Yellowstone to Yukon: Can a Model for Interconnection Save the Wild?

An ambitious initiative aims to protect a 2,000-mile segment of the Continental Divide ecoregion and change how we think of conservation.

Adapted from Four-Fifths a Grizzly: A New Perspective on Nature That Just Might Save Us All © 2021 by Douglas Chadwick. Reprinted with permission by Patagonia.

Around the same time biologists realized that our definitions of nature had been too limited, ecologists began to see that the century-and-a-half-old practice of setting aside reserves here and there to safeguard nature was coming up short. It proved especially mismatched to the needs of big, mobile animals. Elephants, for example, and jaguars, wild camels, wolves, gazelles, bears, lions … name one of the sizeable fellow mammals we find especially compelling and most want to save.

When societies started establishing parks and preserves, much of the countryside around them remained more or less intact and able to provide important habitats at certain times of year and serve as travel routes to other vital habitats. That is no longer the case. Settlement and development have been fragmenting those landscapes, cutting reserves off from neighboring terrain and from each other. Many of the protected natural areas are turning into islands lapped by an ocean of humanity.

In 21st-century settings, animals traveling beyond refuges often struggle to find habitats with adequate food and security in adjoining terrain. Their chances for survival and reproduction there drop faster by the year. Increasingly isolated, the wildlife inside reserves becomes more susceptible to inbreeding and whatever natural disasters sweep through. Now add pressures from a global environment in the throes of a strong and accelerating warming trend. We already know that species on oceanic islands face an elevated risk of extinction. We also know that the smaller an island is and the farther away it lies from other areas with wildlife populations, the less variety of life it is able to support over time.

We owe earlier conservationists our praise for scrambling to save nature by placing intact chunks of it off-limits to most kinds of human disturbance. At the time, it wasn’t clear that separate, scattered tracts could not by themselves fulfill the promise of preserving our natural heritage into the future. Hardly anyone foresaw how crowded and busy the world would soon be. That left present-day conservationists with a problem. But there is a fix for it: connections, the very same quality I’ve been examining throughout this book as the essence of living systems large and small.

If you want to see connectivity being built into a region’s landscapes, you could grab a backpack and do some roaming of your own along the backbone of North America. There, you’ll find the Yellowstone to Yukon Conservation Initiative (or Y2Y, as both the region and the organization are nicknamed) at work. Its goal is to conserve the 2,000-mile segment of the Continental Divide ecoregion that stretches from Wyoming’s Wind River Range to the headwaters of the Peel River in Canada’s Yukon Territory.

Audacious? By past standards, definitely. In terms of what we know about conservation now? It’s what’s called for.Book cover

Look at the heritage at stake: half a million square miles of spectacular topography holding scores of reserves — among them, the world- renowned national parks of Grand Teton, Yellowstone, Glacier, Waterton Lakes, Banff, and Jasper. Y2Y is one of the very few large landscapes in a temperate climate zone that still has all of its native species. They include the greatest variety of wild plants in Canada and the highest diversity of big wild animals in North America. Not only have there been no extinctions recorded here, nearly all the region’s flora and fauna are doing reasonably well, which is unusual anywhere on the globe nowadays.

Recognized wildland strongholds with prime habitats and unspoiled scenery form the cores, or focal areas, in Y2Y’s design for regional conservation. Gaining protection for some of the biologically richest spots not already safeguarded as parks or preserves is part of the plan. The second part is securing connections — variously called linkage zones, habitat bridges, wildlife corridors, passageways, or just wildways — from one stronghold to the next, ideally through the least disturbed places left in between. The final part of Y2Y’s mission embraces a necessary third dimension of connectivity in the Anthropocene: trying to blend conservation needs with the interests of local human communities.

The Initiative has more than 218 current partners in the United States and Canada. They include businesses, private landowners, Native American groups, scientists, resource institutes, and environmental organizations. It will take a coalition of this breadth to assemble a network of cores and varied connections that collectively operate as a meta-reserve across portions of two territories and two provinces in Canada and five U.S. states. If this vision becomes a reality, the entire ecoregion could continue to function at nearly full strength as a natural system. Indefinitely. And if the network only gets partially completed, that may still be enough to keep the natural realm from having to keep giving way, again and again, until the remnants stand huddled in refuges where people go to see what used to run far, wide, and free.

In 1993, the year the Y2Y coalition was formally launched, its ambitions were viewed by some as pie-in-the-sky-class unrealistic and by others as a grave threat to the economy. Protected core areas made up 10 to 11% of the ecoregion at the time. A quarter of a century later, that figure has more than doubled. Some of the added acreage consists of new national parks and wilderness areas. Recently established buffer zones, special management areas, recreation areas, natural areas, ecological reserves, state and provincial parks, and similar administrative units within Y2Y’s vast stockpile of public lands also count toward the core areas total.

Although few of these other segments are as strictly protected as a national park, the regulations governing them still provide an improved level of security for the native flora and fauna. The same holds true for various portions of public land given enough safeguards against unchecked development to help tie the core areas to one another. Land trusts contributed still more linkage acreage by arranging conservation easements with the owners of private properties. According to Y2Y’s analysis, total connectivity along the length of the Yellowstone to Yukon landscape increased from 5 percent in 1993 to more than 30 percent today.

Negotiations are underway to begin setting up Indigenous Protective Areas on treaty lands in Canada claimed by First Nations people. Since the Protective Areas are to be managed by the tribes to conserve traditional natural resources, they may soon add tremendous amounts of territory with improved management of the region’s living resources.

Now I understand what the Initiative’s first coordinator, Bart Robinson, meant when I asked him in the early 1990s what Y2Y was actually doing besides announcing worthy intentions, and he replied, “We’re in year two of a 100-year plan.” He was telling me that a conservation effort at this whopping scale necessarily starts with wishful thinking. The Initiative did a lot of that in its early years and still does. Willful optimism, steadily supplied, can be contagious. It has already helped make Y2Y one of the best-conserved mountain ecosystems in the world, and we’re still only in year 28 as of 2021.

Another important transformation was taking place in much of the ecoregion during the same period. Recreation and tourism became major generators of jobs and revenue. The long-standing ideology that more protection for the environment hurts business started going the way of typewriters and rotary dial telephones as environmental progress and economic progress kept advancing arm in arm through districts from northern Wyoming well into British Columbia and Alberta. Figures from the Outdoor Industry Association recently showed outdoor recreation in Montana surpassing agriculture to emerge as the largest, most dynamic sector of the state’s economy.

People like the phrase “Build it, and they will come.” Here, though, the planet built the main attractions — the towering scenery, mountain-fresh air and water, plentiful wildlife, and other natural features that economists speak of as amenities. We need only to sustain them. The role of conservation as a strong stimulant to businesses is becoming a social and political game-changer.

Residents of the Mountain West had grown accustomed to picking sides in the seemingly endless polarizing arguments between pro-industry representatives and conservationists, each camp labeling the other as the enemy of a brighter future. These days, more politicians and voters are looking toward the middle, intrigued by planning efforts that enlist a wide range of interest groups.

Cooperative decision-making certainly sounds good. In practice, finding common ground on environmental issues qualifies as one of the hardest challenges disparate groups can take on when they are more used to condemning opponents than listening to them. Can humans and wildlife truly prosper together over time? Of course they could.

