Burnt. Smoky. Medicinal. Each of these represents a subcategory of “peaty” whisky in the Scotch Whisky Research Institute’s brightly coloured flavour wheel.
A more chemistry-focused flavour wheel might include names like lignin phenols, aromatic hydrocarbons or nitrogen-containing heterocycles. Perhaps less appealing, but these chemicals define the flavours of Scotch whisky and represent just a few of the many types of organic carbon that are stored in peatlands.
However, when peat is burned for the production of whisky, ancient carbon is released into the atmosphere. Approximately 80% of Scotch whisky is made using peat as a fuel source for drying barley during the malting process. The aromas of the burning peat, or “reek” as it is known in the industry, are steeped into the grains providing the intense smoky flavours associated with many Scotch whiskies.
Historically, peat was a critical fuel resource for Scotland – a nation famously rich in peatlands with few trees for wood-burning. But as the industry has modernised, peat burning in whisky manufacturing has become less a story of adapting to resource limitations and more one of tradition and distinctive flavouring.
There is little debate about the importance of peat burning in generating some of the most highly sought-after flavours in the world of whisky. Some enthusiasts identifying as “peat heads” track the parts per million (ppm) of peaty compounds in their favourite brands. The ppm measure represents phenol concentrations (a group of aromatic organic compounds) in the malted barley. But this does not represent how peaty your whisky will taste as much will get lost in subsequent processes. Nor does the ppm represent how much peat was burned in production.
Most of the peat that is extracted in Scotland is used in horticulture as compost to grow things like mushrooms, lettuce and houseplants. However, both the Scottish and UK governments are making efforts to reduce peat extraction for gardening needs.
The Scotch whisky industry makes up about 1% of total peat use in Scotland. But, as horticulture practices change, this may represent a larger portion of peat use in the future.
In 2023, the Scotch whisky industry outlined a long-term sustainability plan that expresses goodwill but lacks clearly defined goals towards peatland restoration.
Such policies that ban or limit the use of peat in certain industries have followed an increased awareness of how important peatlands are to locking carbon away instead of releasing it into our atmosphere. Despite making up only about 3% of Earth’s land surfaces, peatlands store more carbon than all the world’s forests.
So, should you worry about the climate consequences of peat use in Scotch whisky?
No matter how you slice it, harvesting peat is not good for the environment – and getting your hands on a nice dry slab of peat to extract those smoky flavours is no easy task. Peat is formed by waterlogged, oxygen-poor conditions that slow the natural breakdown process of plant material.
While it is critical for healthy peatlands, excess water is not ideal for burning or transporting peat. Hence, peat extraction usually involves the extensive draining of peatlands. This halts the natural peat accumulation process and releases greenhouse gases from the now-degraded peats into the atmosphere.
Some recovery efforts are being made, and it has been suggested that the whisky industry can offset their peat degradation by investing in peat restoration. But, peatland restoration is a long-term and imprecise solution that might take decades to properly assess, while existing peatlands are needed as a natural carbon sink now.
Flavour innovations
There are reasons for “peat heads” (both whisky fans and climate warriors) to feel optimistic about the future of this industry.
For decades, the barley malting industry has focused on extracting the most flavour out of the least peat. Innovations in enhanced peat burning efficiency and investigations into peat flavouring alternatives are just some of the ways that the whisky industry is decreasing its peat footprint.
Change in this sector takes time. Any innovations in whisky made today must age for at least three years before being ready for the “flavour wheel”. This delay underscores the urgency of developing new methods as it will take time to find the perfect eco-friendly recipe that compromises neither the taste nor tradition of Scotch whisky.
In the meantime, whisky drinkers can seek out distilleries that are taking active steps to decrease their environmental impact and try drinking peat-free or peat-efficient whiskies.
To continue celebrating the uniqueness of peat as a flavour in whisky, we need to better acknowledge the effect it has on peatland degradation and continue to advocate for positive changes in the industry.
The story of peat use in Scotch whisky will continue to evolve. But while experimenting with future flavours, Scotland must preserve one of this nation’s most precious environmental resources.
For centuries, people have claimed that their aching joints can predict changes in the weather, often reporting increased discomfort before rain or cold fronts. Given the scale and duration, there is a sense of legitimacy to these anecdotes – but this phenomenon remains scientifically contentious.
From shifts in barometric pressure to temperature fluctuations, many theories attempt to explain how environmental factors might influence joint pain. But is there an anatomical basis for this claim, or is it simply an enduring weather-related myth? Are our joints any more reliable than the Met Office?
At the heart of this debate lies barometric pressure, also known as atmospheric pressure – the force exerted by air molecules in the Earth’s atmosphere. While invisible, air has mass, and the “weight” pressing down on us fluctuates with altitude and weather systems.
