Rwanda’s Inyambo: The Cows Who Are Treated Like Royalty — But Still Face Risks to Their Survival

The Inyambo’s importance to Rwandan culture can’t protect them from threats like diseases, international conflict, and inbreeding.

Visitors to the King’s Palace Museum in Rwanda can locate the nation’s prized cows by following the sounds of singing.

Called Inyambo in Rwanda and Bihogo in Uganda, these massive cattle are known for the white, symmetrical horns that stretch into the air several feet above their heads. They’re bred for ceremonial purposes — not milk or meat, like most cattle. The museum’s herd of 15 cows, each adorned in jewelry and ribbons, stand as symbols of their longstanding significance in Rwandan culture and history.

With crooning shepherds living on site at the museum full time and a dedicated veterinarian on call 24 hours a day, these cows have the best possible care. But, like many rare livestock breeds around the world, they face challenges to their survival, including climate change, habitat erosion, disease, and international conflicts. The United Nations estimates that at least 17% of worldwide livestock breeds are threatened with extinction, and it advocates for preserving genetic lines that may have a better chance of survival in a warming, pandemic-prone world.

Conserving culturally important breeds like the Inyambo in the face of these threats presents its own set of challenges. Planning for their future starts with understanding their past — as well as their present place in Rwandan culture.

It also requires answering a tricky question: Are Inyambo an endangered species?

A recreation of the King's palace at the museum in Rwanda.
A recreation of the King’s palace at the museum in Rwanda. Photo by Molly McCluskey

Counting the Uncountable

There are no monarchs in Rwanda anymore. Rwanda’s monarchy ended in 1962, when the country gained independence from Belgium. The King’s Palace Museum is a recreation of the last site of the formerly mobile monarchy, which previously moved around the country before settling in Nyanza in 1899 and establishing it as the first permanent capital of the kingdom.

The Inyambo — who roamed with the ruler until they, too, came to settle in Nyanza — are a subset of the long-horned Ankole, a breed of cattle found in Uganda, Democratic Republic of Congo, Rwanda, Burundi, and Tanzania. The Ankole themselves are a subset of Sanga cattle, indigenous breeds from southern Africa.

During the period of the traditional Rwandan monarchy, Inyambo were bred and trained for royal parades. They would be presented as dignitaries during ceremonies honoring the king.

They’re still treated like royalty today. Shepherds croon love songs to the animals to keep them peaceful and obedient. The cows, who each have a name and are tended to like members of the family, are trained to listen to their shepherds’ songs as a means of following their commands.

While the Inyambo at the King’s Palace arguably may be the happiest and most peaceful of their kind, they aren’t the only ones in existence. Small herds live in several places in Rwanda and Uganda. But calculating exactly how many Inyambo exist outside of this protected herd is difficult.

For one thing, Rwandan culture suggests that asking a shepherd how many cows he owns is akin to asking how rich he is. Boasting about the number of one’s cattle is seen as rude and puts a shepherd at risk of theft.

Beyond that, many shepherds have a deeply held cultural belief that counting animals leads to those animals’ death. Because of this, the Inyambo are not typically tagged. Recordkeeping can also vary greatly among shepherds, with some knowing the names of each animal like they’d know the names of their children and others taking a more relaxed approach.

A third challenge: With the exception of closed herds like the one at the royal palace, the cattle roam over large territories, often moving across international borders.

This makes knowing if Inyambo are endangered, or at risk of extinction, nearly impossible, although we do know they aren’t exactly plentiful.

Donald Rugira-Kugonza, an associate professor of animal sciences at Makerere University in Uganda, has attempted to count the Inyambo as part of his research. He says that in addition to the lack of recordkeeping and the reluctance to inventory the cattle, there’s a more fundamental challenge in knowing how many exist — a difference of opinion on what, exactly, constitutes an Inyambo.

“Part of the problem is we don’t have it well defined,” Rugira-Kugonza says. “This is what we are trying to do. Let’s document what makes this special animal, how tall should it be, how long should the horns be, at what angles, and so on.”

That’s a normal process for determining breeds — of everything from farm animals to dogs and cats — but trying to doing the same thing for Inyambo isn’t easy.

“The trouble comes when you bring one set of farmers and say, ‘Identify for me the animals that you say are Inyambo.’ They pick out two. Another person says, ‘No, all those ten,’” Rugira-Kugonza says. “So what we need really to conserve this breed [is] to have people agree, ‘This is it. That’s how it looks.’”

2 adorned Inyambo drink from a trough while a third, unadorned Inyambo looks directly at the camera.
Two adorned Inyambo drink from a trough while a third, unadorned Inyambo looks directly at the camera. Photo by Molly McCluskey

Descendants of the King’s Herd

Even carefully maintained heritage records can’t solve every problem for rare breeds. Rugira-Kugonza and his research team found evidence of inbreeding issues with the open herds they studied, and he expresses concern for closed herds, like the one at the King’s Palace.

“If you keep only the nucleus, like at Nyanza, it’s a small herd,” Rugira-Kugonza says. “And then it means any time there is a serious disease, it can easily bring down the whole herd. It’s likely to go inbred, and then it will disappear.”

And the threat of disease isn’t hypothetical.

“We have foot-and-mouth disease, lumpy skin disease, because of animals coming in across the borders,” Rugira-Kugonza says. Other health threats documented in Rwanda include anthrax, brucellosis, tuberculosis, East Coast fever, anaplasmosis, babesiosis, trypanosomiasis, contagious bovine pleuropneumonia, and parasites, according to a report from USAID and the University of Florida.

Concerns about disease traveling from one herd to another across international borders have prompted Rwanda to conduct ambitious disease surveillance throughout the country. As a result, the country is allowing access to fewer cows from neighboring countries.

“Now Rwanda is becoming more closed because they’re also doing some disease surveillance,” Rugira-Kugonza says. “They have been almost closing the border with Tanzania. Between Uganda and Rwanda maybe no more animals are crossing.”

But the future of the Inyambo doesn’t necessarily rely on animals themselves traveling. The National Animal Genetic Resources Centre and Data Bank, a regional gene bank in Entebbe created under the African Union, makes it possible for countries to share genetic material while limiting the risk of diseases.

“The movement of live animals may become more restricted as we go forward, but there is opportunity now for genetic material moving in the form of embryos,” Rugira-Kugonza says. “South Africa has recently imported the Ankole by embryo,” he points out.

Parallels With Mountain Gorillas?

Although Inyambo don’t live in the wild, they have a lot in common with another of Rwanda’s famous species: mountain gorillas. Both species exist in very small numbers, face the risk of disease, and are culturally and economically important.

While Rwanda has had success protecting its mountain gorilla population by cooperating with its neighbors to protect their habitat, protecting the Inyambo comes with more logistical hurdles.

“The good thing with the gorilla is that there is already a geographically defined area at the border of the three countries,” Rugira-Kugonza says. “The problem with the cows is that they move.”

Inyambo conservation can take a lesson from the successful efforts to stabilize and grow the gorilla population. A combination of government subsidies, NGO grants, and tourism revenue made it more financially rewarding to protect the gorillas than to poach them, and the population increased. The same model can be applied to farmers raising large cattle without the usual economic stability of selling their milk and meat. There’s already a growing Inyambo tourism industry, with eco-lodges inviting tourists to see them, festivals celebrating them, and artwork depicting the revered animals.

But as the range of the cattle becomes restricted, the risk of inbreeding heightens. Combined with the many challenges of counting them or even clearly identifying the breed, it soon may be too difficult to know how many Inyambo are left.

But Rugira-Kugonza says the efforts of farmers along Uganda’s Cattle Corridor and elsewhere in the region indicate that Inyambo aren’t likely to become extinct anytime soon. While there may not be many opportunities for royal herds like the one at the King’s Palace, there are many farmers throughout the region — including the controversial president of Uganda — who are passionate about the Inyambo and remain committed to continuing to raise them.