The underlying issue has always been whether people with different backgrounds and interests can work well enough with one another to make a better level of coexistence with nature possible. In a way, Y2Y is an experiment to find out how much better that level could be.

© 2021 by Douglas Chadwick. Reprinted with permission by Patagonia.

Seahorses Extinction Assessment Reveals Threatened Species and Knowledge Gaps

The charismatic animals could serve as flagship species for ocean conservation, according to researchers, but only if we understand their extinction risks.

Last month conservationists working with SeaLife Aquarium in Australia dropped 18 biodegradable “hotels” into Sydney Harbor and Port Stephens to help one of the region’s most endangered species: tiny White’s seahorses (Hippocampus whitei).

The hotels — which look like cages but have bars spaced out enough for the 5-inch seahorses to swim through — are sorely needed. Recent research indicates that some White’s seahorse populations have fallen by as much as 95% due to commercial destruction of their marine habitats. The manmade domiciles — up to 100 of which will be deployed — will replace some of that lost habitat for both seahorses and their food. “A lot of marine growth such as sponges and coral will accumulate, and that provides a lot of food and shelter for the seahorses,” David Harasti, a marine scientist with the Port Stephens Fisheries Institute, told Australia’s 9News.

White’s seahorses are not alone in their plight. Research published this May in the journal Oryx serves as the first comprehensive assessment of the extinction risk for syngnathiform fishes, which include seahorses, pipefishes, seadragons, trumpetfishes, shrimpfishes, cornetfishes and ghost pipefishes. (A few related groups, such as goatfishes and seamoths, weren’t assessed for the paper because recent research shows they belong to a different taxonomic order.)

Collectively, the news for these varied and colorful species isn’t good, nor is it complete. The researchers — including two members of the IUCN SSC Seahorse, Pipefish & Seadragon Specialist Group — found that seahorses and their relatives face persistent threats from industrial trawl fisheries and habitat destruction, and to a lesser extent from pollution and trade. The 300 or so species often have limited ranges in coastal regions and freshwater lakes and rivers around the world, and many require specialized habitats, making them susceptible to disturbance.

dried seahorses
Photo: USFWS

As a result, researchers found, at least 6% of these species and up to 38% are threatened and at some risk of extinction.

Why the wide range? Despite seahorses’ popularity and charismatic qualities — like their prehensile tales and egg-carrying males — many of the 300-plus syngnathiform species remain cryptic. No one knows how well they’re doing or if they’re at risk. The researchers labeled 97 species “data deficient,” meaning they “could potentially be threatened.”

Of the species that could be assessed, the researchers found that 14 out of 42 seahorse species were at risk, including one endangered species and 12 considered “vulnerable to extinction.” Four additional seahorse species were discovered after the paper was submitted and aren’t included in that count. Pipefishes — which look like seahorses but have straighter bodies — have five species at risk, including one that’s critically endangered.

pipefish
Pipefish by Jayvee Fernandez (CC BY 2.0)

Luckily, the researchers evaluated 61% of these fishes as being of “least concern,” meaning they’re doing okay for now, but they still caution that this entire group of species needs targeted conservation efforts, especially in the estuaries of East and Southeast Asia and South Africa, where they face the most threat. The paper recommends “robust long-term monitoring programs … to evaluate population dynamics, fisheries, trade and habitat quality.” The researchers also call for dedicated coastal surveys, potentially using community science efforts such as iSeahorse.

All of this, the researchers wrote, would not only help seahorses and their relatives but also neighboring species: “Limiting fishing mortality, in particular by constraining bottom trawling and other nonselective fisheries, and ensuring healthy habitats is important both for the syngnathids and for other aquatic species. Given that the order is nearly global, there is potential for syngnathiformes, many of which are highly charismatic, to act as flagship species for ocean conservation.”

 

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That’s a tall order for these tiny fish, but perhaps this research can serve to round up the support necessary to conserve both the species and their coastal habitats — or at least to fill the knowledge gap so we can learn how those 97 data-deficient species fare around the world, and then protect them before it’s too late.

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6 Things to Know About Climate Change and Heat Waves

The deadliest weather event is often the most overlooked.

It’s hard not to think about how hot it’s been — even if you live somewhere that has escaped the heat in the past few weeks. When British Columbia clocks temperatures of 121 F, it gets the world’s attention. As it should.

Here are six reasons we need to be paying more attention to heat waves.

1. Deadly Numbers

Heatwaves may seem to lack the drama of other weather events with named storms and categorized wind speeds, but they’re actually the most deadly severe weather event.

Last week’s heat dome that locked the Pacific Northwest in a sweltering vice is an apt reminder. The prolonged stretch of record-high temperatures in British Columbia is estimated to have claimed around 300 lives. Another 76 deaths were reported in Washington and Oregon.

Across the world, things have been heating up — with deadly results. Between 1998 and 2017, heatwaves killed 166,000 people, the World Health Organization reports. That includes 70,000 who perished in Europe’s 2003 heatwave.

2. Yep, Climate Change

Not surprisingly, climate change is making things worse. An increase in global temperatures has resulted in a rise in the frequency of heatwaves. In the years to come, climate change is expected to also make heatwaves more severe and longer lasting.

As people pump up the air conditioning and stay indoors, that also puts increased pressure on the electrical grid. New research found that these extreme weather events are triggering more failures of critical infrastructure.

Power failures, for example, have jumped 60% since 2015. The combination of excessive heat and blackouts in major U.S. cities would have calamitous results. In Detroit, the researchers found in their modeling, that could mean 450,000 exposed to dangerous temperatures and a whopping 1.7 million in air conditioning-reliant Phoenix.

3. The Dangers of Humidity

The most recent deadly heatwave hit the arid West, increasing concerns about wildfires.

aerial view of fire
An aerial image of the McKay Creek fire in British Columbia acquired by the Operational Land Imager on Landsat 8 on June 30, 2021 during the region’s record-breaking heatwave. Photo: NASA

But heatwaves in more humid regions have doubled in the last 40 years, which poses another kind of threat.

Our bodies sweat to help keep us cool. But when the relative humidity is too high that moisture from our skin can’t evaporate as well and we don’t cool down. Scientists have identified the related wet bulb temperature of 95 F as the upper limit of what we can tolerate when conditions are both hot and extremely humid.

By midcentury, models predict, climate change will make wet bulb temperatures near 95 F a reality. But new research shows that areas in South Asia, the coastal Middle East and the coastal southwest of North America are already hitting that critical point.

4. Inequity Makes it Hotter

Not all people will face the same risks — even if they live in the same cities. Neighborhoods that lack tree canopy and green space, and have more road surfaces and large buildings, could be as much as 20 F hotter.

A 2020 study of 108 cities published in the journal Climate found that areas with higher temperatures are almost always the same neighborhoods that have experienced historic racist housing policies such as “redlining.”

“This study reveals that historical housing policies may, in fact, be directly responsible for disproportionate exposure to current heat events,” the researchers wrote. Another recent study in Nature Communications found that people of color have a higher risk than whites of high heat exposure in all but six of the largest 175 cities in the United States.

5. Wildlife at Risk

People aren’t the only ones feeling the heat. The Pacific Northwest’s recent heatwave also threatens cold-water-loving salmon. The Columbia and Snake rivers this year are seeing temperatures within two degrees of the “slaughter zone” that killed 250,000 sockeye in 2015, The Seattle Times reported.


