For decades, scientists, policymakers, graziers and land managers have been locked in a surprisingly high-stakes debate over what defines a dingo. Are these wild canids their own species? Or are they simply feral dogs?

The intensity of the debate can seem baffling. But the naming of animals influences how they are perceived and managed. The dingo debate has very real consequences for conservation laws, cultural recognition and respect, and the future of one of Australia’s iconic animals.

In 2020, researchers proposed four conditions dingoes would have to meet to be considered separate from domestic dogs: reproductive isolation (they don’t mate and produce fertile offspring), genetic distinctiveness, independent evolutionary path and distinctiveness from South-East Asian village dogs, which superficially resemble dingoes.

In our new research, we lay out the scientific case showing dingoes do indeed meet these requirements, across genetic, behavioural, ecological and archaeological evidence. We now have a clear answer: dingoes are distinct.

Australia’s wild canines have been on their own evolutionary path for thousands of years. As a distinct lineage, they should be recognised in their own right as a species or subspecies. They are not Canis familiaris, the domestic dog. They should be named either Canis dingo or Canis lupus dingo.

Species aren’t always in neat boxes

One of the greatest challenges for modern taxonomy is how to categorise “species” that don’t fit in neat little boxes but exist along a continuum.

It’s harder still for species whose long and significant associations with humans can lead to substantial changes that are evolutionarily significant.

It’s widely accepted domestic and wild animal populations should be distinguished and be given different scientific names. Domestication is often portrayed as a simple before-and-after event. But this isn’t accurate.

Domestication is a long, messy continuum. Some domesticated species such as cattle and modern dog breeds depend on humans for their survival. But dingoes are different. They have lived alongside people but are also entirely capable of surviving without us, and have done so for thousands of years.

In evolutionary terms, what matters is the trajectory. Did human contact fundamentally alter the appearance, biology and behaviour of the species, locking it into a domestic lifestyle? Or did human influence have little effect, meaning the species has been shaped primarily by natural selection in the wild?

Do dingoes meet the criteria to be considered taxonomically distinct?

Our research shows how the four conditions have been met to consider dingoes separate:

1. Reproductive isolation

Dingoes have been separated from other Canis lineages for 8,000-11,000 years. Genetic studies show dingoes have little contemporary interbreeding with domestic dogs, even when they live in the same areas. While all Canis species can interbreed and produce fertile offspring, differences in breeding seasons and behaviour act as natural barriers. Unlike dingoes, domestic dogs rarely establish wild, self-sustaining populations.

2. Genetic distinctiveness

Genome-wide analyses reveal dingoes descend from an ancient “eastern” dog lineage, while most modern domestic dogs come from “western” and “Arctic” dog lineages. Since their arrival in Australia, dingoes have remained genetically isolated.

3. An independent evolutionary lineage

From a genetic point of view, dingoes are more distinct from domestic dogs than domestic dog breeds are from each other. Modern dog breeds have undergone waves of mixing and human selection, while dingoes have not. This is why dingoes lack the genetic adaptations to starch-rich diets that domestic dogs evolved alongside agriculture and human contact.

Dingoes have carved out their own ecological niche in Australia’s unique environments, from deserts to snowy mountains. They have developed separate traits such as hyperflexible joints and a single breeding season over autumn and winter. By contrast, humans have heavily shaped the evolutionary path of domestic dogs, making them reliant on us.

4. Clear up whether dogs found in South-East Asia are dingoes

Some researchers have suggested dingo-like village dogs in South-East Asia are actually dingoes. While dingoes share some ancestors with these dogs, modern genetic evidence shows dingoes and their closest relatives, New Guinea singing dogs, are a separate population.

What’s in a name?

The question over how dogs evolved is not yet resolved. Some taxonomists believe dogs are a subspecies of wolf, while others disagree. Given this uncertainty, giving dingoes a unique scientific name can be done in two ways.

If we consider dingoes distinct from both dogs and wolves, the most appropriate name would be Canis dingo — recognising the dingo as its own species with a long, separate evolutionary history.

But if dingoes are not distinct from wolves, the correct name would be Canis lupus dingo. This would treat it as a subspecies of wolf, while still acknowledging its wild lineage separate to domestic dogs.

The name of the dingo matters

There is real power in the name of a species.

Under some state laws, dingoes are defined as “wild dogs”. This means dingoes are targeted for lethal control – even in many national parks. If treated as a domestic dog, dingoes can be ineligible for official threatened species lists.

As a result, the species is often overlooked for targeted conservation, while its culturally significant role for many First Nations peoples is often not recognised nor respected.

Defining dingoes as a distinct species or subspecies would allow governments to differentiate them from domestic dogs in laws, policies and conservation programs, and align western science with First Nations knowledge holders who have long distinguished between dingoes and dogs.

Ending decades of confusion will take work

To clear up long-running disagreement over the dingo, we believe the time has come for an independent, evidence-based review by a national scientific body. This would bring together geneticists, ecologists, taxonomists and First Nations representatives.

This approach helped untangle similarly knotty problems overseas, such as the United States National Academies’ review to settle the taxonomy of red and Mexican wolves.

An Australian review could finally end decades of confusion for the dingo and ensure our laws reflect the most up-to-date scientific evidence.

Taxonomic debates might sound obscure. But this naming question will shape the future of one of Australia’s ecologically and culturally significant animals.

We believe the evidence shows the dingo is not a domestic dog – it’s on its own path. The question is whether Australia can accept this evidence.

Kylie M. Cairns, Research fellow in canid and wildlife genomics, UNSW Sydney; Bradley Smith, Senior Lecturer in Psychology, CQUniversity Australia; Euan Ritchie, Professor in Wildlife Ecology and Conservation, School of Life & Environmental Sciences, Deakin University, and Thomas Newsome, Associate Professor in Global Ecology, University of Sydney

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

Antarctica has long been seen as a remote, unchanging environment. Not any more.

The ice-covered continent and the surrounding Southern Ocean are undergoing abrupt and alarming changes. Sea ice is shrinking rapidly, the floating glaciers known as ice shelves are melting faster, the ice sheets carpeting the continent are approaching tipping points and vital ocean currents show signs of slowing down.

Published today in Nature, our new research shows these abrupt changes are already underway – and likely to significantly intensify in the future.

Several authors of this article have witnessed these startling changes during fieldwork on the ice. These changes spell bad news for wildlife, both iconic and lesser known. But the changes will reach much further. What’s happening in Antarctica right now will affect the world for generations to come, from rising sea levels to extreme changes in the climate system.

What is an abrupt change?

Scientists define an abrupt change as a climatic or environmental shift taking place much faster than expected.

What makes abrupt changes so concerning is they can amplify themselves. For example, melting sea ice allows oceans to warm more rapidly, which melts more sea ice. Once triggered, they can be difficult or even impossible to reverse on timescales meaningful to humans.

While it’s common to assume incremental warming will translate to gradual change, we’re seeing something very different in Antarctica. Over past decades, the Antarctic environment had a much more muted response overall to human-caused climate warming compared to the Arctic. But about a decade ago, abrupt changes began to occur.

Shrinking sea ice brings cascading change

Antarctica’s natural systems are tightly interwoven. When one system is thrown out of balance, it can trigger cascading effects in others.

Sea ice around Antarctica has been declining dramatically since 2014. The expanse of sea ice is now shrinking at double the rate of Arctic sea ice. We found these unfolding changes are unprecedented – far outside the natural variability of past centuries.

The implications are far reaching. Sea ice has a reflective, high-albedo surface which reflects heat back to space. When there’s less sea ice, more heat is absorbed by darker oceans. Emperor penguins and other species reliant on sea ice for habitat and breeding face real threats. Less sea ice also means Antarctica’s ice shelves are more exposed to waves.

Vital ocean currents are slowing

The melting of ice is actually slowing down the deep ocean circulation around Antarctica. This system of deep currents, known as the Antarctic Overturning Circulation, plays a critical role in regulating Earth’s climate by absorbing carbon dioxide and distributing heat.

In the northern hemisphere, the Atlantic Meridional Overturning Circulation is facing a slowdown.

We’re now observing a similar risk in Southern Ocean currents. Changes to the Antarctic Overturning Circulation may unfold at twice the rate of the more famous North Atlantic counterpart.

A slowdown could reduce how much oxygen and carbon dioxide the ocean absorbs and leave vital nutrients at the seafloor. Less oxygen and fewer nutrients would have major consequences for marine ecosystems and climate regulation.

