sábado, 27 de fevereiro de 2010

Rainforest revival: has Brazil turned the tide on deforestation?

After years of seemingly unstoppable destruction, Brazil appears to be winning some ground on the Amazon frontier. Is this just a recession-induced calm before the storm, asks Martin Wright – or the start of a rainforest revival?

In Europe, it’s rare to be able to drive for an hour through solid, unbroken forest. In the deep countryside of northern Sweden, perhaps, or on a particularly slow and winding road through the Carpathians.

In Brazil, by contrast, 747s fly for at least that time above an apparently endless sea of forest. If you’re lucky enough to have a window seat, you can look down and see a solid slab of green, from horizon to horizon. A green cut only by the winding loops of vast rivers, and the occasional tiny circular clearings, with no roads leading to or from them, which mark the Amerindian villages.

Until you reach the forest fringes, where the roads, and the fires, begin. Through the haze of smoke, you can see how the forest is being steadily frayed, torn into patches, and eventually destroyed altogether, apart from the odd remnant strip running along a gully.

The sheer visible scale of both the destruction, and of what remains, is breathtaking. It’s one of Brazil’s greatest hopes, and greatest challenges.

Roberto Smeraldi, Founder of Amigos da Terra – Brazilian Amazonia, and one of the most influential of the country’s environmentalists, sums it up: “Brazil ranks third in the list of global contributors to climate change – and two-thirds of its greenhouse gas emissions over the last five years result from land use changes – principally deforestation.”

The simplest cut

After energy, the destruction of tropical forests is by far the largest contributor to climate change – emitting ten times as much as aviation. As has been pointed out elsewhere in Green Futures, (see 'Can finance save forests?') produces a particularly nasty ‘double whammy’ of warming. As they burn, they send vast swathes of greenhouse gases into the atmosphere. And once they’re gone, they can’t soak up the carbon emitted from other sources, like industry, cars and power plants.

The other side of the coin, though, is that conserving forests is one of our most effective tools for staving off runaway climate change. And, since it doesn’t involve making major cuts in industrial or transport emissions, it can be one of the simplest, too. In Brazil’s case, says Smeraldi: “This means that our past and current emission record is not strongly associated with activities which are essential for jobs and economic growth – at least in comparison to the other ‘greenhouse gas superpowers’. This is excellent news for anybody struggling [to mitigate] climate change, since it might prove cheaper for us to engage in radical emission reductions [than it will for other countries].” Some specific good news came with the announcement in November 2009 that Brazil had cut deforestation to its lowest level in more than two decades. Just 2,705 square miles of the Amazon were lost between August 2008 and July 2009, almost half that of the previous 12 months, and the lowest annual total since reliable records started being kept in 1988. Among the factors behind the success, officials said, was the 2004 decision to make the Government as a whole responsible for enforcing forest laws, rather than it being ‘ghettoised’ in the Environment Ministry alone. This led to dramatic improvements in real-time satellite monitoring, which allows forestry police to respond immediately to evidence of logging or burning.

Significant swathes of Amazonia are coming under official federal protection. In the four years to 2008, some 50 million hectares were turned into forest reserves or national parks, and another ten million became indigenous reservations for Amerindian communities.

The news was welcomed by environmentalists. “We have to recognise the great efforts of the federal government, together with state governments, that brought about this drop in deforestation”, said Cláudio Maretti, Head of Conservation at WWF-Brasil. But he warned that there was still a pressing need to firm up the enforcement of forest conservation laws – and to expand other government programmes aimed at offering those living near the forest viable economic alternatives to forest clearance. “That is essential if Brazil is to assume clear commitments in relation to carbon emissions, and if we are really going to take a leadership role in the new green economy.”

Economic factors may well have played a role in the dramatic drop, says his WWF-Brasil colleague, Conservation Director Carlos Alberto de Mattos Scaramuzza. “We have to recognise that it’s related to the [global recession], particularly to the reduction in demand for commodities, which has meant there is less pressure” on standing forest. As that demand picks up, it will test the Government’s commitment to make further reductions, he warns.