The heatwave hit at the peak of the sockeye run, and also when spring and summer chinook and steelhead are migrating. Some fish are being pulled out of the river and trucked to hatcheries for spawning.

“We are crossing the line to temperatures that can be disastrous for fish,” Michele DeHart, manager of the Fish Passage Center, told The Seattle Times. “I would say the outlook is pretty grim.”

6. Vicious Circle

The hotter it gets, the more fortunate people who have air conditioning crank up the dial and the longer they’ll need to leave it running. In a fossil-fuel driven world, that means even more emissions that will continue heating the planet.

Already 10% of global electrical use is from people trying to stay cool with air conditioning and electric fans, according to the International Energy Agency. Expect that number to climb as temperatures get hotter and more people become able to afford A/C.

The International Energy Agency reports that over the next 30 years, air conditioning may be one of the top drivers of electricity demand. “Without action to address energy efficiency, energy demand for space cooling will more than triple by 2050 — consuming as much electricity as all of China and India today,” the agency reports.

That makes the need for high-efficiency cooling extremely vital. Not to mention more widespread use of renewable energy and, of course, drastically curbing climate emissions.

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Species Spotlight: The Elusive Snow Leopard

Efforts to broaden local participation for the conservation of this rare cat are currently ongoing across its global range.

Wildlife photographers have been known to wait weeks for the opportunity to capture the mysterious snow leopard on film. Climate change and other threats may soon make these beautiful cats even harder to spot, but a wide coalition has established a mission to protect them.

Species name:

Snow leopard (Panthera uncia)

Description:

Shy and elusive by nature, the snow leopard is found across the mountain ecosystems of Central Asia. This medium-sized cat has a tail as long as its body and thick, smoky-gray fur patterned with rosettes that allows it to survive in extreme cold.

Where it’s found:

Throughout the mountains of Central Asia in Afghanistan, Bhutan, China, India, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyz Republic, Mongolia, Nepal, Pakistan, Russia, Tajikistan and Uzbekistan

snow leopard
© Bishwarup Paul, some rights reserved (CC-BY-NC). Via iNaturalist

IUCN Red List status:

Vulnerable, with a decreasing population trend

Major threats:

Snow leopards have survived alongside pastoral and agropastoral communities that inhabit the mountain ecosystems of Central Asia for generations. Conflicts between herders and leopards all too often lead to retaliatory killings, which are a persistent threat to the species. Decreasing numbers of prey species across their global range also threaten snow leopards’ survival. They’re vulnerable to illegal hunting, as well, due to a demand for their fur and body parts used in traditional Asian medicine. Large-scale changes in land use across snow leopard range and emerging threats triggered by climate change are likely to compound these risks to the species in the future.

Notable conservation programs or legal protections:

The Global Snow Leopard & Ecosystem Protection Program (GSLEP) is an alliance of all 12 snow leopard range countries, nongovernmental organizations, multilateral institutions, scientists and local communities, all united by one goal: saving the snow leopard and its habitat. Key targets include securing 20 large landscapes across the global snow leopard range, initiating a global effort for population assessment of the world’s snow leopards (PAWS), and building capacity for conservation across range countries by working with local communities.

My favorite experience:

I remember an incident when a snow leopard was often seen close to a village where we work. This particular old individual was attacking livestock, since it was no longer capable of finding prey in the wild. While villagers faced losses, they were patient and did not harm the animal, as they recognized its advanced age and knew that a lot of visitors and tourists frequented the village to see this animal. When the leopard died of old age after a couple of weeks, the villagers retrieved its carcass and gave it an honorable cremation, fit for any respected resident of their community. The relationship people share with nature and wildlife is layered and hard to define.

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Life Under the Heat Dome

Climate change came for Portland, showing us that the worst is already here — and we can’t afford to ignore it any longer.

When you first step outside into 115-degree weather, it feels surprisingly good — like a full-body bear hug from a long-lost relative.

That lasts about two or three seconds.

After that, you start to really feel the heat. Your skin instantly goes dry, only to dampen again as your sweat glands jump into overdrive. Within a few more seconds, you’re sweating in places you’d forgotten about. Your clothes feel heavier with moisture, even as the first wave of it is whisked away from your body.

Then you feel it in your lungs and eyes. Breathing becomes a little bit harder, and blinking does nothing to alleviate the painful dryness.

Your muscles react soon after that. Those first few seconds of warmth fooled them into thinking they could be active and strong; then they give up on that idea in a flash, leaving you wobbly on your feet. If you’re going to do anything, your brain tells you, you’d better do it quickly.

You don’t want to do anything, though — except find relief.

heatwaveThis was life under the heat dome in the Pacific Northwest this past week. Late June temperatures in the Portland region typically stay in the mid-70s. Not this year. Maybe not any year ever again.

My family, it turned out, was both lucky and privileged enough to make it through the worst of the heat. We’re in one of the rare homes in the region that has central air conditioning, and we both work at home. Other than taking the dogs outside a few times a day, we could stay indoors in relative safety.

We still felt the heat, though. By the time temperatures reached their apex on June 28, the sun had been beating down on our townhouse for 10 hours. The walls and windows radiated with heat. We couldn’t drink enough water. Brain fog and lethargy settled in.

That was nothing, though, compared to many of our neighbors. Throughout the region, people suffered under the brutal blaze. Hospitalizations soared, and dozens of people died (hundreds, counting all the way into British Columbia). Cooling centers provided some relief, although the fear that they’d also serve as pandemic hot spots kept people from fully relaxing.

Infrastructure, all of it built for your typical Pacific Northwest summers, deteriorated too. Roads buckled. Electrical cables melted. Power grids crashed. Crops died. Stores closed to avoid the worst of the afternoon heat. The trees on my street turned brown along the edges and shed many of their leaves, the sudden shock too much for their systems.

We knew it was coming. Or, at least, we should have known. The warnings had been in place for years. Our governments, utilities and corporations — not to mention our families — should have prepared.

We all failed. Climate change came for us after all.

But in a sign of…I don’t know, progress?…the mainstream media mostly covered this heatwave as an event inspired by and typical of climate change, a rarity when it comes to extreme weather events. Coverage of another June heat event in Colorado, for example, mostly failed to mention climate change. This time, though, in article after article and broadcast after broadcast — not every instance, but enough — experts renewed their warnings that this is the shape of things to come. That we need to adapt. That we need to prepare. And that we need to act to ensure this doesn’t become the new normal.

But will we?

That question should haunt us. And we should demand action. Our leaders should sit up every morning and think “What can I do today to help make sure this doesn’t happen again tomorrow?”

They probably won’t, of course — at least, not at first — but we need to keep bringing the heat.

Because heat either kills or motivates us to get out of danger. Those are the only two options. Standing still in the face of climate change is a fool’s game — and a luxury we don’t have anymore.

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Refuge No More: Migratory Birds Face Drought, Disease and Death on the Pacific Flyway

The Western drought has exacerbated a water crisis, years in the making, that threatens the health of millions of birds — and so much more.

Extreme drought conditions gripping the West have stirred familiar struggles over water in the Klamath Basin, which straddles the Oregon-California border. Even in a good year, there’s often not enough water to keep ecosystems healthy and farms green — and this year is anything but good.