Melting giants

The West Antarctic Ice Sheet as well as some regions of East Antarctica are now losing ice and contributing to sea level rise. Ice loss has increased sixfold since the 1990s.

The West Antarctic Ice Sheet alone has enough ice to raise global sea levels by more than five metres – and scientists warn we could be nearing the point where this ice sheet could collapse even without substantial further warming, though this might take centuries to millennia.

These enormous ice sheets represent the risk of a global tipping point. They contribute the greatest uncertainty to projections of future sea level rise because we don’t know just how quickly they could collapse.

Worldwide, at least 750 million people live in low-lying areas near the sea. Rising sea levels threaten coastal infrastructure and communities globally.

Wildlife and ecosystems under threat

Antarctica’s biological systems are also undergoing sudden shifts. Ecosystems both under the sea and on land are being reshaped by warming temperatures, unreliable ice conditions and human activity bringing pollution and the arrival of invasive species.

It’s essential to protect these ecosystems through the Antarctic Treaty, including creating protected areas of land and sea and restricting some human activities. But these conservation measures won’t be enough to ensure emperor penguins and leopard seals survive. That will require decisive global action to reduce greenhouse gas emissions.

Which future?

Antarctica is often seen as a symbol of isolation and permanence. But the continent is now changing with disturbing speed – much faster than scientists anticipated.

These abrupt changes stem largely from the extra heat trapped by decades of unchecked greenhouse gas emissions. The only way to avoid further abrupt changes is to slash emissions rapidly enough to hold warming as close to 1.5°C as possible.

Even if we achieve this, much change has already been set in motion. Governments, businesses and coastal communities must prepare for a future of abrupt change. What happens in Antarctica won’t stay there.

The stakes could not be higher. The choices made now will determine whether we face a future of worsening impacts and irreversible change or one of managed resilience to the changes already locked in.

Nerilie Abram, Chief Scientist, Australian Antarctic Division and Professor of Climate Science, Australian National University; Ariaan Purich, Senior Lecturer in Climate Science, Monash University; Felicity McCormack, Antarctic Research Fellow and Senior Lecturer, Monash University; Jan Strugnell, Professor of Marine Biology and Aquaculture, James Cook University, and Matthew England, Deputy Director of the ARC Australian Centre for Excellence in Antarctic Science and Scientia Professor in Oceanography, UNSW Sydney

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

Climate change is reshaping fish habitats. Some fish are winners, others are losing out.

Fish already face plenty of pressure from overfishing and pollution. Climate change is adding more: warmer waters and shifting food supplies cause what’s known as a predator-prey mismatch. This means prey and predator are not in the same place at the same time, which not only affects our diets but also fishing industries and ocean health more widely.

As the ocean heats up, fish try to stay in the conditions they’re best suited to. Some species will move, but others can’t relocate so easily – for example, if they need to live in a certain habitat at a particular life-stage, such as in kelp that offers shelter for breeding. So, depending on the species and location, climate change could create new fishing opportunities for some countries, and big losses for others.

Fisheries managers typically group fish into “stocks”. These are populations of the same species in a defined region, often based on national borders. But those human-made boundaries don’t matter to fish. As they shift in response to climate change, managing their populations will become more complex and will need to be flexible and responsive.

By 2050, waters around the UK are expected to warm by about 1°C if we follow a “moderate” emissions path. If emissions continue to rise unchecked, the increase could reach 2-3°C by the end of the century. At the same time, the food that fish eat (such as tiny plankton) could drop by as much as 30%.

My team and I used advanced computer modelling to predict how 17 key commercial species such as mackerel, cod, plaice, tuna and sardines might respond to two future climate scenarios. Our results show a patchwork of winners and losers.

Take sardines and mackerel. These species live in the upper ocean and are sensitive to temperature. Both are expected to shift northward. This shift would be around 20 miles in the North Sea and up to 80 miles in the north-east Atlantic by 2100 under a moderate emissions scenario.

While sardines may thrive, with a 10% boost in Atlantic abundance, our model suggests mackerel could decline by 10% in the Atlantic and 20% in the North Sea. Consequently, the type and quantity of fish available will change.

Warm-water species like bluefin tuna may benefit within UK waters. Tuna is projected to shift only slightly (by approximately 4 miles) under the same scenario, but their abundance could rise by 10%, potentially bringing more of them into UK waters. That’s good news for fishers already targeting this high-value catch, or those looking to change their main target species.

But bottom-dwelling species like cod and saithe (pollock) face a tougher future. These fish prefer colder, deeper waters and have fewer options to escape warming seas due to depth limitations.

In the North Sea, they’re projected to shift southward by around 9 miles because that’s where the remaining cool, deep water is. But this won’t be enough to avoid a significant decline in their numbers: their populations are expected to drop by 10-15% under a moderate scenario by 2050.

Do the seasons feel increasingly weird to you? You’re not alone. Climate change is distorting nature’s calendar, causing plants to flower early and animals to emerge at the wrong time.

This article is part of a series, Wild Seasons, on how the seasons are changing and what they may eventually look like.

Changing tides

And if climate change accelerates, the declines become far more severe. By the end of the century, North Sea cod and saithe could fall by 30-40%, according to our model. Mackerel abundance could drop by 25% in the Atlantic, while sardines might see only a modest 5% increase, despite moving 155 miles northward. Bluefin tuna could see a 40% rise in numbers, shifting 27 miles further north.

We’ve estimated how species will shift their locations – but computer models can’t account for every interaction between marine species. For example, predator-prey relationships can be crucial in shaping an ecosystem. Bluefin tuna is a predatory species which hunts shoals of herring, mackerel and other fish.

Other predators including dolphins, seals and seabirds will all be influenced differently by climate change, with varying responses in terms of eating their favourite fish snacks.

Our projections also don’t account for continued fishing pressure – for example, 24% of north-east Atlantic fisheries are not sustainable. Further overfishing will compound the strain on fish populations.

To keep stocks healthy, fishery managers need to start planning for these changes now by factoring climate into their stock assessments. Industry regulators will also need to reconsider who gets to fish where as species move.

Fish don’t carry passports. Their shifting habitats will challenge longstanding fishing agreements and quotas. Nations that once relied on particular species might lose access. Others may find new, unexpected opportunities.

With smart management and serious action on climate, seafood can thrive in the future. Doing nothing now isn’t an option — unless we want familiar favourites like cod to vanish from our plates.

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Sevrine Sailley, Senior Scientist, Marine Ecosystem Modelling, Plymouth Marine Laboratory

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

From Melbourne’s proposed Outer Metropolitan Ring Road to Sydney’s recently completed Westconnex, Australia’s addiction to mega roads continues despite the spectre of climate change.

The stream of projects shows Australia’s approach to urban transport is stuck in the car-obsessed past. It’s an approach at odds with state planning policies that prioritise other less-polluting transport modes, such as train and tram extensions, bike lane infrastructure and better pedestrian footpaths.

As the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) has warned, roads hinder national efforts to meet climate targets. They “lock in” emissions, by establishing long-term infrastructure that commits societies to greenhouse gas emissions for decades to come.

Expanding freeway networks undermines efforts to reduce emissions and encourage cleaner transport. It points to a deep-seated flaw in Australia’s urban planning systems which must be solved.

No road to net zero

Australia has committed to reach net zero greenhouse emissions by 2050.

Meeting the goal requires, among other measures, dealing with greenhouse gas emissions from transport – which is set to become the nation’s largest source of emissions by 2030.

Globally, roads account for 69% of transport emissions, and this is growing.

Despite this, a number of mega roads are planned or being built in Australian cities. They include:

• Sydney’s M12 Motorway
• Brisbane’s Gateway Motorway and Bruce Highway upgrades
• Adelaide’s River Torrens to Darlington Project
• Perth’s Tonkin Highway Extension and Thomas Road Upgrade
• Melbourne’s Outer Metropolitan Ring Road.

Here, we examine the Melbourne project in more detail.

Melbourne’s mega ring road

The Outer Metropolitan Ring Road would involve a 100-kilometre freeway orbiting Melbourne’s north and west. With a current price tag of A$31 billion, it would be among the most expensive road projects in an Australian city.

In 2009, the Brumby Labor government in Victoria deemed the project could proceed without an “environmental effects statement” – including assessment of it climate impacts.

