World Water Day 2021: What does water mean to the Cabot community?

 

It’s World Water Day (22 March) and we have joined the global public campaign on the theme for 2021 of valuing water. The campaign is designed to generate a worldwide conversation about how different people in different contexts value water for all its uses.
So we asked researchers, students and staff at the Cabot Institute for the Environment, what does water mean to you? Whether it is something learnt through research, personal experiences or simply what you think when you think of water, we asked our community for stories, thoughts, and feelings about water!
All responses including ours and many others across the world will be compiled by UN-Water to create a comprehensive understanding of how water is valued and to help safeguard this resource in a way that will benefit us all.
Cabot Institute for the Environment researchers and students are doing lots of wonderful and important work to deliver the evidence base and solutions to protect water (find out more). Here is what some of them shared with us for World Water Day #Water2me.

What does water mean to you?

“Water is the most special substance on Earth. Everyone has a relationship with it. It is ubiquitous yet still enigmatic. As a hydrologist I have been working for years to better understand where it goes after it rains. As a person who grew up in semi-arid Cyprus, I know that water scarcity can shape a culture as much as it shapes the landscape. As a person who has been living in the UK, I know that too much water can also shape a culture. Too little or too much – water is both a life giver and a life taker. It is everywhere, nowhere, hidden, precious, ever changing, elusive, wondrous, yet taken for granted.   Dr Katerina Michaelides, Co-lead of Cabot Institute for the Environment water theme 

 

“Liquid water can take any shape of its recipient. As water vapor, it becomes invisible and travels into the air… but it is still there. As ice and it can sometimes provide a hard surface. Water reminds me of adaptation and opportunities. We face a global challenge in ensuring water to all living beings on Earth, but the nature of water tells me that we must adapt to any changes coming in future years and turn challenges into opportunities to develop more sustainable and earth-friendly measures to tackle our societal needs.” – Dr Rafael Rosolem, Co-lead of Cabot Institute for the Environment water theme 

 

 

“Water is the essence of life and its tiny moving molecules connect almost everything on Earth – bodies of water in rivers, glaciers, oceans, atmospheres are connected to our bodies as humans. What happens in one body trickles down and impacts others, so we have to be careful with how we manage this vast cycle of water, and of life.” – Professor Jemma Wadham, Director of Cabot Institute for the Environment 

 

“When you grow up in a country, where 2/3 is a desert with 1 hour of water supply per 48 hours (mainly at 2am!), water is more precious than oil and sometimes gold.” – Dr Hind Saidani-Scott, Cabot Institute for the Environment researcher 
“Simply put, water means health, safety, and life 💧 Without clean water, access to this becomes limited, whereas with it – we can thrive 🌍” – Olivia Reddy, University of Bristol PhD candidate and member of Cabot Institute for the Environment ‘Cabot Communicators’ group.

 

As a kid to me water meant fun, it sparked feelings of joy and excitement for swimming in the ocean and having a good time. While water remained a magical thing to me, as I grew older, I began to consider its role as a global resource, its precarity, need for protection and how lucky I was to have access to it. Now as I undertake my research at Cabot, I am learning more about the spirituality and sacrality of water amongst indigenous cultures, not only as a “resource” but at as point for worship, ceremony, and community and something to learn from. Today I understand water as part of us as well as our world” – Lois Barton, post-graduate researcher, Global Environmental Challenges, Cabot Institute for the Environment       

 

 
“The first thing I would have said when asked to think about water two years ago is a refreshing glassful from the tap. But watching the film Cowspiracy and following this up with my own research into animal agriculture has made me look at water differently. Now, I think of water in terms of cows. 2,500 gallons of water are needed to produce one pound of beef. Animal agriculture is responsible for up to 33% of freshwater usage globally! For me, a new understanding of water and water-use was a key factor in prompting the decision to change to a plant-based diet and advocate that others do the same for the good of the planet and the people who do not have water on tap like I do every day. – Lucy Morris, post-graduate researcher, Global Environmental Challenges, Cabot Institute for the Environment

Hidden Water: Valuing water we cannot see 

Cabot Institute for the Environment is also hosting a public event for World Water Day (17:15 GMT, 22 March 2021) which is bringing together two leading researchers to discuss the value of ‘hidden water’ resources: groundwater and glaciers. 
 