For the past two decades critics have simplistically reduced water woes in the basin to “fish vs. farms” in the battle for an increasingly scarce resource. This year, which is expected to be the lowest water year on record, it’s clear there aren’t any winners.

Credit: National Drought Mitigation Center

The Bureau of Reclamation, a Department of the Interior agency that oversees water resources in the West, has already shut the tap on irrigation water for farms in the area in order to maintain water levels in Klamath Lake needed to protect endangered suckers. It also halted releases into the Klamath River that help keep fish healthy. Following that, high temperatures and low flows fed an outbreak of the parasite Ceratonova shasta, causing a massive die-off of hundreds of thousands of juvenile salmon this past spring.

And another dire casualty hovers in the wings — birds.

Millions of birds migrate through the basin each year, relying on a complex of wildlife refuges that are quickly running dry. Last year drought conditions forced too many birds into too small a space, and 60,000 perished of avian botulism that spread quickly in close quarters.

Experts predict this year will be worse, and the problems could extend south to California’s Central Valley. Both places are critical stops on the Pacific Flyway, used by more than 320 bird species to feed and rest as they travel up and down the west coasts of North and South America.

Both the Klamath Basin and Central Valley will have limited water this year.

“We’re really concerned for what’s going to happen this fall and winter when birds are coming through the Central Valley and other drought-stricken parts of the Pacific Flyway, like the Klamath where habitat is extremely limited,” says Rachel Zwillinger, water policy advisor for Defenders of Wildlife. Water-supply reductions are creating concerns about inadequate food supplies and overcrowding on the small remaining areas of habitat.

“And then once you start to see that overcrowding, it creates serious concerns about outbreaks of disease,” she says.

Adding to the tragedy is that this is largely a crisis of our own making.

The Big Dry

At the turn of 19th century, 350,000 acres of wetlands, lakes and marshes stretched across the Klamath Basin. Two years later President Theodore Roosevelt signed the National Reclamation Act, and the agency now known as the Bureau of Reclamation began draining water, building canals, and converting soggy ground into something firm and farmable.

In all, about 80% of the historic wetlands dried up. The diverted water fed the Klamath Project, which the agency uses to supply irrigation water to farms. In one concession to nature Roosevelt created the country’s first waterfowl refuge at Lower Klamath Lake. Five more wildlife refuges in the basin were added over the years, but only two still contain critical wetland habitat today: Lower Klamath and Tule Lake National Wildlife refuges.

Unfortunately those remaining wetlands were cut off from natural water flows and weren’t allotted their own dedicated supply of water. Instead the refuges rely on agricultural runoff or excess water supplied by Klamath Project farmers.

Since the Bureau of Reclamation has shut off irrigation water for those famers this year, runoff flowing to the refuges will be vastly reduced, and there’s little chance of surplus becoming available later.

Dry refuge
A 2013 photo at the Lower Klamath National Wildlife Refuge. Photo: California Waterfowl Association

Jeff Volberg, director of water law and policy for California Waterfowl, fears more disease outbreaks of avian botulism will be on the way.

“The only way to stop that outbreak is with more water to flush the system and by getting out there and collecting dead and injured birds as quickly as possible,” says Meghan Hertel, director of land and water conservation for Audubon California, who was at the refuge last year during that grisly process.

And there are other concerns. In 2020, also a drought year, ducklings born at the refuges were stranded away from the water as the wetlands dried up over the season.

“You’d have ducklings walking a couple of miles to get to water,” says Volberg. “You lose a lot of ducks that way.”

Some birds also molt while at the refuge and remain grounded until they regrow their flight feathers. Leaving to find areas with more water isn’t an option for them. That leads to more crowding and more disease.

“It’s a perfect storm of everything going wrong,” he says. “You’re taking this historically huge lake and marsh complex and turning it into a desert. It’s a very tragic circumstance.”

More of the Same

California has a history of reclamation akin to Oregon’s.

The Central Valley used to be a vast network of wetlands with rivers that overtopped their banks in winter and recharged the marshes. “But once we dammed the rivers and created levies, we cut off the historic wetlands from their water sources,” says Zwillinger.

Today the Central Valley is the agricultural heart of the state, but just 5% of the historic wetlands there remain. Unlike in Oregon, federal, state and private refuges in the valley have a guaranteed entitlement to water under the Central Valley Improvement Project Act, passed in 1992.

The remaining wetlands are now managed much the way a farm would be, except the food grown is for birds.

“It’s very strategic when we put water on the landscape and when we take it off,” says Ric Ortega, the general manager of the Grassland Water District, which solely delivers water for habitat purposes for Central Valley refuges.

“We’re trying to germinate specific grasses that are high in amino acids and protein, but that are also readily decomposable, which causes an invertebrate bloom,” he says. “So there’s actually a fair amount of planning.”

This year the planning will be extra tough.

Although the wetlands have a guaranteed water supply, they’re not guaranteed to get all of it.  Five of the region’s 19 refuges still lack the physical infrastructure necessary to deliver water.

The others can also see cutbacks.

Sandhill crane in flight
A sandhill crane flies over the Llano Seco Unit of the Sacramento Wildlife Refuge Complex in 2020. Photo: Frank Schulenburg (CC BY-SA 2.0)

In years when flows into Lake Shasta in Northern California fall below a critical threshold, the federal government can short the refuges 25% of what’s known as their “level 2” water supply, which makes up about two thirds of their total allocation. The other third, known as “level 4,” is acquired by the Bureau of Reclamation from willing sellers on the open market.

This year the refuges will be shorted their 25%, and Ortega says they’re anticipating that Reclamation won’t be able to provide much, if any, of their level 4 supply either. He estimates that they’ll have only half their contracted water supply.

If you add that to the historic deficit, the picture is grim.

“In years like this, you can think of only 2.5% of historic wetlands being available for these 10 million birds that are coming our way, whether we like it or not,” says Ortega. “The boreal and the Canadian prairies are healthy and have been for the last couple of years. So we’re expecting lots of birds, a large hatch, to come in. The stars are aligning in a bad way.”

Managing for Shortage

In anticipation of that surge, refuge managers in the Central Valley will operate much like farmers and allow some of the land to go fallow.

“What that does is it not only shrinks the wetted footprint of the wetland habitat spatially, but it also shrinks that in time,” says Ortega. Being able to put less water on the land means it will also go dry more quickly.

“It’s an especially constraining and difficult situation given the Klamath is dry, so there’s really no stopover site there,” he says.

sick ducks on a boat
CWA Waterfowl Programs Supervisor Caroline Brady in 2020 with ducks that died of botulism, and sick ducks in the yellow crate. Photo: California Waterfowl Association

Early migrants may start to arrive in July, but the largest numbers congregate in late November and early December. Typically wetland managers in the region would begin putting water on the landscape in mid- to-late August and have it fully inundated by the end of September or early October.

“For this year, we will probably start putting water on the landscape in a big way in October,” says Ortega. “We have to be strategic about when we flood and ensure that we’ve got adequate water to maintain that footprint through the overwintering period. Ideally we can maintain it into late March and April. But that may not be in the cards if the winter is dry.”

Even if most birds won’t arrive for months, a lack of water in the summer also means that there’s likely to be inadequate food for hungry travelers later in the year. And because there are so few wetlands remaining, birds use agricultural land as surrogate habitat, says Hertel.