Rationales for the decision included that the project passes through land extensively disturbed in the past, and because sustainability implications had been considered in overarching state planning blueprints.

It is unclear whether, given the time that has lapsed, whether the project will be reconsidered for environmental approval – and if so, what level of scrutiny would be applied.

Given the project’s potential contribution to transport emissions, authorities should reverse the exemption and ensure it is subject to the highest environmental scrutiny. This is vital to ensure the public is fully aware of – and can object to – the project’s climate impacts.

Our research has previously identified such issues involving public consultation and major road projects. They include Melbourne’s East West Link and West Gate Tunnel, and Sydney’s Westconnex . In the case of Westconnex, the “public interest” was narrowly defined and inadequate in addressing climate change concerns.

A 2017 Victorian Auditor-General Report also found a power imbalance between project proponents and community participants. For instance, proponents usually had legal representation while community members did not.

What’s more, emissions reduction must be central to the policies governing Australia’s built environments, as we discuss below.

Climate must be key

Residents in Australia’s capital cities are largely car-dependent. More climate-friendly transport modes, such as walking and cycling, can be difficult due to long distances between destinations, and lack of supporting infrastructure such as bike paths.

The IPCC recommends minimising emissions generated in cities through:

• infill development (building on unused land in urban areas)
• increasing density (the number of people living in a certain area)
• improving public transport
• supporting walking, cycling and other “active” transport options.

State planning blueprints in Australia typically consider land use and transport together. Victoria, for example, wants more homes built in established areas, close to public transport, services and jobs. Transport plans in states such as NSW and Queensland have similar goals.

However, the need for climate action and emissions reduction is typically not fully integrated across these policies. And federal government guidelines on transport planning also give little regard to net zero targets.

This means major road projects can proceed without direct consideration of emissions reduction and net zero goals.

A different road

Urban planning policies are not the only government levers available to reduce vehicle emissions.

The federal government’s fuel efficiency standards, for example, began in January this year. But some experts say the policy – which is weaker than that initially proposed – does not go far enough to cut transport emissions.

Separately, the National Electric Vehicle Strategy is a positive step. But Australia is badly lagging in EV uptake, and much more work is needed.

As Australian cities continue to grow, the demand for travel will also increase. But new freeway projects are not the answer – they will only make climate change worse.

Reform is needed to ensure emissions reduction is at the heart of transport investment in our cities.

Crystal Legacy, Associate Professor of Urban Planning, The University of Melbourne; Anna Hurlimann, Associate Professor in Urban Planning, The University of Melbourne, and Eric Keys, PhD Candidate, Centre for Urban Research, RMIT University

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

In 1770, after Captain Cook’s Endeavour struck the Great Barrier Reef and was held up for repairs, botanists Joseph Banks and Daniel Solander collected hundreds of plants.

One of those pressed plants is among 170,000 specimens in the herbarium at the University of Melbourne.

Worldwide, more than 395 million specimens are housed in herbaria. Together they comprise an unparalleled record of Earth’s plant and fungal life over time.

We wanted to find a better, faster way to tap into this wealth of information. Our new research describes the development and testing of a new AI-driven tool Hespi (short for “herbarium specimen sheet pipeline”). It has the potential to revolutionise access to biodiversity data and open up new avenues for research.

The digitisation challenge

To unlock the full potential of herbaria, institutions worldwide are striving to digitise them. This means photographing each specimen at high resolution and converting the information on its label into searchable digital data.

Once digitised, specimen records can be made available to the public through online databases such as the University of Melbourne Herbarium Collection Online. They are also fed into large biodiversity portals such as the Australasian Virtual Herbarium, the Atlas of Living Australia, or the Global Biodiversity Information Facility. These platforms make centuries of botanical knowledge accessible to researchers everywhere.

But digitisation is a monumental task. Large herbaria, such as the National Herbarium of New South Wales and the Australian National Herbarium have used high-capacity conveyor belt systems to rapidly image millions of specimens. Even with this level of automation, digitising the 1.15 million specimens at the National Herbarium of NSW took more than three years.

For smaller institutions without industrial-scale setups, the process is far slower. Staff, volunteers and citizen scientists photograph specimens and painstakingly transcribe their labels by hand.

At the current pace, many collections won’t be fully digitised for decades. This delay keeps vast amounts of biodiversity data locked away. Researchers in ecology, evolution, climate science and conservation urgently need access to large-scale, accurate biodiversity datasets. A faster approach is essential.

How AI is speeding things up

To address this challenge, we created Hespi – open-source software for automatically extracting information from herbarium specimens.

Hespi combines advanced computer vision techniques with AI tools such as object detection, image classification and large language models.

First, it takes an image of the specimen sheet which comprises the pressed plant and identifying text. Then it recognises and extracts text, using a combination of optical character recognition and handwritten text recognition.

Deciphering handwriting is challenging for people and computers alike. So Hespi passes the extracted text through OpenAI’s GPT-4o Large Language Model to correct any errors. This substantially improves the results.

So in seconds, Hespi locates the main specimen label on a herbarium sheet and reads the information it contains. This includes taxonomic names, collector details, location, latitude and longitude, and collection dates. It captures the data and converts it into a digital format, ready for use in research.

For example, Hespi correctly detected and extracted all relevant components from the herbarium sheet below. This large brown algae specimen was collected in 1883 at St Kilda.

We tested Hespi on thousands of specimen images from the University of Melbourne Herbarium and other collections worldwide. We created test datasets for different stages in the pipeline and assessed the various components.

It achieved a high degree of accuracy. So it has the potential to save a lot of time, compared to manual data extraction.

We are developing a graphical user interface for the software so herbarium curators will be able to manually check and correct the results.

Just the beginning

Herbaria already contribute to society in many ways: from species identification and taxonomy to ecological monitoring, conservation, education, and even forensic investigations.

By mobilising large volumes of specimen-associated data, AI systems such as Hespi are enabling new and innovative applications at a scale never before possible.

AI has been used to automatically extract detailed leaf measurements and other traits from digitised specimens, unlocking centuries of historical collections for rapid research into plant evolution and ecology.

And this is just the beginning — computer vision and AI could soon be applied in many other ways, further accelerating and expanding botanical research in the years ahead.

Beyond herbaria

AI pipelines such as Hespi have the potential to extract text from labels in any museum or archival collection where high-quality digital images exist.

Our next step is a collaboration with Museums Victoria to adapt Hespi to create an AI digitisation pipeline suitable for museum collections. The AI pipeline will mobilise biodiversity data for about 12,500 specimens in the museum’s globally-significant fossil graptolite collection.

We are also starting a new project with the Australian Research Data Commons (ARDC) to make the software more flexible. This will allow curators in museums and other institutions to customise Hespi to extract data from all kinds of collections — not just plant specimens.

Tranformational technology

Just as AI is reshaping many aspects of daily life, these technologies can transform access to biodiversity data. Human-AI collaborations could help overcome one of the biggest bottlenecks in collection digitisation — the slow, manual transcription of label data.

Mobilising the information already locked in herbaria, museums, and archives worldwide is essential to make it available for the cross-disciplinary research needed to understand and address the biodiversity crisis.

We wish to acknowledge our colleagues at the Melbourne Data Analytics Platform, including Karen Thompson and Emily Fitzgerald, who contributed to this research.

Robert Turnbull, Senior Research Data Specialist, The University of Melbourne and Joanne Birch, Senior Lecturer in the School of BioSciences, and Herbarium Curator, The University of Melbourne

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

South Australia’s catastrophic harmful algal bloom now affects almost 30% of the state’s coastline, stretching from the Coorong in the state’s southeast to the seafood-rich Spencer Gulf to the west.

With no end in sight, many South Australians are searching for solutions.

Trials of physical, chemical and biological solutions have been run around the world at much smaller scale, usually in aquaculture fish pens and leases.

Unfortunately, the enormous Karenia mikimotoi bloom in SA is far too big for any of these technologies. But they could provide temporary relief at high-risk sites, such as vital breeding grounds for vulnerable species such as the giant Australian cuttlefish.

How can algae be managed at smaller scales?

This disaster arose from a triple threat: marine heatwaves linked to climate change, floodwaters and cold upwellings carrying nutrients algae need, and marine habitat loss leaving coasts extra vulnerable. Prevention is the best cure – so we need to tackle each of these threats.

In the meantime, the bloom’s persistence presents an opportunity to experiment with potential solutions.