Dr Debra Perrone, University of California, will discuss her research which revealed millions of groundwater wells and strategies to protect them. Professor Jemma Wadham, Cabot Institute for the Environment, will discuss the impacts of glacier retreat in the Peruvian Andes and solutions to adapt to these changes. Chaired by Cabot Institute for the Environment water experts, Dr Katerina Michaelides and Dr Rafael Rosolem. More information here

Join the discussion

What does water mean to you? Tag @cabotinstitute and #WorldWater #Water2me on Twitter to let us know.

——————————
 

 

This blog is written by Adele Hulin, Cabot Institute Coordinator at the University of Bristol, and Lois Barton, Cabot Institute for the Environment MScR student and temporary communications assistant at the Institute.
Adele Hulin
Adele Hulin

Why I’m mapping the carbon stored in regrowing Amazonian forests

As we navigate our way out of the global medical pandemic, many are calling for a “green economic recovery”. This green recovery should be at the forefront of many discussions as world leaders, policy makers, scientists and organisations are preparing for the 26th Conference of the Parties (COP26) due to take place in November this year in Glasgow, UK. This conference will once again try to unite the world to help tackle the next and even larger global emergency, the Climate Emergency.

In recent years, the conversations around the Climate Emergency have increased dramatically with many individuals, groups, companies and governments aiming to tackle this emergency, in part, through replanting, restoring and reforesting large areas of land.

But what if we let forests regrow back naturally? How much carbon can they absorb from the atmosphere? 

As part of my PhD research at the University of Bristol, I have been looking at naturally regrowing forests in the Brazilian Amazon rainforest. These forests are known as “Secondary forests” and regrow on land that has previously been deforested and used for agricultural or other purposes and has since been abandoned, allowing the natural vegetation to return.

Figure 1: Secondary Forest in the Tapajos region of the Brazillian Amazon (credit Ricardo Dalagnol)

Secondary Forests in the Brazilian Amazon are expected to play a key role in achieving the goals of the Paris Agreement. They have a large climate mitigation potential, given their ability to absorb carbon up to 11 times faster than old-growth forests. However, the regrowth of these secondary forests is not uniform across the Amazon and is influenced by regional and local-scale environmental drivers and human disturbances like fires and repeated deforestations.

I worked with numerous scientists from Brazil and the UK to determine the impact of different drivers on the regrowth rates of the secondary forests, using a combination of satellite data. The key datasets we needed were:

What we did

We combined the satellite data maps and overlayed them to extract information on the carbon stored in relation to the forest age to model the regrowth rate with increasing age. We overlayed the information of key environmental drivers and human disturbances to see if and how these factors impact the regrowth rates.

What we found out

Overall, we found that the environmental conditions in Western Amazon enable secondary forests to regrow faster. Here the land received lots of rainfall and does not experience much drought. In the eastern parts of the Amazon, where the climate is drier and experiences more drought, the regrowth rates were up to 60% lower.

Figure 2: Schematic summary of the main results from the paper, highlighting the spatial patterns of regrowth dependent on both climate and human disturbances. The map in the middle shows the regions of secondary forest in the Brazillian Amazon and the four panels correspond to these regions.

In addition to this, we found that the regrowth rates were reduced even further by as much as 80% in eastern regions if the forests were subject to human activities like burning and repeated deforestations before the land was finally abandoned.

What it all means

Our results show the importance of protecting and expanding secondary forest areas to help us meet the Paris Agreement Targets. Our regrowth models can be used to help determine the contribution of current and future regrowing forests in the Brazilian Amazon in a spatial manner.

