Why Words Matter in the Fight Against Climate Change

Speak up, identify the stakes, and use language that inspires action and combats right-wing messaging, says climate communications expert Genevieve Guenther.

Do we generate energy from windmills or wind turbines? Your answer could say a lot about your views on climate change, explains Genevieve Guenther.

Guenther used to be an English professor and literary critic, specializing in the Renaissance. But a growing concern about the climate crisis caused her to switch gears — and her research — to climate communication.the ask

Now she studies right-wing messaging on climate change — like pundits’ use of windmills to imply that wind energy is an outdated technology. She also founded End Climate Silence, an organization focused on strengthening climate change reporting and ending fossil fuel advertising in the media.

She spoke to The Revelator about what inspired her career shift, how climate change reporting has evolved, and her recommendations for how to encourage climate action.

How did you go from being an English professor to a climate activist?

I got super concerned about the climate crisis after I became a mom. My son was born in 2010, which means his life is going to play out over the 21st century. So many of these catastrophic impacts from global heating that are projected to come down the pike, if we don’t stop using fossil fuels, are really going to hit him and his generation.

Author and climate activist Genevieve Guenther. Photo: Courtesy of Genevieve Guenther

I started getting concerned about it — and I started to be concerned in particular with climate communication — because my background is in literary analysis research into how language has political effects, how it creates political dispositions.

I started to read the psychology and the sociology of climate communication. I took online courses in climate science through the edX platform. I did Al Gore’s Climate Reality Project.

I wasn’t quite sure what my role in this fight was going to be, but then in 2017 The New York Times hired columnist Bret Stephens, who at the time was on record as being a climate denier. I was so shocked that the paper of record thought that climate denial was legitimate political commentary that I actually started a petition on Change.org trying to get them to rescind his offer.

Lots of other people were really upset about this, too. The petition quickly got up to 20,000 signatures and I started using Twitter to promote it and in the process I got connected to climate scientists who also had written an open letter to the Times protesting Stephen’s hiring and then other activists and then climate journalists.

How did all of this lead to the organization you started — End Climate Silence?

When Stephens went on to publish his first column, I had this insight about why the uncertainty messaging of the right wing had been so effective, which was something that I felt like I was able to see because of my background in literary analysis. And so I came up with an idea for a book project, which I’m now writing, called the Language of Climate Politics. I realized that part of the reason that right-wing climate denial gets purchase in American culture is not just because the media is polarized, but also because the supposedly legitimate news media isn’t really talking about the climate crisis at all.

They’ll frequently run stories that are clearly climate stories about extreme weather or about energy or geopolitics or even immigration. And they’ll even describe how the climate crisis is affecting what it is they’re reporting on, but they’ll never actually mention the words climate change. And so to me, it felt like part of the problem with raising political will is that people don’t realize that climate change is happening already in the United States — and accelerating.

That’s because the news media isn’t reporting on the climate crisis accurately and with urgency. So I founded this little volunteer organization called End Climate Silence, which is dedicated to not only pushing journalists to cover the climate crisis more frequently, but also to change the paradigm for climate coverage so that it’s not seen as a kind of science or environment story — or even just an energy story — but it’s the context for almost every story that’s being told at this point in human history.

Since you started End Climate Silence in 2018 have you seen a change in the way the media covers climate change?

Yes. We backed off a bit from trying to reach out to journalists directly in part because I feel like the print news media has really changed the way it’s covered the climate crisis.

Since then The Washington Post and The New York Times have both created really world-class climate desks where some amazing reporting is getting done. Many other mainstream newspapers and magazines also have strong climate reporters now.

They’re also tending to talk about the climate crisis in stories that don’t seem to be [directly] about the climate crisis. So in The New York Times, for example, there was a news item about a baby who was born extremely prematurely. He was a twin and his sister died within 24 hours. And by way of telling his story, they also pointed out that the climate crisis is making prematurity worse — especially in the South — and gave the reasons why. That’s exactly the kind of contextualizing coverage that we were hoping to see more of.

The print media has also started to note that fossil fuels are the primary cause of the climate crisis, which is also something new. They used to use the euphemism human activities.

I’m really happy to see that shift as well, but the broadcast news media — the network primetime news and cable news — are still basically performing climate denial on the airways every night.

[For awhile] we had changed our focus to the broadcast news media but had no success whatsoever. Part of it, I think, is because television executives don’t want to alienate their fossil fuel advertisers. There’s a lot of fossil fuel advertising on television.

Then of course there’s Fox News, which talks about the climate crisis actually quite a lot, but only to deny its existence or attribute it to left identity politics and the destruction of the United States.

All of those polarizing effects get amplified by social media where Twitter and Facebook and Instagram just put content in front of you that they know that you’re going to like. So you never see opinions that you would disagree with.

This kind of polarization, which we think is what’s keeping our climate politics stuck, is actually not the problem. The problem is that the center — like The New York Times — is actually still allied with the fossil fuel industry. And that means they’re allied with the right where the climate crisis is concerned. Our politics are stuck because the fossil fuel economy is still the norm and nobody has done anything really yet to change that.

That’s why our latest project is an attempt to get The New York Times to stop making advertisements for the fossil fuel industry. We started with the Times because we’re hopeful that it would actually move on this, but also because it’s deeply embedded in creating fossil fuel propaganda for the oil and gas industry through its T Brand Studio. In our view, the better the journalism, the more credibility it gives to fossil fuel advertising.

How have you seen fossil fuel proponents use language to upend climate action?

Words have two different levels. They have the denotation level, which is what they mean in the dictionary sense. Like if you say a windmill is a machine that uses wind to generate motion or something like. But then there’s what the word windmill implies.

If you say windmill, I imagine an 18th century Dutch painting or something. That’s why right-wing commentators have started calling wind turbines windmills, right? Because they want you to feel like these extremely tall and sweet and even futuristic pieces of technology are these antiquated, homespun, rinky-dink little things that you might see in a Dutch painting. So that’s what they’re doing now — they use words that imply a belief that they want the public to hold.

And then there’s the greenwashing, which is done by pretending that the oil and gas companies are actually researching and implementing climate solutions, most of which are false solutions.

Simultaneously [fossil fuel] trade groups are going behind the scenes to lobby against climate policy in Congress and buy billions of dollars of advertising on social media to reduce support, or even generate opposition, to the climate policies that they’re lobbying against on the Hill.

What advice do you have for climate communicators?

Very often climate communicators will talk about the climate crisis and its solutions in terms that they know that Americans already like. Climate change is a threat to the economy, the solutions are a job creator, everybody likes clean air and water.

So they talk about decarbonization as something that’s going to bring clean air and water or other economic benefits. To my mind, that’s a mistake because it’s apolitical.

We shouldn’t be trying to bring on board the people who’re not already on board. Instead we should be trying to activate the vast majority of people who’re already concerned or even alarmed about the climate crisis but haven’t yet started exerting political pressure on their workplaces or on their government.

I think that communication should try to inspire the already-concerned into action.

And I think that you do that by telling the climate story as a kind of epic story of good and evil, where a band of people — who we invite you to join — are doing everything they can in their scrappy way to try to overthrow an evil empire and found a new world.

The way you do that is you talk about the climate crisis and show how it’s a personal threat to you. And especially to your children. And if that creates a kind of fear in your listener, there’s really no way around that.

But you don’t want to just scare them and leave them there. You also have to activate them into a sense of agency. And for me, the way that I think people do that the best is by inspiring outrage so that you understand that this threat is due to the actions of some people who are profiting off of your victimhood.

Then you also have to talk about what people often only talk about, which are the enormous benefits of decarbonization. They won’t be benefits for everybody. Of course, the fossil fuel industry is not going to benefit. The very wealthy who spend carbon like there’s no tomorrow — who’re insuring there is no tomorrow — they’re probably not going to benefit, at least not economically, from climate policy.

But the rest of us, most people are going to come out wealthier at the end because they’re going to spend less on electricity and heating and healthcare. There’s a whole way in which we can take this as an opportunity to remake the way our economy works to really make people’s lives wealthier, healthier, and happier in all the ways that research shows people really care about.