A vital step now, say environmentalists, is for the Government to properly apply – and strengthen – the Forest Code, which dictates that landowners must preserve as forest 80% of any Amazon land they hold. The law is notoriously poorly enforced, and hopes were depressed when the Government recently delayed until 2011 a plan to start prosecutions of those not complying with the law. Conveniently perhaps, this transfers responsibility to President Lula’s successor, who will take office in January of that year.

Tasso Azevedo, Senior Adviser to the Minister of the Environment on Forest and Climate Change, agrees that the hard work lies ahead. “We have actually done most of the cheapest and straightforward things – basic law enforcement, restructuring of the monitoring system, and so forth… Now we’re onto the second level – placing constraints and disincentives in the way of any investment which involve deforestation.”

Some action is underway here, too. The Government has invested in sustainable logging initiatives, and some states are even paying people a small stipend to keep their land forested. And there’s noticeably less reticence on the part of the federal government to getting stuck in at the local level. In a new initiative called Mutirão Arco Verde, Brasilia sent hundreds of officials to the 43 municipalities responsible for more than half the region’s deforestation, to help farmers and authorities there “better understand” and comply with environmental legislation. While this may not have exactly been welcome intervention (shades of “I’m from head office – I’m here to help!”), the Government insisted the aim was to help the municipalities plan for economic growth – albeit of a sustainable kind.

Consumer groups, too, are starting to ratchet up the pressure [see box, ‘Backing the backlash’]. But meanwhile, there’s growing focus on the Cerrado – the vast swathe of savannah-woodland that borders the jungle to the east and south. Deforestation there is increasing, and is thought to be running at twice the rate of that in the Amazon. According to Smeraldi, it’s accounting for around 30% of the emissions resulting from all Brazilian forest destruction, so “it needs to be better measured and taken into account”. Scaramuzza agrees: “The Cerrado is actually much more endangered than Amazonia, because [it’s the focus of] a huge expansion of soya, corn and other commodities”.Setting tough targets for one while ignoring the other could make matters worse, says Smeraldi. “It could create perverse incentives, encouraging developers to switch their destructive activities to the Cerrado.”

Incentives of a positive kind are increasingly seen as the key to forest preservation. Andrew Mitchell, Founder of the Global Canopy Programme and one of the world’s most experienced forest policy thinkers, summed up the challenge when he spoke to Green Futures in 2009 (see 'Can finance save forests?') “At the moment, you can only make money out of forests when you convert them to something else – timber or beef, soy or palm oil... So in global markets, forests are worth more dead than alive. This is what we need to turn around. Philanthropy and governments won’t do it. You have to look to markets to overturn what is in fact a market failure… What we’ve got for free, we don’t pay for.”

As Azevedo put it, unless you pay people not to do something, they’ll carry on doing it. “Say you want to close down an illegal logging site. You can do so in 15 minutes. You just send in the police or the army and lock everything down. But 50 people will lose their jobs.” And unless you create better paid alternatives, they’ll soon be back cutting trees, there or elsewhere. “We have to put something else in place to keep the money flowing and to create a new economy.”

He believes that sustainable forest management – in which timber concessions are awarded and renewed on the basis solely of social and environmental good practice, rather than money – could be at its heart. In Acre state, WWF is working with local communities to implement such a scheme. It would allow the harvest not only of carefully selected, high-value timber, but other products such as Brazil nuts, rubber and essential oils – so long as it could demonstrate that the overall forest remained in good health.

All such schemes, of course, are potentially eligible for carbon funding, too – hence Brazil’s growing enthusiasm for international agreement on the issue. And there may also be ways in which the other huge regional benefits of standing forests, particularly sustaining the water cycle on which so much of Latin American agriculture depends, can be ‘monetised’. (see 'Can finance save forests?')

Azevedo advocates a simple system in which areas which reduced their rates of deforestation would be rewarded on a ‘payment by results’ basis. Brazil could use international carbon funding to invest in a whole range of initiatives to help forest preservation, and he’s particularly excited by the potential of satellite monitoring. This is fast reaching such a level of sophistication that someone with a laptop or even an iPhone could use a Google Earth-style tool to get detailed images of forest cover down to as little as half a hectare. Radar will help ‘see’ beneath cloud cover, so overcoming one of the obstacles to effective monitoring. The results, he promises, “will be totally publicly available. People will be able to download the information”.