We found that in 2017, the secondary forests in the Brazilian Amazon stored about 294 Terragrams Carbon aboveground (that excludes carbon stored in roots and soils). However, this number is equivalent to about 0.25% of the carbon that is already stored in Amazon’s old-growth forests. Limiting carbon emissions through deforestation and degradation through burning of old-growth forests is therefore extremely important to help tackle the Climate Emergency.

We calculated that the annual carbon absorbed by the present secondary forest area in the Amazon is enough to contribute to about 5% of Brazil’s pledged contribution to the Paris Agreement by 2030. This number may seem small, but the area covered by the Amazonian secondary forests is currently equivalent to less than 2% of the whole of Brazil. If the area of secondary forest were to be expanded this would bring with it numerous co-benefits such as generating income to landowners and re-establishing ecosystem services.

In December 2020, many countries submitted updates to their so-called Nationally Determined Contributions (NDC), a country’s individual contributions to the Paris Agreement, this included Brazil. However, Brazil’s updated NDC no longer includes a clear position on reforestation, restoration and eliminating illegal deforestation.

At a time when we have all seen and felt the impacts of a true global emergency such as the COVID-19 pandemic, it becomes easier to imagine the potential impacts of climate change if left at the back of politician’s agendas. In the run up to COP26 it is now more important than ever to raise, not lower ambitions as we continue to tackle the global Climate Emergency.

You can read the full paper and download the data here: https://rdcu.be/cg4um.

——————————-

This blog is written by Cabot Institute member Viola Heinrich, School of Geographical Sciences, University of Bristol.

Viola Heinrich

Journey to the heart of academic research

Many believe that keeping feelings, emotions, individualities and identities out of the field, the lab and the experiment is the golden rule that guarantees the validity of scientific work. From this perspective, good science requires neutrality and objectivity.
I’m not so sure, and today I want to share stories about the feelings and emotions I have lived with BIOsmart, a project where British, Colombian, Chilean, Irish and Spanish citizens work together, and tell you about how my emotions have made me reflect on what we may mean by good science.
María Paula delighted with her walking stick, lovingly crafted by one of our drivers.

 

I’ll start by saying that I am both Colombian and British. I have lived in the UK for 20 years now and when I have brought the UK team to do fieldwork in Colombia, I have felt pride and joy in having them taste our ajiaco, arepas, empanadas and aguardiente, and feast on the bounty of colours, textures and tastes of our fruit markets. I have felt pride too because my fellow Colombians always greet us with our traditional warmth and cheeky humour and this has put a finger on my nostalgia as an immigrant; for this warmth, the easiness with which we smile and become best friends in a matter of minutes, are what I most dearly miss when I am in England. But this nostalgia is mixed with gratitude, for the academic system in the UK has allowed me to return to Colombia and work for people I love. My identity matters and is at the heart of the passion and commitment with which I work.
These feelings are replenished at every farm visit we make. Coffee, freshly squeezed lemonade, home-made juices and yogurts, even hot chocolate made with home-grown cocoa beans are always waiting for us. We reciprocate this generosity and always arrive with fresh bread from the bakeries and meal by meal we learn about farmers’ lives in Caquetá and they learn about our own lives in the UK. This learning happens outside the lab, before we start counting plants and insects and before we begin the formal interview. This learning, and the feelings of respect, solidarity and gratitude that come with it, is inconspicuous in the data that will go into papers and presentations; but without it, our research practice would be less meaningful for all involved. This learning, imbued with emotions, is what gives real meaning to our work and I feel pride in the British team too, for I have seen them care about the farmers and our Colombian partners as much as I do. This shows in the friendships they have built and the character with which they work.  They have spent time with farmers’ children, they have kept in touch with farmers, drivers and colleagues. It shows too when we get up at the crack of dawn because we want to be as hard-working as the farmers and the Colombian team of scientists who are already waiting for us: we don’t want to be late and mess up their day. Good science cares, so we are out in the cars by six in the morning. I was moved by how this caring goes both ways. My aging body and my city lifestyle makes it tricky for me to walk in this hilly and boggy terrain. The drivers have become part of the team too and, one of them surprised me one day with a gift. He had chosen a branch from a guava tree, peeled it and polished it and crafted a beautiful walking stick that I have with me.
The farmers always showed us great hospitality, we even enjoyed hot chocolate made with homegrown cacao beans. Photo: María Paula.
But there have been other kinds of emotions too. Too often, farmers apologise for their lack of formal education and tell us how this makes them feel ignorant and inferior. This has made me feel angry, for I know this lack of formal education and this sense of inferiority are the result of a political, economic, social and cultural system, of global dimensions, that neglects and despises peasants. On every occasion I tell farmers that their level of formal education does not reflect their worth and I tell them how they are knowledgeable in ways that humble us. I strive for our conversations to return to them the dignity they are owed. This has made me think about objectivity and neutrality. If being objective is the commitment to understand what the real problem is and good science is about caring, then I don’t want to be neutral. I have wanted to spend more time with them and contribute beyond the knowledge we are all creating.
Enjoying some downtime in Florencia. Teamwork is at the heart of BioSmart.
Sometimes, these contributions have been real and immediate. After we finished the interview and we had become instant friends in the way Colombians do, a farmer told me they had come to the village that day not only to see me, but also to sell some chickens. They would have preferred to keep them for longer because then they would have sold for a better price. But they were short of money to pay the electricity bill and the only option was to sell the chickens. However, what they got was not enough and now, they did not have the chickens or the money to pay the bill. Chickens are income and food and electricity is essential. I gave them some of my own money. Some might think my gesture creates a culture of assistencialism, that what I ought to do is help them be more productive so they can improve their income and not have money problems. Perhaps, more cynical views would even question their story. I didn’t and even though my work is meant to help alleviate poverty in the long term, I felt I wanted to help there and then. Was I right to do so? I feel I was.
María Paula conducting an interview with a farmer in Caquetá, Colombia.

