A Future With Little to No Snow? What That Means for the West

A new study hopes to inspire water managers — and the rest of us — to begin planning for how climate change will dramatically reduce snowpack.

It’s that time of year in the West. Winter enthusiasts have started waxing their skis and crossing their fingers for a plentiful snowpack — something that’s been in short supply of late. Of course, it’s not just recreation at stake, as a sweeping drought still has a hold over a region that needs a lot more water to replenish depleted reservoirs and ecosystems.

While tourists watch the weekend weather reports, scientists also have their eye on winter conditions further ahead.

A new study in Nature Reviews Earth & Environment sounds the alarm about mounting research showing the West is on track for a future where little to no snow becomes a regular winter occurrence. If greenhouse gas emissions aren’t reduced, models show significant reductions in snowpack in the West’s mountains over the next 35 to 60 years — with far-reaching implications for ecosystems, agriculture and communities.

Erica Siirila-Woodburn, a research scientist at Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory and one of the study’s lead authors, says these findings shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise. The April 1 snow-water equivalent — a common measurement to determine the amount of water in snowpack — has already declined by 20% since the mid-1950s.

“This isn’t a future problem. This is something that’s already happening,” she says.

While things aren’t great now, they’re likely to get much worse during the second half of the century, the study explains.

During the second half of the century, the models predict that most years in the West — from 78-94% of winters — will see little to no snow. California will experience this shift first. Five consecutive years with less than half the usual snowpack could occur as early as the late 2040s, compared to the 2060s for other mountain basins in the West.

Despite these troubling predictions, the issue of snowpack declines still doesn’t get enough attention in discussions about climate change, says study co-author Alan Rhoades, a hydroclimate research scientist at Lawrence Berkeley.

“We wanted to elevate the urgency of snow loss to the level of some other climate impacts that we often see in the news, like sea-level rise, wildfires and extreme weather events,” he says. “We view this as one of the central issues for the Western U.S. in terms of water supply, reliability and ecosystem health.”

A significant decline in winter snowpack is likely to have “multibillion-dollar implications,” the study explains.

The West’s water system was built around reliance on a snowpack that builds up over the winter months and then melts in the late spring or summer, helping to fill reservoirs and irrigate farmland at the driest times of the year.

The accumulation of snow in the mountains function like giant reservoirs — and big ones.

snow along creek
Snow runoff near Phillips Station in the Sierra Nevada Mountains on Feb. 27, 2020. Photo: Jonathan Wong / California Department of Water Resources

“The April 1st snow-water equivalent in the Sierra Nevada roughly doubles the surface reservoir storage of California,” explains Rhoades. “Not only that, snow is this bridge between when precipitation starts to shut off — like when we start to stop getting atmospheric rivers or these major storm events that drive precipitation — and then when peak demand occurs.”

But warmer temperatures from our burning of fossil fuels are changing how much snow falls. It’s also leading to runoff occurring earlier in the year, which may not align with when it’s needed most by people — or plants and animals.

Warming temperatures also mean that even less water may reach downstream reservoirs because it’s being absorbed by thirstier soil and plants along the way — further diminishing water supply.

Sometimes even a seemingly small reduction in snow can have large effects on water availability when combined with higher temperatures and drought conditions — as was the case recently in the Colorado River basin.

“Last year, there was 83% snowpack in the Colorado Rockies that really turned into about 30% hydrology, meaning that by the time the snow melted, only 30% of it actually went into hydrology — into the river and down the basin,” Randy Lavasseur, acting superintendent of the Lake Mead National Recreation Area, told the Camas-Washougal Post-Record.  “The rest of it, the soils were so dry, it just absorbed in the soil.”

Less water available for ecosystems could change what kinds of plants are able to grow. Drier vegetation can also increase wildfire risk. And decreased water in rivers and wetlands could harm a host of aquatic species. Already many species of salmon are struggling to survive in rivers where low flows become too warm in summer months for the cold-water loving fish — a scenario that’s likely to get much worse with a diminishing snowpack.

People, too, will feel the pinch.

A major reduction in water supply could dry up millions of acres of irrigated agricultural land and reduce the drinking water available to rural residents and urban dwellers alike, while also reducing power from hydroelectric generation.

While the most significant reductions in snowpack are still decades ahead, planning for potential changes to water availability should start happening right away, the study’s authors say.

“The climate is projected to change pretty dramatically over the next 50 years,” says Rhoades. “So if we do need more infrastructure or we need to alter how we manage our infrastructure, how do we take into account the changing hydro-climate?”

We’ll need to get creative with ways to reduce how much water we use and stretch water supplies further. Conservation and efficiency will be needed across households and industries. Groundwater reservoirs can be actively managed to increase storage capacity to take better advantage of surplus water when it occurs. And new technologies can help better manage reservoirs, treat polluted water, or transform wastewater into potable water.

Whatever solutions are employed, though, they’ll need to be done with the long-term climate picture in mind and other ecological considerations, like preserving biodiversity.

“Decisions and investments made today will extend multiple generations, operate for half-centuries or more, and need to function within rapidly changing hydroclimatic conditions,” the researchers write.

Employing different demand and supply-side solutions will also take time, money and a lot of collaboration — which is why the study’s authors urge action right away. And not just from water managers. Everyone from academics to stakeholders and policymakers need to get out of their traditional “silos” and work together to address the problem.

“I think partnership shouldn’t be overlooked,” says Siirila-Woodburn.

With an entire water infrastructure system built across the West “based on the assumption of an abundant snowpack,” he says, “there hasn’t been a lot of proactive thought in a concerted way on what we do about that changing.”

The time to begin that proactive planning, Siirila-Woodburn says, is now.

“This needs to be an urgent consideration.”

Previously in The Revelator:

The Western United States Is a Hotspot for Snow Droughts

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

A new podcast puts BIPOC storytelling front and center in working for solutions to the plastic crisis.

Forget clothes made out of recycled plastic. Forget beach cleanups. These are just distractions, says Shilpi Chhotray. She’s the founder of the new podcast People Over Plastic, a BIPOC storytelling collective that’s taking on plastics, climate change, and racial and gender justice — one episode at a time.

To Chhotray, the real solutions to halting the plastic crisis come from stopping the production of plastics and the fossil fuels needed to make them. And from scaling zero-waste supply chains, businesses and cities. And from addressing the harms done to communities of color that have borne the brunt of plastic pollution for decades — both in the United States and abroad.the ask

Want to know more? Chhotray hopes so. After years of working as an activist and communications leader on plastics issues, she founded the podcast to focus on how we can work together to address the crisis.

Each episode, around 30 minutes, features two guests — usually one from the United States and another from either Asia, Africa or Latin America. It’s a balance of stories about innovation, art, and activism — all pointing toward solutions, all told by BIPOC voices — with a goal of taking the conversation about plastics well beyond traditional environmental circles.

The Revelator spoke with Chhotray about the power of storytelling, upcoming guests she’s most excited about and who she hopes listens to the podcast.

You’ve been working on plastic issues for a while. How did the idea of this podcast come about?

People Over Plastics founder Shilpi Chhotray. Photo: Smeeta Mahanti

I come from a marine science and conservation policy background. I started looking at microplastics in fish in 2014. Back then it was called marine debris — people weren’t even calling it plastic pollution yet. Over the years I learned that that was just the tip of the iceberg. When I joined Break Free From Plastic in 2017, I got laser-focused on the human side of the issue and the social justice side of it.

I worked at Break Free From Plastic for about four years and I loved every second of it. I was meeting with people all over the world. I was part of very complex and interesting strategy conversations. The missing link, though, was that we were not getting outside the regular environmental circles. When I talked to people outside of our community, they didn’t really know that plastic came from oil. And I was seeing more and more of these influencers and celebrities wearing sports bras made of recycled water bottles. We know that isn’t a real solution, it’s a distraction.

After giving birth to my son, I spent about four months on maternity leave [and] I was really able to step back and just sort of marinate on what I was seeing from the outside. I decided I wanted to get even more honed in on the storytelling side of things and getting into circles that weren’t talking about the intersectional issues of plastic, which are so important.

So that’s where this idea was born for a storytelling collective led by BIPOC voices. The podcast has three focus areas; climate, innovation, and racial and gender justice. Generally, all of the episodes cover these three pillars.

There’s a lot of press about the threat to ocean life from plastics. Tell me about the coverage gap you’re trying to close by focusing on BIPOC communities that are also in harm’s way.

By focusing on just the ocean, you’re putting the accountability on the end of the lifecycle, which means consumers. It’s a very easy way for corporations to divert attention from their role in the crisis.