None of this will succeed, though, cautions Smeraldi, without successfully engaging those on whom the forest most depends to survive: the people who make a living from it, and live within it. “This is especially true here in Brazil, given the very limited governance in forest areas and on their fringes”, he says, and he identifies two key challenges. First, set up practical financial mechanisms for rewarding local stakeholders directly. Second, sort out the tangle of land titles – or in many cases, lack of them. It won’t be straightforward. “In those cases where you have a clear legitimacy (i.e. legally established indigenous land, extractive reserves and so on) there is usually political reluctance, if not outright resistance, to remunerating local communities. Where you have ranchers and settlers with strong political support, it’s rare to have established land rights.”

Smeraldi acknowledges the recent progress that has been made on curbing Amazon deforestation, but warns that overall it remains fragile. And in terms of Brazil’s performance on climate change more generally, it could still be undercut by the recent oil discoveries [see ‘Oiling the future’]. “We need to keep a close eye on the overall consistency of national policies”, he says – and that means setting clear caps for total carbon emissions. “São Paulo state has set a positive example here, with its goal of a 20% cut in total emissions by 2020.”

For his part, Scaramuzza is cautiously optimistic that Brazil might indeed have pulled its vast forests back from the brink of destruction– and he thinks politics has played its part. “The Government wants to take a strong leadership position; it wants to really establish itself as a major player in the UN. [So President] Lula is assuming a lot of public commitment on this area – we already have a national climate change policy which includes an 80% reduction in deforestation as a target.”

Tasso Azevedo, too, thinks a corner has been turned. “I think that in Brazil, people are finally waking up.”

Cattle crunch
Intensive farming may have a bad press in Europe, but in Brazil, it could be key to saving swathes of forest. Intensive in relative terms, that is. As Roberto Smeraldi points out, “in the Amazon, we have 71 million heads of cattle on 74 million hectares of pasture” – over one hectare per cow, in other words. Increasing stockage rates to three hectares per cow would still provide ample grazing land, while taking pressure off the forest.

Smeraldi argues that “investments in increased yield productivity should be matched by investment in forest restoration”. Carbon finance could play a role here, he says, helping fund agricultural intensification which, by allowing the forest to recover, would indirectly result in increased carbon sequestration.

Products such as beef or leather which were produced from such ‘intensified’ ranches could be certified as such, he suggests. This would give them a market advantage among purchasers who are increasingly seeking to avoid products associated with rainforest destruction.
Backing the backlash
Consumer power is starting to slow forest destruction. Environmental groups led by Greenpeace have carried out damaging campaigns against major soy bean, beef and leather producers. Under an agreement signed in 2006 by Abiove, the Brazilian Association of Vegetable Oil Industries, and several environmental groups, major soy bean traders – including food giants such as Cargill – agreed not to purchase soya from areas inside the Amazon Biome deforested after July that year.

WWF is working with these and other companies on a monitoring system to ensure they can live up to their commitments. “It’s been a really positive outcome, building new relationships between NGOs and the private sector”, says Scaramuzza. But he warns that a focus on ‘Amazon-free soya’ might be helping drive destruction in the Cerrado. “It was relatively easy for companies to make this commitment, because only 8% of soya comes from Amazonia”, he says. “So now it’s time for them to raise the bar: to show the same commitment for other regions that they have for the Amazon.”

Meanwhile, the ‘soy moratorium’, which has been extended until at least July 2010, is being held up as a possible template for the beef sector. It’s the combination of the demand for Brazilian beef, soy beans and ethanol, say campaigners, which is behind much of the country’s deforestation. Cattle farmers sell land in the south to soy and sugar cane growers, and use the money to buy cheaper land in the Amazon which they then cut down for cattle pasture.

A Greenpeace study released in June 2009 claimed companies including Wal-Mart, Carrefour, Nike, Adidas, Clarks and Tesco bought beef and leather from Brazilian firms that raised cattle on deforested land. On occasion, it said, forced labour was even involved. The report caused a furor, and wary of a consumer backlash, those and other blue chip firms gave their suppliers until 2010 to implement a serious traceability system that enables them to identify where their beef and leather is coming from.