That passion may be the key to their survival.

“The best way to say we can conserve them is to say they can stay outside royal hands by a group of passionate people, and then they are conserving it following a standard procedure,” Rugira-Kugonza says. “There cannot be just one group, but maybe 20, 30, 40 farmers keeping them gainfully, earning from them. Then we can conserve the Inyambo.”

Molly McCluskey traveled to Rwanda at the invitation of the Embassy of Rwanda in Washington.

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Sparrow Spared, Cactus Extinct, and More Links From the Brink

This month’s best and worst environmental stories also include a rebounding lynx, a climate lawsuit boom, and a spa for frogs.

Earlier this month I visited some friends at their home on the banks of the Columbia River — a house that could soon be under the Columbia River due to climate change and sea-level rise.

That same week we got news about Hurricane Beryl causing destructive floods around the United States, along with devastating floods in Brazil, India, China, and Kenya. Other floods this month caused destruction and fatalities in Liberia, Afghanistan, Indonesia, and several other U.S. states.

Is it any wonder that the sound of dripping water plunges me into a panic attack?

Welcome to Links From the Brink.

Best News of the Month:

When I last wrote about the Florida grasshopper sparrow (Ammodramus savannarum floridanus) in 2018, the critically endangered bird species had experienced a devastating population crash, leaving fewer than 100 individuals in the wild. As one conservationist told me at the time, “This is going to be North America’s next extinct bird if we do nothing.”

Well, we did do something. Some of the last birds were brought into captivity before they could die out, and even since then they’ve been breeding like there’s no tomorrow. As a result, they have a tomorrow. This month the Florida Fish and Wildlife Commission and partner organizations released their 1,000th captive-bred grasshopper sparrow into the wild. This seems to indicate that these rare birds have been saved from what just a few years ago seemed like an extinction in the making.

There’s a lesson in this amazing milestone: “These little birds represent a big beacon of hope that our commitment, partnership and holistic approach can save vulnerable wildlife from the brink of extinction,” as Fish and Wildlife Foundation of Florida president Andrew Walker told The Guardian.

Of course, all the captive breeding in the world can’t save a species if it has nowhere to live. Florida remains one of the most development-hungry places in the United States, and grasshopper sparrows’ habitat still needs protection and restoration. But 1,000 birds in six years is an amazing achievement, and it’s one worthy of celebration and emulation.

More Good News That May Have Fallen Through the Cracks:

Lynx from the brink: The Iberian lynx (Lynx pardinus), once critically endangered, has recovered thanks to decades of intense conservation effort. The IUCN last month reassessed the species as merely “vulnerable to extinction.” In 2005 the lynx population had fallen to an estimated 84 mature cats; the most recent count put them at a healthy (but still risky) 648.

Iberian lynx

The small predators benefitted from efforts to increase previously overhunted rabbit populations, which, once restored, finally gave the lynx plenty to eat and thrive. The IUCN warns, though, that another rabbit crash, a disease, or high mortality from roads could quickly undo this conservation victory.

Wolves: When wolves returned to Washington state in 2008, many hunters bemoaned that white-tail deer populations would suffer. Well, guess what — it didn’t happen. New research shows that wolves have had a minimal effect on deer in the Evergreen State — far below that of cougars (which also get a bad rap in WA) and habitat loss (i.e., development — the bane of communities throughout the West as people flock to this part of the country).

Meanwhile Washington rejected a push to remove state endangered-species status for wolves and lowered its previously lax cougar-hunting quotas to more sustainable levels. Conservationists praised both decisions. We imagine wolves and mountain lions were pretty happy, too.

Europe: After two years of debate, the European Union passed its Nature Restoration Law last month — which, according to news site Euractiv, “will set legally binding targets to restore 20% of the EU’s degraded land and sea ecosystems by 2030 and all ecosystems by 2050.” The bill got watered down a bit (farmers get a bit of a pass), but this seems like a good model for other 30×30 goals. (Speaking of which, six years is still a pretty tight deadline … )

Sued: A new report finds that the number of companies facing climate-related lawsuits keeps rising dramatically — and that most of these corporations are losing in court. Most of the recent lawsuits target so-called “climate-washing” — a willful misrepresentation of their progress toward promised climate goals. (The lessons: Lies cost you $$$.)

Fined: More losing: Marathon Oil just got socked with a $64.5 million fine for Clean Air Act violations at the Fort Berhold Indian Reservation in North Dakota, in the heart of the Bakken shale oil fields. The company must also pay another $177 million toward reducing its future emissions. General Motors, meanwhile, must pony up $146 million in fines because its vehicles emitted at least 10% more carbon dioxide than their compliance reports claimed. (Either of these items could actually go in the “bad news” category, since the spewing of greenhouse gasses and other pollutants went on so long before either company got caught and punished, but we’ll leave them in with the other wins for now as a warning to other gasbag corporations.)

Fined, part 2: French regulators this month fined conservative broadcaster CNews €20,000 (about $22,000) for allowing a pundit to spread climate skepticism (aka disinformation) without editorial follow-up or rebuttal.

I’ll admit, as an advocate of free speech and the free press, I have doubts about this approach to forcing balance from news outlets. For one thing, it seems the right wing could have weaponized this approach to water down good climate reporting if they’d come to power in France in this month’s narrowly won elections. Still, I’m intrigued and wonder if this could help stem the tide of further disinformation or if it will just cause pundits to double down on their lies. (Probably the latter, alas.)

Spa day:Frog saunas” could help an endangered Australian species, the green and golden bell frog (Ranoidea aurea), recover from the deadly chytrid fungus, which has caused dozens of amphibian extinctions over the past few years. (This technique hasn’t proven helpful for other species, unfortunately.)

Frogs poke out of the holes in a wall of bricks
Frogs enjoy their day in the sun. Photo courtesy Macquarie University

Vroom vroom: Another new report finds that rural families are saving thousands of dollars a year with electric vehicles. (Yes, these are the same rural families who many people assumed would resist transitioning away from gas-powered cars, trucks, and farm equipment. Shows what the “experts” know.)

Renewables: China is building twice as much renewable energy (specifically wind and solar) as every other country combined. (How do you say “This should light a fire under everyone else’s ass” in a carbon-neutral manner?)

(Seriously though, I don’t want to blindly praise China for this; its environmental record is terrible. But so is ours, so c’mon folks, catch up.)

And finally, a peak: Even fossil-fuel companies predict the world will hit peak oil demand next year. They see the writing on the wall (and the lawsuits in the wings?).

Worst News of the Month:

Getting back to that theme of flooding, the United States just lost its first species due to sea-level rise: the Key Largo tree cactus (Pilosocereus millspaughii).

Despite its geographically based monicker, this rare cactus grows on a handful of scattered islands in the Caribbean. But it’s no longer found in its namesake Key Largo — storm surges inundated the limestone outcrop where it once grew, increasing salt levels beyond what the plants could tolerate. The storms also washed away a lot of soil, which is kind of a basic need for plants.

It wasn’t just the salt water that caused problems. These cacti stored fresh water in their bodies, which then became a source of hydration for thirsty animals when the coasts became inundated with undrinkable sea water.

The cactus declined quickly amidst this one-two-three punch. In 2021 the Key Largo population — previously described as “thriving” — had deteriorated to just six stands. This month scientists announced that even those last individuals had disappeared.

But the species still exists on other islands, and scientists harvested the last Key Largo plants’ flowers and fruits in 2021 to cultivate them in a greenhouse setting. So far they’re doing fine, but the chance of replanting them in their native habitat appears slim.

This isn’t a full-on species extinction, but it is a local extinction caused by sea-level rise, the first of its kind identified to date in the United States. And it could be a portent of things to come, as botanist Jennifer Possley said in a press release: “Unfortunately, the Key Largo tree cactus may be a bellwether for how other low-lying coastal plants will respond to climate change.”