Chemical

Anyone who has managed a pool knows how effective chemicals are in removing unwanted algae. But in the sea, chemicals can have unintended impacts. There’s more than one type of algae out there and we don’t want to kill the good guys.

In response to algal blooms at sea, researchers have even tried chemical crop-dusting by planes.

Clay has been used against marine algal blooms for more than 50 years in China and Japan. The clay particles bind to algal cells in surface waters, causing them to settle to the bottom where they stop growing or die. But to date, it has required a huge amount of clay to be effective.

Modified clay technology is a promising environmentally friendly solution. Released as a slurry, the clay binds and removes phosphorus, essentially removing the bloom’s fuel source.

Physical

Physical solutions often involve mixing the water column to break up the warm surface layers suitable for algal growth.

Other solutions physically block and disturb algae. Pumping air through tubes to create “bubble curtains” can stop algae from passing through.

This technology is useful in aquaculture pens. But bubble curtains can do little against intense algal blooms, forcing fish farmers to simply drag their pens out of harms’ way. So they’re never going to work at scale.

Biological

Natural systems have their own checks and balances. The oceans are full of microorganisms that naturally prey on algae – such as single-celled organisms (ciliates and flagellates) – or suppress it, including bacteria and viruses.

Such natural microbial warfare may help solve the SA bloom, with promising signs of bioluminescent “sea sparkle” algae dining on Karenia.

Scientists in the United States are working to extract natural algicides produced by algae-killing marine bacteria to combat Red Tide blooms in Florida.

Some bacterial algicides only kill specific harmful algae species, offering promise for low-risk application. To date, these solutions have largely been used at small, experimental scale.

By contrast, algicidal bacteria are found in abundance on common seagrasses around the world, providing healthy seagrass meadows with natural immunity. Conserving and restoring seagrass offers one way to tackle the problem longer term.

Helping nature to help itself

SA was once home to 1,500km of shellfish reefs, formed by billions of native oysters. These ecosystems served as the natural kidneys of our coastline. A single oyster is capable of filtering a bathtub of water a day, removing excess nutrients and algae.

Within a century of European settlement, these natural reefs were all but destroyed by overharvesting. The good news: they can be restored. For example, restoring two hectares of shellfish reef at Adelaide’s Glenelg Beach saw oysters filtering over 12 million litres of water a day within 1.5 years of reef construction.

These figures suggest SA’s lost shellfish reefs would have been filtering over half a trillion litres of seawater daily. This natural wastewater treatment system could have removed nutrients washed into our coastal seas before they could feed a bloom.

Diving on the restored shellfish reef during the algal bloom has given us some hope. Despite the soupy green water, the native oysters appear to be doing well. Similarly, oysters on leases in the affected areas are thriving as they feed on the highly nutritious Karenia algae.

By contrast, many filter-feeding bivalves have been devastated by the bloom, notably the habitat-forming razorfish (pen shells) and cockles.

Earlier this month, Premier Peter Malinauskas announced plans to restore a total of 15 hectares of shellfish reef alongside community groups across 15 locations. This provides an opportunity to learn whether larger-scale oyster restoration can help future-proof SA seas against harmful algae.

Rebuildling resilient ecosystems

This devastating algal bloom will eventually dissipate. Once the harmful algae have fallen back to normal levels, nature can rebuild.

But future blooms are likely as the climate warms and strengthens heavy downpours that flush nutrients out to sea. To prepare, we should explore ways of restoring ecosystems able to hasten recovery and rebuild natural resilience.

Investing in scaling up conservation and restoration of filter-feeding shellfish reefs and bacteria-harbouring seagrass meadows – the sea’s kidneys and immune system – will be necessary alongside long-term underwater monitoring.

If we continue with a reactive, fragmented approach to climate, nutrient pollution, and biodiversity loss, we’re guaranteed to face more costly catastrophes. We need to act to build long-term ecological and socio-economic resilience.

Dominic McAfee, Postdoctoral researcher, marine ecology, University of Adelaide and Sean Connell, Professor, Sustainable Marine Futures, Environment Institute, University of Adelaide

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

As demand for artificial intelligence technology boosts construction and proposed construction of data centers around the world, those computers require not just electricity and land, but also a significant amount of water. Data centers use water directly, with cooling water pumped through pipes in and around the computer equipment. They also use water indirectly, through the water required to produce the electricity to power the facility. The amount of water used to produce electricity increases dramatically when the source is fossil fuels compared with solar or wind.

A 2024 report from the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory estimated that in 2023, U.S. data centers consumed 17 billion gallons (64 billion liters) of water directly through cooling, and projects that by 2028, those figures could double – or even quadruple. The same report estimated that in 2023, U.S. data centers consumed an additional 211 billion gallons (800 billion liters) of water indirectly through the electricity that powers them. But that is just an estimate in a fast-changing industry.

We are researchers in water law and policy based on the shores of Lake Michigan. Technology companies are eyeing the Great Lakes region to host data centers, including one proposed for Port Washington, Wisconsin, which could be one of the largest in the country. The Great Lakes region offers a relatively cool climate and an abundance of water, making the region an attractive location for hot and thirsty data centers.

The Great Lakes are an important, binational resource that more than 40 million people depend on for their drinking water and supports a US$6 trillion regional economy. Data centers compete with these existing uses and may deplete local groundwater aquifers.

Our analysis of public records, government documents and sustainability reports compiled by top data center companies has found that technology companies don’t always reveal how much water their data centers use. In a forthcoming Rutgers Computer and Technology Law Journal article, we walk through our methods and findings using these resources to uncover the water demands of data centers.

In general, corporate sustainability reports offered the most access and detail – including that in 2024, one data center in Iowa consumed 1 billion (3.8 billion liters) gallons of water – enough to supply all of Iowa’s residential water for five days.

How do data centers use water?

The servers and routers in data centers work hard and generate a lot of heat. To cool them down, data centers use large amounts of water – in some cases over 25% of local community water supplies. In 2023, Google reported consuming over 6 billion gallons of water (nearly 23 billion liters) to cool all its data centers.

In some data centers, the water is used up in the cooling process. In an evaporative cooling system, pumps push cold water through pipes in the data center. The cold water absorbs the heat produced by the data center servers, turning into steam that is vented out of the facility. This system requires a constant supply of cold water.

In closed-loop cooling systems, the cooling process is similar, but rather than venting steam to the air, air-cooled chillers cool down the hot water. The cooled water is then recirculated to cool the facility again. This does not require constant addition of large volumes of water, but it uses a lot more energy to run the chillers. The actual numbers showing those differences, which likely vary by the facility, are not publicly available.

One key way to evaluate water use is the amount of water that is considered “consumed,” meaning it is withdrawn from the local water supply and used up – for instance, evaporated as steam – and not returned to its source.

For information, we first looked to government data, such as that kept by municipal water systems, but the process of getting all the necessary data can be onerous and time-consuming, with some denying data access due to confidentiality concerns. So we turned to other sources to uncover data center water use.

Sustainability reports provide insight

Many companies, especially those that prioritize sustainability, release publicly available reports about their environmental and sustainability practices, including water use. We focused on six top tech companies with data centers: Amazon, Google, Microsoft, Meta, Digital Realty and Equinix. Our findings revealed significant variability in both how much water the companies’ data centers used, and how much specific information the companies’ reports actually provided.

Sustainability reports offer a valuable glimpse into data center water use. But because the reports are voluntary, different companies report different statistics in ways that make them hard to combine or compare. Importantly, these disclosures do not consistently include the indirect water consumption from their electricity use, which the Lawrence Berkeley Lab estimated was 12 times greater than the direct use for cooling in 2023. Our estimates highlighting specific water consumption reports are all related to cooling.

Amazon releases annual sustainability reports, but those documents do not disclose how much water the company uses. Microsoft provides data on its water demands for its overall operations, but does not break down water use for its data centers. Meta does that breakdown, but only in a companywide aggregate figure. Google provides individual figures for each data center.

In general, the five companies we analyzed that do disclose water usage show a general trend of increasing direct water use each year. Researchers attribute this trend to data centers.

A closer look at Google and Meta

To take a deeper look, we focused on Google and Meta, as they provide some of the most detailed reports of data center water use.

Data centers make up significant proportions of both companies’ water use. In 2023, Meta consumed 813 million gallons of water globally (3.1 billion liters) – 95% of which, 776 million gallons (2.9 billion liters), was used by data centers.