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Cargo, With a Side of Hornets, Flies and Crabs

Global shipping is moving invasive species around the world. Can world governments agree on necessary preventative measures?

In July 2021 federal agents in New Orleans abruptly ordered the 600-foot cargo ship Pan Jasmine to leave U.S. waters. The ship, which had sailed from India, was preparing to offload goods when inspectors noticed fresh sawdust on the cargo deck and discovered non-native beetles and ants boring into wooden packaging materials. The unwelcome insects included an Asian longhorn beetle, a species that was introduced into New York 25 years ago, where it has killed thousands of trees and cost $500 million in control efforts.

The crew of beetles aboard the Pan Jasmine is not an isolated incident. That same month bee experts north of Seattle were scouring forest edges for Asian giant hornet nests. These new arrivals, famously known as “murder hornets,” first turned up in the Pacific Northwest in 2019, also likely via cargo ship. The two-inch hornets threaten crops, bee farms and wild plants by preying on native bees. Officials discovered and destroyed three nests.

And this past autumn Pennsylvania officials urged residents to be on the lookout for spotted lanternflies, handsome, broad-winged natives of Asia discovered in 2014 and now present in at least nine eastern states. Believed to have arrived with a shipment of stone from China, the lanternfly voraciously consumes plants and foliage, threatening everything from oak trees to vineyards.

These are only a few of the more charismatic invasive species that have arrived in the U.S. by cargo ship. But less visible invaders are also coming in and may include pathogens, crabs, seeds, larvae and more — some with the potential to upend ecosystems and agricultural crops.

Asian longhorn beetle
An Asian longhorn beetle. Photo: James Applebee/USFWS

“Commercial shipping is one the biggest ways invasive species are transported globally,” says Danielle Verna, an environmental monitoring expert who has researched the issue for more than a decade. Her work has taken her to busy ports in Maryland, Alaska and San Francisco Bay, which is considered one of the world’s most biologically invaded estuaries.

Verna, who primarily studies invasive species in marine waters, explains that commercial shipping enables organisms to effortlessly cross geographic boundaries at speeds that cannot occur naturally, which increases their survival rate. And as the volume of shipping increases, so do opportunities for invaders.

“The more shipping we do, and the more connections we make, the more potential we create for the spread of species,” says Verna.

Canadian researchers made the same point in 2019, when they predicted a global surge in invasive species by mid-century, caused by projected increases in overseas commerce. Added to that, climate change and the global shipping glut tied to the pandemic can also benefit new introductions.

By Land and by Sea — The Pathways for Pests

A cargo ship is a mighty thing. It can stretch a fifth of a mile and carry more than 10,000 containers, each holding thousands of items that have already moved by train or truck across great distances.

At any point during these journeys, native species can latch onto items or their packaging and wind up on the deck of a ship headed for another continent.

The ship itself can also be a host, especially for marine species. It’s a daunting array of vectors, but as Verna has learned, some paths are better traveled than others.

“You have to look at the trade partner and the traffic patterns,” she says, pointing out as an example that some Asian habitats resemble ones along the U.S. West Coast. Identifying such similarities can help predict where invasive hotspots may develop.

Cargo-sniffing dog
Dogs can be trained to sniff out invasive species. Photo: USDA

For marine species, Verna says the type of ship also matters. Research shows tankers and bulk carriers or “bulkers” — those carrying unpackaged commodities such as grains or coal — appear especially prone to species transport. Their hull shape, slower speed and duration in ports allow species to gather on a ship’s underside, in a process called biofouling. It inadvertently moves alga, crustations, invertebrates and others to new habitats, where they can affect both native species and infrastructure such as storm drains or even coastal power plants.

Tankers and bulkers also tend to carry more ballast water, which can be sucked aboard on one side of the ocean and discharged on the other. Along with biofouling, it’s a key way marine species reach new habitats. A particularly costly example is the European green crab, currently competing with native Dungeness crabs along the U.S. and Canadian west coasts.

Research by Verna and others on the effect of tankers and bulkers shows that the type of ship arriving in a port can be a better predictor of biological invasions than the simple volume of ships. It also means seemingly unrelated shifts in trade activity can invite a rise in foreign species. For instance,  the arrival of more tankers and bulkers as coal and natural gas exports increased in Chesapeake Bay and the Gulf Coast drove up ballast discharge in local estuaries.

But while tankers and bulkers may matter most for marine invaders, container ships pose unique opportunities for the plants and insects that, like the lanternfly, can quickly spread across a landscape. In this case, the commodities and their packaging pose the greatest concern. Plants and anything made of wood are especially hazardous.

Spotted lanternflies
Spotted lanternflies. Photo: Stephen Ausmus/USDA

For example, in 2017 Wisconsin officials warned that log furniture imported from China and sold locally was infested with wood-boring beetles. Officials had been alerted by consumers who found sawdust as they unpacked their new furniture. The beetles and their larvae can survive for two years inside the furniture before emerging as adults, officials warned.

Rima Lucardi, a research ecologist with the U.S. Forest Service in Georgia who has studied invasive species for 20 years, also points to the importance of wood packaging materials, which accompany most ocean-bound goods arriving in the United States. These include crates, pallets, skids and cases — the types of materials that got the Pan Jasmine kicked out of U.S. waters. Lucardi says species like the beetles found aboard that ship commonly stow away in packaging materials and can, if given the chance, disrupt ecosystems and economies in places like the Southeast’s lumber-producing forests.

Research increasingly shows both the outside and inside of containers provide the nooks and seams where parasites, snails, insects and other organisms can lurk or lay eggs. Such surfaces have likely spread the brown marmorated stink bug around the world, which now damages U.S. crops and was even recently blamed for delaying car shipments to Australia.

Lucardi’s work recently led her inside the shipping containers that deliver so many of the goods that surround us. Acting on a request by U.S. Customs and Border Protection, which along with the U.S. Department of Agriculture inspects inbound cargo, Lucardi examined the intake grilles of refrigerated containers arriving at the sprawling Garden City Terminal in Savannah, Georgia, the largest container port in the country.

Garden City Terminal
Garden City Terminal. Photo: U.S. Army Corps of Engineers

“Refrigerated shipping containers are much like any refrigerator,” says Lucardi, explaining that they need constant air exchange, which means they can suck up insects and plant propagules from anywhere along their routes.

Lucardi’s research found thousands of seeds from roughly 30 species, including wild sugarcane, a federally prohibited noxious weed that has invaded parts of Florida. While conducting the work, Lucardi also experienced the fast-paced port environment that whisks goods — and invasive species — from ports to almost infinite inland locations.

“A container can get put on a truck or train within 24 hours of arriving,” says Lucardi.

That busy port environment is another important piece of the invasive species puzzle. As just one example of a range of possible impacts, at ports across the globe artificial lighting attracts swarms of native insects on a nightly basis, any number of whom may get sucked into a container’s intake grille, fly inside a container or lay eggs on a container’s surfaces.

Lucardi says these and other vectors bring non-native species to U.S. ports every day, although less than 1% become established. But that small fraction has already transformed the landscape — and even human cultures — in regions across the country.

An Old Threat, Compounded by Climate and the Pandemic

Ships have moved species about the world for ages. Researchers believe that in the 1840s a strain of the pathogen Phytophthora infestans, which causes potato blight, followed trade routes from Mexico to Belgium, where it began damaging crops. It quickly reached Ireland, where the Irish Lumper was the spud of choice. With the Lumper offering a veritable monocrop, P. infestans decimated crops and gardens, leading to famine, death and mass emigration to the United States, where people like my own great-grandmother built new lives in cities like Boston.

But that’s hardly all. In the late 19th century, a fungus that likely arrived with Asian nursery stock began killing American chestnuts. Once known as the “perfect tree” for its quality lumber, superior tannins and abundant nuts, the chestnut was wiped out in just decades. From Maine to Georgia and west to Illinois, 4 billion trees died, forever altering the landscape. In an example of cascading co-extinctions, three species of chestnut-dependent moths also disappeared.