The other thing that misses is that it’s communities of color all over the world — from the Gulf South in the United States to Manila, Philippines — who are the most impacted in very brutal ways by the entire plastic pollution lifecycle. We’re not just talking about a little bit of trash in the community. They’re drowning in it.

And oftentimes it’s trash from another part of the world. The United States is outsourcing about 60% of our waste. When you talk to recycling centers, they’ll say they’re sending it to foreign markets. These “foreign markets” are often the backyards of my friends.

I’ve visited a lot of these communities and they have some of the brightest minds working on this issue. But unfortunately, their voices aren’t always the ones making headlines.

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.

The most powerful way to do that is to set up systems so that people can tell their own stories.

The very first interview in your podcast is with artist Von Wong. What kind of power do you think art has to move the needle on this issue?

Art is this incredible way to pull people in by not saying anything at all. And I’m a very wordy individual — I’m a communicator. But I wanted to have this first episode present itself as discovery-to-frontline. And what I mean by that is art can be a way to discover an issue, whether you’re deep in the weeds of it like me or are someone who has decided to skip the straw during lunch — who might not know all the issues but knows this isn’t good for the planet.

So this is a way to pull people in from all walks of life with different backgrounds on plastics and intersectionality. Von Wong’s work is really, really exciting. It’s almost fantasy-like, and he uses plastic in a way that you can’t look away from it.

He’s a long-time friend of mine and when he started telling me about his Turnoff the Plastic Tap project, which was featured in episode one, I was really interested in the oil piece. So it’s not just turning off the tap on the brands and the corporations, let’s also turn the tap off on the industry that’s producing it, which is fossil fuels.

That was a really important hook for us to start with and then go to Miss Sharon [Lavigne], who is on the frontlines of the fossil fuels and petrochemicals side of things [in St. James Parish, Louisiana].

What are some of the other stories you’re featuring?

One of the people I interview in episode three is the great-grandson of the famous dabbawalas network in India. It’s a 130-year-old system. These gents get on a bike and they deliver a hot lunch to people at work every day in a [metal lunchbox]. It’s not a catering service, though — they go to the house of the person at work, pick up the lunch from whoever’s cooking it, and then they bike with it over to the place of work to deliver the hot lunch. There’s no plastic in this system. There’s no emissions because they’re on bikes. In Mumbai they deliver around 200,000 lunches a day.

I also talked to Zuleyka Strasner, who’s an incredible entrepreneur. She also has a very interesting background being Black and trans and competing for money with Silicon Valley 22-year-old Stanford tech kids. She founded Zero Grocery, which is scaling the supply chain to be as efficient as Amazon, but completely plastic free.

These are the kinds of people I’m interested in. Yes, they are people of color. Yes, they have inspiring lived experiences. But they’re also wicked smart and they’re scaling these systems that could be replicated in every city in the world. That’s what’s going to move the needle.

It’s not whether I have my Klean Kanteen [reusable bottle] today. That’s not enough anymore and we need to get that message across. And that goes for policies to ban the bag. Great, ban the bag. Ban the straw. We need an overhaul of all the problematic single-use items and then also stop the petrochemical industry from growing. And we do that through the Break Free From Plastic Pollution Act, which is in Congress right now.

We’re really trying to drive home the message to decisionmakers that who is at the table matters tremendously. BIPOC people are impacted by this issue the most. We need to be not only inviting them to the table but creating the space for them to create the table as well. That’s actually what episode two is about. It’s called “If you’re not at the table, you’re on the menu.”

Knowing that personal responsibility isn’t enough, what should people do to try and affect the system-level changes we need?

That’s such a good question. I want to meet people where they’re at. That’s why I created this podcast, because not everyone has the bandwidth to call their senator, do a letter-writing campaign or show up at Starbucks to protest. After I became a mom, it really changed my mindset and got me thinking about what people can do on their morning commute, when they’re in the shower, when they’re at the dinner table. Could they listen for 30 minutes to these stories? Then, if they feel compelled, take that next step and learn about a policy or a brand audit or how to force corporations to be more accountable.

One of the easiest things people can do is tweet. If you can tweet a story and tag a brand and be like, “Hey, I like your product, but I hate your packaging. Do something about it.” It shouldn’t be on the consumer. These multibillion-dollar corporations have multibillion-dollar budgets, and they need to innovate.

That’s really my ask: Can you use the platforms that are at your fingertips to make some noise?

One of my friends told me that she was shook after hearing Miss Sharon’s story. She happens to have 95,000 followers on Instagram. If she puts out that one story, that in my mind is its own campaign tool.

For us, we’re asking people to listen and have a chat with your kids at dinner, or if you’re the kid, have a chat with your parents over lunch. I think there’s something really powerful about learning stories.

I would like everybody to listen to this podcast, which is probably not the smartest [goal] because everyone’s like, “you need to figure out your target audience.” But you know, my target audience is honestly the planet.

There’s so much power in these stories that wherever you are in society — whether you’re a fifth grader or you are somebody that’s a policymaker — there’s a way for you to plug in.

Previously in The Revelator:

Plastic Pollution: Could We Have Solved the Problem Nearly 50 Years Ago?

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Feeling Hopeless About the Climate? Try Our 30-Day Action Plan

Doing something every day will help to change your attitude and create momentum for change.

A recent poll found that people today, especially younger people, feel helpless when it comes to fighting climate change.

Here’s the thing: That’s exactly how polluting corporations want you to feel. The more people believe their actions don’t matter, the more they find themselves rolling over and accepting the status quo.

Yes, solving the climate crisis requires bold action from governments and corporations, but that doesn’t mean individuals have to sit on the sidelines. Not only do our actions add up and influence others, we also have the ability to push for — and demand — systemic change.

And that push, importantly, can help turn our individual feelings of hopelessness around. Psychologists and climate activists tell us we can go from feeling helpless or hopeless about the future and toward a more positive, productive attitude just by taking a few steps forward.

Done correctly, these steps we take can also create a momentum for the future. As scientist Katharine Hayhoe wrote last month: “If we wait for someone else to fix the problem, we’ll never solve it. But when we raise our voices to call for change, when we take action together — that’s when we find that hope is all around us.”

With that in mind, we’ve created a simple action plan for the next 30 days. They include small steps we can take to advocate for bigger societal changes — and in the process remind us that the power for change lies in ourselves, too.

Start at the Top:

    1. Submit a public comment on proposed federal rules or regulations. You can find opportunities to voice your support or concerns at regulations.gov. You might be surprised how few comments have already been submitted, or how much your voice might matter.
    2. Write to your senator to demand action on climate — either in general or about a specific legislative action. (Find your elected officials’ contact information here.)
    3. Write to your congressional representative with a similar request, perhaps one more tailored to your district. Remember, your voice as a voter counts 365 days a year, not just on Election Day.

Now Think Local:

    1. Write to your mayor or other community leader about how you see climate affecting your region and encourage them to take action.
    2. Write to your town parks manager and ask about their plans to keep green spaces open in the face of warming temperatures, wildfires and increased extreme storms.
    3. Attend your local planning board meeting and speak out about any projects you feel don’t pass environmental muster. You can’t stop runaway development without getting in front of the people who make the decisions about what goes where.
    4. Attend a school board meeting to support educators’ efforts to teach science (or, you know, to verify that they’re actually teaching it in the first place).

Next Up, the Corporations:

    1. Write to a major corporation or retailer to offer feedback about their business models — for example, overpackaging. Can’t find a public email address? Sometimes it pays to take photos and share them on social media.
    2. Take this a step further and sign on to support producer responsibility legislation.
    3. Now strike closer to home. Write to a top employer in your town or county to ask about their climate policies or request they adopt more sustainable business practices. (The more specific, the better; it shows you know and understand their business and their role in your shared community.)
    4. Ask your energy company about switching your account to renewable sources. The more customers who sign up to get their power from wind or solar, the better.
    5. Hit ‘em in their stock portfolios. If you or your town, company, church, pension plan or friends have any investments in fossil fuels, intentionally or otherwise, divesting is a great way to send a message that profiting on destruction is no longer socially or financially acceptable.