That’s especially true at in the Sacramento Valley, at the north end of the Central Valley. Waterfowl get about half of their diet from the area’s rice fields in the fall and winter. After harvest, rice farmers usually flood their fields to help with decomposition of the rice stalks, which attracts insects and creates food for birds.

But this year water cutbacks mean that rice farmers will likely use all their water to grow rice, or will sell it to other eager buyers, and won’t have any to flood fields later in the year. About 100,000 acres are also likely to be fallowed — another hit for migratory birds.

“If it doesn’t rain, that’s 50% of ducks’ diet gone in fall and winter,” says Hertel.

And it’s not just birds who rely on the refuges.

“These places are incredibly diverse,” says Ortega. In the Central Valley that includes minks, river otters, beavers, Tule elk, deer, bobcats, mountain lions and 300 species of bird. The wetlands also support threatened and endangered species like the giant garter snake, tri-colored blackbirds and western pond turtles. In the Klamath Basin, the area is also home to the largest wintering population of bald eagles in the lower 48.

Finding Solutions

With a potential crisis looming, what’s to be done?

Unfortunately there are no easy solutions when it comes to water in the West. Increasingly hot and dry conditions spurred by climate change — also a crisis of our own making — puts pressure on water systems that are already strained.

For the past century we’ve watered farms and grown cities while pulling more and more water out of watersheds. The bill for that is now coming due.

“In the Klamath, the system is overextended,” says Hertel. “You have tribes with very valid concerns about fish extinction — fish that are essential and core to their community and way of life. You have farmers who have had farms up there for 100 years who are going out of business and are worried about their families and their communities. And then you have the refuge, which is supposed to be this jewel of our Pacific Flyway system, receiving very little water and having massive die-offs.”

birds in canal
Ducks crowd into a canal on the Lower Klamath National Wildlife Refuge in Spring 2021. © Mary Williams Hyde

It’s a similar situation in California with thirsty farms, expanding cities, overtaxed watersheds and endangered species in the Delta — the linchpin of the state’s water-conveyance system.

But experts say there are both short and long-term solutions that could help. The first would be to get water to the refuges as quickly as possible.

In the Klamath, Volberg says, “We feel the most appropriate thing would be for the refuge to have its own dedicated supply from outside of the basin.” California Waterfowl has been raising money from private funders to buy water rights from willing sellers upstream. They’re hoping to acquire 30,000 acre-feet of water rights that upstream irrigators would leave in the river for the refuge downstream. “That would only really provide about one third of the water that the refuge really needs, but it’s a whole lot better than no water at all,” he says.

Buying the water is just the first hurdle. They’re awaiting approval for the water rights transfer from the Oregon Department of Water Resources. If that comes through, they’ll then need Reclamation to open the headgates to allow the water out of the river. That part may be trickier.

A certain level of water must remain in the top part of the system, Upper Klamath Lake, to protect two species of endangered suckers important to the Klamath Tribes. And water is needed downstream in the Klamath River to also protect endangered salmon vital to tribes such as the Yurok, Hoopa Valley and Karuk.

There’s also the other matter of anti-federalists threatening to forcibly turn on irrigation water for farmers.

Despite all that, Volberg hopes they’ll be able to pull off the water transfer this year and in the long run work with state and federal agencies to secure that 30,000 acre-feet permanently. But that will come with a price tag of $50 to $60 million, he says.

In the Central Valley, Ortega says federal and state resources are welcome, too. And the money can be used to stretch limited resources further. “We can rehabilitate groundwater wells and lift pumps and develop recirculation systems and do better monitoring,” he says.

Hertel says we’ll also need policy and infrastructure that can better help us manage limited water supplies in the future.

“This isn’t just a drought,” she says. “This is how water is operating in California under climate change. We need to be thinking about and preparing for drought every year.”

Ortega says we also need to better understand the value of wetlands — and not just for the benefits to birds and other wildlife. “These wetlands are really the kidneys of society,” he says. “They strip away harmful contaminants, provide flood control and slow down the flow of water to replenish groundwater.”

And that groundwater is the sole source of water for communities in the Central Valley, many of which are disadvantaged.

“There’s definitely an environmental justice element to all this,” he says. “We have to be mindful of water quality and all of the other benefits that wetlands provide.”

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Links From the Brink: Pipelines, Pesticides and Shrunken Brains

The month’s best (and worst) environmental news, along with other stories, science and context you don’t want to miss.

The news moves quickly — especially when it comes to environmental issues, which despite the threat of climate change still tend to get overlooked by major media outlets. We know how easy it is to miss critical stories and not be able to see the forest for the trees, so we’ve collected some of the best and worst news stories for the month, connected the dots to reveal a few trends, located updates to ongoing stories, and uncovered some new science and important transitions you won’t want to miss.

Welcome to Links From the Brink.

Best News of the Month: Keystone XL is kaput. TC Energy, the company behind the notorious pipeline, pulled the plug this month following more than a decade of protests. President Biden cancelled the pipeline’s permit a few hours after he took office, and that appears to have finally been TC’s signal to stop trying. It took ‘em nearly five months to admit defeat — even for a corporation, it’s hard to give up on your dreams.

Will similar, ongoing protests at the Line 3 pipeline have the same result? We live in hope — and also hope more protestors don’t get injured along the way (because things are escalating badly).

Worst News of the Month: Carbon dioxide levels reached another new high in 2020, capping out at 419 parts per million. This might seem shocking, since global greenhouse gas emissions famously fell 6% last year as a result of the pandemic, but it reflects all CO2 released over the years — gases that don’t just go away the minute we stop burning fossil fuels.

“We still have a long way to go to halt the rise, as each year more CO2 piles up in the atmosphere,” geochemist Ralph Keeling said in a statement. “We ultimately need cuts that are much larger and sustained longer than the COVID-related shutdowns of 2020.”

And imagine how much worse off we’d be if Keystone XL hadn’t been cancelled — or if Line 3 isn’t.

It’s All Connected: Stopping pipelines is great, but a new United Nations report warns that if we want to save the planet we need to address the twin crises of climate change and biodiversity loss.

It’s great to see both these threats being addressed at the same time. Now if only President Biden’s next budget would address the extinction crisis…

(Oh, and on a related note, the UN also declared the next 10 years the “decade of ecosystem restoration.”)

The Missing Link … of Death: We’ve covered the dangers of rodenticides a few times here at The Revelator, most recently linking the poisons to the deaths of endangered wildlife in the United States. Well, Americans aren’t the only ones overusing these deadly concoctions. A new study out of Tasmania finds a frightening level of rodenticide-related deaths of wedge-tailed eagles — one of the Australian island’s apex predators.

wedge-tailed eagle
Photo: Rod Waddington (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Here’s the twist: Wedge-tailed eagles don’t eat rodents. They eat animals that eat rodents, which means the poisons are traveling up the food chain all the way to the top. The study didn’t identify which animals served as the missing link, but smaller birds like ravens could be the carriers.

The study found high levels of a rat poison called brodifacoum in dead eagles, as well as flocoumafen, an agricultural pest-control toxin that’s part of a group of chemicals called “second-generation poisons” that kill with a single dose. But while these second-generation poisons are quite fatal to rats, death isn’t instantaneous. “Because these poisons take a while to kill the rodents, the rodents can…eat far more poison than they actually need to kill themselves,” Birdlife Australia raptor specialist Nick Mooney told the Australian Broadcasting Company. This makes the rats themselves super-toxic (and deadly) to anything that eats them. “They’re little walking time bombs,” he said.