For Google, the picture is similar, but with higher numbers. In 2023, Google operations worldwide consumed 6.4 billion gallons of water (24.2 billion liters), with 95%, 6.1 billion gallons (23.1 billion liters), used by data centers.

Google reports that in 2024, the company’s data center in Council Bluffs, Iowa, consumed 1 billion gallons of water (3.8 billion liters), the most of any of its data centers.

The Google data center using the least that year was in Pflugerville, Texas, which consumed 10,000 gallons (38,000 liters) – about as much as one Texas home would use in two months. That data center is air-cooled, not water-cooled, and consumes significantly less water than the 1.5 million gallons (5.7 million liters) at an air-cooled Google data center in Storey County, Nevada. Because Google’s disclosures do not pair water consumption data with the size of centers, technology used or indirect water consumption from power, these are simply partial views, with the big picture obscured.

Given society’s growing interest in AI, the data center industry will likely continue its rapid expansion. But without a consistent and transparent way to track water consumption over time, the public and government officials will be making decisions about locations, regulations and sustainability without complete information on how these massive companies’ hot and thirsty buildings will affect their communities and their environments.

Peyton McCauley, Water Policy Specialist, Sea Grant UW Water Science-Policy Fellow, University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and Melissa Scanlan, Professor and Director of the Center for Water Policy, School of Freshwater Sciences, University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee

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

Over recent decades, farmland values in Australia have soared. Nationally, the price of broadacre farmland – used for cropping or sheep and beef grazing – has increased by more than eightfold since 1992.

It might seem like this could only be good news for those who own and operate farms. But this boom carries surprising downsides for the profitability of the farming industry.

Our new study examined the dynamic relationship between farmland prices and the profitability of Australia’s farming sector. To do this, we used national and state-level data from 1992 to 2022.

We found when farm profits rise, farmland prices tend to increase as well, with a lag of two to five years. But there’s a catch: higher land values push up production costs, which can erode profits over time.

This feedback loop – where higher profits lifts farmland prices but those higher prices eventually squeeze profitability – has some serious implications for farm business viability.

What’s driven farmland’s surge?

Several factors have contributed to the rapid growth in Australia’s farmland prices in recent years. These include strong commodity prices and good seasonal conditions, periods of low interest rates and increased demand for land.

While some of these forces have rewarded existing landholders, they have also increased barriers to entry for younger or less wealthy farmers to enter the industry.

This isn’t just an Australian phenomenon. Between 2002 and 2023, global farmland values grew at an average annual rate of 10%.

Analysts argue the major drivers of this surge include “growing concerns about food and land scarcity” and the increasing practice of valuing farmland for its environmental benefits, such as carbon storage, water rights, or biodiversity credits. They also note its appeal as a desirable investment, offering stable long-term returns with relatively low risk.

High land values can make it hard to farm

Rising land values can create a complex situation. For one, they mean farmers need more fund to buy new land or to improve existing operations, particularly those looking to expand or who are newcomers to the industry.

Farm expansion is important for farmers, because farm size has proven a key factor driving productivity gains.

Many Australian broadacre farms have benefited from what are called “economies of scale”. By spreading fixed costs such as machinery and management expenses over larger operations, they’re able to lower their average costs and gain a competitive advantage.

Other hurdles

Rising land prices also raise costs in less obvious ways. In recent years, a significant proportion of farmers have grown to rely on leasing additional land to run their operations.

A 2020 report from Rabobank found 45% of farmers in South Australia and 38% in Western Australia lease a portion of the land they operate.

But leasing rates tend to rise in line with land values, which in turn erodes the profitability of those who lease land for farms for farming operations.

The rise in farmland values may also lead to significant borrowing costs for new farmers and existing farmers expanding their businesses if they finance their farmland purchases with debt.

This is because higher property prices require larger loans, which lead to higher interest repayments and ultimately diminish profitability.

For those who do own land outright, there is a potential upside. Higher land prices boost farmer wealth and equity levels. This increases borrowing capacity and supports productivity growth by making it easier for farmers to access capital for further investments, such as upgrading machinery or adopting new technology.

But even for this group, rising land values can inflate property taxes and insurance premiums, eroding profits.

Headed for the exit

This trend has real consequences for farmers and rural communities.

When farmland prices rise sharply, many long-time farmers see an opportunity to sell up and leave the industry. But when they go, their years of knowledge about how to run farms efficiently and productively go with them, leaving a gap that’s hard to replace.

High land prices also push some farmers, especially younger ones, out of the market altogether. In parts of Australia, it’s becoming harder to afford land to buy or lease, which threatens their ability to make a decent living from farming.

If fewer people can make a living on the land, that puts pressure on Australia’s food supply. It also affects the towns and communities built around farming. Fewer farmers mean fewer families in the region, which can lead to schools and local businesses closing and a weakening of the community fabric.

At the same time, when farmland becomes very expensive, there’s more pressure to squeeze every dollar out of it. That can encourage farming practices that put short-term profit ahead of long-term environmental care.

Policymakers, farmers and the public can’t afford to ignore these hidden costs.

The authors would like to acknowledge the contributions of Florian Gerth, who co-authored the research discussed in this article.

Amir Arjomandi, Associate Professor of Economics, School of Business, University of Wollongong; Hassan F. Gholipour, Associate Professor of Property, Western Sydney University; Mohammad Reza Farzanegan, Professor of Economics of the Middle East, University of Marburg, and Sharon Yam, Associate Professor of Property, Western Sydney University

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

Imagine the weight of three Sydney Harbour Bridges. Between 2022 and 2023, product manufacturers were responsible for 540,000 tonnes (or three Sydney Harbour Bridges) of soft plastic packaging in Australia. Even worse, only 6% was recovered for recycling.

Following the spectacular collapse of REDcycle’s recycling program a few years ago, Australians discovered that instead of being recycled as promised, huge stockpiles of soft plastics had been secretly stockpiled in warehouses.

The consumer watchdog, the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission, is proposing a new voluntary scheme where supermarkets and manufacturers work together to collect and recycle soft plastics. Public submissions on the scheme are due by next Monday, August 25.

So what’s being proposed? And how could buying more food without plastic packaging potentially save you money?

How the new recycling scheme would work

The commission’s proposed industry-led scheme aims to collect and recycle more soft plastic packaging from consumers, such as shopping bags and food packaging. Once approved, the program is proposed to run for eight years, with an initial review after three.

Australia’s three largest supermarket chains – Woolworths, Coles and Aldi – are all involved, along with multinational food manufacturers Nestle, Mars and McCormick Foods. It would be run by Soft Plastics Stewardship Australia, a not-for-profit industry body overseen by a board of senior supermarket and manufacturing executives.

It would be funded through a levy on the companies involved. For example, when a manufacturer sells its product to a supermarket, the manufacturer will have “placed” the soft plastic on the market – so they would pay.

The levy would start at A$160 per tonne of soft plastic and is expected to increase over time.

The companies involved may decide to pass on the cost of the levy through the supply chain, including to consumers. So it remains to be seen who’ll end up paying.

Other countries have taken a different approach. For example, in Germany producers have to take back and recycle any packaging from consumers free of charge.

Why soft plastics are hard to recycle

“Soft” plastics are used by manufacturers, suppliers and supermarkets to package everything from fresh produce, frozen foods, chip packets, muesli bar wrappers and deli counter film, to the inner and outer packaging on countless other supermarket items.

Soft plastics are made up of multiple layered and flexible materials, making them difficult to recycle.

They are often contaminated with food, and their “soft” nature tends to jam conventional sorting and processing machinery. They also take up a lot of space without yielding much usable material, making the whole process uneconomical for recycling organisations.

Why is so much supermarket food pre-packed?

For stores, it keeps things moving: pre-weighed packs speed up checkouts, cut staff time, and prolong shelf life for some products. That thin film on a cucumber can stretch its life from 3 days to 14.

Packaging also standardises portions, allows for company branding and promotion, and makes stock easier to store, stack and transport.

For shoppers, the appeal is convenience and familiarity.

When you’re in a hurry, it’s often simpler to grab what’s ready to go than to think about how much food you actually need, and the extra plastic you’ll bring home.

Buying unpackaged food could save you money

Commendable as it is, on its own the proposal for a new recycling scheme is not a long-term fix. Technical solutions to environmental problems – such as recycling soft plastics – can stop us dealing with the ultimate cause: our own behaviour.