Focus on Your Neighborhood:

    1. Walk — or run! — around your neighborhood with a garbage bag or two to pick up trash and recyclables, then post what you find to social media. (This isn’t necessarily about shaming people; it’s a good way to show our effect on the environment.)
    2. Attend a larger cleanup day in your area. Connect with local activists and organizations while you’re at it. You’re going to need people to talk to about all of this, so build your community as you go along.
    3. Find a Little Free Library in your area and stock it with environmentally themed books. You never know who might find and read them. (Don’t have a Little Free Library near you? Talk to your local bricks-and-mortar library about setting up a display or webpage about their climate-related books and related materials.)
    4. Ask how you can help an environmental justice cause in your area. We can practically guarantee some neighborhoods in your community suffer higher environmental burdens than others (if you don’t know of any, one place to start your search is the Environmental Justice Atlas). Find out how you can support existing efforts or create awareness. Oh, and if you’re in an area affected by these burdens, it’s OK to ask for help.
    5. Attend a protest. Add your voice to a public event demanding action while meeting like-minded people. (Pro tip: Buy a reusable whiteboard instead of making new posters that will just end up in the trash.)

Game the Algorithms:

    1. Share positive news. Fight the incentive for social media to focus on the stories and disinformation that makes people angry and tears us apart. The Earth Optimism and Conservation Optimism accounts are good places to start.
    2. Follow a climate scientist on social media to amplify their voices. Check out Katharine Hayhoe’s “Scientists who do climate” list on Twitter for ideas (or just bookmark the whole list).
    3. Review a green product you like and write about the qualities that you find worthy of praise. In the online commerce world we live in now, products (and businesses) live or die by five-star reviews. (You can also give negative reviews to products you find egregious, or those whose marketing claims amount to little more than greenwashing.)
    4. Find climate-denying videos on YouTube (Tucker Carlson is a good start) and give them thumbs-down votes so fewer people get them in their recommendations. (Just don’t watch too long: That way lies madness.)

Keep Learning:

    1. Ask your friends about their favorite energy-saving techniques. Do this online and you might end up with a lot of interesting suggestions that everyone can learn from. As Texas State University environmental studies professor Tom Ptak wrote recently, “When enough individuals make changes that lower daily household energy consumption, huge emissions reductions can result.”
    2. Start or join an environmental book club so you’re up to date on the latest climate science or related issues (and can share with like-minded other readers). Here’s a list of recent books to get you started.
    3. Write to your local media — either a letter for publication about an issue, or just a friendly note to a local editor or reporter to praise their climate coverage. (You could also suggest they do more to cover it.)
    4. Donate or subscribe to environmental news. A thriving independent press serves as an essential watchdog against corporate malfeasance and government corruption.
    5. Set up a Google Alert for a topic you’re passionate about. It can be as simple as “climate change,” a topic like “sea-level rise,” or more specific like “climate” and the name of your town.
    6. Read up on a skeptic’s argument so you can debunk disinformation when you encounter it — which you will.

Think Longer Term:

    1. Sign up with a voter-registration effort in your area, or a voter-motivation effort through a national organization like the Environmental Voter Project — or make a plan to volunteer on Election Day. (You’re registered to vote, too, right?)
    2. Consider running for office or encouraging your friends to do so. The 2022 election is right around the corner, and too many races remain unopposed.
    3. Donate to an environmental nonprofit to support the ongoing fight. Every dollar helps. You time matters, too, so if you can’t afford to give, there’s probably a good way for you to donate your time by making phone calls, sharing petitions, stuffing envelopes, or doing something that matches your particular skillset.

Wait, This Month Has 31 Days!

    1. Take some time to reflect on the past month. What worked? What didn’t? What did you learn? What would you like to do again? What didn’t make it onto this list that you’d like to try? Another month looms around the corner, and the opportunities to make a difference are endless — even as the time to act grows shorter.

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Previously in The Revelator:

We Need Bold Protests, Says ‘Stop Shopping’ Activist Rev. Billy Talen

Behind the Science: How Do We Know How Many Shark Species Are at Risk?

A troubling new report finds that one third of sharks and their relatives are threatened with extinction. How did the international research team perform this analysis during the pandemic?

This September a team of dozens of scientists announced grim news: Around one third of the world’s 1,199 known sharks and related species, they assessed, are now threatened with extinction.

The startling message from members of the IUCN Shark Specialist Group, which published their results in the journal Current Biology, means that sharks and their relatives are much worse off than previously understood. The last global assessment of shark species, published in 2014, found 24% of species at risk.

The more complete — and more worrying — picture of the extinction risk for these species provides critical information for conservationists, scientists and policymakers, as well as the people who live and work near shark populations.

But getting there, especially during a pandemic, posed more than a few challenges.

Diverse Species and Diverse Threats Require Diverse Experts

Gathering the data needed to assess — and reassess — nearly 1,200 species required a staggering amount of work, involving 353 experts from more than 70 countries who met during 17 different week-long regional workshops stretching out over more than five years.

Before the pandemic hit, the core team racked up a ton of frequent flier miles. “We had to submit over 340 travel expense reimbursement claims,” says Nick Dulvy, a professor at Simon Fraser University and the lead author of new shark assessment.

Caribbean reef shark
An endangered Caribbean reef shark. Photo: Brian Gratwicke (CC BY 2.0)

Many workshops took place at academic institutions or hotel meeting rooms. One was held in the atrium of an aquarium — which seemed like a fun idea until school groups full of excited (and loud) children arrived.

After Covid-19 travel restrictions arrived, the process shifted online. That required everyone to work odd hours to accommodate job and home schedules for colleagues in all sorts of time zones.

The effort involved intense research: More than 20,000 cited sources informed the assessment.

But it wasn’t just science that made the work possible; organizers and participants also credit the model, which prioritized respect, diversity and inclusion, cooperation and trust.

Regional workshop organizers made sure to invite and include local experts, including at least one from each country being discussed. For example, 2017’s Arabian Seas and Adjacent Waters workshop included representatives from Somalia, Oman, India, the Maldives Sudan, Sri Lanka,  Pakistan, Iran and the UAE.

“Being able to understand what’s happening on the ground is important,” says Rima Jabado, lead scientist for the Elasmo Project and chair of the IUCN Shark Specialist Group. “A room full of Westerners can’t effectively talk about conservation problems in a country they’ve never been to, and conservation challenges can be difficult to interpret if you don’t know the local context. We made the choice to go to these countries, bringing people together, which was great not just for analyzing all this data, but for forming new collaborations and relationships.”

Ensuring gender equality of participants was also a priority for organizers, as was inviting a range of professionals.

“We don’t just invite academics, but also representatives from environmental nonprofits and government fisheries agencies,” says Dulvy. “We might have been able to get some of the information we needed via email, but we need to know what sharks are caught by what gear types where. People with real-time recent experience with the local system are much more helpful.”

sand tiger shark
Sand tiger shark. Photo: Greg McFall/NOAA

The inclusive model used serves in stark contrast to the problematic practice of “parachute science” or “colonial science,” in which researchers from wealthy countries visit field sites in the global south to collect data but don’t work with or help local experts.

That commitment to inclusivity garnered praise from outside experts.

“Building mutually respectful, equal partnerships that are beneficial to the location in question is absolutely key here,” says Asha de Vos, founder and executive director of the Sri Lanka-based conservation organization Oceanswell, who was not a part of this study. “If we’re making decisions about our common heritage, we need to be inclusive when moving those decisions. We need everyone at the table, and we need to empower the people on the ground.”

Prepping the People and Information

Getting the people together was one thing. Gathering, condensing and analyzing the data was another.

It started with a core team of Shark Specialist Group experts who attended multiple workshops and compiled all the data from the 1,199 species assessments. The core team served as authors of the summary paper, while many of the invited local experts became coauthors on the individual species assessments. Since these local experts came from a variety of fields with a variety of areas of expertise, everyone needed to complete IUCN Red List training in advance to understand how their data fit into the IUCN assessment scheme. Red List categories are complex, quantitative, and use very technical language, so it was important to make sure that everyone was using the same definitions of terms before, for example, deciding if the data showed that a species was critically endangered.

scalloped hammerhead shark
Scalloped hammerhead shark by Kris-Mikael Krister (CC BY 2.0)

The training also emphasized the need to come up with scientifically rigorous results.

“You need to come in here in an objective way and look at the data and be honest about what’s happening and not happening,” Jabado says. “The IUCN is very science-based, and we can’t assign a status to species [just] because it will give us funding or be a problem for managers.”

Once everyone was on the same page, the real work began. Prior to the workshops, participants prepared background briefings on local conditions and key species, along with summaries of new and relevant scientific literature for everyone to read. Determining the Red List status for each species required data on their distribution, their overlap with threats, their reproductive biology and, whenever possible, their population trends. (A common misconception is that a Red List assessment of “data deficient” means that scientists know nothing about the species and any random bit of new knowledge is helpful for their conservation, but really it only means we don’t have data on population trends over time.)