That said, I’m going to nudge this back into the “kinda-good” category, because at least scientists recognized the problem in time, saved what they could, and took the opportunity to warn us about future threats. That’s the type of proactive conservation that we should all aspire to and celebrate, even if it’s a part of the ongoing extinction crisis.

Bad News Quick Hits:

(Sorry. Let’s not dwell, but let’s not look away, either.)

Quote of the Month:

“Inside your trash can is the possibility to change the world if you apply some creativity and some love. All trash is treasure.” — Troll artist Thomas Dambo, in The Washington Post

 

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That’s it for this edition of Links From the Brink. We’ll be back in a month or two with another roundup of under-the-radar news stories. Until then, keep an eye on the 2024 election, watch out for heat waves and wildfire smoke (not to mention floods), and check in on your neighbors in need (both human and wild).

Meanwhile, mark your calendars for International Owl Awareness Day on Aug. 4, World Krill Day on Aug. 11, Panamanian Golden Frog Day on Aug. 14, and (my favorite) International Orangutan Day on Aug. 19.

What will you be watching in the months ahead?

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Species Spotlight: The Coastal Sage Scrub Oak, an Unassuming Cornerstone of its Ecosystem

Animals, plants, and fungi depend on this humble tree, but its future — and theirs — is all but certain.

Species SpotlightAt first glance the hills and valleys covered in coastal sage scrub oak are little more than a featureless green swath. On closer inspection, however, you can recognize it for what it truly is: the beating heart of one of the most genetically rich ecosystems on the planet. Birds, insects, mammals, fungi, and even some other plants find refuge under the boughs of coastal sage scrub oak, while water drawn up from its deep roots spreads out to sustain ground-dwelling organisms.

Species name:

Coastal sage scrub oak or Nuttall’s scrub oak (Quercus dumosa)

Description:

The coastal sage scrub oak rarely grows more than about 7 feet tall, but it can spread outward a great distance thanks to its lateral branches and multiple trunks. The trees’ small, spiny leaves emerge in the spring soft and bright green, but gradually toughen and darken to a dusty dark green by summer. Their acorns tend to be thin and elongated, almost conical.

Q. dumosa acorn. Photo courtesy San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance

Where it’s found:

The coastal sage scrub oak, as its name implies, is found along coastal areas in Southern and Baja California. The full extent of its range is the subject of spirited debate, as it shares many similar physical characteristics with other scrub oaks found more inland. In San Diego County, the remaining populations of coastal sage scrub oak exist in fragmented populations, usually in wildlife reserves, like islands in a sea of urban development.

IUCN Red List status:

Endangered

Major threats:

Urban development destroyed much of this tree’s habitat, and its remnant population still faces this threat, along with several others. The introduction of grasses and other highly flammable nonnative species, like eucalyptus, have increased fire frequency and intensity. Escaped ornamental plants and grasses can outcompete oak saplings for light, space, and water. And climate change is resulting in disruptions to precipitation, which stresses all populations.

Notable conservation programs or legal protections:

The San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance is spearheading the development of new ex situ conservation methods, including the use of tissue culture and cryopreservation, to prevent further loss of the coastal sage scrub oak’s genetic diversity. Through partner networks, such as the Global Conservation Consortium – Oak and the Center for Plant Conservation, we exchange information and know-how with many partner organizations. Each organization can specialize in some method of preventing the loss of a species, whether that be working with local, state, or federal authorities; technology development and implementation; reforestation and land restoration; or what might be eventually the most important method, reaching out to the general public to show them how they can make a difference, large or small. The coastal sage scrub oak, as well as the other endangered species native to the coastal sage scrub and chaparral ecosystem, requires focused and sustained effort from all these methods, so, by participating in networks, we effectively pool our strengths.

My favorite experience:

While collecting tissue samples after a spring rain, I took a moment to look at the tracks imprinted into the soft ground. Animal prints were everywhere — mule deer, raccoon, fox, opossum, roadrunner, and what I hoped were those of an exceedingly large bobcat and not a mountain lion. I rarely saw any of these animals during the day but, thanks to the rain, it was clear that they were all around me — present but hidden within the oaks.

Q. dumosa amidst a rocky backdrop. Photo courtesy San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance

What I could see, however, were the many birds flying from tree to tree, reminding me of fish swimming among outcrops of coral. Insects buzzed all around. Galls created by tiny wasps were starting to grow from some of the oaks. By summer, some of these galls would grow to the size and color of a peach, bobbing slowly in wind scented with wildflowers, sunbaked dust, and sagebrush. I knew that under my feet deep roots reached toward the precious groundwater that would sustain the forest during the dry season, and spreading from those roots were mycorrhizal fungi that would work with the oaks to support each other.

I grew up among the firs, cedars, hemlocks, and maples of the Pacific Northwest. I always thought forests needed to be composed of tall, majestic trees christened with carpets of rolling moss. Yet this sea of small, scraggly oaks held so much life. My perspective grew. It’s one thing to read about this ecosystem and another matter entirely to truly see it and understand how precious it is.

Key research:

Do you live in or near a threatened habitat or community, or have you worked to study or protect endangered wildlife? You’re invited to share your stories in our ongoing features, Protect This Place and Species Spotlight

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The Beaver Seekers

Citizen scientists are helping restore the ecosystem engineers to the Cascade-Siskiyou National Monument.

“What do you think about this?” My friend, Sonya Daw, had called out to me from where she was standing at the edge of Beaver Creek. I joined her. I had just scrambled over a massive log and was grateful for an excuse to catch my breath.

“Hmm,” I said, still breathing hard. In front of us, water burbled over some branches that had fallen across the creek. Had they fallen, though? Or had they possibly been placed there by beavers?

As one of 11 teams taking part in a “beaver scavenger hunt” across the Cascade-Siskiyou National Monument in southwest Oregon, we were looking for any sign of beavers — willow stumps, sticks with “corn-on-the-cob”-style teeth marks, or even scent mounds, which beavers use to mark territories. What we and the other teams discovered would help the nonprofit Project Beaver focus their beaver-restoration efforts.

My team included Sonya, who writes for the National Park Service, her husband Charlie Schelz, the former monument ecologist, and Barb Settles, a spry 78-year-old and avid naturalist.

Barb Settles, in blue jacket and tan cap, leans over a healthy expanse of plants
Photo: Juliet Grable

Charlie joined us, and we contemplated the creek. “I don’t think that’s anything,” he said. “But look how the sediment is piling up behind the branches; how cool is that?”

It was June 1 — not just a beautiful time to be hiking through the forest but the ideal window for beaver activity. Beaver moms have their babies in late spring and then send their older offspring packing. These dispersing youngsters are on the move, exploring new creeks and sampling the buffet of plants.

We took our time in flatter areas, especially where willows or red osier dogwood — beaver “dessert plants” — grew in clumps near the banks. We weren’t likely to find beavers along this steep stretch, but it was still fun to look and marvel at the enormous sugar pines, Douglas firs, and incense cedars that had escaped loggers’ chainsaws last century.

Wanted: Ecosystem Engineers

The Cascade-Siskiyou National Monument encompasses 114,000 acres, mostly in southwest Oregon. The Klamath and Cascade Mountains converge here, creating a patchwork of oak woodlands, forests, grasslands, and wetlands support a dazzling array of butterflies, bees, birds, and plants, including many that are found nowhere else.

President Bill Clinton designated the monument in 2000, not for its stunning canyons or breathtaking vistas but its “outstanding biological diversity.” In 2017 President Barack Obama expanded the monument by another 48,000 acres.

Beavers undoubtedly once populated the many streams and meadows, but by the time the monument was designated, they had been all but eradicated — the case all over Oregon. Now there is only one known established beaver family in the entire monument, says Jakob Shockey, executive director at Project Beaver. There could be others; Shockey says he’s seen evidence of random individuals on several creeks.