Higher barometric pressure often signals fair-weather conditions with clear skies and calm winds, whereas lower pressure typically precedes unsettled weather, such as cloudy skies, precipitation and humidity.
Moveable joints are intricate structures cushioned by synovial fluid, the viscous liquid that lubricates joints, and encased in capsules rich in nerve endings. In healthy joints, these components should allow smooth, pain-free movement. However, when joints are compromised by cartilage damage (as in osteoarthritis) or inflammation (as in rheumatoid arthritis), even subtle changes in the environment may be acutely felt.
One leading hypothesis suggests that changes in barometric pressure may directly influence joint discomfort. When atmospheric pressure drops ahead of storms, it can allow inflamed tissues within joints to expand slightly, increasing stress on surrounding nerves and amplifying pain. Conversely, rapid increases in pressure, characteristic of fair-weather systems, may compress already sensitive tissues, leading to discomfort in some people.
Scientific studies offer some support for these claims, though results remain mixed. For instance, a 2007 study published in the American Journal of Medicine found a slight but significant correlation between dropping barometric pressure and increased knee pain in osteoarthritis patients. However, this pattern is not universally observed across all joint conditions.
A 2011 systematic review in Arthritis Research & Therapy examined the relationship between weather and pain in rheumatoid arthritis patients. It revealed highly variable responses: while some people reported increased pain under low-pressure conditions, others noted no change. A few even experienced discomfort during high-pressure fronts.
More recently, a [2019 citizen-science project] called Cloudy with a chance of pain used app-based pain tracking to explore this connection. The study found a modest association between falling pressure and heightened joint pain, but it also highlighted substantial individual differences in how people perceive weather-related pain.
These findings suggest that while changes in barometric pressure may influence joint pain for some, responses are far from uniform and depend on a complex interplay of factors, including the individual’s underlying joint condition and overall pain sensitivity.
Why responses differ
Barometric pressure rarely acts in isolation. Fluctuations in temperature and humidity often accompany pressure changes, complicating the picture.
Cold weather can have a pronounced effect on joints, particularly in people with existing joint conditions. Low temperatures cause muscles to contract and become stiffer, which can lead to reduced flexibility and a greater risk of strain or discomfort.
Ligaments, which connect bones to one another, and tendons, which anchor muscles to bones, may also lose some of their elasticity in colder conditions. This decreased pliability can make joint movement feel more restricted and exacerbate pain in conditions like arthritis.
Cold weather can also cause blood vessels to narrow — particularly in the extremities, as the body prioritises maintaining core temperature. This reduced blood flow can deprive affected areas of essential oxygen and nutrients, slowing the removal of metabolic waste products like lactic acid, which may accumulate in tissues and exacerbate inflammation and discomfort.
For people with inflammatory conditions, the reduced circulation can aggravate swelling and stiffness, especially in small joints like those in the fingers and toes.
Cold also slows the activity of synovial fluid. In lower temperatures, the fluid becomes less effective at reducing friction, which can heighten joint stiffness and make motion more painful, particularly for people with degenerative conditions such as osteoarthritis.
Sudden temperature changes may also play a role. Rapid shifts can challenge the body’s ability to adapt, which might worsen pain in people with chronic conditions. Similarly, high humidity can intensify sensations of heat or dampness in already inflamed areas, further complicating the experience of pain.
However, isolating a single variable – whether humidity, temperature or pressure –proves difficult because of the interplay of overlapping factors.
Responses to weather also depend on individual factors, including the extent of joint damage, overall pain sensitivity and psychological expectations. This variability makes it difficult to link a single meteorological factor to a biological response.
Still, the evidence suggests that people with joint conditions tend to be more attuned to environmental changes, particularly pressure fluctuations.
While the relationship between weather and joint pain remains an imperfect science, the collective evidence indicates that there may be some truth to the age-old belief. For those with chronic joint conditions, shifts in barometric pressure and accompanying weather changes might indeed serve as nature’s warning system – albeit one that’s far from foolproof.
Forever chemical or PFAS contamination is widespread, but so too are lobbying efforts. Melnikov Dmitriy/Shutterstock
A team of academic researchers, lawyers and journalists from 16 European countries has exposed a huge lobbying campaign aimed at gutting a proposed EU-wide restriction on the use of “forever chemicals”. This campaign saw significant increases in the lobbying expenditure of major producers of perfluoroalkyl and polyfluoroalkyl substances (PFAS), known as forever chemicals for their persistence in the environment.
This expenditure supported many high-level meetings with European Commission officials, as well as efforts to mobilise other industry players in the lobbying campaign to promote voluntary alternatives and substantial exceptions to this proposed restriction. One result was that the European Chemical Agency’s public consultation on the restriction was buried under a deluge of responses to its proposal.