While the actual deliberations of Red List workshops are confidential, organizers told me that in general these workshops were where the data crunching and any associated discussions or deliberations occurred. And these discussions are where local expertise is critical — a Western scientist half a world away can read a spreadsheet emailed from Indonesia, but sometimes local experience provides key context and greater understanding. Local experts may also be aware of important data sources others may not have, such as fishing records or scientific papers published in non-English journals.

It’s also during these meetings that teams of experts get to know each other, sometimes resulting in long-term regional or global collaborations. Organizers told me that several research collaborations around the world began as conversations during coffee breaks at Red List workshops, a clear emergent benefit of this model.

After the workshops, when people went home (or logged off Zoom), the writeups for each species were finalized. When all assessments and reassessments were complete — for example, the new assessment that recategorized Caribbean reef sharks from “near-threatened” to “endangered” — the team began to write the summary paper.

That’s when they found the staggering and sad results that made headlines.

The Result: An Index of Loss and Hope

Each shark and related species, except for the handful of species discovered since 2014, received updated IUCN Red List conservation assessments as part of the process.

That helps determine conservation priorities for individual species, but the bigger picture of risk to entire categories of species — such as mammals, amphibians or corals — emerges from what’s known as a “Red List Index,” which shows how Red List assessments have changed over time. The summary paper determined a Red List Index for sharks for the first time and showed their collective decline on a par with other threatened species groups.

“Putting sharks on the Red List Index puts them in front of the eyes of policymakers,” says Dulvy.

He says this is particularly important, because previous Red List Indexes didn’t include any marine vertebrates.

Because of that, the existing indexes also didn’t document one of the major dangers facing species around the world. “What was missing from this picture was an indicator showing the biggest threat to the oceans: overfishing,” he says.

For sharks, overfishing poses a threat to 100% of at-risk species, and the sole threat to 67% of them. The rest face threats from overfishing combined with habitat loss, climate change and pollution.

Yemen sharks fish market
Sharks in a Yemen fish market. Photo: Rod Waddington (CC BY-SA 2.0)

All told, the new assessment identified population declines for multiple shark species — mostly due to overfishing — as well as three probable extinctions of species that haven’t been observed in more than 80 years.

That weighed heavily on the participants.

“Any one person might work on one species, and you know what’s happening and you think it’s bad, but you think maybe it’s just me,” Jabado says. “But when you sit in a room and hear the same story for so many other species, it’s depressing.”

While this global perspective of the impacts of overfishing on marine life is scary, at the same time, she adds, the process created some sense of hope.

“We can’t make progress unless we’re working together,” she says. “Conservation can be very depressing, but being in a room full of passionate, dedicated people is inspiring.”

Author’s note: Shiffman is a former postdoctoral research fellow in the Dulvy lab at Simon Fraser University and a current senior research advisor to the IUCN Red List’s Tuna and Billfish Specialist Group. He has never worked directly on IUCN Red List Shark Specialist Group research projects.

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Invasive Species Are Threatening Antarctica’s Fragile Ecosystems

Keeping Antarctica pristine is becoming more challenging with growing threats from human activity and climate change.

We tend to think Antarctica is isolated and far away — biologically speaking, this is true. But the continent is busier than you probably imagine, with many national programs and tourist operators crisscrossing the globe to get there.

And each vessel, each cargo item, and each person could be harboring non-native species, hitchhiking their way south. This threat to Antarctica’s fragile ecosystem is what our new evaluation, released Nov. 19, grapples with.

We mapped the last five years of planes and ships visiting the continent, illuminating for the first time the extent of travel across the hemispheres and the potential source locations for non-native species. We found that, luckily, while some have breached Antarctica, they generally have yet to get a stranglehold, leaving the continent still relatively pristine.

But Antarctica is getting busier, with new research stations, rebuilding and more tourism activities planned. Our challenge is to keep it pristine under this growing human activity and climate change threat.

Life Evolved in Isolation

Biodiversity-wise, much of the planet is mixed up. The scientific term is homogenization, where species, such as weeds, pests and diseases, from one place are transported elsewhere and establish. This means they begin to reproduce and influence the ecosystem, often to the detriment of the locals.

Most life in Antarctica is jammed onto tiny coastal ice-free fringes, and this is where most research stations, ships and people are.

This includes unique animals (think Adélie penguins, Weddell seals and snow petrels), mosses and lichens that harbor tiny invertebrates (such as mites, waterbears and springtails), and an array of microbes such as cyanobacteria. The adjacent coast and ocean team with life, too.

penguins on ice
Adelie penguins in Antarctica. Photo: Scott Ableman, (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)

The more we learn about them, the more outstanding life at the end of the planetary spectrum becomes. Just this month, new scientific discoveries identified that some Antarctic bacteria live on air, and make their own water using hydrogen as fuel.

When the Southern Ocean was formed some 30 million years ago, natural barriers were created with the rest of the world. This includes the Antarctic Circumpolar Current, the strongest ocean current on the planet, and its associated strong westerly surface winds, icy air and ocean temperatures.

This means life in Antarctica evolved in isolation, with flora and fauna that commonly exist nowhere else and can cope with frigid conditions. But the simplicity of Antarctica’s food webs can often mean there are gaps in the ecosystem that other species from around the world can fill.

In May 2014, for example, routine biosecurity surveillance detected non-native springtails (tiny insect-like invertebrates) in a hydroponic facility at an Australian Antarctic station.

This station, an ice-free oasis, previously lacked these interlopers, and they had the potential to alter the local fragile ecosystem permanently. Thankfully, a rapid and effective response successfully eradicated them.

Pressures from climate change are exacerbating the challenges of human activity on Antarctica, as climate change is bringing milder conditions to these wildlife-rich areas, both on land and sea.

As glaciers melt, new areas are exposed, which allows non-Antarctic species greater opportunity to establish and possibly outcompete locals for resources, such as nutrients and precious, ice-free space.

So Far, We’ve Been Lucky

Our past research focused on non-native propagules — things that propagate like microbes, viruses, seeds, spores, insects and pregnant rats — and how they entrain themselves into Antarctica.

They can be easily caught on people’s clothing and equipment, in fresh food, cargo and machinery. In fact, research from the last decade found that visitors who hadn’t cleaned their clothing and equipment carried on average nine seeds each.

But few non-native species have established in Antarctica, despite their best efforts.

To date, only 11 non-native invertebrate species — including springtails, mites, a midge and an earthworm — have established across a range of locations in the warmer parts of Antarctica, including Signy Island and the Antarctic Peninsula. In the marine realm, some non-native species have been seen but it’s thought none have survived and established.

Microbes are another matter. Each visitor to Antarctica carries millions of microbial passengers, and many of these microbes are left behind. Around most research stations, human gut microbes from sewage have mingled with native microbes, including exchanging antibiotic resistance genes.

Last year, for example, a rare harmful bacteria, pathogenic to both humans and birds, was detected in guano (poo) from both Adélie and gentoo penguin colonies at sites with high rates of human visitors. COVID-19 also made its way to Antarctica last December.

Both these cases risk so-called “reverse zoonosis”, where humans spread disease to local wildlife.

What Do We Do About It?

Three factors have helped maintain Antarctica’s near-pristine status: the physical isolation, cold conditions and co-operation between nations through the Antarctic Treaty. The Treaty is underpinned by the Environmental Protocol, which aims to prevent and respond to threats and pressures to the continent.

There is unanimous commitment from Antarctic Treaty nations towards preventing the establishment of non-native species. This includes adopting a science-based, non-native species manual, which provides guidance on how to prevent, monitor, and respond to introductions of non-native species.

But time is of the essence. We must better prepare for the inevitable arrival of more non-native species to prevent them from establishing, as we continue to break the barriers protecting Antarctica. One approach is to tailor the newly developed 3As approach to environmental management: Awareness of values, Anticipation of the pressures, Action to stem the pressures.

This means ramping up monitoring, taking note of predictions of what non-native species could sneak through biosecurity and establish under new conditions, and putting in place pre-determined response plans to act quickly when they do.

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

Species Spotlight: To Save the Narrow Sawfish, First We Must Find Them

The elusive fish, the world’s largest rays, find themselves among the most endangered marine fish in the world.

Sawfish are well known for their unique body parts called rostra: long, chainsaw-like nose extensions, which have a sixth sense. But that extra level of perception does little to protect them from human exploitation.

Species name:

Narrow sawfish (Anoxypristis cuspidata), also known as the pointed or knifetooth sawfish.