The Bureau of Land Management manages the monument but has partnered with the nonprofit to help bring beavers back. The task has become more urgent in the face of recent drought, which has left its mark in swaths of dead conifers. This part of southwest Oregon is dry and hot in summer, and getting more so. Beaver dams could help hold more moisture on the landscape, attracting more birds in the process. Wet meadows engineered by beavers could even serve as a firebreak, helping tame the spread of catastrophic wildfires.

Friends of the Cascade-Siskiyou National Monument, the group that hosted the scavenger hunt, is a key player in the project.

“We see our role as letting people know what makes the monument special and what’s needed to support the ecological integrity of this special place,” says Friends’ executive director Collette Streight.

Friends has hosted several “bio-blitz” events, where volunteers fan out in search of butterflies or reptiles. Streight wanted to create an event with the “juicy” energy of a bio-blitz that produced data with practical applications. After talking with Schelz, Shockey, and others, she honed in on beavers.

Photo: Friends of Cascade-Siskiyou National Monument

Pond of Dreams

Ultimately, the key to attracting beavers — and more importantly, convincing them to stay and set up shop — is restoring habitat. This “build it and they will come” approach can attract beavers from miles away.

“One of the first steps is to get information: Where are the beavers, and what are they doing right now?” says Streight.

Last summer, they beta-tested the scavenger hunt with a “Hike and Learn” led by Shockey.

“We need to know this information, and it really will impact future restoration work,” says Shockey. “What I don’t have is the ability to walk a bunch of creeks by myself.”

We didn’t find any evidence of beavers on our steep stretch of creek, but after clambering back to the car, we had just enough time to check out a meadow on the upper portion of Beaver Creek, where last fall Project Beaver installed a series of post-assisted log structures, or PALS.

The broad, flat meadow was a totally different landscape from where we’d been searching. Our boots squished as we wandered through clumps of sodden grass. Soon Sonya and I were reaching for our binoculars. Birdsong filled the meadow: Lazuli buntings called from the willows; robins chortled from a massive pine at the meadow’s edge. I broke out the Merlin bird-identification app to sort through the confounding songs of warblers.

Charlie pointed out one of the PALS — several small posts pounded into the creek bottom, with willows woven between them. Water had pooled behind the structure, creating a shallow, murky pond full of bugs.

A man in a blue shirt and red cap leans over a body of water, with short wood poles sticking up along the edge
Photo: Juliet Grable

“This is great to see,” he said, as he bent low to admire butterflies dancing across the surface and examine willow stakes that had been planted there. They were starting to leaf out. It wasn’t difficult to imagine a beaver setting up shop here, and not just for the scenery.

“Beavers like to surround themselves with water; it helps keep them from being eaten,” Charlie told us. Without that buffer, beavers are an easy (and meaty) target for a host of predators, including cougars, bobcats, bears, coyotes, wolves, and of course, humans.

A Rebranding Campaign

Beavers, once pilloried as pests, have undergone an image makeover in the Beaver State, thanks in part to legislative champions. Last year Oregon’s governor signed the “Beaver Believer” bill, which recognizes the rodent’s potential role in mitigating climate change. Beavers, whom the state had perplexingly classified as predators (they’re vegetarians), have now been rebranded as furbearers. As of this July, private landowners must obtain a permit before they can trap or kill so-called “nuisance” beavers. For the first time, the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife will also begin collecting data on all beavers killed in Oregon.

Some conservationists have been lobbying the Biden administration to ban hunting and trapping of beavers on federal lands. More locally, advocates have pushed for a trapping ban within the monument’s borders. They hoped it would be included in a new draft “Resource Management Plan” released by the BLM this year, but it was nixed.

Shockey has mixed feelings about such a proposal.

“Traditionally, trapping bans have been used as a wedge issue between those who hunt and those who don’t,” says Shockey. Increasingly, anglers and hunters are coming to appreciate beavers’ good work in streams and meadows — the places they fish and hunt.

And, as Shockey points out, a trapping ban won’t matter if beavers are shot out of spite. Having more beaver advocates actively monitoring in the monument might be the most effective way to protect the animals. Events like the scavenger hunt help by elevating their profile, making more people aware of their presence and importance.

“Beavers are so interesting in the way that people relate them,” says Shockey. “They’re kind of a charismatic animal and they’re easy to find compared to a lot of wildlife that people care about, yet they’re still pretty invisible.”

Setting the Stage

Late in the afternoon, after the scavenger hunt had run its course, 50 or so tired but happy citizen scientists reconvened at the local elementary school to share their findings. A few teams had discovered fresh sign, including along one stretch of creek where Shockey had never detected beavers before. Teams that found no fresh beaver signs shared other sightings — a snake skin, a junco nest, blooming lilies, chewed willow stumps from years past.

 

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Shockey was pleased. “The data are going to directly inform where we’re going to do restoration,” he said, after he’d thanked the volunteers.

“I’m incredibly proud about what we accomplished,” says Streight. From the fundraising campaign to last-minute scrambling when two team leaders cancelled, the scavenger hunt had required a huge amount of effort. Best of all, no one had twisted an ankle or succumbed to heatstroke.

She hopes to capitalize on the scavenger hunt’s momentum. “We feel we could have volunteers at the ready” to help Shockey’s crew monitor sites or plant willow stakes, she says. “They are really jazzed.”

Project Beaver and the BLM have secured $227,000 for beaver restoration, which is enough to support an eight-person crew for three years. Each spring and fall, they will spend two weeks building and repairing structures in creeks, with the ultimate goal of enticing beavers back. They hope to allow beavers to find the habitat on their own and start breeding.

“Can we increase the amount of beaver activity through our restoration work? That’s how we’re going to measure success,” says Shockey.

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Previously in The Revelator:

Can Wildlife Services Learn to Believe in Beavers?

Wolverines Continue Their Comeback — This Time in Colorado

A new law will allow the state’s wildlife agency to reintroduce the endangered species.

Colorado Gov. Jared Polis has signed a law to allow wildlife authorities to reintroduce the North American wolverine to the state. Under the law Colorado Parks and Wildlife is expected to create new rules for a wolverine reintroduction program, as well as set guidelines for compensating ranchers and farmers for potential financial losses from any damage to livestock. (Wolverines typically prey on rabbits and other small mammals but have been known to take down animals are large as elk or moose; experts say they rarely prey on livestock.)

Colorado has been attempting to reintroduce wolverines for nearly 15 years. The state first floated a potential program in 2010, but officials opted to reintroduce lynx first. The state wildlife agency estimates Colorado is now home to as many as 250 lynx.

The Northern American wolverine’s natural habitat includes snowy, cold climates. They’ve traditionally been found in the northern Rockies and North Cascade mountain ranges and parts of Alaska and Canada. However, due to aggressive hunting, climate change, and habitat fragmentation, they have been virtually eliminated across the United States. In November 2023 the North American wolverine received federal protection as a threatened species under the Endangered Species Act. Meanwhile, the species has recently started to expand its range — one wandering wolverine was even spotted last year near Portland, Oregon, and may still be patrolling the region.

Most people will never have an opportunity to see reclusive wolverines in the wild, but they’ve appeared several times in the pages of The Revelator. Here’s some of our previous coverage of this fascinating species:

What’s Needed to Save Wolverines? A New Study Has Answers

Wolverines are notoriously elusive, which has made them hard to study. And harder to protect.

Often dwelling in high mountain reaches and denning in deep snow, wolverines (Gulo gulo) prefer to stay away from people. Although evidence has long suggested their populations have declined, some scientists and policymakers have, for years, fallen back on a common trope that not enough is known about them to warrant protective action.

But a new study published in Global Ecology and Conservation flips this narrative — and renews the call for conservation.

“It turns out we actually know a lot more than we thought we did about this creature,” says Aerin Jacob, a conservation scientist at the Yellowstone to Yukon Conservation Initiative.

Read more.