Economists call this “moral hazard”. A classic example is drivers who are insured take greater risks when driving. Or in this case, knowing the plastic will be recycled means many of us could feel we don’t need to reduce our plastic use.

But while systematic change is clearly needed, as shoppers we can do our bit – and there can be payoffs for doing so.

Selecting loose fresh fruit and vegetables allows you to check for ripeness and avoid hidden spoilage.

It’s often also cheaper. Last year, Choice compared supermarket unit prices of a range of foods sold both loose and pre-packed. They found loose produce was cheaper 50% of the time, while prepackaged was cheaper 35% of the time (15% it was about the same).

Thinking beyond recycling

We need more profound changes to tackle our local and global packaging waste crisis.

One example is zero-waste shops that sell everything loose, from fresh food to dry goods and liquids.

We can start by changing our behaviour from the bottom up, avoiding pre-packaged goods as much as practical.

But manufacturers and supermarkets need to do their part too, giving shoppers more choice with more loose products and less plastic.

A sustainable solution to too much plastic has to go beyond recycling, otherwise our Harbour Bridge-sized stockpiles will continue to grow.

Louise Grimmer, Associate Professor of Marketing, Tasmanian School of Business and Economics, University of Tasmania; Robert Hoffmann, Professor of Economics, Tasmanian Behavioural Lab, University of Tasmania, and Swee-Hoon Chuah, Professor of Behavioural Economics, Tasmanian Behavioural Lab, University of Tasmania

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

Australia is home to an extraordinary variety of wildlife, ranging from striking palm cockatoos to elusive mountain pygmy-possums and remarkable rat-kangaroos.

Most of us never get to see these creatures in real life – and that’s a real shame. Spending time in nature looking for wildlife is more than just a hobby – it’s a way to reconnect with the natural world and remember why it matters.

But how do you actually see these creatures for yourself? It’s often easier than you think.

As wildlife researchers, we’ve spent a long time in the field looking for wildlife. Here are ten standout locations where you have a good chance of seeing some genuinely remarkable Australian creatures – and tips on doing so without causing them stress or harming the environment.

1. Kutini-Payamu/Iron Range National Park, Queensland

Located in far north Queensland, Iron Range is renowned for lush rainforests and rich wildlife. Here, you can spot majestic palm cockatoos, secretive green pythons, the striking green, red and blue hues of eclectus parrots and the adorable common spotted cuscus, a species of possum. These species also occur in Papua New Guinea, but the Cape York region is the only place to spot them in Australia.

Spotting tips: Walk the trails with binoculars during peak times for bird activity, early morning or late afternoon. At night, use a head torch to spot pythons, frogs, death adders, geckoes, rufous owls, cuscus and other nocturnal fauna.

2. Atherton Tablelands, Queensland

Inland from Cairns lies the Atherton Tablelands, an elevated region with a cooler climate and abundant and diverse wildlife. Here, you can spot vibrant Ulysses butterflies, shy platypuses and rare marsupials. Australia’s largest snake, the scrub python, can block entire roads as it warms itself up before the night’s hunt. Rare waterfall frogs can be spotted in fast-flowing falls.

Lumholtz’s tree kangaroos can be spotted hopping along limbs at Curtain Fig National Park and Mount Hypipamee National Park, alongside green ringtail possums and striped possums with elongated fingers to ferret out grubs.

Meanwhile, musky rat-kangaroos can be seen “gardening” on the forest floor at Lake Eacham and Lake Barrine. These are the smallest kangaroos and the only non-hopping species. Your best chance of sighting an elusive northern quoll or northern bettong is at Davies Creek National Park.

Spotting tips: Take guided night walks to glimpse nocturnal wildlife. Use a head torch with a red filter. Move quietly and regularly stop to listen for movement and animal calls. Binoculars are a must for spotting creatures high in the canopy.

3. Western Treatment Plant, Victoria

Surprisingly, Melbourne’s Western Treatment Plant is a mecca for birdwatchers. The huge wastewater facility is recognised as a wetland of international importance. Migratory birds such as sharp-tailed sandpipers and red-necked stints can be seen, while well-hidden bitterns, rare orange-bellied parrots and Australia’s dancing crane, the brolga, can be glimpsed feeding in dense heath during cooler months. Almost 300 species have been recorded here.

Spotting tips: Visit during migration seasons (spring and autumn) for the best birdwatching opportunities. Use binoculars, telescopes, or telephoto lenses for close-up views without disturbance. Visitors need a permit.

4. Lunawanna-allonah/Bruny Island and Wukaluwikiwayna/Maria Island, Tasmania

South of Hobart lies Bruny Island, a sanctuary for endangered species such as eastern and spotted-tailed quolls. Most of Tasmania’s endemic bird species are found here, such as green rosellas and forty-spotted pardalotes. Rare swift parrots can also be seen.

North of Hobart is Maria Island, an island national park where no cars are allowed – and where Tasmanian devils, bandicoots and wombats can readily be seen.

Spotting tips: Join guided tours to see nocturnal wildlife or birds in Bruny Island’s tall forests. Eastern quolls can often be seen at night on the main road when heading north from the island’s isthmus. Tasmanian devils and bandicoots can be seen around campsites at Maria Island at night.

5. Flinders, Portsea and Blairgowrie piers, Victoria

Snorkelling the cool waters beneath Flinders, Portsea and Blairgowrie piers is a revelation. Here live spectacular weedy sea dragons, sand octopuses, big-belly seahorses, ornate cowfish, smooth and eagle rays, Port Jackson and banjo sharks and vividly coloured nudibranchs.

Spotting tips: Snorkel or dive during calm weather for best visibility. Keep your distance from marine life for their safety (and yours).

6. Sydney Harbour and cliff tops, New South Wales

Sydney’s iconic harbour and surrounding cliffs are well suited for marine life enthusiasts. Every winter, humpback and southern right whales migrate past the headlands, while pods of bottlenose dolphins can be seen year-round. White-bellied sea eagles, Australasian gannets and short-tailed shearwaters add to the spectacle in the skies.

Spotting tips: Join whale-watching cruises between May and November for the best chance. Clifftop spotting is best done with binoculars from Royal National Park, North Head, Clovelly and The Gap.

7. Binybara/Lee Point, Northern Territory

Just north of Darwin is Lee Point, one of the best places to glimpse the elusive black-footed tree-rat. Weighing almost a kilo, this threatened native rodent is an expert climber and lives in tree hollows.

Around 200 bird species have also been recorded here. Flocks of great knots, eastern curlews and grey-tailed tattlers feed on the mudflats, while the woodlands are home to the dazzling colour of Gouldian finches and the charismatic blue-winged kookaburra.

Spotting tips: Visit at night to see the tree-rat moving between trees, or come at low tide to watch thousands of shorebirds feeding. Binoculars will be invaluable.

8. Wadjemup/Rottnest Island, Western Australia

Offshore from Perth, Rottnest Island is rightly famous for its smiling quokkas. But other unique species such as King’s skink and venomous dugites can be seen here too, while osprey nests occupied for decades can be seen on rock stacks. The reefs around the island have WA’s southernmost coral.

Spotting tips: Cycling is the best way to explore different habitats on the largely car-free island. Keep your distance from quokkas and other wildlife to ensure they stay wild.

9. Kunama Namadgi/Kosciuszko National Park, New South Wales

Australia’s highest peaks are home to the nation’s most remarkable alpine wildlife. Birdwatchers can spot gang-gang cockatoos feeding in eucalypts, while lucky hikers might glimpse an alpine dingo crossing a snow-dusted plain, or see a strikingly coloured Corroborree frog in a bog or fen.

This is the only place in the world where you can encounter a critically endangered mountain pygmy-possum. These tiny marsupials hibernate under winter snow and emerge to feed on bogong moths in spring.

Kosciuszko is also home to the native smoky mouse and – remarkably – to Leadbeater’s possum, long thought to be confined to Victoria’s Central Highlands.

Spotting tips: For the best chance of spotting a mountain pygmy-possum, visit between late spring and early summer when the snow has melted. Stick to alpine boulder fields such as those around Charlotte Pass and Mount Kosciuszko. You may need to camp overnight to see nocturnal possums and the smoky mouse. Binoculars and patience are essential to glimpse these shy species.