Description:

You can distinguish these medium-sized, gray sawfish from other species just by looking at their rostra, which lack the typical teeth along their quarter-length closest to the base. They grow to about 11 feet long and are known for their docile temperament — unless they’re cornered.

narrow sawfish
Narrow sawfish, 1878 illustration via Biodiversity Heritage Library

Where it’s found:

The species is distributed in Indo-Pacific marine waters and estuaries.

IUCN Red List status:

Endangered, with a population decline of 50-70% over three generations (approximately 18 years). It’s also listed in Appendix I of CITES, which bans international trade.

Major threats:

The toothed rostrum and the fact that these fish swim close to the sea floor make narrow sawfish extremely susceptible to fishing, especially the use of gill nets and demersal trawls. They’re often, if not always, caught as bycatch.

Notable conservation programs:

Narrow sawfish are nationally protected in Indonesia, but there are few conservation efforts directed at the species throughout its range.

My favorite (and worst) experience:

To save them, I must first find them. That’s the most basic mission for me and my team, and it’s not easy. It took three months in the field before we saw any — and when we finally did, it was seven dead juveniles in a single fisher’s catch in Merauke, Papua.

Sawfish
Photo: Sihar Aditia Silalahi (used with permission)

It was a jarring feeling, seeing my first real sawfishes in the wild but having them be dead. I experienced delight at the chance to finally hold them in my hands, but realized their existence hovers on the brink.

Previously in The Revelator:

Vanishing: Sawfishes Are Weird and Wonderful — But Important, Too

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The Win-Wins of Climate and Biodiversity Solutions

What’s better for plants and wildlife is better for the climate. But where do we start to accomplish the best results?

The climate is changing, and species are going extinct faster than any time since civilization began. The two crises are not independent. That’s good news — it means there are solutions that benefit both biodiversity and climate.

Nature is already our best defense against runaway increases of greenhouse gas emissions. Earth’s lands and waters currently absorb about 40% of the carbon dioxide human activity and natural processes release into the atmosphere. That can’t continue, though, without our oceans acidifying and plants reaching the limit of what they can absorb.

As an ecologist, I’ve spent nearly three decades working to conserve biodiversity within landscapes largely managed for food and goods production. Now, as special projects director at Project Drawdown, I study how climate solutions can benefit the planet’s biodiversity. Through all of this work, I’ve found that many climate-friendly initiatives also help with conservation. Although some solutions can come with costs or tradeoffs to plants and animals, what’s better for biodiversity is generally better for climate. That means protecting and restoring nature needs to be a critical part of an all-of-the-above set of solutions for reducing the total amount of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere.

Stopping or slowing habitat loss, for example, is good for biodiversity and the climate. Plants absorb carbon dioxide from the air to grow, and a portion of that carbon is stored in plants and soil. Habitat loss releases the carbon stored in soil and plants, so it’s a major source of emissions. Tropical deforestation alone, mostly to clear land for agriculture, accounts for 10% of global greenhouse gas emissions. If deforestation were a country, it would be the third biggest greenhouse gas emitter, trailing only China and the United States.

log pile
Photo: Martyn Fletcher (CC BY 2.0)

Climate solutions can also enhance nature’s role as a carbon sink — its ability to store carbon. A complex habitat structure supports more species and stores more carbon at a greater rate. Protecting, restoring and enhancing biodiversity on managed lands all enhance sinks.

In other words, protecting natural habitat both reduces production of greenhouse gases and boosts nature’s ability to sock them away.

But with so many ecosystems under threat, and the climate crisis getting worse by the day, where do we start?

Protect What’s Left

To achieve the most benefits for both biodiversity and the climate, we must start by protecting the Earth’s remaining intact ecosystems.

Protecting all remaining habitat is, of course, important, but destroying intact areas disproportionately affects species loss compared to further destroying fragmented areas. And clearing and degrading intact areas is also a double whammy for climate. The existing carbon stock is emitted and the habitat’s ability to act as a sink is lost.

It’s like the gift that keeps on giving — except it keeps on taking away.

mountain lion
A mountain lion caught on a trail cam at Headwaters Forest Reserve. Photo: Bureau of Land Management.

And the impact compounds over time — when you include the foregone sequestration, the carbon impact over a decade of clearing tropical forest can be six times higher than the immediate emissions alone.

Intact areas have more carbon in the vegetation and soils and a higher species diversity than degraded areas. Intact areas are also better carbon sinks. They store carbon at a faster rate than degraded areas. For example, nearly a fifth of the world’s forests are legally protected, yet they store more than a quarter of the carbon accumulated across all forests every year.

But protection is not on pace with loss. Forest protected areas almost doubled from 1992 to 2015, from 16.6 to 32.7 thousand square miles. During that same time, nearly 200,000 square miles were deforested. If you had a gap like this between savings and withdrawals in your bank account, you would — and should — be very, very worried. We need to accelerate the rate of designating new protected areas.

Protected areas need not be parks. In fact, many of them shouldn’t be parks. Indigenous communities play an essential role in protecting biodiversity and reducing the threat of climate change around the world. Areas managed by Indigenous people are commonly more intact than neighboring private and public lands. Securing land and water rights for Indigenous communities is not just good for nature. It helps protect identity and sovereignty.

Restore What We Can

So what about habitats that have been altered by human activity? They’re still important. Restoring disturbed lands and waters to a natural state boosts their ability to conserve biodiversity and increases their potential to suck carbon from the atmosphere and store it in vegetation and soils.

Restorations generally have lower species diversity and a simpler structure than intact ecosystems and are not as effective at storing carbon. However, they’re an essential part of recovering ecosystems where only small fragments remain, such as the grasslands of North America, Brazil’s Atlantic Forest, Mediterranean forests and scrublands in North America, Europe, and Africa, and dry forests of Asia.

grassland
Volunteers collect seeds for grassland restoration. Photo: BLM Wyoming.

Unfortunately, the list of endangered ecosystems is much longer than those few examples.

Restorations also are less beneficial than protecting intact land from a climate perspective, since carbon accumulates slowly over decades or hundreds of years. And we can’t assume that today’s acorns will become tomorrow’s oak trees — or, if they do, that those trees will escape harvest, natural disasters or pest outbreaks long enough to serve as meaningful carbon sinks or legitimate sources of carbon offset credits.

Enhance Biodiversity on Working Lands

Of course, not all lands can remain natural. We need space for farms, wood production, roads, homes and businesses. Croplands and rangelands cover 38% of all land on Earth. Forests cover about another third of the land, of which 60% is managed for timber and other forest products. That means about 58% of all ice-free land is used to produce food and forest products.

Several climate solutions that can be implemented on agricultural lands, such as agroforestry and managed pastures, also benefit biodiversity. Although these solutions may provide smaller benefits at the scale of a farm field or forest stand, a little bit of change everywhere can add up to a lot of carbon stored and locally provide species diversity, habitat structure, and ecosystem function. Ocean-based solutions exist too, and researchers are learning more about how they benefit both biodiversity and climate.

Targeting Actions

Each ton of carbon is equally important. The potential avoided emissions and carbon stored for several solutions are summarized in two key publications, The Drawdown Review and Natural Climate Solutions.

For biodiversity, some land, water and coastlines are more important than others. How much land and water do we need to protect biodiversity? Truth is, we don’t really know. But very basic rules are true: More is better, bigger is better, more connected is better, and more geographically and climatologically diverse is better.

Initiatives like the Global Safety Net lay out a roadmap for conserving biodiversity, maintaining highly productive agricultural lands, and stabilizing climate by protecting or managing 50% of all ice-free land on Earth. Other efforts have identified critical areas (or frameworks) for protecting marine and freshwater biodiversity.

(Potentially Huge) Bonus Points

Several other climate solutions can indirectly benefit biodiversity. For example, shifting to plant-based diets, reducing food waste, and sustainably intensifying food production on smallholder farms all reduce the need to expand agricultural lands, the biggest cause of habitat loss and degradation.

When these solutions are implemented, agriculture’s land footprint would not only stop expanding — it could shrink. The land used for grazing or growing animal feed could instead be used to restore ecosystems or to produce fiber and fuel.

Big or Small, It Takes All

We need all efforts, big and small, to solve the biodiversity and climate crises.

Yes, we need a concerted effort among governments, companies and investors for transformational change. But individual efforts, from managing a small fish farm in a mangrove forest to protecting tiny prairie remnants, matter too. Small changes accumulate and help shift the social norm of what we expect from our neighbors, CEOs and presidents.

An all-in, all-of-the-above approach is essential. All we need are the incentive and motivation to start.