The problem isn’t limited to the island of Tasmania. Over on mainland Australia, dozens of owls have been found dead over the past 18 months, and autopsies revealed internal bleeding from wounds that should have healed. Second-generation rodenticides are anticoagulants, so scientists suspect the poisons caused these deaths as well.

And tragically, as scientists warn at The Conversation, this could just be the start of more to come.

Food for Thought? Intensive human contact correlates with smaller brains.

OK, this isn’t a general statement (although it kind of feels that way). It’s research about how centuries of husbandry have reduced the size of the brains in various cattle breeds. Still, it speaks volumes — and raises novel ethical questions about the ways we raise our food.

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Cattle grazing on public lands. Photo: Greg Shine, BLM

The Bright, It Burns: Our Google News Alerts about light pollution were operating in overdrive this month. Here are just a few of the recent headlines:

That last one about orbital debris — maybe the solution involves not putting up so many satellites to begin with. Could NEPA, an environmental law normally applied to terrestrial problems, provide a tool to do just that?

You can find our previous coverage on light pollution here.

Meow Max: Last year I wrote about the threat feral cats pose to Hawaii’s unique species. Well, things have gotten even worse in the past 12 months, as the pandemic slowed down the state’s trap and sterilization efforts. Now experts worry that hungry cat populations will have a baby boom, which could push native species even closer to extinction.

Renewables on the Rise: The United States consumed (good word, BTW) a record level of renewable energy in 2020 — 11.6 quadrillion BTUs, according to the U.S. Energy Information Administration. That’s 12% of U.S. energy consumption: way too low, but still progress.

And that progress will continue: New solar installations are projected to increase 24% this year, although the industry faces supply-chain issues and a tight labor market that could limit further growth.

line of solar arrays
Solar reserve putside Tonopah, Nevada. Photo: Dan Brekke (CC BY-NC 2.0)

Meanwhile, new research from the International Renewable Energy Agency finds that the renewable energy generation installed in 2020 delivers power cheaper than coal.

But don’t count the coal industry out quite yet. So far this year the United States has actually produced 9.5% more coal than it did by this point last year, according to data released June 24 by the EIA. (Sigh…)

City of Amphibians: Los Angeles just published a list of 37 “umbrella indicator species” that reside within the city limits, along with a plan to monitor them. The list includes Baja California tree frogs, great blue herons, mountain lions, North American Jerusalem crickets and — of course — bumblebees. If these species thrive, it will serve as a sign that the city is keeping its natural spaces healthy and connected. To find out how they’re doing, the city will post species observations on citizen-science platforms like iNaturalist, which they hope will also help keep residents engaged about their local wildlife and public spaces.

This appears to be the first list or program of its kind. Hopefully it can serve as a model for other metropolitan areas.

If you’re in the Los Angeles area, the public can participate in monitoring during (and presumably after) the L.A. Bioblitz Challenge that runs through Aug. 7 — just don’t get too close to those mountain lions.

Heartbreaker: Why a dying U.S. Army veteran keeps fighting to end the toxic military burn pits that, in all likelihood, caused his terminal cancer — even as he shops for his own coffin.

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A burn pit in Afghanistan. SIGAR Inspection Report, via Special IG for Afghanistan Reconstruction.

Lawbreaker? Will ecocide join the ranks of genocide and war crimes at the International Criminal Court? A new draft law defines ecocide as “unlawful or wanton acts committed with knowledge that there is a substantial likelihood of severe and either widespread or long-term damage to the environment being caused by those acts.” It will take at least four years for this proposal to become official law, and it will have to jump several hurdles along the way, but hey, that gives certain corporations (you know who you are) plenty of time to line up their defense attorneys…

What’s Next? July is already shaping up to be quite a month, with continued drought and record heatwaves, a potential wolf slaughter in Idaho, and more protests over Line 3 — not to mention showdowns over voting rights, infrastructure and so much more that will affect environmental issues for years to come.

What are you watching or waiting for in the months ahead? Good news or bad, drop us a line anytime.

That does it for this inaugural edition of Links From the Brink. For more environmental news throughout the month, including bigger stories you won’t find anywhere else, subscribe to the Revelator newsletter or follow us on Facebook or Twitter.

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Sizzling in the South: Gulf Coast Communities Fight for Equitable Climate Solutions

Miami residents already live with the ramifications of climate change. That’s why organizers there have teamed up with other regions to share ideas.

Millions of tourists still flock to Miami’s prized beaches, but each year the sea steals a little more of those fabled sands. South Florida could see more than two feet of sea-level rise in the next 40 years, according to the region’s scientists.the ask

For a city built on porous limestone and racial inequality, this reality is already seeping in. With such immediate concerns, Miami has become a frontline community in the fight against climate change.

But climate is not the city’s only challenge.

Miami-Dade is a majority-minority county with a gaping wealth gap. It’s also part of a state with a history of environmental exploitation and a climate-change record ranging from lackluster to downright hostile.

As city leaders raise funds and develop game plans to tackle climate challenges, local groups are pushing to make sure the region’s most vulnerable populations aren’t left behind.

The work is part of a growing effort across the South to tackle both climate change and inequity — and to show the importance of local, community-driven action in states where climate change concerns have taken a backseat.  To understand more about how Miami can make climate resilience equitable and how communities are banding together across the conservative Gulf Coast, The Revelator spoke to Zelalem Adefris, vice president of policy and advocacy for Catalyst Miami, a nonprofit working with low-wealth communities in Miami-Dade County.

Given the threats facing Miami, what would climate resilience for the city look like to you?

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Zelalem Adefris of Catalyst Miami. Photo: Courtesy

Climate resilience is typically defined as being able to bounce back from a challenge. But I think our baseline is not necessarily where we want to be in terms of the wealth, prosperity and the ability of our communities to thrive.

For example, as sea-level rise affects the coast, people on higher elevation land, which typically are lower-income areas because they don’t have the coastal views, are now seeing housing costs rise exponentially and their communities are being targeted by developers. We call it climate gentrification.

We already have an affordable housing crisis here in South Florida. We have a lot of luxury condos and vacation homes for the very wealthy and not enough housing stock for people that actually live here.

So I hope that in the process of achieving resilience, working on climate justice, making whatever changes we need to make in order to take climate action, we’re also able to up that baseline to a higher expectation for all of our households across the county so people aren’t going back to a pretty low quality of life and are instead will be better off as we move.

What’s the public’s perception of climate change?

I would say most people already see climate change happening in their neighborhoods, but they might not always know that it is climate change. We’ll talk to people about extreme heat and how Miami has added almost two months of summer — so days over 90 degrees — since 1970. People who have been here for that long recognize that, they felt that change and how the years have gotten significantly hotter. So we don’t find too much pushback because unfortunately it’s our lived reality. Our work is more like naming that reality.

What kind of support for solutions do you see from state and local governments?

We’ve been working with the local government for a really long time. They are getting on board and coming up with climate action plans and are a great partner of ours. Sometimes we need to push, but ultimately we work really well with them.

I would say at the state level, unfortunately, we’re seeing a lot of preemption. There are bills and legislation being passed to actually move a lot of local decision-making to the state level, especially around environmental issues like climate change and plastic.

And as you can imagine, the state does not really move the needle on these issues at nearly the level of our local governments.