Just how effective the boycott will be is questionable. There are an estimated five million cattle ranchers in Brazil, and only a tiny percentage have any reliable traceability systems in place. Experts estimate it will take two years just to set up proper monitoring systems for beef. For leather, the issue is even more complex, as it is sold on the open commodities market and so is much harder to track. Nevertheless, the so-called beef moratorium is being heralded as another step in the right direction. “These companies are committing by telling their suppliers they expect to see zero deforestation or they will stop buying from them,” said Tatiana Carvalho, Greenpeace’s Amazon campaigner. “That is a big leap forward.” “The beef sector had been very resistant to change”, says Scaramuzza, “but now they are starting to come to the table.” WWF is working with a sustainable cattle-ranching group – a phrase that would have been an oxymoron just a few years ago. “There is a lot or room for improvement, but they’re starting to recognise the problem – and they want to be part of the solution.” – Andrew Downie / Martin Wright
Atlantic ambition

Not all business waits for a backlash before taking action. On the eastern coast, several companies, including Michelin and Veracel, are taking action to preserve and expand the last remnants of the Atlantic Forest, home to the golden lion tamarin (pictured). They are combining sustainable plantations of eucalyptus, rubber and cocoa trees with ecological corridors linking surviving fragments of woodland. The once vast Atlantic Forest has shrunk to 10% of its original area, but has an unrivalled capacity for regeneration. So projects such as these can make a real difference, say experts.

Martin Wright is Editor in Chief of Green Futures. Additional reporting by Andrew Downie.

Faculty Q+A: Christopher Uhl, Professor of Biology

January 26, 2010 6:59 AM by Maggie O'Keefe

Position: Professor of Biology

Link: http://www.chrisuhl.net/

Books by Chris Uhl

Chris Uhl's Ecology Courses

Teaching as a Whole Person

What do you teach?

Good question! I could list off some course titles but what does that say, really? I like to think that we are all teachers — the way we live our life is our day-to-day teaching. My favorite education writer, Parker Palmer, captured it when he wrote “We teach who we are.” So my best answer to your question, and I hope you will not find this flippant or arrogant, is that “I teach me,” for better or worse. Holding this in mind, I endeavor to be as real, forthright, and genuine with students as I am able.

How did you come to Penn State?

It was 1981 and I had just completed a post doc at the University of Georgia. A job opened up in PSU’s Biology Department. I had an affection for Pennsylvania having grown up outside of Philadelphia. I applied, was offered the job, and accepted with glee.

How did you come to care about the Earth and its environment?

Ever since I can remember I have felt most at home outside. As an eight-year-old I recall how I used to grab my pup tent and some food and head off to a lovely forested stream where I would camp out. The truth is: It has always felt just plain right and good to be outside. Indeed, I think that anyone who spends a good chunk of their childhood outside will come to care for Earth. After all, anatomically speaking, we are really designed to be in relationship with Earth — i.e., designed to hear, smell, taste, see, and touch the living world that envelops us.

In what way do you teach your passion for environmental sustainability?

Maybe the best way I teach it is by adopting sustainable practices in my daily life. For me this means taking steps to reduce my ecological footprint by reducing my energy use at home, growing a chunk of my own food in both front and backyard vegetable gardens, raising chickens, collecting rain in water barrels, composting, biking to work and so forth. I do these things for the pure joy of it — because I love to do them — not out of guilt or obligation.

Name one profound lesson you learned while studying the Amazonian rainforest.

In answering this question, my first impulse was to review all the field studies and publications I worked on during the 20-year span I worked in Amazonia, but, instead, I recalled a time when I watched the film, “Pretty Woman” in an Amazon movie house.

I decided to watch the movie, not as a lonesome American, but instead imagining I was a native of Amazonia. Hence, what I saw depicted the glorification of a whole way of life based on materialism, speed, and shallow relationships.