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

Previously in The Revelator:

5 Ways Climate Change Will Affect Plants and Animals

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Humans and Jaguars Can Live Together — Here’s How

More than 25 years of experience illustrate how to live successfully in a landscape with jaguars, just as they’re starting to return to the United States.

Humans and jaguars can coexist, even in areas where livestock is a priority.

As a biologist, I’ve spent the past 25 years working on issues related to jaguar conservation in South and Central America. I’ve seen how people and big cats can share the same land, to the benefit of both species.

Now that jaguars (Panthera onca) have started returning to the United States, with three documented big cats since 2015, the same thing can happen here.

It seems there are a lot of “what if” concerns about living with jaguars in the United States — questions that stem, in many ways, from one important fact: Jaguars have been gone from the American landscape for so long that we’ve forgotten they were ever here.

In fact, we have solid evidence of jaguars all around areas like central New Mexico, the Gila Wilderness complex, the rugged Mogollon rim in Arizona and the adjacent forests. Not that many records, but enough, and trustworthy examples.

Mogollon Rim
Mogollon Rim. Photo: Deborah Lee Soltesz/U.S. Forest Service

Perhaps the historical record seems thin. The late 1800s were turbulent in this region, with severe collisions between European descendant settlers and Native Americans. The wild areas in the jaguars’ mountain ranges were not a place for naïve naturalists to be traipsing around observing tracks and taking notes.

Despite that, there are strong, reliable records from the 1800s through the mid-1900s.

Of course, the fact that most of the historical records are of dead jaguars does a lot to explain why the cats disappeared from the region so quickly.

Jaguars occurred — without a doubt — in Southern California, as far north as central Arizona and New Mexico and in southern Texas. I bet they sometimes used the riparian forests that lace rivers in the southern prairies. They were here.

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

And they weren’t just transient visitors, either. Jaguar reproduction has been documented as far north as the south rim of the Grand Canyon, roughly 250 miles north of Mexico, at altitudes of 7,000 feet. Pregnant female jaguars don’t wander hundreds of miles. Generally, they hunker down in the best habitat they can find. When they give birth, their range is miniscule, as the cubs need tending. Gradually, as their cubs mature, the mothers’ range expands to a “normal” adult female range, which is never as large as male jaguar ranges. Pregnant female jaguars are residents.

To me, debating whether this area was historical jaguar range is obfuscation. Why not take pride that such a magnificent beast graced our Southwest and acknowledge the cultural and fauna exterminations that occurred, contributing to the jaguar’s extinction in the area?

A Century of Eradication

When Lewis and Clark’s Corps of Discovery crossed the West from 1804 to 1806, that northern country was vast and relatively “wild.” By 1880, just eight decades later, the original human inhabitants of almost the entire West had been reduced drastically in number and lifestyle and forced into reservations. The bison were nearly extinct, rescued in Yellowstone and the Flathead Valley. Grizzlies were occupying far less ground than previously. Their highest densities had been in California’s Central Valley (good soils can grow grizzlies or artichokes and avocados). Fortunately, grizzlies had a few sanctuaries, notably in Yellowstone and Glacier national parks.

During the same period, the jaguars of the Southwest faced similar persecution but had no equivalent areas or options for refuge. The U.S. government offered bounty payments for dead jaguars, one of the major factors in the disappearance of the species from the northern portion of its range. Following such vigorous expansion and eradication campaigns, jaguars eventually disappeared from the American landscape and psyche.

Coexistence Is Possible and Being Practiced Farther South

One of the points of greatest resistance to jaguars recovering in their former U.S. range, I’ve detected, is a perception among some that livestock production and jaguar conservation are incompatible.

By looking across the 50 degrees latitude farther south where jaguars presently occur, we can see coexistence in practice, with notable examples of success.

I formally got into the jaguar/prey/habitat conservation business in 1996 — 25 years ago. The study area for my dissertation was an 80,000-hectare working cattle ranch and wildlife refuge, with about 10,000 head of cattle and wild populations of peccaries, capybara, deer, tapir, anacondas and caimans — and jaguar and puma. I lived on that ranch for three years, and we evaluated the factors that contributed to conflicts between cattle and big cats.

Roughly 10 years later, ecologist Wlodzimierz Jedrzejewski and his team assessed the jaguar population and found approximately 4 per 100 square kilometers (38 square miles) — a robust population and a metric of coexistence success.

Note that densities of about 2 jaguars may be more “normal.” Generally, this species covers the landscape thinly, using large territories. Male home ranges may run roughly between 100 and 1,000 square kilometers (38-380 square miles), with the most common being between 250 and 450 square kilometers (96-174 square miles). Female ranges average 50 to 200 square kilometers (19-77 square miles).

Pantanal Jaguar (Panthera onca)

So why were jaguars in that ranch and refuge so successful?

First, the region retained some large forest blocks with no livestock. The ratio of forests to savannas and pastures was roughly 50:50.

Second, the ranch maintained tight control of the livestock, moving herds seasonally, controlling reproductive seasons and calving locations, and defending vulnerable calves.

Third, the region retained adequate levels of native prey as a readily available alternative to domestic livestock.

That’s something I’ve learned in the past quarter century: To reduce the frequency and severity of jaguar attacks on livestock — and improve human-jaguar coexistence — it’s important that the jaguars never learn to take livestock in the first place. It’s not a natural food for them.

Another lesson: Jaguars prefer forested areas. They use open areas, but usually with reticence and in moderation. Carnivore researcher Ronaldo Morato and his colleagues evaluated radio locations of 40 telemetered jaguars across five biomes and found jaguars selected forests with more than 58% forest cover.

Gran Chaco Jaguar Conservation Unit
A scene in the Gran Chaco Jaguar Conservation Unit, Bolivia. Photo: John Polisar

That can vary, as can the character of what constitutes forest. Jaguars occupy scrubby semi-xeric Chaco, flooded forests (Varzea) in the Amazon, humid forests in the Amazon, Guianas, and Central America and even pass-through areas of over 9,800 feet in elevation in cloud forest in various places.

To me there’s an important take-home message from all of these habitats: Cows, pigs or sheep should not graze free in forest. Simple and economical methods that exclude domestic livestock from prey-rich “natural” habitats can go a long way toward reducing attack incidents.

Enhancing Coexistence

What else can we do to help predators, people and livestock live in harmony?

Many ranches have employed measures to deter or reduce attacks, and in some cases, studies have shown them to be both efficient and cost-effective.

A 2016 study focused on six medium- to large-sized ranches in the dry forests of the Paraguayan Chaco, an area not unlike the southwestern United States. There, biologist Laura Villalba and her team identified pastures that had experienced high levels of livestock predation and introduced combinations of six methods to reduce the incidence of attacks: solar-powered blinking LED lights, electric fences, keeping cattle at greater distances from forest, secure locations at night, concentration of birthing seasons, and reduced hunting of natural prey by humans. The livestock losses dropped to zero. The value of cattle saved was far more than what was invested in antipredation techniques — sometimes as much as 15 times higher.

In 2021, Antonio De la Torre and his team published a similar study with 11 smaller-scale livestock operations in the Selva Lacandona rainforest of southern Mexico. They found that the investment in electric fences generated returns more than 13 times the cost in economic value. Other methods were also evaluated, with results showing as much as 26 times the economic benefit compared to the costs.

Fence
Polisar and foreman examine a fence. Estancia Los Ceibos, Paraguayan Chaco.

In both Paraguay and Mexico, jaguars survived while calves were saved. Investments were required, but those investments delivered economic and conservation returns.

Even where electric fences are challenging to install and maintain, other, lower tech solutions can help reduce attacks. De la Torre’s team also measured changes in livestock productivity, which saw increases due to tighter management. In both studies, researchers and farmers or ranchers worked together closely to find solutions.

Those are just two better quantified examples of the impacts of anti-depredation techniques. In fact, there’s practically a cottage industry of tools and strategies within occupied jaguar range, including but not limited to:

    • Using protective night corrals for young, vulnerable livestock.
    • Distributing water sources to avoid carnivore and livestock overlap, keep cattle out of forests and influence distribution of prey — ideally natural prey and livestock would use different water sources.
    • Fencing cattle out of forest blocks and even placing fences back from forest edges.
    • Controlling the timing and location of calving and protecting maternity pastures.
    • Switching large, experienced animals into “problem pastures,” where they can defend smaller animals from predators.
    • Using predation-resistant races of livestock.
    • Carefully disposing of cadavers and dead livestock.
    • And in general, tightening up the husbandry and management of the livestock through better veterinary processes and nutrition, which leads to improved production, profits and fewer overall losses.