More recently the Asian emerald ash borer, which likely harbored away in wood packaging materials, has destroyed tens of millions of U.S. trees since just 2002. Similarly, millions of hemlock trees in the eastern United States are succumbing to the woolly hemlock adelgid, which likely arrived on Japanese ornamental plants. As the hemlock slowly disappears, the region loses its most common native conifer, a unique habitat niche, and a source of long-term carbon sequestration.

Tree damage
A tree damaged by emerald ash borers. Photo: Judy Gallagher (CC BY 2.0)

The emerald ash borer and wooly adelgid are also getting a leg up from climate change, which has warmed winters and allowed the insects to expand their North American range. Verna and Lucardi say such climate-induced expansions are expected to continue, and not just in forests. Evidence suggests warming waters are carrying European green crabs north toward Alaska.

Both scientists also acknowledge that shipping delays associated with the pandemic may further aid invasives, whether through ships spending longer times stuck in ports or containers remaining stationary for longer periods in shipyards.

Prevention, Prevention, Prevention

Over decades the United States and other countries have spun an intricate web of regulations meant to reduce the spread of species by cargo ship. The story of the Pan Jasmine shows that in at least some cases the system can work. But governing a global fleet of thousands of ships, moving among hundreds of ports, is slow and tortuous work.

Few know that better than Marcie Merksamer, an environmental biologist and ballast water expert who has studied the issue for two decades and helped shape implementation of an international ballast water-management treaty. The agreement, governed by the United Nations’ International Maritime Organization, was written in 2004 but is only now taking effect.

Merksamer says the gap between writing the rules and implementing them includes a 13-year effort to convince enough countries to sign the treaty for it to be ratified. In that time, governments, industry, intergovernmental agencies and others wrangled over an ocean of details, from the technological to the political.

“It’s very complicated,” says Merksamer. “Regulations that work for an island nation like Fiji don’t necessarily work for a larger country like Norway.”

In the end the new rules require ships to adhere to a discharge standard that, in the interim, requires them to exchange ballast water in deep seas far from coastlines. That will later change to a requirement to equip all ships with high-tech water-treatment systems proven effective at treating organisms in ballast water.

More than 80 countries have signed on — representing 90% of global shipping tonnage — and the treaty is in what the IMO terms an “experience-building phase.” Merksamer describes this as a time for industry and regulators to try the rules, test the new treatment systems, and gather feedback and data. The phase was scheduled to end in 2022, but the IMO is considering delaying that until 2024, when the treaty would become more stringent.

But that’s not all, explains Merksamer. During this same long interval, the United States, which is not party to the IMO treaty, plotted its own course toward ballast-water regulation after years of lawsuits and proposed legislative solutions by industry and conservation groups. In 2018 Congress finally responded with the Vessel Incidental Discharge Act, which amended the Clean Water Act to clarify regulatory roles. Rulemaking for that law is ongoing, but it’s expected to eventually create standards for commercial operations.

Similar tales surround other vectors. For instance, in 2011 the IMO finalized international voluntary guidelines to reduce biofouling on commercial vessels. The guidelines lack the force of the ballast-water treaty but are intended to create global consistency. Then in 2014, New Zealand introduced the world’s first mandatory national standards for biofouling. They align with the IMO guidelines but require ships entering the country to meet a “clean” standard or face on-site cleaning.

Ballast
Ballast discharge. Photo: International Maritime Organization

Regarding the topsides of ships, international rules for wood packaging materials were established by the United Nations’ Food and Agriculture Organization in 2002 and have since been amended several times. They mandate a standardized stamp showing materials have been treated with either heat or the highly toxic methyl bromide fumigant. In the United States, Custom and Border Protection agents — like the ones who booted the Pan Jasmine out of New Orleans — inspect for the stamps. And while the story of the Pan Jasmine and other 2021 seizures are encouraging, critics point out that agents only inspect a fraction of the cargo arriving each year.

Regulation of shipping containers is far less developed. The FAO promotes voluntary cleanliness guidelines, but in 2015 it paused movement toward an international standard. Concurrent North American efforts have also only focused on voluntary practices, while a coalition of industry groups recently voiced opposition to development of any international rules. However, Australia and New Zealand now tout a partnership with industry that requires inbound containers to be cleaned inside and out and sprayed with insecticides.

With research by Lucardi and others shining a light on containers as vectors, many observers are hoping for a more anchored global policy. And while the regulatory sphere is convoluted and evolving, a unanimous thread is its focus on prevention.

Prevention is the number-one way to manage invasive species, says Verna. “It presents upfront costs, but they’ll be lower than most follow-up management actions.”

The sentiment resonates as officials across the country scramble after errant hornets, beetles, flies and crabs, and as residents grieve the loss of native denizens like chestnuts and hemlocks.

Previously in The Revelator:

3,000 Shipping Containers Fell Into the Pacific Ocean Last Winter

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The Lord God Bird and Dozens of Other Species Declared Extinct in 2021

This year scientists identified birds, lizards, orchids and other species that have been lost. How many more will follow?

On Sept. 29, 2021, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service announced its intention to remove 23 long-unseen species from the protection of the Endangered Species Act — because they’ve probably gone extinct, and you can’t keep protecting what’s already gone.

Among the proposed dead: the ivory-billed woodpecker, an iconic lost species often referred to as “the Lord God bird,” supposedly based on the words of wonder people once exclaimed upon seeing the magnificent creature flying above them.

The news set off a firestorm of media coverage and social-media shares.

The similar extinction of a frog from Kenya did not. Nor did that of a lichen from Florida, a dragonfly from the South Atlantic or a fish from Maryland.

And that’s all too typical of the extinction crisis, which United Nations scientists predict could cost the planet up to a million species this century — most of which will disappear in silence, unnoticed, unremarked upon, even as the web of life that supports humans on this planet continues to unravel.

Yet the stories of these losses deserve telling. They help motivate efforts to save what still exists, allow us to reflect on our place in and on this world, and — especially in this age of pandemics — remind us that our ecological fates are all interconnected.

Here, briefly, are dozens of these stories — of the birds, reptiles, invertebrates, trees and other species declared extinct in 2021, pulling from scientific reports, the IUCN Red List, news articles and my own reporting. As with my lists of extinctions from 2019 and 2020, most of these lost species haven’t been seen in decades. Many may still be the subject of later searches, because proving an extinction is always hard, and hope remains eternal.

And of course, all these disappearances can be linked to human activities — a reminder of the effect we have around us.

The Lord God bird and 22 other American species — These birds, mussels, fish and other long-unseen species from the contiguous United States, Hawai‘i and Guam disappeared due to human activity, ranging from habitat destruction to pollution and the introduction of nonnative species. Most hadn’t been seen in decades; all were added to the endangered species list too late to save them.

    • Bachman’s warbler
    • Bridled white-eye
    • Flat pigtoe mussel
    • Green-blossom pearly mussel
    • Ivory-billed woodpecker
    • Kauai akialoa
    • Kauai nukupuu
    • Kauaʻi ʻōʻō
    • Large Kauai thrush
    • Little Mariana fruit bat
    • Maui ākepa
    • Maui nukupuʻu
    • Molokai creeper
    • Phyllostegia glabra var. lanaiensis
    • Po`ouli
    • San Marcos gambusia
    • Scioto madtom
    • Southern acornshell mussel
    • Stirrupshell mussel
    • Tubercled-blossom pearly mussel
    • Turgid-blossom pearly mussel
    • Upland combshell mussel
    • Yellow-blossom pearly mussel

Maryland darter — This 3-inch fish hasn’t been seen since 1988, despite intense searches for any evidence of its continued existence. As with the ivory-billed woodpecker, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is now preparing to declare it extinct.

Norwegian wolf — Hunters and agriculture killed off the last wolves in Norway and Sweden more than 50 years ago. They were never a separate species, but research published this past year found that the wolves in these two countries were genetically distinct from the animals in nearby Finland, which have since partially repopulated their cousins’ home territory.