Suddenly, the United States wasn't a country but a "brand" that was being marketed to the world. This realization led me to shift my attention from promoting sustainability in the distant and exotic Amazon ecosystems to the seemingly ordinary ecosystem right in front of my nose — namely: Penn State University.

Although I didn’t foresee it at the time, my work would attract other PSU faculty members as well as students and lead to a sea change in PSU’s awareness of and commitment to sustainability.

Why did you write the book, Developing Ecological Consciousness: Path to a Sustainable World?

Though I wasn’t aware of it at the time, this book was gestating in me for more than two decades. The gestation process began in 1982, when I began teaching at Penn State.

My first teaching assignment was an environmental science course specifically targeted for non-science majors. At the outset, my dismay with the deteriorating condition of Earth infused every aspect of my teaching —lectures, assignments, readings, assessments. With time my own darkness began to lead me toward depression. It is always separation that lies at the root of depression. In my case, I was at odds with myself as manifest in my addiction to work; I was divorced from nature as evidenced in my constant rushing.

Years passed and I eventually stopped to reflect on what had brought me to ecology and environmental science in the first place. It was then that I recalled my awe, curiosity, longing, affection and exhilaration when wandering the wild. So began a concerted effort to bring different questions to my teaching, to invite myself and my students into a different way of being. I have come to call this different way of thinking-seeing-feeling-knowing relational consciousness.

Sadly, most school settings do little to help young people understand and experience their relationship to the Earth and Cosmos. What is really needed is an approach to education that encourages young people to develop a relationship — a deep bond — with Earth marked by a sense of profound belonging. These realizations provided the impetus for writing Developing Ecological Consciousness.

What one message do you hope your book conveys most to its readers?

More than anything, I hope this book engenders a measure of care in those who read it.

For many years of my professional life as an ecologist and environmental science teacher, I simply couldn’t figure out why the human response to the environmental crisis was so tepid. I now see that information alone is not enough. The missing ingredient is care.

When we care, our whole being is engaged, not just our minds. When we allow ourselves to feel Earth’s pain, we feel pain. This pain has the power to motivate us to respond as compassionate healers.

What has been your biggest accomplishment as a professor of biology?

I don’t think I will know the answer to this question with any clarity until after I am well into retirement.

There is a story told by Rachel Naomi Remen about a special dinner she attended when she was still a medical student to honor a famous man (a Nobel Laureate) on the medical faculty. The man, at age 80, was approaching the end of his life.

After his speech describing all the astounding medical advances that marked his 50-year career he remained at the podium for a long moment, casting his eyes around the room. Then he addressed Remen and the other doctors-to-be in the audience, saying: “I have been a physician for 50 years and I don’t know anything more about life now than I did at the beginning. I am no wiser. It slipped through my fingers.”

As I near my own retirement I see the relevance of this man’s story to my own life, knowing that my accomplishments, such as they are, have little to do with my scores of publications, grants, and awards.

How do your students teach you?

Rather than speak in abstractions, allow me another story: I teach a Freshman Seminar each year. On the first day of class I explain that the purpose of our seminar is to come together to reflect on and discuss a collection of provocative essays. I make it clear that the quality of our intellectual exchanges will be crippled should any one of us arrive unprepared.

Fast forward. It is the third week of the semester and after everybody is settled I say, “Raise your hand if you have carefully done the reading for today.” Only six of the 20 students raise their hand. I am “seeing red.”

Then, I remember to breathe. I look up and take some time to really see these young people who have gathered with me. My irritation drains away as I behold each person. Etched in their faces I perceive apprehension, exhaustion, fear, sadness, as well as expectancy, enthusiasm, curiosity and openness.

For the first time in the semester, I begin to see who has been in the room. Especially, I become aware of each person’s fundamental need to be seen, appreciated, understood, cherished. I realize, to my surprise, that I don’t need these students to get anything from my seminar. What I need is for

me to grow in my capacity to see each of them — really see them — in all their grandness and goodness amidst the shroud of suffering, ignorance and possibility that is the human condition. On this day, this is their teaching to me!

What is one quote that is most significant to you? Why?

There are so many but here is one that is above my desk and offers me gracious guidance. It is from Thich Nhat Hanh:

Breathing in I calm my body

Breathing out I smile.

