker discharge of PCBs to Peel bay is extremely worrying from both an environmental and public health risk perspective, as is the dredging up of PCB contaminated silt in Peel harbour.

I’m alarmed by the fact that the Isle of Man government decided that it was not in the public interest to pursue the case for the discharge into the sea, given that international agreements were broken.

What needs to change in terms of governance and law enforcement?

I feel there needs to be international scientific and legal scrutiny of all of this. I believe both Unesco and the UK government’s Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (Defra) have a responsibility here as well given the international agreements involved and the biosphere designation. Given the biosphere status surely the Isle of Man government should be acting not just to the letter of the law but the spirit of the law.

What should a biosphere reserve really look like and what needs to change?

Ideally, the government in the world’s only all-nation Unesco biosphere would fully abide by its own principles and pledges and adhere to international agreements.

For instance, the Isle of Man government set its own environmental quality standards (EQS) for PCBs – now, those won’t be breached by the levels of existing discharges. EQS values for soil, sediment, freshwater and marine environments are derived from years of research showing the maximum concentrations (or quality standards) that cannot be exceeded in order to protect human and environmental health.

As far as I’m aware, there is still no EQS for PCBs in effluent agreed to by the EU. There are PCB guidelines for sediment and biota (animals and plants) at the end of pipelines but these are more concerned with monitoring legacy historic sources of PCBs. I don’t know legally how the Isle of Man was able to do this despite international laws.

The Isle of Man government should be taking a far more precautionary approach to PCBs and potential public exposure, environmental damage and public health risk. They should be doing this anyway, but in the world’s only entire nation Unesco biosphere, I think the moral and legal onus is on them to prove what they are doing is safe. If they are saying it is safe, they obviously need to prove it. I think the onus is also on Unesco to check what is going on in their only all-nation biosphere, especially in the “care” areas of that biosphere.

Calum MacNeil raises some important questions about the very nature of Unesco biosphere status and about the safety of the waters in and around the Isle of Man. The public has a right to clear answers and information. Here are some of the key issues from my perspective as a water scientist.

Long-term health effects

The point about PCB sorption to sediments is a good one. An important study from 2019 estimated that 75% of all PCBs manufactured since 1930 now reside in marine sediment. Marine sediment is literally the waste bin for PCBs. Dilution in rivers is commonly used as a convenient way of masking the mass transport of chemicals through rivers and ultimately to the oceans. So, yes, dilution decreases concentrations locally, but it does not reduce the volume of chemicals transported to or disposed of at sea.

The PCB discharge to Peel bay has been going on since the 1990s which is worrying given possible long-term public health risks and environmental impacts. Some of the metabolites may leave your body in a few days, but others may remain in your body fat for months. Unchanged PCBs may also remain in your body and be stored for years mainly in the fat and liver, but smaller amounts can be found in other organs as well. Once in our bodies, they can have toxic long-term health effects. Some are associated with fertility issues and they are classed as probable human carcinogens.

Persistence in the environment

Since the 1970’s, the gradual phasing out and banning of PCBs has led to dramatic reductions in their release into the environment. However, despite this, PCBs remain one of the biggest chemical threats to humans and wildlife worldwide. Why is this? Well, we know PCBs are very persistent in the environment, which means they last for decades to hundreds of years. Because of this persistence, they accumulate in living things and we know that at certain concentrations they can be very harmful to us.

It is also because of the widely held belief that “dilution is the solution to pollution”. Sure, dilution of effluent in a river reduces concentrations locally and might allow a government or an industry to meet an environmental quality guideline.

But where have the pollutants gone? They have not disappeared - remember PCBs may persist for hundreds of years. They have gone out to sea where they accumulate in sediments and living things. And we see the evidence and impacts of this all around us. For example, PCBs and other harmful chemicals are routinely detected in apex predators like orcas and whales and polar bears and we know this is negatively impacting their physiology and reproductive health.

PCBs have been detected in the Arctic and Antarctica and even in the Mariana trench in the deep ocean. This is the cumulative result of decades of PCB discharge into the seas from all around the world. We cannot do anything about PCBs that are already in the sea, but with everything we now know about how harmful and long-lasting these chemicals are, we really cannot knowingly continue discharging them into the sea.

For you: more from our Insights series:

• Inside Porton Down: what I learned during three years at the UK’s most secretive chemical weapons laboratory

• The overshoot myth: you can’t keep burning fossil fuels and expect scientists of the future to get us back to 1.5°C

• We found over 300 million young people had experienced online sexual abuse and exploitation over the course of our meta-study

• ‘There has never been a more dangerous time to take drugs’: the rising global threat of nitazenes and synthetic opioids

To hear about new Insights articles, join the hundreds of thousands of people who value The Conversation’s evidence-based news. Subscribe to our newsletter.

Patrick Byrne, Professor of Water Science, Liverpool John Moores University

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