Carnivore Conservation Is Tougher in the Mountains

When the Yakama Nation detected a wolverine on Washington’s Mt. Adams in 2005, outside the animal’s known distribution, Jocelyn Akins wanted to learn more. Was it part of a population that hadn’t been previously known or a lone animal seeking new territory?

To answer those questions, Akins, who had previously studied wolverines and grizzly bears in the Rocky Mountains, launched the Cascades Carnivore Project in 2008. Studying these elusive and rare mountain carnivores is no easy feat. After setting up remote camera traps with the help of friends and other volunteers, it was 15 months before they got their first photograph of a wolverine. And it wasn’t until 2018 when field researchers working with Akins documented the first female wolverine in 75 years in Washington’s South Cascade Mountains.

Read more.

A Wolverine Feasts — on Fish?

Wolverine is Gulo gulo; the glutton so nice they named it twice. Across their range, they are known to eat goats, grouse, goose eggs and everything between. People have been picking apart their scat for half a century. I had never heard of anyone finding fish scales.

In the coming days, to my amazement, Nimbus marched back to the channel and sat at its center for hours, accumulating GPS locations at a baffling rate. From camp, I inspected our photos of the barren ice, imagining him there. What on earth was he doing?

Read more.

Road to Nowhere: Highways Pose Existential Threat to Wolverines

This is not a good time to be a wolverine.

The infamously scrappy, snow-adapted mustelid — a relation of badgers, martens and otters — is barely hanging on in the contiguous United States, where its population has dipped to mere hundreds. Decades of habitat loss and trapping reduced the wolverine’s numbers, and now diminishing snowpack from climate change is adding insult to injury.

And we can add one more surprising threat to the list: roads.

Yes, even though wolverines thrive in remote, snowy wildernesses, roads can still pose a problem — but perhaps not in the way you might think.

Read more.

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Global Warming Funnies

For cartoonist Tom Toro, humor about climate change attacks hypocrisy, supports truth, and fuels resistance.

Think climate change isn’t funny? Try telling that to cartoonist Tom Toro. The frequent New Yorker contributor, who also writes and draws a comic strip called “Home Free,” often points his pen at the pain and hypocrisy behind the climate crisis and other environmental issues, with blistering results.

It’s not just about mocking the systems and people behind the problems. As Toro tells The Revelator, humor provides worried readers with a laughter-induced catharsis.

At the same time, he points out, humor serves a vital form of resistance.

Platt: This is a tough time for the planet — but also for political cartooning. Most newspapers don’t have staff cartoonists anymore.

Toro: Still, this is a boom time for journalism. There’s plenty of material out there. People are really seeing, more than ever now, the value of the fourth estate and holding power accountable.

Yeah, journalism as the co-equal fourth branch of government. But it’s almost like cartooning should be the fifth branch.

Cartooning is definitely a good part of it. I think people are just really hungry for satire.

It’s tricky, though. You don’t want to minimize things and you don’t want to trivialize. But there’s a way of clarifying an idea in a single panel with a caption. The power, the clarity of that, I think is what’s really appealing.

 

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Cartooning is so well suited to the sort of media diet that people have nowadays. The short captions appeal to kind of the Twitter mentality. It’s just ideally suited to the way that people receive media.

You are always looking for the pithiest caption. Wordiness is kind of the death of a quip. You’ve got to cut like a knife.

But marrying those words with art — how does that shape the satire in comics form?

For the cartoonist — editorial cartoonist, New Yorker cartoonist, whatever — you’re really looking for the stuff that you can attack with the strengths of your own art form. What can I do in a cartoon that they can’t do on Saturday Night Live? That’s the kind of stuff that you really try to hone in on.

Every day I catch up on what Seth Meyers and Stephen Colbert did, and SNL — it’s something funny that we all watch, and everyone kind of attacks the same material. There’s a little bit of repetition that goes into it.

With the cartoonists, it’s like, well, what can I do? Because in cartoons you don’t have to obey physics. You don’t have the sort of constraints of a production of Saturday Night Live. They might shy away from an idea just because it’s not necessarily worth it to create an entire set.

And sometimes those “sets” for you are just a moment in cartoon time.

Yeah. Probably my most popular one was the one that was the sort of postapocalyptic landscape and the guy who’s kind an investment banker talking to some children around a fire saying, “yes, the planet got destroyed, but for a beautiful moment in time, we created a lot of value for shareholders.” That’s probably been my most popular one. And I was surprised when the New Yorker took it.

 

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That brings up something I hear from freelance or staff journalists, who still have challenges getting editors to accept environmental topics.

I’ve submitted a lot of carbon footprint stuff. I have this one they just refuse to buy where there’s two women sitting on the table and she’s saying, “my heart says Jack because he has a private jet, but my head says, date Don, because he has a small carbon footprint.”

There’s that sort of stuff where it’s, like, lifestyle choices that yuppies can make based on trying to have a low impact on the Earth kind of thing. So you’re trying to find humor in environmental stuff. It’s a little bit hard to sell as a gag.

 

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It’s not that the New Yorker is not environmentally conscious, but they sometimes don’t want their jokes to address the same stuff that the journalism is addressing. The jokes have to kind of live in their own world and not necessarily be comments on what they’re approaching in their articles. So whenever you manage to slip one in there, the planet got destroyed, it’s gratifying.

Are there other reasons why more cartoonists don’t address environmental issues?

Maybe because it’s just uniquely hard to find levity in that. Or there’s something about climate change that’s hard to particularize because it’s such a sweeping thing and the actual impact on our first-world lives is not entirely evident.

Whereas with politics, it’s right in our face all the time. Maybe if global warming was on the front page every single day. There’s no reason why it shouldn’t be something that was more addressed in the culture of humor. But I think we’re still in denial.

And it’s tough. I mean, climate change is the death of a thousand paper cuts, and it’s hard to be that scalpel blade cutting through the humor of a particular thing when it’s all this slow incremental change that adds up over time.

Right? Yeah. There’s no smoking gun and there’s only so many polar bears you can draw on shrinking ice floes. That’s the stereotypical image. Not a lot of political cartoonists are addressing it.

There would probably be more of a variety of topics you could address if we were living in more of a sane political environment. But yeah, it’s like you were saying, it’s the death of a thousand cuts and how you particularize that?

I mean, I have kind of a silly one where there’s an Eskimo, and the ice is receding. And so they’re saying, “well, one good thing about climate change is I can find all my lost pens” — and all the pens are on the ground that’s cleared by the melting ice. There’s stuff like that that I try to do.

You’ve got to give people that catharsis.

Yeah, bringing up catharsis is interesting. Do you think cartoons can be useful in today’s mental environment in terms of changing people’s minds about anything? I mean, you can also go back to the original editorial cartoons taking down all the New York City bosses and things like that. Obviously, they had a political edge, and they did have an effect. Do you think cartooning still has any of that power on individuals or society?

I think it is powerful in terms of just giving fuel to what’s become known as the resistance. I think people are hungry for it, and it has a way of lending force to the ideas that are going into the resistance. I don’t know if humor can necessarily change the world, but it can definitely buoy up the movements that will change the world.

 

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The power of jokes is that they’re truth-telling, but they do it in a way that’s surprising and funny. At the core of it, they’re demystifying something. They’re telling some truth. They’re pointing out a hypocrisy in people who are in power. And so I think the more that you can lend humor to the cause of the resistance, the more that you stack facts on that side of the argument — because there’s such a countervailing force against the resistance to call it fake news, to keep the shroud of doubt around things that are self-evidently true, that you have to keep pushing that boulder uphill.

And I think that cartoons, in the way that they can really clarify an idea in a simple form and be memorable in that way, sort of put the shoulder to the wheel in terms of keeping the energy on the side of truthfulness and factuality. Because jokes don’t work unless they’re true.

That’s something that I’ve found really to be useful in terms of clarifying what I’m trying to do. And I’ve also found it to be, in itself, a true statement.