Half the snakes and lizards of the Guadalupe Islands — Two papers published last year identified at least 31 species (which people had forgotten even existed) that disappeared after the 1492 colonization of the islands. Introduced species such as cats and rats, along with intense transformation of the landscape by humans, appears to be to blame.

13 Australian species — This list of 12 mammals and one reptile (the Christmas Island forest skink) contains no real surprises. The species had all been declared extinct already, but the Australian government acknowledged their loss this past year and formally added them to its list of the country’s extinctions.

Eungella gastric-brooding frog — This Australian frog may be the latest victim of the amphibian-killing chytrid fungus. A last-ditch search this past year failed to find any individual frogs, and although the species hasn’t yet been formally declared extinct, things don’t look good. On the other hand, the researchers did observe three other critically endangered species in the same habitats, and they now have a chance at protection.

Epactoides giganteus — This dung beetle was newly described in 2021, based on a specimen collected on either Réunion Island or Madagascar in the 19th century and unseen since. Wherever it came from, it’s probably no longer there.

Gongylomorphus borbonicus — Another Réunion species, in this case a skink not seen since 1839, shortly after the accidental introduction to the island of the lizard-eating Southeast Asian wolf snake. The IUCN formally declared it extinct this past year.

Java stingaree — This Indonesian ray was only observed once, back in 1862. As part of an assessment finding that more than one-third of sharks and related species are now threatened, scientists have classified it as “critically endangered (possibly extinct)” due to overfishing. It joins the previously reported “lost shark” and the Red Sea torpedo in that category.

Xerces blue butterfly — No surprise here, as the striking butterfly was last seen in the 1940s and has long been considered the first North American insect driven to extinction by human activities (in this case urban development). But new genetic analysis of remaining specimens finally concluded that the Xerces blue was a unique species, not a subpopulation of another butterfly, as some had previously thought, making that extinction even more notable.

Carolina parakeet — Again, no surprise, as this bird was declared extinct in 1939 after decades of hunting for its feathers and to protect crops. But new models suggest that the parakeet actually went extinct twice, with the western subspecies disappearing around 1914 and the eastern subspecies persisting as late as the mid-1940s. Why does that matter now? As researchers wrote, “Since the Carolina parakeet was a wide-ranging species that went extinct during a period of rapid agricultural and industrial expansion, conditions that mirror those occurring in many parts of the world where parrot diversity is highest, any progress we make in unraveling the mystery of their disappearance may be vital to modern conservation efforts.”

Four Czech orchids — A thorough assessment of the orchids found in the Czech Republic classified four species as extinct: Dactylorhiza curvifolia, Gymnadenia odoratissima, Anacamptis coriophora and Herminium monorchis (some of these still exist in other nations). Agriculture, livestock and pollution get the blame for the disappearance of these plants in the country — and the remaining orchid species there aren’t doing too well, either.

Cora timucua — This Florida lichen was identified this past year, after sitting in historical collections for decades. The fungus was last collected in 1985 and most of its known habitats have been converted from their natural states. Researchers call this species “potentially extinct” and say it could still exist in Ocala National Forest, “although recent macrolichen surveys in that area did not encounter this species.”

Du Toit’s torrent frog — Last seen on Kenya’s Mount Elgon in 1962, this evolutionarily unique frog was part of a group of species that split off from other amphibians 70 million years ago. More recently, its habitat was destroyed by logging and agriculture. Intense searches have failed to find evidence that the frog still exists, and a paper published in 2021 concluded it’s probably extinct. “It’s not just losing a species, it is losing a distinctive branch of the evolutionary tree,” said coauthor Simon Loader of the Natural History Museum, London.

Arachis rigonii — No one has seen this yellow-flowering South American legume — a relative of the peanut and nutmeg — in the wild since 1959, and they likely won’t see it again. It only grew in one location, which is now “in one of the most populated cities of Bolivia,” according to the IUCN, which declared it “extinct in the wild” in 2021.

Rodrigues blue-dotted day gecko — Native to the island nation of Mauritius — famously also home to the dodo — this once-common reptile hasn’t been seen in more than 100 years. The IUCN declared it extinct this past year, blaming its disappearance on invasive rats, and possibly on the cats brought to the island to control the rats. Deforestation also likely played a role in this extinction.

Bois Julien — Also from Mauritius, this tree isn’t technically extinct, but you can’t get much closer to gone. One wild specimen remains, fenced in on private property, “but it is not producing viable fruits,” according to the IUCN, which declared the species “extinct in the wild” last year. Several nonfruiting clones also exist, but the likelihood of propagation or rewilding seems slim.

Myoporum rimatarense — This tree from French Polynesia was only collected once, back in 1921, and extensive plant surveys have failed to find another. The IUCN declared it extinct this past year, blaming habitat destruction and logging for its loss.

Bourreria veracruzana — No one has seen this Mexican tree since 1984. The IUCN declared it extinct in 2021, blaming habitat degradation “by agro-industry farming and agro-industry-ranching.”

Tetramolopium lepidotum arbusculum — This Hawaiian plant, part of the daisy family, once grew on the island of Maui. Last seen in 1842, the IUCN assessed it as extinct this past year, blaming “severe decline in habitat due to the impacts of invasive plants and animals.”

Boesenbergia albolutea and Boesenbergia rubrolutea — Neither of these plants (ginger relatives native, respectively, to the Andaman Islands in the Indian Ocean and northeastern India) have been seen since the late 19th century. A paper published last year recommended classifying them each as “extinct in the wild,” although they remain unseen. The IUCN currently lists B. albolutea as “data deficient” but does not have a listing for B. rubrolutea.

St. Helena darter — This dragonfly, native to the South Atlantic volcanic island for which it’s named, was last seen in 1963, when a single female was collected. The species was assessed as extinct in 1986, then listed by the IUCN as “data deficient” in 2011, and then “critically endangered (possibly extinct)” in 2019. Last year it was reassessed again, removing the “possibly” from the equation — although the invasive frogs that killed it off appear to be doing just fine.

Licaria mexicana — An evergreen tree from Hidalgo and Veracruz, Mexico, last seen around 1930 and unlikely to persist “as a result of forest clearance in the area and habitat completely destroyed where it was known from,” according to the IUCN.

Gallirallus astolfoi — Scientists described this rail, a type of bird, in a paper published Dec. 20, making it the last reported extinction of 2021. This potentially flightless bird from the island of Rapa Iti in the South Pacific is known only from a single leg bone, although that was enough to declare it a “new” species — the seventh extinct rail species from French Polynesia. This one probably went extinct hundreds of years ago after humans colonized the island. Other extinctions on Rapa Iti have been blamed on predation by people and feral goats, as well as rats and cats, along with habitat destruction. Exactly how this species disappeared remains a mystery.

Previously in The Revelator:

What We’ve Lost: The Species Declared Extinct in 2020

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Can Roadless Areas Help Stem the Extinction Crisis in the United States?

A new study looked at a group of forest lands that hold big conservation potential but aren’t adequately protected.

It’s a small world for relictual slender salamanders, who live only in California. Development has slashed their suitable habitat to just two small areas in the mountains of Kern County — so keeping those last vestiges wild is critical to the amphibians’ survival.

And there’s some hope for that, because half of the salamanders’ habitat is in what’s known as “inventoried roadless areas.”

The lands, designated under the 2001 Roadless Area Conservation Rule, are generally undeveloped areas that are 5,000 acres or larger and not already classified as protected wilderness. The roadless rule — which applies to 58 million acres of national forest lands in the United States — leaves these landscapes open to uses like hunting and camping, and even oil development, but limits most road construction and commercial logging. Some areas have been degraded by livestock grazing, which is permitted by the rule, but most are relatively intact wild lands that provide enormous conservation value.

But just how much?