10. Karta Pintingga/Kangaroo Island, South Australia

Southwest of Adelaide lies the large Kangaroo Island, home to echidnas, tammar wallabies, a rare subspecies of the glossy black-cockatoo and Kangaroo Island dunnarts. Koalas are common. While the island’s isolation has protected these species, the 2020 megafires caused much damage. Wildlife is now bouncing back.

Spotting tips: Explore national parks and conservation areas with a local guide. Observe from a distance.

Take care of wildlife

Wildlife spotting has to be done with care. Think of yourself as a guest in someone else’s home.

Keep a respectful distance, don’t touch wildlife, move quietly and use binoculars or a zoom lens for a closer look rather than creeping closer.

If you’re out after dark, make sure your head torch has a red light option. This light is vastly less damaging to animal eyes optimised for the dark.

When snorkelling or diving, avoid hitting corals and sponges with your fins.

It can be tempting to use playback of calls to attract birds such as owls. But this is very disruptive and can do real damage.

Avoid moving logs, bark, stones and other habitat in your effort to see animals. This is disruptive and risks bites from venomous creatures.

Clean and disinfect your boots before moving between areas to avoid spreading soil-borne pathogens such as cinnamon fungus and chytrid fungus.

Whatever you do, don’t feed wildlife. It might seem harmless, but it can change their natural behaviour, make them ill and even make them dependent on people.

Posting sightings on citizen science apps such as iNaturalist and FrogID can help scientists learn more about these species and aid their conservation.

Enjoy the journey

As wildlife researchers, we often seek out species in their natural habitat. These moments never lose their impact.

It’s a remarkable thing to see a creature in its natural habitat. A successful sighting gives a sense of awe and joy. At a time when many people are cut off from nature, deliberately seeking out these species is a powerful and rewarding act.

Patrick Finnerty, Postdoctoral Research Fellow in Conservation and Wildlife Management, University of Sydney; Euan Ritchie, Professor in Wildlife Ecology and Conservation, School of Life & Environmental Sciences, Deakin University, and Rhys Cairncross, Ecologist and PhD Researcher, University of Sydney

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

Poohsticks, the game in which Piglet and Winnie the Pooh throw sticks into the river from one side of a bridge, and then rush over to the other side to see whose stick appears first, is all about current flow. Disappointingly, neither Piglet nor Pooh mention fluid dynamics despite its pivotal importance in determining who won.

Unlike sticks, though, animals can respond to those flows. The movement of water and air – with their winds and currents – can affect flying and swimming animals profoundly. And as we recently discovered, penguins are far more tuned in to these dynamics than anyone realised.

Anyone who’s ever swum in the sea will know how cross-currents can drag you along the coast, even when you’re trying to swim straight in. Magellanic penguins, a South American penguin, face this challenge daily, but they appear to have found a clever solution.

Penguins can swim far from land but seem to know exactly where they are. More importantly, they seem to know how to get back to their breeding colonies, whether currents are confounding them or not.

To understand how they do this, our team – which included researchers from Argentina, Germany, Japan and the UK – fitted high-tech tracking tags to Magellanic penguins breeding in Argentina. These birds often forage up to 43 miles offshore, far beyond the range of visual landmarks. And it’s unlikely they’re using the seafloor as a map, as Magellanics rarely dive that deep.

The tech we placed on the penguins recorded some pivotal information. Global positioning systems (GPS) gave the birds’ positions when they were at the surface between dives. And trajectories underwater could be calculated using dead reckoning. This is what a car navigation system does when it goes into a tunnel – it starts with the last GPS position and uses vectors on the car heading and speed to work out the path.

Our team did this with the penguins’ data, calculating the underwater pathways for every second of their one to three day trips. We then integrated this with the currents. This was no simple undertaking because currents change dramatically over the tidal cycle and vary with position.

So what could the penguins do in such a dynamic environment? One option (assuming they somehow knew both where they were and where home was) would be to head straight for the colony. But doing this would often have meant swimming against strong currents, sometimes of up to 2 metres per second (around 4.5mph). That’s about the same speed as an Olympic swimmer.

Although penguins can cruise at that speed, going faster to beat the current would cost them a lot of extra energy.

Interestingly, we found that during slack water, when the currents were trivial, the penguins headed directly home. So, somehow they knew where they were in relation to the colony. Theories about how animals might do this include them using magnetic field sensing, celestial cues, or even using smell to find their way but it’s a mysterious and hotly debated topic among experts.

When the current was strong, the penguins generally aimed in the right direction to return home. But they often combined this with swimming in the same general direction as the current, which typically flowed across the direct line to the nest. So, some birds appeared set to overshoot the colony, probably landing further down the coast.

However, the yin and yang of tidal currents means that what flows one way on the rising tide reverses on the ebb. The penguins seemed to understand this. They swam roughly equivalent, but mirror-imaged, trajectories on both incoming and outgoing tides, according to the direction of the current.

This strategy effectively cancels out potential overshoots over the course of a tidal cycle. Once they were close enough to the colony, the penguins launched into a final burst of power and made a direct line for home. This strategy increases the length of the path to get home. But it’s easy travelling since much of the work to move is done by the current and the increased distance gives the penguins opportunities to find prey.

Navigational experts

This suggests that Magellanic penguins can detect both the direction and speed of ocean currents. While some theories propose that animals sense small-scale turbulence to gauge flow, the mechanisms remain poorly understood.

Still, what these penguins manage is remarkable. It’s a kind of navigational party trick that helps ensure they return reliably to feed their chicks, seemingly untroubled by shifting currents.

Ocean and air circulation patterns are becoming more chaotic with climate change. If penguins, and other marine animals, can keep navigating our waters with skill and instinct, it’s one small piece of good news in a rapidly changing world.

Rory Wilson, Professor of Aquatic Biology and Sustainable Aquaculture, Swansea University and Richard Michael Gunner, Postdoctoral Researcher in Wildlife Biology, Max Planck Institute of Animal Behavior

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

For the tenth time this year, a wildfire warning covers most of Scotland. The latest alert came after a recent, and not the first, gorse fire on Arthur’s Seat, Edinburgh’s iconic ancient volcano that draws millions of visitors every year. Fire crews think human activity caused the fire. This is exactly the kind of incident that triggers our instinct to find someone to blame.

But with over 41,000 hectares already burned across Britain in 2025 (an area larger than the Isle of Wight) pointing the finger misses the point. News reports focus on who lit the spark, but Arthur’s Seat was primed to burn: flammable gorse has flourished since sheep stopped grazing the slopes. The real question isn’t who started this fire, but why we are caught off guard when fires happen in the wrong places.

This isn’t just an Edinburgh problem. Millions of Britons live near fire-prone landscapes, from Dorset heathlands to the Scottish Highlands.

My colleagues and I work with national parks in southern Africa to understand how they manage this challenge. The challenges I see in South Africa mirror what Britain now faces because of climate change: how to keep people and infrastructure safe when fire an unavoidable part of our reality.

Research shows that climate change has made the UK’s risk of ideal conditions for wildfires six times higher. While ignition sources haven’t changed much – most UK fires still start from human activity like discarded cigarettes or campfires – the conditions that allow fires to spread have transformed. Warmer, wetter winters create more plant growth and therefore fuel, which turns bone-dry during hot, dry spells.

Fire is a natural and vital feature of many landscapes globally. In fire-adapted ecosystems it can clear invasive species while promoting native grasses, reduce the buildup of dead vegetation that fuels dangerous blazes and create some of our most iconic places where plants and animals thrive.

The problem isn’t fire itself, but where, when and how it happens. Over 1.8 million British homes now sit within 100m of countryside edges – exactly where most wildfires occur. During one of Britain’s biggest wildfires on a North Yorkshire moor in 2018, flames nearly reached homes and critical infrastructure: the trans-Pennine railway, M62 motorway, major power lines and drinking water reservoirs. Another recent fire in the same area was close to a ballistic missile base.

I have interviewed fire managers in South Africa, where humans have worked with fire for millennia. Their approach suggests a fundamentally different relationship with fire, understanding fire as part of a landscape’s natural processes. Instead of treating every fire as a crisis, they study how fire behaves – when it helps ecosystems, when it threatens communities, and how to work with these patterns rather than against them.

Take Cape Town as an example, where fire authorities publish daily risk ratings that residents check like weather forecasts. High-risk days mean banned barbecues and closed trails. When safe, fire crews deliberately burn mountain slopes in small sections – having the right fires at the right times to prevent catastrophic ones. Property owners in Cape Town form neighbourhood fire protection associations to support each other and the emergency services during unplanned fires, creating a coordinated response network.