The reason we find jokes funny, and particularly the Daily Show kind of jokes or political cartoons, is because it’s almost that sort of burst — just opening the window and getting that breath of fresh air. It’s like, “oh, that is true.” It’s sort of an epiphany moment when a joke works.

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Previously in The Revelator:

Seeds of Truth: Johnny Appleseed’s Context and Legacy

Coastal Restoration: Saving Sand

Increasing demand for this seemingly abundant and common material harms human and natural communities — and fuels a lucrative and dangerous illegal industry.

Coastal ecosystems — including oyster reefs, sandy beaches, mangrove forests and seagrass beds provide important habitat for marine life and food and recreation for people. They also protect shorelines from waves and storms. But these precious systems face serious threats. This series looks at what put them at risk, along with examples of efforts to restore and protect important coastal ecosystems around the world.

We need to talk about sand.

Most people don’t realize that these humble grains — that ubiquitous stuff of vacations, ant farms and hourglasses — are the second-most used natural resource in the world after water. According to a 2019 report from the United Nations Environment Programme, we use more than 55 billion tons of it per year — nearly 40 pounds per person per day.

And a lot of that sand comes from illegal activity, involving criminal gangs who mine, smuggle, and kill for the precious material.

The Building Blocks of Modern Society

Sand — legal or otherwise — gets used to enhance beaches, extract petroleum through hydraulic fracking, fill land under buildings, and make computer chips.

But the biggest amount by far — an estimated 85% of the sand mined globally — goes into making concrete. Concrete combines two key ingredients: cement, a binding agent made from calcium or other substances, and aggregate, which is either sand or a combination of sand and gravel. Quality concrete requires jagged and angular aggregate grains — a quality found in only a tiny fraction of the worlds’ sand, most of it on beaches and in rivers. This sand also is easy and cheap to mine, and it’s located close to much of the construction taking place around the world.

According to the United Nations Environment Programme, world consumption of aggregate for all uses exceeds 40 billion metric tons (44 billion U.S. tons) a year — an estimate that’s likely on the conservative side and represents about twice the amount of sediment carried annually by all the world’s rivers. (Sediment from land rocks is the source of most coastal sand, which also comes from shells and marine organisms pulverized by waves, the digestive tracts of coral-eating fish, and the remains of tiny creatures called foraminifera.)

Not surprisingly, UNEP calls management of sand one of the greatest sustainability challenges of the 21st century.

Deserted sand and gravel mining

The organization also warns about sand mining’s serious consequences for humans and the natural environment.

Removing beach sand leaves coastal structures more vulnerable to erosion even as climate change raises sea levels and makes storms more intense. Transporting sand generates carbon dioxide emissions. Sand mining has political and cultural consequences, including effects on the tourism industry, and creates noise and air pollution.

Sand Mining Objections

Coastal sand mining also destroys complex ecosystems. The microorganisms, crabs, and clams that live in beach sand are important food sources for birds. Sea turtles and several bird species nest on sandy beaches. Seagrass, an important food source and habitat for marine residents, needs sandy ocean floor to grow. Stretches of underwater sand provide habitat for sea stars, sea cucumbers, conchs, and other critters, and are feeding grounds for flounder, rays, fish, and sharks.

Removing sand also affects water quality in the ocean and depletes groundwater.

Stolen Sand

Yet this harm is not the only issue. Increasing demand for sand has created a vast illegal industry resembling the organized criminal drug trade, including the same violence, black markets, and piles of money — an estimated $200 to $350 billion a year. Of all the sand extracted globally every year, only about 15 billion metric tons are legally traded, according to a report from the Global Initiative Against Transnational Organized Crime.

Pascal Pedruzzi, director of UNEP’s Global Resource Information Database-Geneva, became aware of illegal sand mining when the Jamaican government asked UNEP in 2014 to find out why the island had a serious beach erosion problem.

“There was a lot we didn’t know about sand extraction, including how much was being taken,” he says.

Or from how many places: Sand is mined from coastal environments in at least 80 countries on six continents, according to the 2022 book Vanishing Sands, written by several geologists and other experts on coastal management and land rights.

The book outlines a litany of sand crimes, from seemingly small to massive. In Sardinia, Italy, airport officials have seized about 10 tons of sand over 10 years, much of it carried in thousands of individual half-quart bottles. In Morocco criminals removed as many as 200 dump trucks of sand a day from massive dunes lining the Atlantic coast.

According to Africa’s Institute for Security Studies, illegal sand mining in Morocco is run by a syndicate second in size only to the country’s drug mafia. It involves corrupt government and law enforcement officials and foreign companies. Much of the Moroccan sand, for example, ends up in buildings in Spain.

In India demand for sand tripled from 2000 to 2017, creating a market worth 150 billion rupees, just over $2 billion. Multiple diverse and competing “sand mafias” run mining sites surrounded by armed private security guards. Their weapons likely are obtained illegally, given the difficult process of acquiring guns legally in India.

Coastal sand mining side event at CBD CoP11.jpg
By Sumaira AbdulaliOwn work, CC BY-SA 3.0, Link

The NGO South Asia Network on Dams, Rivers and People reports hundreds of deaths and injuries related to illegal sand mining in India each year, including citizens (adults and children), journalists, activists, government officials, and law enforcement.

There are similar stories in Bangladesh, Cambodia, elsewhere in Africa, and in the Caribbean — almost everywhere sandy coastal areas can be found.

How to Solve the Problem

UNEP has begun tackling the problem of sand mining, putting forth ten recommendations that include creating international standards for extracting sand from the marine environment, reducing the use of sand by using substitutes, and recycling products made with sand.

While these recommendations target legal sand mining, more responsible management and reduced overall demand also should make illegal mining less lucrative and, therefore, less common.

“The good news is there’s a long list of solutions,” says Peduzzi. “We start by stopping waste of sand. We can make the life of buildings longer, retrofitting them instead of knocking them down. Maybe change the use of a building over time, as a school first and then 50 years later, a place for elderly people. When a building needs to be destroyed, crush and reuse the concrete. Build with wood, bricks, adobe, and straw.”

Building with straw also could reduce burning of crop waste. Every year, India produces 500 million tons of straw but burns 140 million tons as “excess.” One company there, Strawcture Eco, is using straw to create wall and ceiling panels that are fire resistant, insulating, and sustainable.

Alternatives to sand in concrete include ash from waste incineration and aluminum smelting waste. Peduzzi notes that ash creates concrete that is about 10% less solid, but points out, “that is still pretty good. You can use it to make buildings, but maybe not a bridge.”

Embed from Getty Images

The UNEP report notes that involvement from industry, the private sector, and civil society is vital in solving the problem. For example, shifting away from building with concrete will require changing the way architects and engineers are trained, acceptance by building owners, and new laws and regulations.

“We rely on sand, as a commodity,” Peduzzi says. “But we also need to realize its ecosystem services. We must be wiser about how we use it.”

UNEP hopes to collect solutions into a single, accessible online location (although it currently lacks funding for the effort). The idea is to create a hub for policies and technological solutions, Peduzzi says, and to develop best practices for them. The Global Initiative report on India also calls for a website for tracking illegal sand mining hosted by a think-tank or journalism agency — a sort of crime-spotters portal where people could anonymously upload evidence.

Shifting Sands, Shifting Thinking

William Neal, an emeritus professor at Grand Valley State University in Michigan and one of the authors of Vanishing Sands, suggests in an email that finding sand substitutes is not enough. Coastal communities, he says, need to retreat from rising seas rather than build more hard structures such as seawalls. This “shoreline engineering” often destroys the very beaches it is intended to save, he explains, and the long-term cost of saving property through engineering often ends up exceeding the value of the property. Seawalls also tend to simply shift water elsewhere, potentially causing flooding and significant damage along other parts of the shoreline.

Peduzzi also espouses shifts in thinking, including how we get around in cities.