A new study by scientists from the Wilderness Society, published in Global Ecology and Conservation, looked at the importance of national forest roadless areas for vulnerable wildlife species — like the relictual slender salamander — and more than 500 other mammals, birds, amphibians and reptiles in the contiguous United States.

The research is time sensitive.

“One of the most pressing challenges facing the country right now is the looming extinction crisis,” says Matthew Dietz, lead ecologist at the Wilderness Society and lead author of the study.

For years scientists and conservation activists have been calling for the world’s governments to help halt the loss of biodiversity by protecting 30% of the Earth’s land and water by 2030 and 50% by 2050.

This interim goal, known as 30×30, has recently picked up steam — and last year even received an endorsement from the Biden administration.

It’s not clear yet how the United States will hit that target. So Dietz and his colleagues decided to see what role roadless areas could play.

“We wanted to know how valuable they could be in stemming the extinction crisis in the United States,” he says.

Shifting Ground

It’s possible, the research shows, that focusing on conserving inventoried roadless areas would be a low-cost strategy with big ecological gains.

That’s because the lands are “already federally owned, they’re ecologically intact, and they have minimal current conflicting uses,” says Dietz.

But there’s one big catch: Their fate is a bit tenuous. Any administration can create exemptions or change the regulations with public process, and states can also petition to change the roadless rules, as both Alaska and Utah have both done in recent years.

The Trump administration stripped roadless protections away from 9 million acres of Alaska’s Tongass National Forest — a move that President Biden has sought to undo.

Conservation Value

But as Dietz’s study found, efforts to give stronger protections to roadless areas could go a long way in helping to reach conservation goals and slow extinctions.

The research found that of the 537 species identified as being of conservation concern, 57% had at least some suitable habitat in one or more of the inventoried roadless areas.

“That’s pretty surprising considering that these roadless areas make up just 2% of the lower 48 states,” says Dietz. “And especially since they tend to be concentrated geographically mostly in the West, mostly biased toward mountain ranges and almost exclusively of a single biome type — forests.”

Every roadless area, they found, provides critical habitat for at least two vulnerable wildlife species and in one case — Tumacacori in Arizona — up to 62 species. For some wildlife, roadless areas made up a significant portion of their habitat. There were eight that had 20% of their total suitable habitat in inventoried roadless areas and 45 species with more than 10%. The relictual slender salamander was the highest, with 50%.

“That’s a species for which inventoried roadless areas are very important,” says Dietz.

It’s important to strengthen protections for roadless areas to maintain suitable habitat for species that rely heavily on it now, he says. But these wild lands could also be vital in the future for some animals to recolonize — like woodland caribou, for example.

In 2019 the last member of the South Selkirk herd — the only population of woodland caribou left in the lower 48 — was moved into a captive-breeding program.

However, more than one third of the animal’s total suitable habitat in the contiguous United States remains in roadless areas. So there’s habitat for the caribou — but no caribou currently. That could change.

“If there’s any hope of bringing woodland caribou back to the contiguous United States, a lot is going to depend on preserving that roadless habitat,” says Dietz.

Stronger Protections

So what’s the best way to make sure roadless areas have enduring protections?

One strategy would be an administrative action. “During national forest land management planning processes, the agency can recommend any roadless lands to be designated as wilderness by Congress,” says Dietz. And until Congress decides on whether or not to act on that, the Forest Service would manage them as de facto wilderness. This definition would forbid almost all human activity on these lands, with the exception of research and non-mechanized recreation such as hiking or horseback riding.

The second way would be for Congress itself to pass a law designating all or some roadless areas as wilderness. That, says Dietz, is the gold standard for land protection. But Congress could also codify into federal law the protections that exist under the current roadless area conservation rule.

bears at play
Kootznoowoo Wilderness, a federally-protected wildlerness area on Admiralty Island, Alaska. Photo: Forest Service/Don MacDougall (CC BY 2.0)

H.R. 279, the Roadless Area Conservation Act of 2021, would do just that, although the bill hasn’t moved forward since it was introduced a year ago and its fate seems uncertain in today’s partisan political environment.

Whatever happens, making sure protections endure for roadless areas wouldn’t get the country all the way to its 30×30 goal, nor would it be the only solution needed to halt the extinction crisis, says Dietz.

But it would be a big — and necessary — conservation step.

“As a nation, we have to ask ourselves this question,” says Dietz. “If we can’t protect these federal public lands that are some of the last of our country’s wild, ecologically intact and unroaded forests — that also provide habitat for the majority of our most vulnerable wildlife species — what can we protect?”

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6 Big Environmental Stories to Watch in 2022

From plastic pollution to extreme weather and the extinction crisis, the year ahead promises tough fights, enormous challenges and critical opportunities.

A new year brings with it new opportunities — and more of the same environmental threats from the previous 12 months.

But as we see year after year, many environmental issues tend to fly under the radar. Sure, climate change has started to get wider coverage from some newspapers and TV networks, but a lot of important stories still get missed (or dismissed by partisan outlets). Meanwhile the media devotes precious little space or airtime to stories about endangered species, environmental justice, pollution or sustainability.

Maybe that’s why these issues also get so little attention from legislators or the general public.

We can work to change that. Here are six of the biggest but most likely to be ignored environmental stories that The Revelator expects to follow in 2022.

Biden-Watch and the Specter of 2024

Following last year’s difficult election, we proclaimed 2021 the start of “the rebuilding years.”

That has proved somewhat true: Under President Biden, many of the previous administration’s antienvironmental initiatives and deregulatory efforts have fallen like dominoes.

But in other ways, Biden has not lived up to his campaign promises on environmental issues. Most notably, the administration licensed new fossil fuel drilling rights at a breakneck pace in 2021, in stark contrast to the candidate’s promises (and even some of his early symbolic actions, such as his executive order to make the U.S. government carbon-neutral by the year 2050).

President Biden
Photo: Dept. of the Interior

Although the Beltway press doesn’t dig into this as often, all eyes should be on Biden’s next environmental moves. Can he deliver on the real threats facing the planet? Or will this administration become yet another failure for climate and biodiversity?

We’re guessing it will be a combination of both, with some clearcut victories in need of amplification and a few partial or flat-out failures.

The real proof in the political pudding will come this November, when the 2022 midterm election could create long-term challenges for the planet. The increasingly authoritarian Republican party is doing everything it can to game both the 2022 and 2024 elections in its favor: voter suppression, redistricting, removing bipartisan election officials, and even passing legislation to allow it to throw out election results the GOP doesn’t like, all while perpetuating the damaging Big Lie of election fraud to discredit the entire process.

The media, other legislators, activists and voters need to make sure this stays a key component of the stories we tell in the year(s) ahead. Because if Trump or someone like him ascends again to the presidency in 2024, or if the Republicans take over the House in 2022, then it’s one step closer to lights out for the planet.

Biodiversity in Crisis

This past year saw several big-picture studies identifying the extinction risk of large groups of species, and the news wasn’t good. One third of shark species, the studies found, are threatened, as are 30% of trees, half of all turtles, 16% of dragonflies and damselflies, 30% of European birds and 16% of Australian birds.

And then, of course, there were the extinctions.

ivory-billed woodpecker
Photo: Tristan Loper (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Tragically, we don’t expect any of this to slow down in 2022. We’ve already heard from sources about potential extinction declarations that could come in the months ahead, mostly for species that haven’t been seen in several decades.

As usual, few of these get widely covered in the media. We’ll do our best to bring you this news, as well as conservation success stories that tend to get overlooked in our “if it bleeds, it leads” media environment.

The pandemic will also continue to affect the conservation movement, and we need to keep these issues in the public eye. The past two years have seen a lot less on-the-ground research around the world, although some scientists have started to break through the need to stay at home and gotten out into the field.

Will the same thing happen with important international discussions? More than 190 nations are currently scheduled to meet in April to discuss global agreements to protect nature and biodiversity. The arrival of the omicron variant — one more reminder that vaccines still haven’t been equitably distributed around the world — has now put that meeting, and perhaps others like it, in jeopardy.