Miami became one of the first cities to appoint a chief heat officer. That’s a pretty serious admission about how climate change is affecting the area. How is the city tackling the problem of an increase in dangerously hot days?

Jane Gilbert is the one appointed to that role. She’s actually the former chief resilience officer of the city of Miami, so we know her well. She is working with us and other partners on pushing policy and county programming to address heat. For outdoor heat, so far that effort includes stuff like more tree canopy and addressing concerns about waiting for public transit with a really inefficient bus system while people have no cover to protect them from the heat. We’re also hoping to expand outdoor heat efforts to protections for workers too, because we have an agricultural economy here.

And then there’s also indoor heat issues, so being able to afford your electricity bill, having functioning air conditioning, having a quality of housing in which you don’t have cracks in the wall that leak all your cool air — and your money — out into the heat.

How does your work fit into broader climate resilience efforts, or challenges, in southern states?

Gulf South for a Green New Deal is an initiative to try to get together folks from all the Gulf South states — Florida, Texas, Louisiana, Alabama and Mississippi — to talk about strategies that are specific to our states.

I think having spaces for states in the South or other states with challenging legislative atmospheres is always good. It’s great to hear what’s coming out of states like California and New York, but it can be difficult sometimes here in Florida.

We don’t necessarily have the longstanding environmental institutions, but we do a good job of collaboration and leading with community voices first and community priorities. And we’ve had some powerful local wins throughout the years. I think anytime you see a conservative state making policy gains, there’s definitely something to learn from there.

In South Florida, since the state’s inception, there’s been an onslaught against the environment. Development has been prioritized in the entire history of the region, starting with the Everglades — you have to pave over the Everglades to even get here for the most part. So we have a legacy that needs to change.

But at the same time, for all of its existence, there’s also a legacy of people fighting for what’s right. That’s what we lean on as well.

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How the United States Must Help Sharks Around the World

American fisheries feed an intense global demand for shark fins. A new bill could help close several critical gaps in the rules.

Sharks should be afraid of us. After evolving as a highly specialized lineage of fish for over 400 million years and surviving five major extinction events, they now face the most serious threat they’ve ever faced. A 2021 study published in Nature found that 71% of sharks and rays have been fished out of the sea in the past 50 years. At least 25% of shark species are now at risk of extinction.

One major threat to sharks comes from overfishing, driven largely by the high demand for the Asian delicacy known as shark fin soup.

shark fin soup
Shark fin soup. Photo: Andrew Currie (CC BY-SA 2.0)

This market for high-value shark fin, coupled with the low or nonexistent market for shark meat, has led to the practice called shark finning — cruelly and wastefully catching and killing a shark just for its fins. This often includes discarding the finless, still-living shark overboard. Most sharks need to swim to breathe, and the victims of this practice either suffocate or bleed to death on the ocean floor — a painful and ignoble death.

Shark fins, often called the “blood diamonds of the sea,” are associated with cruelty, human slavery and these creatures’ looming extinction. Impacts from habitat loss and warming seas serve as the nails in the coffin for many shark species in the fin trade.

Shark finning has been illegal in U.S. fisheries since the year 2000. It’s similarly banned in more than 30 countries and has been condemned by the United Nations. Although finning itself is forbidden in many places, the trade and sale of shark fins acquired through other means is still legal in nearly all countries, including 36 U.S. states that allow the harvesting of sharks as long as the full body is brought to port. This contributes to the decline of many shark populations.

Driven to save sharks from extinction, environmental advocates and legislators have worked state by state, from Hawaii to New York, to reduce the trade of shark fins as well as reduce overfishing. In October 2020 Florida became the 14th state to ban the sale and trade of shark fins. This was a positive step for protecting sharks from poaching and targeting sharks for their fins by limiting flow and pressure on domestic populations. Perhaps more importantly, these bipartisan state bills are largely supported (and in many cases sponsored) by Asian Americans, who send a message across the ocean that sharks are more important swimming in the sea than in a ceremonial bowl of soup.

However, the lucrative shark fin trade still allows endangered shark fins to flow across state lines and be sold and exported. Nearly all fins from sharks harvested in the United States are exported to Hong Kong, Singapore and ultimately China for consumption in luxury shark fin soup.

Shark fins
Shark fins for sale in Hong Kong in 2006. Photo: Gregg Tavares (CC BY 2.0)

But the United States has been paving the way for international shark protection. The state of Hawai‘i just passed a law that will prohibit shark fishing entirely in state waters — and was the first state in the Union to prohibit the sale and trade of shark fin.

Now we have a chance to take what started in the states to the next level. In the Senate, Cory Booker (D-N.J.) reintroduced the Shark Fin Sales Elimination Act (S 1106), which is similar to a bill passed through committee but killed in the 116th Congress last year by Senator Marco Rubio. The Senate bill was included as an amendment to a Senate legislative package, known as the Endless Frontier Act, which successfully passed the Senate June 8 for World Oceans Day. The House companion bill HR 2811, sponsored by Gregorio Kilili Camacho Sablan, a Democrat representing the Northern Mariana Islands, and Michael McCaul (R-Texas) is now under consideration.

Why Action in the U.S. Will Help Globally

Shark fins’ high value incentivizes commercial fisheries in the United States to supply Asia with the products. The American shark-fishing industry, which profits from fin sales, opposes the proposed law and claims trade restrictions will hurt “sustainable” shark fisheries. These fisheries sell shark meat but benefit much more from the higher value received from fins. Without the value of the fin, the low value of the meat would lead to reduced pressure on domestic shark populations and send a global message that the dish coveted by wealthy consumers is a luxury that is harmful to the ocean.

To address the U.S. contribution to the global trade and impact on shark species, several major problems must be addressed. Among them are the ways shark fisheries report and label their catches. In the United States a shark fin is only classified as a “fin” if it’s dried. This means shark fins that were removed postmortem or are either wet, kept on ice, or preserved in some other manner are not classified as fins, which leads to a vast underreporting of sharks killed.

Another issue stems from the lack of federal regulations tracing catch and fins, resulting in the inability to truly monitor and track the quantity of shark fins traded in and out of the country every year. Previous studies have shown the U.S. reports dramatically smaller levels of shark fins imported to and exported from the country than other nations report on their sides of the trade.

Similarly, the illegal trade must be addressed. Like many wildlife products that are valuable and easily transported, shark fins are also associated with smuggling and other crime. On Sept. 28, 2020, a report regarding an illegal shark fin trading ring shipping fins in and out of Florida found the company illegally exported around 12,500 pounds of shark fins between 2016 and 2017.

smuggled shark fins
Smuggled shark fins recovered during Operation Thunderbird in 2019. Photo: USFWS

The Endless Frontier Act and HR 2811 would address these issues, and we urge the legislatures to pass these vital protections.

It’s Time to Act

Sharks are many things. They are an ancient lineage of highly diverse fish that fill a breadth of ecological niches in marine ecosystems and play a significant role in many cultures’ mythology and heritage. Sharks also loom large in the media, and (incorrectly) in some people’s minds as fearsome and vicious man eaters. In reality large sharks are both apex predators and keystone species, meaning that the success and health of the ecosystems in which they live are also in critical danger of collapse. These fish maintain the balance of ocean ecosystems that provide the very oxygen humans need to survive. Recent studies have even indicated that the presence of predatory sharks can protect carbon sinks in the ocean, mitigating climate change.

shark fins
Shark fins drying on a sidewalk. Photo: Nicholas Wang (CC BY-SA 2.0)

And yet despite their importance on so many levels, and despite many years of calls for their protection, sharks are still being overfished at an alarming rate, and the shark fin trade threatens large species of sharks like hammerheads and oceanic whitetip with extinction in our lifetimes.