“Instead of building roads for cars, build subways,” he says. “That moves people faster and gets away from fossil fuels. The icing on the cake is that when digging subway tunnels, you are getting rocks, generating this material instead of using it. Cars are not sustainable — not the material to make a car itself or the roads and parking lots.”

Without systemic changes, the problem of sand removal is only going to grow bigger as the population increases and people continue to migrate from rural to urban areas, increasing the demand for infrastructure like roads and buildings.

“The problem has been overlooked,” Peduzzi warns. “People need to realize that sand is just another story of how dependent we are on natural resources for development.”

Previously in The Revelator:

Coastal Restoration: Recycled Shells and Millions of Larvae — A Recipe for Renewed Oyster Reefs

Compounding a Crisis: When Public Health Solutions Worsen Climate Change

The unanticipated environmental effects of inhalers underscore the contradictions of piecemeal climate solutions.

In Louisiana’s “Cancer Alley,” where the air is thick with pollutants and asthma rates are alarmingly high, a troublesome irony is unfolding.

This region is home to sprawling petrochemical plants and toxic fossil fuels that disproportionately affect the respiratory health of the area’s majority-Black residents.

Here, inhalers — one of the key tools for managing diseases like asthma — play a dual role: alleviating symptoms of pollution while also contributing to environmental degradation. This paradox has underscored the urgent need for sustainable solutions that holistically address environmental justice, health, and race equity issues in frontline communities like Cancer Alley.

Inhalers, often viewed as life-saving devices, have a profoundly negative impact on the environment. The most popular of the two main varieties of inhaler, metered-dose inhalers, release a gas that warms the earth hundreds of times faster than carbon dioxide.

A recent investigation by NPR revealed that the cumulative amount of climate-damaging gasses released from traditional inhalers is the equivalent of driving half a million gas-powered cars for a year. This means that each puff contributes significantly to climate disintegration. And as pollution damages more people’s lungs, the need for inhalers increases.

This 85-mile stretch of land wasn’t always referred to as Cancer Alley. Older residents recall a thriving community where many people lived off the nutrient-rich land. However, corporate greed and negligent politicians have irreparably damaged the soil, the land, and the air, leading to some of the highest cancer rates per year for residents.

Cancer alley

Dozens of new cases each year are believed to be linked to severe air pollution. That pollution has also led to high rates of asthma in the area. Even more concerning is data showing the link between pollution, asthma, and cancer is visible in neighborhoods with high poverty rates — but not in more affluent communities, proving again that poverty kills.

The implications of the inhaler paradox are staggering. Not only do frontline communities bear the brunt of pollution-related health burdens, but they also face the ironic reality of using medical interventions that perpetuate the cycle of environmental degradation. Addressing this issue requires collective advocacy and action between healthcare professionals, environmental advocates, policymakers, and community leaders.

We have long approached environmental and public health solutions with a bandaid instead of a cure. The unique problem posed by inhalers releasing toxic gasses that increase climate change is one example why short-term solutions are no longer an acceptable way to manage our climate’s deteriorating health. Frankly speaking, it’s too costly to keep operating under this model when it is costing lives, the health of our planet, and our collective future.

Beyond encouraging the use of other inhalers and safe recycling, it is critical that government agencies do more to address greenhouse gas emissions so that we can proactively focus on prevention efforts instead of doing damage control.

While recent EPA rules on clean vehicles and emission reduction efforts are encouraging, it is not enough to combat the damage we have already done to the planet.

That is why my organization, the Hip Hop Caucus, is working with communities on the frontlines of these issues, uplifting their stories through The Coolest Show. Together we’re pushing back against attempts to roll back the minimal regulations protecting these communities and advocating to shut down operations that disproportionately put Black and brown lives at risk.

We’ve witnessed the effects of corporate greed and climate denial on our planet. It’s untenable to keep proposing short-term public health solutions without addressing the underlying causes of disease. Reports have shown how creating climate friendly policies can save taxpayer dollars in the long run — and more importantly, save lives.

It’s not too late to do right by the 20,000 residents of Cancer Alley. But we must act before it’s too late.

This op-ed was produced by Inequality.org and distributed for syndication by OtherWords.org.

What 70 Celebrity Tortoises Can Teach Us About Conservation Stories

A recent success got a lot of publicity, offering us insight into not only the species but the narratives that resonate with people.

Last November conservationists carefully carried 70 young, critically endangered Mojave Desert tortoises to the reptiles’ natural habitat on Edwards Air Force Base in Southern California. The tortoises had been hatched and reared in captivity, and the team — a collaboration between U.S. Air Force officials at the base, San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance, and The Living Desert Zoo and Gardens in Palm Springs — were hopeful that the animals would survive the rigors of life in the wild, where ravens would try to peck through their shells and coyotes could attack them.

It would take a while to learn how they fared: Soon after their release, the reptiles would hide in underground burrows and go into brumation, a state of inactivity, for the winter.

But six months later, this past April, news of their fate came out: The tortoises had emerged from their burrows healthier and stronger than ever, a notable milestone in the ongoing tortoise conservation story.

Two blue-gloved hands hold aloft a small tortoise in front of some desert greenery
Photo: San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance

The news quickly made headlines around the country. Local outlets covered the outcome, as did the Associated Press, which transmitted it internationally. Even celebrity-focused People magazine profiled the project. The media blitz demonstrated that even though conservation projects can be expensive and time- and energy-intensive, concerted efforts to help species come back from near extinction, and even thrive, can work.

Dozens of conservation success stories come out every year, from bald eagle population surges to black-footed ferret births, zebra shark releases to red wolf habitat protections. Yet few get as much publicity as the tortoises did in the spring.

So why did the story of the tortoises resonate so widely when so many other conservation stories fail to reach the public? The answer may reflect not only the state of human views on our effect on the environment, and our opinions of animals, but also the state of the news industry and what we cover.

“A Huge Downer”

Research published in 2022 by Carlos Corvalan, an advisor on risk assessment and global environmental change at the World Health Organization, suggested that people often feel overwhelmed by today’s biodiversity and climate change crises, which can lead to feelings of helplessness and result in people taking less action, not more.

Bad news about habitat destruction, the effects of greenhouse gas emissions in our atmosphere, and struggling species abound. The public, it seems, is hungry for positive stories.

“In this time, in all times, conservation can be a huge downer,” says James Danoff-Burg, director of conservation at The Living Desert Zoo and Gardens. The tortoise story, however, was about how the reptiles did well in their new environment after months in brumation. “This,” he says, “is a success.”

Another reason that the tortoise story got so much traction may be because they’re cute and unthreatening. Unlike endangered predators, tortoises won’t hurt anyone or take down prey with their fangs. Studies on stories about hyenas and sharks, for example, show that conservation focused on those species is less popular among certain age groups who think of them as scary.

Although tortoises may not qualify as charismatic megafauna — typically thought of as popular, attractive, and well-known animals — they have endearing features and are charmingly awkward.

“We relate to those big eyes,” says Danoff-Burg. “Tortoises, they’re just so funny and odd and alien, but adorable. I think that sold the story as much as anything.”

A tiny tortoise with numbers written on their chest is held aloft by a blue-gloved hand
Photo: San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance

The groups involved also have communications departments that helped narrate the story of the species the organizations care for. Typically it’s up to the researchers themselves to relate successes in the field, but media departments can help tell those stories to a wider audience, says Melissa Merrick, associate director of recovery ecology at San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance.

“They really did a great job in elevating the work that we’ve been doing,” she says. “Not every organization is fortunate to have such a great communications team, and that’s really something that’s overlooked in a lot of conservation work, the importance of getting the story out there and letting people know some of the wins.”

Can the Tortoises’ Media Success Be Duplicated?

If conservationists or public relations professionals want to replicate the Mojave Desert tortoise story success, the task may be difficult, says Betsy Hildebrandt, senior vice president of external affairs for the Association of Zoos and Aquariums. “A great, compelling story often doesn’t land, while one that seems insignificant can have legs,” she says.