These methods work. Recently Fabricio Diaz Santos and I concluded a Darwin DEFRA-funded project with 100 farmers in the very remote Mosquitia region of Mesoamerica, with the goal of balancing economic and environmental priorities in these very small livestock operations and an eye towards forest conservation. In Nicaragua, livestock production and family incomes increased, forests recovered, and predation losses to jaguars dropped to zero due to tighter cattle management (including health, nutrition, and separation from forests).

Another study, led by Skarleth Chinchilla in an adjacent region of the Honduran Mosquitia, included 50 farmers and concluded that tighter herd management — night corrals, veterinary care and protection of vulnerable calves — would solve a substantial portion of livestock losses, not all of which are attributable to large cats. In fact, in Skarleth’s area and in many others, challenges such as diseases, accidents and cattle thefts are much more substantial causes of losses, all of which may be reduced by tighter herd management.

Most of this isn’t new. Progress on these techniques started as early as 1982 with Edgardo Mondolfi and Rafael Hoogesteijn’s Notes on the Biology and Status of Jaguars in Venezuela and ignited in 1992 with Howard Quigley and Peter Crawshaw’s Conservation Plan for the Jaguar Panthera onca in Brazil.

Moving Forward

We have over a quarter century of work on human-jaguar coexistence. I’m not going to say that achieving coexistence is easy, but it’s definitely possible. There are numerous examples to draw upon from diverse ecological and management contexts in the species’ range. There’s even a massive 2016 volume, produced by Instituto Humboldt of Colombia, titled Conflicts Between Cats and People in Latin America that summarizes the knowledge to date.

jaguar
A jaguar in Mexico. Photo: Tony Hisgett (CC BY 2.0)

There are tools for human-jaguar coexistence.

When I work in the southwestern U.S. jaguar arena, the species’ proven historic range, I sometimes wonder what all the “fuss” and even what the opposition to real recovery is about.

Coexistence is possible. I’ve lived it and seen it, and so have my colleagues.

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

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Previously in The Revelator:

Can Saving Jaguars Sustain Local Economies?

Protecting Jaguars Across Borders

“We Roam With Jaguars” — 5 Questions With Wildlife Artist Racheal Rios

To Save a Seabird, Scientists Must Restore Balance to an Island Ecosystem

On the Farallon Islands, invasive mice and hungry owls are a deadly combination that threatens the endangered ashy storm petrel.

Thirty miles off the coast of San Francisco, scientists on the Farallon Islands are planning a conservation project they hope will halt the worrying decline of an endangered bird called the ashy storm petrel (Hydrobates homochroa).

About 5,000 of these swallow-sized seabirds — half of the species’ total population — breed on the rocky chain of islands that make up Farallon Islands National Wildlife Refuge. But their numbers there have steadily declined since the early 2000s.

ashy storm petrel
An ashy storm petrel.
Photo by Ilana Nimz/PRBO Conservation Science, courtesy U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Southwest Region

Researchers know why. The refuge has a mouse problem.

But solving the problem is complicated. Invasive house mice (Mus musculus), it turns out, don’t directly harm the storm petrels. Instead these rodents are a tempting food source for migrating burrowing owls (Athene cunicularia), who spend part of the year on the islands.

And that’s where things go wrong for the storm petrels. Every year a few owls, rather than continuing south along their traditional migratory path, choose to spend the winter on the island, eating not just mice but storm petrels, too.

burrowing owl
A burrowing owl on the Farallons. Photo courtesy Point Blue Conservation Science

To save the petrels, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has proposed a one-time application of rodenticide to rid the island of the mice. Officials believe that without this plentiful rodent food source, migrating burrowing owls will have little reason to stay on the islands, leaving storm petrels to nest in peace.

The plan — which faces opposition from some local animal-rights groups — will need approval from the California Coastal Commission, the state agency charged with regulating projects and development along the state’s coast. The plan could receive that go-ahead before the end of the year, allowing the project to start next year.

Pete Warzybok is the Farallon program leader for Point Blue Conservation Science, the nonprofit that has collaborated with the Service for over 50 years on research and projects on the islands.

“This is an opportunity to have a real, lasting conservation impact,” Warzybok says. “It will be, quite frankly, one of the greatest conservation achievements that we’ve been able to do.”

Restoration efforts on the Farallon Islands have been ongoing since their designation as a National Wildlife Refuge in 1968. While it’s difficult to know exactly what the islands looked like before 19th century seal hunters arrived with stowaway mice aboard their ships, researchers know the owls’ increased presence is new and poorly timed.

When the owls arrive in autumn during their southern migration, the rodent population is at its peak and can reach a staggering 490 mice per acre, a number rarely documented anywhere else. With so many scurrying about, it’s no wonder that the owls are encouraged to stay and take advantage of the plentiful food source.

House mouse
A house mouse on the Farallon Islands. Photo © Oscar Johnson via iNaturalist (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0)

But during winter, inclement weather and a lack of plants and insects cause the mice population to crash — just in time for the petrels’ return to the islands to breed after months at sea. With few mice and plentiful storm petrels, the owls switch from eating mice to eating the seabirds.

 

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This phenomenon is called hyperpredation, and many islands around the world have suffered its effects. A famous example took place on Santa Cruz Island, where feral pigs were introduced in the 1850s and began attracting golden eagles. But the eagles started eating the endemic island foxes, whose numbers quickly plummeted. The removal of the pigs in 2005, combined with fox reintroduction, allowed the island fox population to recover.

Scientists know the owls are a major threat to storm petrels thanks to a convenient, if gruesome, fact. The owls usually pluck off the petrels’ wings, which they’re not interested in eating. This allows researchers on the island to conduct “wing walks,” looking for disembodied wings.

A 2019 study published in Ecosphere used wing walks to determine that the owls can kill up to 100 storm petrels every year. But dangerous terrain leaves parts of the islands inaccessible, and the true number of petrels eaten by owls is likely much higher than surveys reveal.

While 100 storm petrel deaths may not seem like many, scientists say it has been enough to drive the population decline. Ashy storm petrels take up to eight years to mature and begin breeding; they only lay one egg at a time and don’t always breed every year. Compounded with a small global population, their slow reproduction leaves them susceptible to the added pressure from the owls.

Researchers have modeled possible scenarios for ashy storm petrels if mice were completely eradicated, the results of which suggest that even slightly fewer owls could mean the difference between the ashy storm petrel’s continued decline or a stable population. We already know the birds fare better and experience lower declines on years when fewer owls visit the islands.

While eradicating one species to change the behavior of a second that’s affecting a third may sound both controversial and tricky, scientists can point to success stories on a few other islands. On Allen Cay in the Bahamas, invasive house mice enticed barn owls to stick around, but the owls soon added sensitive Audubon’s shearwaters to the menu. Since the mice on the island were eradicated, the number of owl-caused shearwater deaths has dropped.

Successful rodent removals have been conducted on hundreds of islands around the world, many with the use of rodenticides. Most of these cases experienced rapid changes in the ecosystems as populations of flora and fauna returned to healthy levels.

With these success stories in mind, biologists on the Farallon Islands say they’re confident that mice eradication will be a long-term solution to the hyperpredation problem.

“These ashy storm petrels are really rare birds, and they’re really sensitive,” says Gerry McChesney, the Farallon Islands National Wildlife Refuge manager. “So, does it matter whether it’s a direct impact or indirect impact? I don’t think it does. The fact is that they [mice] are impacting the ecosystem.”

Opponents have expressed concerns that the poison will affect more than mice and say they would rather see a plan to reduce mice numbers without rodenticide or to relocate the burrowing owls to the mainland. But scientists are looking for a long-term solution and say sustainable mice reduction and owl relocation would require continual effort year after year.

And while the owls are the main threat to ashy storm petrels, McChesney’s concerns extend beyond the fate of the seabirds. As a manager, he must act on behalf of all the native species that call the islands home.

The Farallon camel cricket (Farallonophilus cavernicolus) exists nowhere else in the world and is falling prey to both the mice and the owls. The crickets are also food for the Farallon arboreal salamander (Aneidis lugubris farallonensis), now forced to compete with mice and owls for food. Unique native vegetation on the island has also taken a direct hit from the mice.

Removing mice from the islands may yield immediate benefits for plants, but it could take many years for ashy storm petrels to recover. For McChesney, the islands will never be fully restored until all the mice are gone.