We can solve that. Although regulating fins is not a comprehensive panacea to save sharks, the U.S. can reduce threats and save endangered sharks that swim in its waters and focus on other threats ranging from habitat loss to illegal fishing. We need the federal government to take action on stricter regulations of protected species, including no-retention of oceanic whitetips, with these or any other new laws to address the gaps creating these problems.

It’s time we act in the interests of wildlife and ocean health for the survival of all species. We can start with saving sharks from extinction.

The opinions expressed above are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect those of The Revelator, the Center for Biological Diversity or its employees.

California’s Opportunity to Shape Worldwide Biodiversity Policy

The United States has failed to take leadership in the Convention on Biological Diversity. Its most biodiverse state can fill that gap.

California, like the rest of the world, must wrestle with a hard truth: Our climate has changed. As we face another water-shortage crisis, we must acknowledge a sobering reality: We’re not in a drought. This is our new normal. And we need to adapt.

It’s becoming increasingly clear that we can’t solve our drought, or the myriad other environmental crises, without protecting our ecosystems. And we can’t protect our ecosystems without acknowledging that this work is globally connected. That’s why we — as a member of California’s State Assembly, the political and organizing director of the California League of Conservation Voters, and an environmental policy advisor and community leader — believe our state must become a leading force for engagement in the United Nations Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD).

sea lions on rocks
Sea lions in La Jolla, California. Photo: Shutter Runner, (CC BY-NC 2.0)

This fall California will have the opportunity to make a difference at the Convention’s 15th Conference of Parties in Kunming, China, where 196 nations will meet and agree on a strategy to protect nature called the “Global Biodiversity Framework.” Even though the CBD is the world’s only treaty to protect biodiversity, the United States never ratified it. Instead, our nation is an “observer” to the treaty and has been mostly disengaged — a massive leadership gap.

But California is now an observer, too. This was finalized in December by the Newsom administration, thanks to the California Natural Resources Agency’s Secretary Wade Crowfoot and a statewide coalition of environmental organizations that advocated alongside us throughout 2020. We join other actively participating subnational governments from around the world like Quebec (Canada), Scotland (United Kingdom), Aichi Prefecture (Japan) and São Paulo State (Brazil) — all of which are committed to protecting our environment and also wield enormous political and economic influence. As an observer, California can make a powerful impact as a leading U.S. voice at the 15th conference by advocating for ambitious action and partnering with other subnational governments to increase our clout, especially if the federal government fails to do so.

But it’s important that we develop this opportunity the right way and that the California Natural Resources Agency, which is leading our participation, meaningfully engages California’s organizations and communities at every step.

California Coastal National Monument
California Coastal National Monument. Photo: David Ledig/BLM

We’ve seen in California that biodiversity is a unifying issue. Protecting nature is fundamental to mitigating climate change, growing affordable and healthy food, preserving clean air and water, limiting the spread of disease, and advancing the health and well-being of families and children. This is about social and environmental justice, from equitable green cities and clean energy transitions for our workforce, to job opportunities arising from restoring our ecosystems and becoming sustainable.

As residents of America’s most biodiverse state, Californians know this firsthand. Our economy, from agriculture to tourism, is heavily dependent on biodiversity. We rank first in the nation in agricultural production, and the value of our crops that depend on pollinators like insects is approximately $11.7 billion. In 2020 the benefit to California’s economy from national park tourism was approximately $4.276 billion. In our cities the value of services from our urban trees, from cooling buildings to removing air pollution (which reduces healthcare costs), is estimated at $1.4 billion. The Angeles National Forest is responsible for about 384,000 acre-feet of water per year, with a value to Los Angeles area households of $4.12 billion.

Despite this California’s biodiversity is threatened by urban sprawl, climate change, invasive species and more. We’ve lost about 1 million acres of natural area since 2000 and about 20% of our native species. Along our coast the loss of kelp forests has devastated marine species and our fishing industry.

Kelp and sardines
Kelp and sardines. Photo: Robert Schwemmer, NOAA National Marine Sanctuaries

In response we’re already stepping up as a role model and a leader. Last fall Governor Newsom signed an executive order making California the first state to commit to protect 30% of our land and coastal waters by 2030, which is currently a key target of the CBD’s draft framework. California’s 30×30 commitment covers everything from coastal wetlands to urban parks and healthy soils management. And it establishes a new California Biodiversity Collaborative. In January President Biden followed suit, making a similar 30×30 pledge in in one of his first executive orders — a powerful example of how when California leads, the nation often follows.

These state and local efforts are crucial. We still have a long way to go to deliver on our promises, but we can and must get there. The impacts of biodiversity loss, from pandemics to worsening climate change, do not recognize borders. As a wealthy nation, the U.S. should not stand by while other nations and poorer communities bear the cost of damages to which we contribute.

But as an observer, California can contribute critical input to the framework’s development. We can advocate to increase its effectiveness and ensure its success by:

    • Engaging our diverse communities and stakeholders in the process of developing our state’s input on the goals, targets, implementation and other aspects of the framework.
    • Raising global ambition to protect nature by leveraging our expertise, global relationships and economic clout.
    • Teaming up with other subnational governments to press for accountability and action.
    • Showcasing forward-thinking policies and proposals and being a model stakeholder.
    • Being a role model to other U.S. states in hopes of increasing America’s subnational government engagement, as well as our national engagement.

Any strategy to save nature is unlikely to succeed without strong participation, awareness and buy-in from local communities, including Indigenous peoples. California should not only engage local stakeholders in our input to the CBD, but also show the world how an inclusive approach can create a path to long-lasting success.

In addition, critical regional efforts and accomplishments across the state — such as adopting a partnership-based approach to management of marine protected areas, connecting wildlife corridors and habitat in Southern California, the Los Angeles County measure that will create parks in high-need areas, or crafting ecologically resilient responses to the growing wildfire issues — can provide an example to global policymakers of the power of local leadership to meet big goals. We must also work with our local environmental justice communities to inform global discussions about equity, education and awareness. Local engagement will be key to ensuring strong implementation and accountability in meeting biodiversity goals.

California has much to share, but we still have much to learn. By participating in the convention, we will benefit from the exchange of knowledge and the creation of relationships. We will learn from other observers, such as Indigenous peoples, subnational governments and the many nations that are party to this treaty.

Newt on a log
California newt. Photo: J. Maughn (CC BY-NC 2.0)

California has already proven its commitment to global environmental engagement. When Trump announced his intention to quit the Paris Agreement in 2017, we led states and cities nationwide in a united effort to double down on climate action. In 2019 California attended the 25th climate COP  in Madrid and helped fill the leadership vacuum left by the Trump administration. We proved that California can be a critical player on the world stage working to solve the biggest challenges of our time.

Now we’re linking biodiversity to our efforts and, together with our diverse California communities, we will be a game changer for the future. We must get it right for our state and the world.

The opinions expressed above are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect those of The Revelator, the Center for Biological Diversity or its employees.

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