Dwelling in the present moment (in breath)

I know this is a wonderful moment (out breath)

I love the simplicity of this. In moments of upset, I recall it and I remember to return to the present moment where everything is just as it is, and never “wrong.”

Microscopic virtual machines becoming a reality

WIRED: Like a picture in a picture, a virtual machine is an image of a computer running inside your computer, writes DANNY O'BRIEN

THE MARCH of technology seems to me, sometimes, like the descending march of everything into tinier objects.

That’s how I feel about USB flash drives. I bought a Pico USB flash drive the size of my little fingernail the other week. It stores 16 gigabytes, which, apart from my music and e-mail archives, is pretty much all the precious data I own. There’s something disturbing about squeezing my entire life (and most of my laptop drive) into a device the size of half a stick of chewing gum.

It gets worse. My hobby these days is toying with virtual machines.

Virtual machines are the entire state of a computer, frozen into a memory file, and saved. You can run them in the corner of the memory of your PC. Like a picture in a picture or a baby in a womb, a virtual machine is an entire, self-contained image of a computer, running inside your own computer. You can have as many virtual machines running as you want and that your computer can bear. I’ve seen Mac laptops running Windows 7 in one virtual machine, Linux in another. And that Linux image is, itself, running a simulation of the veteran Commodore 64 microcomputer, just to be perverse.

The virtual machine image I have stored on my hard drive, though, is a replica of my laptop; or, at least, I’m trying to make it so. I keep tweaking it, improving its similarity, trying to make it a little independent version of the environment I use every day.

When that virtual machine is a perfect clone of my laptop, my plan is to copy it on to that tiny fingernail of a flash drive. Then, whenever I need to have the same desktop environment as my laptop on another computer, I can just run that virtual machine. My virtual machine won’t touch the contents of the computer I run it on, and that computer won’t be able to invade the replica of my desktop. I’ll be able to carry around everything that makes my computer mine and use it to recreate that environment wherever I go.

Of course, the virtual machine won’t be a perfect copy. If I work on documents using my virtual machine, my home laptop won’t register the changes. But if there’s something that excites the companies that make virtualisation software, its migrating data between images.

Already, I can take a virtual machine image and migrate it to another computer on my network. In other words, I can start working on a document on the machine in front of me, and then magically move everything about all the programs I’m running to a machine on the other side of the house. Then, when I’m done, I can freeze that image, and drop it back on to my fingernail drive again.

I don’t even need to have a local computer to run this virtual machine. While what I’m doing with my laptop is somewhat fiddly, companies such as Amazon have turned their virtualisation services into a simple, user-friendly art. Amazon runs a service called EC2, the elastic compute cloud.

With a few buttons I can create one, two or 200 virtual machine images, and run them all at the same time. They don’t exist on my home computers; they exist on Amazon’s vast servers, somewhere on the US west coast (or Ireland, if I move my images there). I pay for minutes of used computer time, but I can economise: choose smaller virtual computers, or only run them at cheaper, off-peak times.

If this is one of these Wired columns that gives you a headache, I sympathise. I’ve been playing with this technology for years, and it still gives me a sense of vertigo. I don’t really imagine computers will get much smaller (the phone screen is about as tiny as a general- purpose computer can get, I think). But these images, which represent everything I do on a PC, are effectively microscopic. They can flit around from Amazon server to Amazon server. I’m currently trying to work out whether I can move the images that I have running on my laptop out on to the Amazon cloud. If I can, perhaps one day I’ll be able to just work on a virtual machine on my laptop, constantly synchronising with a clone out there in Amazonia. If my laptop dies, I’ll just be able to switch to the remote copy, with minimal data loss.

Or perhaps I’ll want to upgrade to a new computer, but will be too old to comfortably switch to an entirely new operating system. Instead, I’ll just move my current image on to that powerful new platform. So rather than learning new tricks, I’ll be able to preserve all my old ones – desktop settings, e-mail clients, browsers and all. I’ll just stay with my virtual past, getting smaller and slower with it.

Maybe that’s the future: being able, at last, to stop the march of technology and stick with the past.