But life finds a way. Even if we can’t do work in nature or in person, there’s always Zoom. The work that concluded sharks’ extinction risk wouldn’t have been possible without today’s online communication tools. These types of events don’t generate as much media attention, but they will generate stories worth telling if we’re open to listening.

A Plastic Mess

Will this be the year the United States finally hears the message about the dangers of plastic pollution?

Let’s hope so, because a new report from the National Academy of Sciences, published in December, revealed that the United States is a top contributor to the problem. According to the report, U.S. residents generated more plastic waste in 2016 than any other country — a staggering 42 million metric tons. That’s more than all the European Union and twice that of China.

Marine litter
Plastic washes ashore with other marine litter. (Photo by Bo Eide, public domain)

The report, which was mandated by Congress, recommends the United States develop a comprehensive policy to reduce plastic waste in the environment. Of course legislators could get a jump on that if Congress passed the Break Free From Plastic Act introduced last March.

And there’s another strategy, too — turning off the tap on plastic production by halting the extraction of fossil fuels that provide plastic feedstocks and stopping the build out of massive new petrochemical facilities. The Army Corps of Engineers is in the midst of an environmental review of one such project now — a $9 billion project by Formosa Plastics in St. James Parish, Louisiana. That could set the stage for a lot of future progress.

No matter what happens, the focus needs to remain on this issue, which not only poisons communities but exacerbates the climate crisis. It’s time for leadership, not just in this country, but around the world.

Expect Extremes

There should be nothing surprising anymore about the fact that we’re in for a wild weather ride every year now, as climate change turns up the heat and supercharges many storms and wildfires.

From 1980-2020 the United States had on average about seven weather and climate events that topped $1 billion each. But from 2016-2020 that average has shot up to 16.

Researchers are increasingly able to show the fingerprints of climate change on specific weather events. A Climate Brief investigation into the field of “extreme event attribution,” pioneered by scientists at World Weather Attribution, showed that climate change made 70% of 405 extreme weather events either more likely or more severe. The media needs to make this connection more often.

So, we know it’s coming. Now what will we do about it? Expect to see more stories about climate change resilience and how states will spend the $50 billion earmarked to protect against droughts, heat and floods in the new infrastructure bill. And hopefully we’ll see ample coverage of how this money gets to the communities that need it the most.

Doing Renewables Right

We’re off and running — or at least jogging — on the race to decarbonize. Initial projections show that in 2022 the United States could see a record amount of new wind energy (27 gigawatts) coming online, as well as twice as much utility-scale solar (44 gigawatts) compared to last year, and six times as much energy storage (8 gigawatts).

Meanwhile 28% of U.S. coal plants are projected to close by 2035.

Going solar
New solar panels. Photo: Glacier National Park/National Park Service

But don’t hold on too tightly to those projections for renewables. Rising costs and supply-chain problems could slow or halt some planned projects. On the other hand, renewables could get a big boost if Congress manages to passes the Build Back Better bill.

Ramping renewables will come with a few other challenges, too, that we should keep our eyes on: Can raw materials like lithium and cobalt be sourced without endangering human rights or terrestrial and marine ecosystems? Can projects be sited and managed in ways that don’t exacerbate biodiversity concerns? Can we ensure that poor communities and communities of color that have borne the brunt of the fossil fuel economy be the first beneficiaries in the energy transition and leaders in the process? These are the types of tough questions everyone should start asking as we make this vitally important transition.

Getting Direct

Even amidst the pandemic, dedicated environmental activists refused to let their voices be silenced.

We’ve seen a dramatic rise in direct action over the past few months, with climate protestors temporarily disrupting Australia’s largest coal port by scaling and then suspending themselves from massive machinery, going on a very public 14-day hunger strike, defending a sacred waterway in British Columbia, protesting for voting rights and a whole lot more.

And they’re just warming up. The Extinction Rebellion climate protest group has promised a return to direct action now that vaccination rates have increased — indeed, they’ve been quite active the past few weeks.

Extinction Rebellion
Extinction Rebellion activists blockade the exit to the Exxon-Mobil fuel terminal in Yarraville, Melbourne in Dec. 2021. Photo: Matt Mhkac (CC BY 2.0)

The protests and disruptions reflect societal anger at corporate and government resistance to reform. They present the world with dramatic images and powerful messages, many of which get otherwise ignored by the media and legislatures. These events might not achieve much individually, but collectively, given time, they work.

That’s also why such activism is so risky. Last month Chilean activist Javiera Rojas was murdered, the latest in an ever-increasing string of deaths and other violent attacks committed against environmental defenders around the world.

These are the stories we all need to watch — and the messages we should never forget.

Previously in The Revelator:

23 Gone, Countless More to Save

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The Species That Defined Our Year

2021 brought coverage of a wide range of amazing wildlife, along with the threats they face and the solutions to saving them.

From cats with spots to sharks with short fins, The Revelator covered some amazing animals in 2021 — including a few that are no longer with us and many more that people are determined to save.

Here you’ll find 12 of the species that struck us as we looked back at the year that was. They represent Earth’s incredible diversity, the harm the Anthropocene has done them, and the protective measures that could help them — and potentially us — to survive.

January: Monarch Butterfly

monarch butterfly
Lance Cheung/USDA (public domain)

One of North America’s most iconic species has had a few rough years, but we continue to learn more about how to (we hope) save them.

February: Townsend’s Warbler

Townsend's warbler
Townsend’s warbler. Photo: Becky Matsubara (CC BY 2.0)

This beautiful bird represents the need to revisit the way we identify species and places as one element of healing the scars of colonialism.

March: Straw-Headed Bulbul

Straw-headed bulbul
Photos: Michael MK Khor (CC BY 2.0)

Sometimes humans take something they consider beautiful and … well … ruin it.

April: Horseshoe Crab

Horseshoe crabs
Horseshoe crabs in Mispillion Harbor, Delaware, in 2006. Photo: Gregory Breese/USFWS

The surprising impacts a pandemic can have on wild species.

May: Gibraltar Funnel-Web Spider

Macrothele calpeiana
Macrothele calpeiana. Photo: Gail Hampshire (CC BY 2.0)

Just one of the many arachnids conservation efforts all too often overlook.

June: Buffy-Headed Marmoset

Buffy-headed marmoset
Photo: Peter Schoen (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Quite possibly the cutest critter we profiled this past year, and one — like so many others — facing threats on multiple fronts.

July: Panamanian Golden Frog

frog research extinction
Panamanian golden frog by Brian Gratwicke (CC BY 2.0)

This amphibian probably no longer exists in the wild, but its effect on human culture remains.

August: Marbled Murrelet

marbled murrelet in the water
Marbled murrelets forage at sea. Photo: Kim Nelson, Oregon State University, (CC BY-SA 2.0)

The “bird of two worlds” may benefit from research on land and at sea and represents the complex challenges of conservation.

September: Sunda Clouded Leopard

Sunda clouded leopard
Photo: Christian Sperka. Courtesy Panthera

A small cat with a big personality, a few major threats and several growing conservation programs.

October: Flat Pigtoe Mussel

One of 23 species that may soon lose their protection under the Endangered Species Act — because they’ve probably gone extinct. Their disappearance serves as a reminder of the extinction crisis taking out freshwater mussels, birds and other species around the world, as well as a clarion call to protect what remains.

November: Jaguar

Jaguar Arizona
Male jaguar in the Santa Rita Mountains. Photo courtesy of University of Arizona/USFWS

Life persists: This is one of three large carnivores, along with wolves and mountain lions, slowly returning to their native habitats in the United States, decades after their near eradication.

December: Shortfin Mako Shark

Shortfin mako
Shortfin mako shark. Photo: NOAA (uncredited)

One of the world’s most rapidly declining shark species — which won an important (if temporary) conservation victory in the last weeks of the year.

The Revelator’s Top 12 Environmental Commentaries of 2021

Our experts weighed in on hot topics ranging from plastic pollution to the extinction crisis.