In her more than three decades in communications, she’s seen how uncontrollable factors often influence the amount of publicity a study or a success will have in the media. Those can include a heavy news cycle, whether a reporter or editor has interest in a particular species, or whether viewers think the species is cute and cuddly.

“The best a PR department can do is put together a compelling pitch, be smart and target reporters who may have covered something similar in the past, [and] try an ‘exclusive,’ which you can then promote on social media to get further pickup,” she says.

Success Stories Have Power

In the void of good news, the doom and gloom stories often earn more attention, so the conservation community should promote even small victories.

“There are so many successes out there,” Danoff-Burg says. “We just don’t tell those stories very well.” We often fail to advertise minor wins in a conservation success story, such as efforts to mitigate threats like roads or poaching.

Some in the media understand that dynamic, which has led organizations like the Solutions Journalism Network to advocate for stories with a positive message that can show readers why, and how, people responded to a particular problem.

Sure, sometimes even good-news stories fail to make a splash. But even if a conservation story doesn’t grab the public’s attention the first time there’s a breakthrough, a species’ comeback could become an even more compelling narrative over time.

Take the black-footed ferret, for example. The species was thought to be extinct by the early 1980s, until a rancher’s dog found one in the wild a few years later. Biologists named the ferret Willa and collected her genetic material. Decades later they created her genetic clone in 2021 to help the species recover. The news of the genetic advance made national headlines in places like Science, National Geographic, and Smithsonian Magazine. Biologists just recently used that same genetic material to create two more younger sisters, also clones, generating yet more headlines.

 

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The organizations that contributed to the Mojave Desert tortoise success could have more news to promote in the future, too, as they continue their research, like what makes a tortoise clutch successful, whether specific females are likely to produce young that succeed in cold weather, and whether individual differences in behavior change how they respond to predators. That could all make conservation efforts more effective on a faster timeframe, Danoff-Burg says.

As researchers and biologists increase their knowledge of how to best protect and support lots of other threatened and endangered species — and the habitats they rely on — conservationists will have more tales to tell of their successes. That could benefit both humans and animals alike.

After all, everyone loves a good story.

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Previously in The Revelator:

Breeding the ‘Snot Otter’

Meet the Malaysian Conservationist Devoting Her Life to Protecting Fireflies

For Wan Faridah Akmal Jusoh, the night skies hold a sense of natural wonder and offer opportunities for citizen science.

When I was a child, my mother instructed me to stop playing outside and come home at the sight of the first twilight firefly. For many years I believed what most children believe: that when darkness falls, the day’s fun is over. It wasn’t until my stint as a Student Conservation Association intern at Arches National Park, many moons ago, that I began to explore the night sky and all the secrets it holds.

Dr. Wan Faridah Akmal Jusoh had a similar experience. As the Malaysian conservation scientist recounted in a talk at TED Women in Atlanta, Georgia, last fall, she and her siblings grew up in a “superstitious, conservative community” and were always told to return home at sunset. “This particular rule made the night seem mysterious to me,” she recounted at the conference, where we first met. “I spent my school years admiring the dark, but never got around to really exploring it.”

When she was a young scientist, that began to change. On a late-night boat ride through a mangrove estuary one evening, she found herself surrounded by thousands of fireflies, all blinking in unison. As she said in her TED talk, “That is the moment I will never forget — the moment I officially fell in love with kelip-kelip,” the local name for fireflies.

Now a senior lecturer in biodiversity and conservation at Monash University in Malaysia, Jusoh has dedicated her career to firefly research and conservation. Among her accomplishments, she recently coauthored a paper outlining firefly threats and conservation strategies around the world.

Another area of Jusoh’s research focuses on the genus Pteroptyx, also known as congregating fireflies. Like the insects she saw that fateful night, Pteroptyx gather in large swarms in trees and shrubs along tidal rivers in mangrove swamps and flash their lights in nearly perfect synchronicity. Because of these displays, the IUCN refers to them as “icon species.”

But even these icons are in trouble. Last month, just a few days before World Firefly Day on July 6, the IUCN Firefly Specialist Group announced that four congregating species — the Comtesse’s firefly (Pteroptyx bearni), synchronous bent-wing firefly (P. malaccae), perfect synchronous flashing firefly (P. tener), and nonsynchronous bent-winged firefly (P. valida) — have been assessed as vulnerable to extinction, one step above endangered. (The extinction risk of the majority of firefly species has yet to be assessed, something the Specialist Group is working to address.)

On the day of the IUCN Red List announcement, Jusoh and I reconnected over video to discuss her work.

Wan Faridah Akmal Jusoh speaks at TEDWomen 2023. Photo: Erin Lubin / TED

 

There are more than 2,200 known species of firefly. They’re found on every continent except for Antarctica. And each type serves as an indicator of its habitat. Why is this important?

Fireflies are so important. I think the first thing that we talk about is balancing the ecosystem. There are also other insects that play a role like that, but if you look at fireflies, their life stage has [a] different role.

When we talk about firefly larvae, we are also talking about maintaining good habitat for their prey. So, for example, we’re talking about firefly larvae eating snails. The snails require good water quality. When you don’t have good water quality, the snail population will decrease and the fireflies’ population will also decrease.

But I also like to talk about specific fireflies — for example, the aquatic firefly. We don’t have many, at least not all over the world, but there are aquatic fireflies [who] can swim. They require high quality water to actually live in the water.

It’s not just about fireflies alone. When you remove the firefly from the ecosystem, you are disturbing the other parts of the food chain.

For those of us who are not scientists and have not devoted our lives to fireflies, what can we do to help foster healthy habitats so that the widest range of species of fireflies can thrive?

This might be funny, but as a collective group of firefly researchers we all say that the first, very simple thing that you can do is turn off the lights when you don’t use them.

That’s the easiest thing that we can do as citizens because fireflies are talking to each other using signals. And when you have the light too bright, you will see decreased number of fireflies because you disrupt their communication.

And number two, if we cannot contribute scientifically, we can always go for a citizen science program. There are national recording systems, or something like iNaturalist. People [like me] actually get the data. Sometimes [users] will ask, “hey, what is this species?” Then experts try to identify it. And that’s very, very helpful. We can see that [and say] “oh, I have never seen this firefly, maybe next time I should visit this place.”

I think awareness, education, is very important. And in terms of contribution, nowadays almost every country has a citizen science program.

Maybe we think that it’s quite slow. Maybe we don’t see the return on investment in this kind of work. But in the long term it creates guardians, the people who one day, when they know there are fireflies here, will become the eyes and ears for scientists to help protect them.

A mangrove forest in Thailand at twilight
A mangrove forest in Thailand at twilight. Photo credit: Banthoon Pankaew.

 

You’ve spoken of the moment that you first saw the kelip-kelip dancing, and how it was a moment of wonder and excitement. And that moment has led to your entire life’s work. What would you say to people who have maybe not experienced that wonder? Where would they start to find wonder in nature?

I think it’s really hard to answer this. I think it really depends on how much you’re willing to be open to curiosity, open to new experiences. If you’re into nature, or if you have a high curiosity, you’re probably easily attracted to that kind of mystery. The message can be really powerful. But I think fireflies have a strength here that even by looking at them, you always have that magical moment.

In your talk you spoke of how coming home at twilight meant the night was mysterious to you. And that’s something shared by children around the world. How would you recommend we foster wonder of the dark in children?

People talk about the safety issue, of children being out at night, and that makes sense. But then when you grow up — and it was always instilled since you were young that you cannot go out — it feels dangerous. For you to get out and explore, there’s always many layers of doubt. But there are always ways to do it.

Nowadays we have a lot of opportunities to go explore an area that has already been established — for example, an ecotourism area. If we are not sure yet — and especially if we have that fear about about night — you can go with your family, ask your friends to come. The more the merrier.

Watch Dr. Jusoh’s TED Women talk below:

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