The UK is catching on

The UK government is reviewing its wildfire management strategy, focusing on prevention, collaboration and risk reduction. Landowners are also taking a more proactive approach. The Cairngorms national park in Scotland approved the UK’s first comprehensive wildfire management plan in June 2025, introducing seasonal fire management plans and setting up community groups to communicate fire risk and response. Fire services in the Cairngorms now use drones for real-time aerial mapping and off-road vehicles to fight fires in tough terrain.

However, we are still playing catch up. Fire services recorded 286 wildfires between January and April 2025. That’s over 100 more than the same period in 2022’s record year. Yet services receive little dedicated wildfire funding.

Britain could learn from South Africa’s holistic approach. Starting with the need to understand our own landscapes first. What role does fire play in our landscapes? How can we safely manage fire risk in different landscape types? Which of our ecosystems and places might actually benefit from carefully managed fire?

Edinburgh could start by studying Arthur’s Seat as Cape Town studies Table Mountain – not to implement identical solutions, but to understand how fire behaves in this specific landscape. This means researching how gorse burns, whether controlled burns could reduce dangerous fuel loads, and how visitors can safely coexist with proactive fire management.

The lesson isn’t to transplant South African methods to British soil, but to embrace their comprehensive approach to understanding fire. Every landscape is different. What works on Cape Town’s fynbos shrubland won’t necessarily work on Scottish moors. But the principle of studying fire as a part of the landscape rather than simply an emergency to suppress could transform how Britain manages its growing fire risk.

Fire isn’t the enemy. Poorly understood, unmanaged fire is. Climate change guarantees greater fire risk. Britain’s choice is clear: continue reacting with shock to each blaze, or develop our own integrated understanding of how fire works in British landscapes. The Arthur’s Seat fire was a warning shot. The question is whether we’ll heed it.

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Elliot Convery-Fisher, Research Fellow in the Socio-Ecology of Fire Management, Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh

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

People often prioritize aesthetics when choosing plants for their gardens. They may pick flowers based on colors that create visually appealing combinations and varieties that have bigger and brighter displays or more fragrant and pleasant-smelling flowers. Some may also choose species that bloom at different times in order to maintain a colorful display throughout the growing season.

Many gardeners also strive for ecological harmony, seeking to maintain pollinator-friendly gardens that support bees, butterflies, hummingbirds and other pollinators. But there are some notable ways in which the preferences of humans and pollinators have the potential to diverge, with negative consequences for pollinators.

As a cognitive ecologist who studies animal decision-making, I find that understanding how pollinators learn about and choose between flowers can add a helpful perspective to garden aesthetics.

Pollinator preferences and rewards

Over millions of years, plants have evolved suites of floral traits to attract specific types of pollinators.

Pollinators can be attracted to flowers based on color, pattern, scent and texture. For instance, hummingbirds typically visit bright red and orange flowers with narrow openings and a tubular shape. The striking red cardinal flower is one that is primarily pollinated by hummingbirds, for example.

Bees are often attracted to blue, yellow and white flowers that can be either narrow and tubular or open. Lavender, sage and sunflower plants all bear flowers that attract bee pollinators.

Flowers offer rewards to visiting pollinators. Nectar is a sugar-rich solution that flowers produce to attract pollinators, which use it to meet their energy needs.

Flowers have an ulterior motive for providing this energy source. While drinking the nectar, pollen can get stuck on the pollinator and transferred to the next flower it visits. This process is essential for the plant’s reproductive success. Pollen contains the plants’ male gametes, which, when deposited onto another flower in the right place, can fertilize the female gametes and produce seeds that grow into new plants. Pollen is also nutrient-rich, containing proteins, lipids and amino acids. Many species, such as bees, collect pollen to feed their developing young.

A battle for resources

Pollinators visit flowers in search of floral rewards. But modifying the features of flowers for aesthetics can be a hindrance to pollinators trying to get these rewards. For example, popular garden plants such as roses and peonies are often bred to have more petals and larger flower heads, making them more visually striking and appealing to humans. But these extra petals may block a pollinator’s access to the center of the flower, where floral rewards are located.

Further, plants have limited resources. Spending them on building aesthetically pleasing but energetically expensive features can mean there’s less left to invest in signals and rewards essential for attracting pollinators. In extreme cases, breeding for aesthetics has led to plants with what scientists and gardeners call “double flowers.” In these varieties, extra petals replace reproductive parts entirely. These plants are often altogether unrewarding for pollinators, since the flowers no longer produce nectar or pollen. Double flowers occur from mutations that convert the pollen-producing stamens and other reproductive organs into petals. They can occur naturally but are rare in wild populations.

Since these double flowers cannot spread pollen or produce seeds effectively, they are unable to reproduce in the wild and pass these mutations on. To cultivate them as garden varieties, people propagate these plants through cuttings – small sections cut from the stem that can be rooted to grow clones of the parent plant. Many common garden plants have popular double-flowered varieties, including roses, peonies, camellias, marigolds, tulips, dahlias and chrysanthemums.

Roses, for example, have become synonymous with having many densely-packed petals. But these popular garden varieties are usually double-flowered or have many extra petals blocking access to the center of the rose and provide no rewards to pollinators.

Consider making your gardens friendlier to pollinators by avoiding these double-flowered plants, and ask your local garden center for recommended varieties if you need help.

Sometimes gardeners intentionally prevent plants from flowering, which limits or eliminates their value to pollinators.

For example, herbs such as thyme, oregano, mint and basil are generally most flavorful and tender before the plant begins to flower. Once it flowers, the plant diverts energy to reproductive structures, and leaves become tougher and lose flavor. As a result, gardeners often pinch off flower buds and harvest leaves frequently to promote continued growth and delay flowering. Letting some of your herbs flower occasionally can help pollinators without affecting your kitchen supplies too much.

Finding the right flowers

Flowers with unusual colors and stronger fragrances can be difficult for pollinators to detect and recognize.

People might favor bright and unusual flower colors in their gardens over naturally occurring shades. But this preference might not align with what the pollinators have evolved to favor in nature. For example, planting human-preferred colors, such as white or pink morphs of hummingbird-pollinated flowers that are typically red, can reduce a flower’s visibility and attractiveness. Even when cultivated varieties have a similar enough color to natural ones to attract pollinators, they may lack other important visual components, such as ultraviolet floral patterns that can guide pollinators to nectar sources.

Breeding plant varieties to accentuate particular aesthetic traits may have unintended consequences for other traits. Changes in flower color through selective breeding can also affect leaf color, as genes involved in pigment production can affect multiple plant tissues. Besides changing the overall appearance of the plant, changing leaf color may alter background contrast between flowers and the leaves, which can make flowers less conspicuous to pollinators.

Many pollinators use a combination of color and scent to detect and discriminate between flowers. But breeding for traits such as color and brightness can alter floral scents due to unintended genetic changes or energetic trade-offs.

Scent helps pollinators locate flowers from farther distances, so unfamiliar or reduced fragrance may make flowers harder to find in the first place. Disruption in either color or scent can make flowers less noticeable to pollinators expecting a familiar pairing and can hinder a pollinator’s ability to learn which flowers are suitable for them in the first place.

A balanced approach for healthy gardens

When flowers are harder to find, pollinators are less likely to visit them. When they offer poor or no rewards, pollinators quickly abandon them for better options. This disruption in plant-pollinator interactions has implications not only for pollinator health but also for garden vitality. Many plants rely on animal pollinators to reproduce and make mature seeds. These are either collected by gardeners or allowed to drop to the ground and sprout on their own to grow new flowering plants the following year.

When selecting plants for a garden, gardeners who want to support pollinators might consider choosing native varieties that have evolved alongside local pollinators.

In most areas of the country, there are native plants with colorful and interesting flowers that bloom at different times, from early spring to late fall. These plants tend to produce reliable floral signals and offer the nectar and pollen needed to support pollinator nutrition and development.

Sterile varieties and double flowers offer little or no rewards for pollinators, and gardens with them may not attract as many pollinators. Letting herbs flower after some harvesting is another simple way to support beneficial insects.

With choices informed by not just your aesthetic preferences but also those of pollinators, you can create colorful gardens that support wildlife and stay in bloom across various seasons.

Claire Therese Hemingway, Assistant Professor of Ecology & Evolutionary Biology, University of Tennessee

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