This was a year a lot of stuff got done — and a lot of former President Donald Trump’s environmental rollbacks got undone. Congress also pushed forward a big bill on infrastructure, with benefits for wildlife.

The extinction crisis and efforts to protect biodiversity came into sharper focus — although we had to mourn the loss of 23 species. And while we should have been taking big leaps, we did at least inch forward with climate change solutions.

Our expert contributors — and your humble editors — weighed in with their thoughts on these issues and more this year. And we also kicked off a new occasional essay series called Vanishing, which explores some of the human stakes of the wildlife extinction crisis.

As we look back at 2021, here are a dozen of our favorite essays, editorials and op-eds:

Why Plastic Pollution Is a Producer Responsibility — Time to hold manufacturers, not consumers, accountable.

Southern Africa’s Ivory Delusion — Shady economics could fuel a poaching epidemic.

Vanishing: The Bleaching in My Backyard — What does a Texas ice storm have to do with the plight of coral reefs?

23 Gone, Countless More to Save — What can we learn from these losses?

Infrastructure for Insects: Congress Should Invest in Bees and Butterflies — New legislation makes roadsides friendlier for pollinators.

Achieving Net-Zero Climate Targets Will Depend on Public Lands — Nearly a quarter of the nation’s greenhouse gases can be traced directly to public lands.

The Fight Against Extinction Requires Biocultural Restoration — Biological diversity and culture are linked.

End Subsidies That Drive Overfishing and Threaten Ocean Health — This has implications for the climate, too.

Voter Suppression Is the New Climate Denial — Local elections, disinformation and voter disenfranchisement all have environmental consequences.

Beyond Science: Art and the Environment — Our wild places need artists.

Vanishing: Sawfishes Are Weird and Wonderful — But Important, Too — Especially for some of the most vulnerable communities in the world.

As the Climate Changes, Where Are the Safest Places to Live? — Answering that question leads to even more questions about safety, risk and equity.

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What’s Working: The Revelator’s 12 Favorite Solutions Stories of 2021

From wetlands restoration to conservation dogs and the decline of fossil fuels, these tales set the stage for the year ahead.

Writing about the environment these days can be tough. There’s more bad news than good. Climate-fueled disasters, new extinctions, science denial — we’ve covered some topics this year that will make your heart sink.

But there’s a lot of encouraging news, too. As we look back at 2021, we want to revisit the stories that gave us hope, introduced new solutions, and highlighted the people hard at work on some of the most challenging issues of our day.

Here are a dozen stories to fuel your fire for the year ahead:

A Nose for Science: Conservation Dogs May Help in Search for Endangered Franklin’s Bumblebee — Rescue dogs become sleuths for conservation.

How Wildlife Rescuers Can Protect Public Health — What happens when you combine machine learning, computer science, epidemiology and wildlife health? Something pretty amazing.

The Divestment Movement’s Big Month — The economic war on fossil fuels is gaining strength.

Fisher Rewilding: How Washington State Is Restoring a Native Carnivore — An emerging population of fishers has been years in the making.

Stormwater Could Become an Important Water Source — If We Stopped Ignoring It — It’s not sexy, but the benefits are plenty.

New Clues to Help Monarch Conservation Efforts — Planting milkweed helps these vanishing butterflies. But there’s more to it than that.

Are We Managing Invasive Species Wrong? — Researchers made a surprising discovery in a California lagoon.

The Race to Build Solar Power in the Desert — and Protect Rare Plants and Animals — More solar with less environmental harm.

Our Last, Best Chance to Save Atlantic Salmon — It’s dam removal or bust for Atlantic salmon.

Could Property Law Help Achieve ‘Rights of Nature’ for Wild Animals? — It’s not as wild an idea as you might think.

Do Species Awareness Days Work? — Spoiler alert: They do. But there are specific ways to make them more effective.

Scientists Find New Way to Reduce Marine ‘Dead Zones’ — How much benefit we get from wetlands really depends on where restoration efforts take place.

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9 Don’t-Miss Environmental Interviews of 2021

Conservationists, activists, scientists and other experts offered their insight into the year’s most pressing issues.

One of the best parts of our jobs is talking to some of the smartest and most inspiring people working on environmental issues. Some of them share their expertise as sources for our reporting, but a few dozen allow us to take a deep dive into their work in our Q&A feature The Ask.

This year we learned a ton from these folks, which include frontline activists, scientists, policy wonks and writers. Here are a few of our favorite conversations, along with some quotes that still resonate with us.

Sounds of Silence: Extinction Is Erasing the Earth’s Music

“I started thinking about how I could open people’s hearts without breaking them. How I could point to the onrushing extinctions and not force people to turn away in absolute grief. I decided that I was going to have to write in a way that was like a wave — I would lift people and smash them at the same time.” —Kathleen Dean Moore

‘There’s No Memory of the Joy.’ Why 40 Years of Superfund Work Hasn’t Saved Tar Creek

“When EPA first came in, we were all excited: ‘We’re going to get this fixed.’ We all believed that they would do something, they would do it quickly, it would be resolved and we’d have fish in that creek again. And people could play in it again. But then they walked away and they did nothing and have still done nothing for that creek. Now you have 40 years of children not being able to play in it. Pretty soon there’s no memory of the joy. It’s forgotten.” —Rebecca Jim

Justice First: How to Make the Clean Energy Transition Equitable

“I want people to get curious and begin to organize around a just energy future. And to also maybe even get a little upset about the deep injustice that is embedded into not just the fossil fuel system — because that’s a story we know — but into this clean energy transition, where we are not only replicating but in some ways exacerbating inequality.” —Shalanda Baker

Move or Change: How Plants and Animals Are Trying to Survive a Warming World

“What the study of climate change biology allows us to do is not to cease worrying, but rather to worry smart. It puts us in a much stronger position in terms of how we allocate scarce resources to these problems. If you understand the species and the systems that are most vulnerable, if you understand the ones that have some natural resilience, you’re in a much better position to manage the crisis.” —Thor Hanson

Line 3: Stopping the Next Big Climate Threat Crossing the U.S.-Canada Border

“I try to push folks to think about direct action not just as being about getting arrested or something like that. To me, it’s about standing with the Earth in a real way, putting something at risk and being uncomfortable. I don’t think that we’re going to solve the climate crisis comfortably. I don’t think we’re going to solar panel or policy-make our way out of this massive existential threat we’re facing.” —Tara Houska

The Extinction Crisis in Watercolor and Oils: Using Art to Save Plants

“I’m very passionate about the importance of plants. I think they’re sometimes neglected, particularly when it comes to messages about conservation and the importance of biodiversity. People are excited by animals. They’re engaged and intrigued by animals, and often not so much with plants. You talk to people and that know, plants are beautiful or they’re great in my garden. But they see them as a backdrop for animals to exist against.” —Chris Thorogood

Injustice Forever? Toxic PFAS Chemicals Have ‘Made a Mockery of Our Environmental Regulations’

“The petrochemical manufacturers knew the risks of these chemicals almost from the moment they started manufacturing them in the 1960s. Again and again, they buried that evidence. The ways that PFAS has made a mockery of our environmental regulations can’t be the end of our ability to prosecute these injustices.” —David Bond

How an Indigenous Scientist Studies Global Change

“For me, I do feel finally that there’s space for my Native American identity and my Western science career to co-exist in the work that I do. Now it’s non-negotiable. Coming up in academia I didn’t see anyone like me, and I want to help with that.” —Danielle Ignace

The Fight Against Plastic: ‘If You’re Not at the Table, You’re on the Menu’

“I think with all of the racial justice uprisings with George Floyd, with Black Lives Matter, with youth activists, there’s a moment right now where we need to pivot on plastics — and environmental issues in general — and really give the social justice piece the justice it deserves.” —Shilpi Chhotray

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Injustice Forever? Toxic PFAS Chemicals Have ‘Made a Mockery of Our Environmental Regulations’

With a lack of regulations addressing toxic “forever chemicals,” students and professors at a Vermont college have taken their research skills into communities to spur action.

Wherever you look for PFAS, you’ll find them.