“We have a very special place, the Farallon Islands,” McChesney says. “It’s an actual jewel of the Pacific … and it’s an ecosystem that’s out of balance.”

Previously in The Revelator:

Penguin vs. Rabbit: Native Island Wildlife Needs More Than Luck When Invasive Species Take Over

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Kids and Climate Change: New Book Exposes Why Some Schools Fail to Teach the Science

In Miseducation, investigative journalist Katie Worth reveals big inequities in climate education and a gap that mirrors state politics.

Sad. Afraid. Anxious. That’s how most young people, aged 16-25, said climate change made them feel when surveyed for a study in Nature. The researchers interviewed 10,000 youths in 10 countries and revealed a growing “climate anxiety” among the respondents.the ask

That shouldn’t come as a surprise. Another recent study found children born in 2020 could face seven times more climate disasters than those born in 1960.

Climate change is likely to color every part of young people’s lives — from the jobs they hold to where they call home. And yet, despite the rise and importance of young climate activists, climate change isn’t even being taught in many U.S. schools.

Perhaps worse, some teachers are providing misleading, outdated or false information. That’s what journalist Katie Worth found when researching her new book, Miseducation: How Climate Change Is Taught in America. Sometimes, she learned, teachers don’t have the right training or resources to teach climate change. But often, the roots of the problem are much more troubling.

“Fossil fuel lobbyists, flaccid text-book companies, networks of free-marketeers and evangelical leaders, and the American political machine have each had a role in the widespread, calamitous, and in some cases, intentional miseducation of American children,” she writes in the book.

We spoke with Worth about why so many American kids aren’t getting a climate education, how to counter the inequities, and where she sees progress.book cover

How did the idea for this book come about?

When I was a reporter for “Frontline” we got a grant to do a climate story and we went to the Marshall Islands to interview kids there about their future. Because of climate change, their homeland may not be inhabitable at some point this century.

It was really striking to us how knowledgeable the kids were about climate change. They could speak very fluently about the phenomenon and were much more articulate than most of the adults I know here.

One of the kids that we wound up featuring in our interactive documentary was this 9-year-old named Izerman whose family was thinking about moving to Oklahoma because they had some extended family there. The parents thought maybe the education would be better in Oklahoma than in the Marshall Islands. So the question came up, if these kids moved to someplace like Oklahoma, what would they learn about climate change in school?

And the answer, we found out, is basically nothing. At least that’s how it’s been, although Oklahoma just updated their academic standards to include a little bit of climate education in middle school.

When you dug into this issue further, what did you find about the rest of the country? 

Education is by nature a very diverse enterprise in this country. There’s no national curriculum and we have 3 million teachers educating 50 million children enrolled in 100,000 public schools. Each of those teachers is teaching based on the state standards, but also based on their expertise and their style. State academic standards guide what a kid should know at the end of a particular grade or subject, but how they get there is very much up to the district or the teacher.

When it comes to what academic standards say about climate change, there’s a pretty clear red-blue divide when we compare academic standards to a [political] map of the country based on state legislatures, which are the ones that are in charge of state’s academic standards.

The Texas Freedom Network and the National Center for Science Education teamed up on this research and graded each state’s academic standards based on how well they taught climate change.

They found that no blue state got less than a B plus, and there were a few red states that got B pluses or even As, but the majority of red states did considerably worse. And several red states got Fs. [Editor’s note: Check climategrades.org to see how your state compares.]

Also to my knowledge, there has been one robust study of what teachers teach about climate change. And in that, one third teach it like it’s a debate: “Some scientists think this, and others think that, and what do you think?” And another one third self-reported that they tell their students that many scientists think that climate change might be natural. That’s one third of science teachers! Of course, what’s so wrong is that zero scientists actually think that. It’s just patently false information that’s being told to millions of students a year.

Another issue is textbooks that are adopted by each state or school district also vary. Some textbooks say things like, “While many scientists think that global warming is human caused, some believe that it’s natural.” And another one of my favorites says, “Climate change will have some positive effects and some less positive effects.” They couldn’t even bring themselves to say negative effects.

There are more modern textbooks that are much less equivocal about it. As you might imagine, blue states are adopting these newer and more accurate textbooks, while a lot of the red states aren’t. That also reinforces this red-blue divide.

So, what you come to is an equity issue. Depending on what state you’re in, you might learn something about the phenomenon that will totally define the century you’re born into, or you might not.

How does this information, or misinformation, in school align with what kids are hearing outside the classroom or actually experiencing in their lives?

Katie Worth. Photo: Courtesy

Of course the most important people in a kid’s life are their parents or their guardians, right? So if their parents or guardians think climate change is a hoax — and I met many kids who told me that — then they are very motivated to think that too, especially when they’re young.

I grew up in the town of Chico, which is in Northern California, 14 miles from Paradise, which burned down in the 2018 Camp fire. I attended a seventh-grade science class of Paradise Intermediate School for a few weeks the year of the fire. The school had been displaced because the whole town burned down, so they moved to Chico into the only real estate that was available, a shuttered big-box hardware store.

The teacher was teaching a unit on climate change, which of course scientists say is contributing to growing wildfires in California and the West, including the Camp fire. He was teaching these kids about climate change and some of the kids were hearing at home that it was a hoax. That was something that the teacher had to navigate.

So, depending on the forces in their lives, these kids may be more credulous or incredulous about it. But regardless, it’s still important that they’re exposed to the information and maybe down the road, if they’re exposed to more and more information that eventually helps them understand the world as it is.

It also goes both ways. There was a recent study that looked at kids who went through a unit on climate change and the effects on what their family thought about climate change. And they found that families where the kids had been educated about climate change in school were more likely to become concerned about the climate crisis afterward. So there was this intergenerational effect where kids were feeding concern about the climate crisis to their parents or guardians.

What can we do to help ensure kids — regardless of their state’s politics — get a good climate education?

Teachers need to be trained in this stuff, too. A lot of teachers didn’t learn about climate change themselves in school because it wasn’t taught until recently. Fortunately, there are a lot of resources for professional development and also lesson plans. Some of this has been amassed on a one-stop portal.

Climate doubt also didn’t arise in classrooms by accident or spontaneously. It arose because there was a long climate-doubt campaign perpetuated mainly by fossil fuel companies and their allies. A doubtful public is a public that will hesitate to take action, right? So, if you’re not 100% sure if there’s a threat then you’re not likely to agree to new taxes or making major changes to the economy. The fossil fuel industry wants to keep seeding this doubt, and there’s been an effort to get that doubt into schools, too, [with fossil fuel-funded education programs, curricula, field trips and other materials] because kids become the deciders of tomorrow.

And that’s just going to provide more time for the fossil fuel industry to extract oil from the ground and reap profits. If doubt and inaction reign for another 30 years, that’s a matter of trillions of dollars for the fossil fuel industry and also a huge catastrophe for our planet and the living things on it, including us.

What do you see that’s encouraging?

Hope isn’t my area of specialty, but I do think that education is powerful. And I don’t mean to minimize this: There are tons of teachers out there who are intrepid and — no matter what their state academic standards are, or the politics of their school districts — they’re working really hard to make sure that kids are armed with the correct information about the world and what it’s facing.

There’s other encouraging news. Washington, for example, has a project where they are giving professional development about climate change to every science teacher in the state. And some other teachers as well. New Jersey just adopted academic standards that include climate change in not just science, but in civics, history, English and other subjects. Then there’s activists like Greta Thunberg and a lot of youth leadership.

We know that Gen Z is much more likely to be worried about the climate emergency we’re facing than any of their elders. And they’re not buying the doubt and the apathy as much as older generations have. They’ve been really crucial in driving action and in pointing the camera at this issue.

Schools aren’t the only place that they’re encountering this issue, there’s a lot of opportunity for them to learn about it elsewhere. But they should have the right to learn about it in their public education, no matter where they live.

I hope that people who read the book or learn about this issue who have kids in their lives inquire about what they’re learning in school about climate change.

Here’s another example: There was an earth science textbook where the kind of “rocks for jocks” version of the class — the general education science class — hardly includes anything about climate change and even questions whether it was even happening. But the advanced version of this same book spent a ton of time on climate change.

So the implication is that the “academically successful” kids who have the resources to take advanced classes have the opportunity to learn about this issue that may shape all their future decisions, but not other kids.

That’s not how it should be. You would want the lowest common denominator to be everybody getting some good education about this issue and not just the wealthy, white, ambitious kids.

So I think asking your kids’ schools what they’re teaching about this and who they are teaching is important. It’s worth putting a bit of community pressure on schools and districts to make sure that they’re educating all their kids.

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