 

This questioning of neutrality has been fuelled by other emotions too. For example, one morning, I felt deep sorrow and broke into a deluge of tears as I listened to a woman deliver an improvised fifteen-minute speech. Standing tall by the porch of her house, she wanted to know if we were visiting the farm on behalf of the oil and mining companies. She told us how their presence makes her fear for the future of her children and despair for the effects that extractive projects are having on the land she grew up in. She also told us how some project implementers, not all, have discriminated her and refused to sign her up to agri-environmental initiatives because she is a woman. We were all moved by her courage and her eloquence, including her husband and her children. What a brave mother and wife you have, I told them. As we said goodbye, we had a long and tight hug and again, I felt that I need and I want to do more.
Sometimes this feeling comes with urgency. At the time of writing, my heart is worried about a man who is thinking that selling his land, the most pristine of all the farms I visited, is his only option because he is in debt.  The only way to earn a living is to have cows but he does not want to have cows: he would much rather look after the forest, but this does not provide him with a living. “Help me find a buyer”, he says, “but someone who cares for the forest just as I have”.
I feel rage for the injustices these people live in. I cannot and I don’t want to be neutral. I feel conflicted and wonder if I need to worry, for I am pondering how to be at once the researcher and the activist, the University employee and the solidarity campaigner. I want to help and, as I ponder how, I feel that what we mean by good science might be better practised from this place where my emotions and my research meet. I want to think my feelings and emotions articulate a goodness where impact is not only what comes at the end of the project, often in the shape of outputs or closure activities, but what touches and nurtures the lives of all involved from the beginning.
I want to think good science involves acknowledging emotions to the point of writing publicly about them. Vulnerability may be challenging, but embracing it enriches you as a person and as researcher: after all, one cannot be extricated from the other.
————————
This blog is by Cabot Institute member Dr María Paula Escobar-Tello. She is the Principal Investigator on the BioSmart project and leads the cultural geographical components. This blog has been reposted with kind permission from María Paula. View the original blog. View the blog in Spanish.
Visit the BioSmartAmazonia website https://www.biosmartamazonia.org/
María Paula Escobar-Tello