“They’re on Mount Everest; they’re in the Mariana Trench; they’re in polar bears; they’re in penguins; and they’re in just about every human population on Earth,” says David Bond, a cultural anthropologist and professor at Bennington College, who’s been investigating the “forever chemicals.”the ask

PFAS (perfluoroalkyl and polyfluoroalkyl substances), a family of chemicals that includes PFOA and PFOS, are widely used in the manufacture of plastic products like non-stick pans, food packaging and waterproof clothing, and are also a component of firefighting foam.

Their non-sticky, nonreactive properties made them appealing to plastics manufacturers. But they’ve proved a nightmare for environmental health because they don’t break down quickly, if at all. They also travel long distances and bioaccumulate in plants, animals and people. Traces of the chemicals — many known to be harmful — are now found all over the world.

Seven years ago water tests revealed PFAS in Hoosick Falls, New York, just down the road from Bennington College. Bond, along with a small team of other professors at Bennington, began engaging students and community members in an effort to understand the extent of local PFAS contamination — which he later learned even included his own backyard.

They’ve since extended their work to other areas — helping to generate research that’s given communities a weapon to fight back against polluters and push for stronger regulations.

The Revelator spoke with Bond, who also serves as the associate director of the Elizabeth Coleman Center for the Advancement of Public Action, about the dangers of PFAS, why regulators have been slow to act and the power of a real-world education in environmental justice.

You’ve studied the effects of fossil fuels on communities for years. How did you get involved with PFAS?

PFAS came to us. In Hoosick Falls, New York, which is about seven miles from us at Bennington College, a resident discovered high levels of PFOA in drinking water in 2014. The state was unsure of what to do and actually put out a sheet for residents that said that PFOA was detected in the water over the level that the EPA had issued a health concern for, but residents could continue drinking the water and there was nothing to worry about.

So this caused a lot of alarm and residents reached out to me and asked if I would help them understand what was happening. I quickly enlisted a chemistry professor and a geology professor to join me.

We realized that one of the things that we do — teach — could be put in the service of this sort of unfolding toxic event. So we put together a classroom that was free for the community — anybody could come and take that class to learn about the contaminants, the health concerns, and what sort of things were available to help protect themselves.

What was the response from the community? And what did you learn together?

We had about half students and half community members in most of the classes. In 2015 [when we started] it was really just an emerging issue and there wasn’t a lot of reliable information. There were three plastics plants in town that were suspected and found to be the sources of the contamination. The state set up a perimeter around [them] and wasn’t willing to test beyond that perimeter.

But in our class people would say things like, “I live outside town, but every night for a few years, a truck would come up my road with a bunch of barrels and it would come back down the road in the middle of the night with no barrels. I wonder if there’s a dumpsite there.”

And so we would put together a little research question and go up and take some samples from surface water and groundwater where they had identified [potential problems] and see what we found. And a handful of times we came back with really high levels that we then turned over to the state and asked them to expand the perimeter. That perimeter kept expanding.

Eventually what we identified was an area of about 200 square miles that was contaminated with PFOA — way above what you’d expect in that area — that we could trace back to the plastics factories.

It took the state a very long time to start thinking at that scale. But we were able to because we were talking to people, listening to what they said. This is what anthropology is good at — listening to people. And [because we] partnered with a chemist and a geologist, we had all the tools you need to take people seriously and really test what they were telling us.

Former EPA Regional Administrator Judith Enck and Bennington College faculty members Janet Foley and John Hultgren take PFOA community health questionnaires door-to-door in Hoosick Falls, N.Y. Photo: David Bond, Bennington College

What’s been the impact of this work?

The students have gotten really engaged with this issue. It’s not something that you study in a textbook yet. It’s an unfolding problem and it’s happening next door. We brought our neighbors into our classroom, and we got out and went into our neighbors’ houses and started working together with them. And the students have been really taken with this model of learning.

I’ve also just drawn tremendous inspiration from how the community has insisted on justice for them. I’m not just working with them, I actually live there. PFAS was found in my own garden.

With this class of chemicals there’s no going back to before — the contamination is so extensive. There’s no way to remediate 200 square miles of this contaminant. It means that people are going to be carrying a lifetime of medical worry.

We know that trace exposure to these chemicals on levels of parts per trillion — which is almost impossible to get your head around how small that is — is strongly linked to a number of developmental dysfunctions, immune issues, and a host of cancers. Folks know these chemicals are in our community. We were exposed to them for decades. That means we’re going to have a pattern of health impacts over the long haul. So they’ve been really proactive at insisting that medical monitoring be part of any settlement with the polluters.

That sets up a kind of infrastructure where all the local doctors and nurses are on the lookout for all of the health issues that are known to be associated with exposure to these chemicals. And most of these issues — if they’re caught early — they’re very treatable.

Folks have also insisted on filtration systems for everybody’s water — this stuff is probably going to be in the groundwater for millennia.

After working in Hoosick Falls, you’ve extended your work to other communities. What else have you found?

In the last few years we’ve gotten a number of requests, and each time we try to figure out what we can do to help and how we can put the scientific resources of a college to work helping the public understand the PFAS issue and equip them to be better citizens and pursue environmental justice.

The last one that we got involved in was the incineration of PFAS. As it’s becoming clear that they will likely be designated as a hazardous waste substance, those who are sitting on stockpiles of these chemicals will soon have a huge liability on their hands. So the Department of Defense and the petrochemical industry have all rushed to start trying to incinerate stockpiles of PFAS.

This is worrisome because there’s no evidence that incineration destroys these chemicals. They’re fireproof toxins and are used in firefighting foam extensively. It’s a bit of a harebrained notion that you can burn them to destroy them.

A public housing complex in Cohoes, New York got ahold of us two years ago. It’s next to an incinerator. They had gotten word that it was suspected to be incinerating a tremendous amount of what’s called AFFF [Aqueous Film Forming Foam], which is a firefighting foam that’s made mostly of PFAS chemicals.

We took some samples of soil and water around that incinerator and analyzed them. We found a fairly distinctive fingerprint that matched AFFF. And again, in the shadow of the incinerator stands the public housing complex that’s by and large poor people of color. And this incinerator was just torching away as much PFAS as they could get. There’s no evidence that incineration was breaking those toxins down and good reason to think it was just spreading them into the community.

incinerator stack behind houses
Norlite hazardous waste incinerator sits less than 400 feet from Saratoga Sites public housing in Cohoes, N.Y. Photo: David Bond, Bennington College

We were able to document that and push that out and the town passed a moratorium on burning PFAS waste at that incinerator. And then the state passed a bill that banned this incineration in [parts of] New York. We suspect that hasn’t slowed down the burning of these chemicals nationwide, so I’ve been in conversation with a few folks trying to figure out how we can push a national ban.

There has been recent news that the EPA is finally moving to act on regulating some PFAS. Do you think the actions will go far enough? 

I appreciate that the EPA is taking a step toward this crisis by announcing that they are going to begin to try to regulate PFOA and PFOS — two of the most prominent chemicals in the PFAS family. However, the step they’ve chosen to take is far too little and far too late. The EPA was made aware of the toxicity of PFOA and PFOS nearly 20 years ago.

If you follow that timeline out, it’s going to take about a century to go through all of the PFAS chemicals that are now in circulation, build up a data set on them, and begin to issue regulations for them.

And now that we’re discovering these chemicals in our drinking water, our farms and our bodies, [regulators are] almost throwing their hands up at the sheer ubiquity of the problem and saying, “What can we possibly do at this point, they’re everywhere”? It’s almost as if PFAS are becoming too toxic to fail.

The petrochemical manufacturers knew the risks of these chemicals almost from the moment they started manufacturing them in the 1960s. Again and again, they buried that evidence. The ways that PFAS has made a mockery of our environmental regulations can’t be the end of our ability to prosecute these injustices. This needs to be the starting point of fixing everything that went wrong, not a point of resignation.

Previously in The Revelator:

Are Forever Chemicals Harming Ocean Life?

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