PFAS are a family of thousands of synthetic chemicals that are implicated in a growing number of illnesses and health complications – ranging from liver damage to compromised immune systems. They share a common characteristic: a carbon-fluorine bond – one of the strongest in organic chemistry – which makes PFAS highly persistent, meaning they can bioaccumulate within plants and animals over time.
The sheer number of PFAS means that restricting them as a class, as is being considered by the EU, is regarded as vital by a growing number of scientists . If this proposed restriction fails and PFAS emissions remain unrestricted, the cost of cleaning up ongoing contamination in Europe is estimated to run to €2 trillion (£1.7 trillion) over the next 20 years – an annual bill of €100 billion.
Without a class restriction, the alternative is a case-by-case approach to assessing toxicity. This would not only be very slow, it would increase the risk of just swapping banned PFAS for other ones that haven’t yet been proven to cause harm – known as “regrettable substitution”.
Historically, banning individual PFAS chemicals has led to their replacement with structurally similar compounds that pose similar or unknown risks. A class-based restriction would reduce the likelihood of such substitutions.
As part of a Europe-wide investigation into PFAS called the Forever Lobbying Project, I have been collaborating with 18 academic researchers and lawyers plus 46 investigative journalists, including Stéphane Horel and Raphaëlle Aubert at French newspaper Le Monde, which coordinated the project. By working together, we can reach a much larger audience across Europe and increase awareness of the costs of PFAS to public health and the environment.
Revelations of the major lobbying campaign and the clean-up costs – the first estimate of its kind for Europe – have come out of this collaboration. Our work has been an inventive combination of investigative journalism and social and applied science methodologies, which aim to extend and underpin existing reporting techniques.
A new investigation drew on approaches used to measure lobbies in the fossil fuel and tobacco industry. Ian Hayhurst/Shutterstock
But resistance from chemical manufacturers quickly proved to be fierce. And it was the realisation among journalists within the consortium that the chemical industry might defeat the proposed class-based restriction that kickstarted the idea for this latest investigation into the lobbying campaign.
The cost of policy failure
Two questions are central to making sense of the lobbying campaign for the public. What would the bill be for cleaning up ongoing PFAS pollution if the campaign is successful? And how had the PFAS manufacturers and plastics industry been able to make so much headway with European officials?
The annual cost estimate of €100 billion was one of several calculated – it relates to ongoing clean-up costs in Europe in the absence of effective restrictions and source control. The process of calculating the costs was overseen by environmental engineer Ali Ling and environmental chemist Hans Peter Arp, who developed a methodology with data journalist Aubert. Together, they advised journalists within the team on which data to look for and actively checked datasets.
The annual cost figure is large – roughly the GDP of Bulgaria – yet represents a conservative estimate, reflecting the difficulties in addressing PFAS decontamination. PFAS chemicals escape most traditional remediation techniques and require highly specialised, energy-intensive technologies to eradicate them. This annual cost will continue as long as PFAS are not phased out and continue to accumulate in the environment.
The lobbying campaign essentially rested on three contentions: that most PFAS were not harmful to health so there was no need for a broad restriction; that there were few practical alternatives to PFAS; and that a broad restriction on their manufacture and use would effectively hollow out the European economy, killing the European green transition.
If the chemical industry were being taken seriously by EU officials, EU policymakers would be more likely to be persuaded by these arguments. So, our consortium decided to look at them more closely and “stress-test” them.
To do this, the team – organised by Horel – adapted approaches used to explore the validity of industry arguments used in tobacco and food policy conflicts. Our results are telling.
Interview with American lawyer Rob Billott, a legal advisor for the Forever Lobbying Project.
Plastics Europe arguably had implied that the concept of polymers of low concern encapsulated criteria developed by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD). To the casual observer, this association with a respected international policy organisation gave it a measure of validity.
So, we traced the origins of the concept. Yes, there had been an OECD expert group which had “engaged in discussions on criteria for identifying polymers of low concern” between 1993 and 2009. But there had never been enough reliable data for the OECD to commit to the idea as an institution. The OECD confirmed to Horel that “no agreed-upon set of criteria at the OECD level was finalised”.
Other arguments we stress-tested exhibited different weaknesses, but they typically worked to the same effect. Facts and observations were twisted and exaggerated to present a lose-lose or “dystopian” characterisation of the EU proposals – terrible economic losses globally, with no appreciable health or environmental benefits.
As things stand, the EU restriction is finely balanced. Officials within the European Commission have been reported to be “offering reassuring indications to corporate interests about future decision-making”.
By raising important questions about the consequences of not regulating, and highlighting the dubious arguments put forward to justify doing nothing, we hope our latest investigation has shifted the language and focus of public debate. But whether this will displace the current short-termist emphasis on competitiveness and deregulation being pushed by some members of the European Commission remains to be seen.
The Arctic has warmed nearly four times faster than the global average since 1979. Svalbard, an archipelago near the northeast coast of Greenland, is at the frontline of this climate change, warming up to seven times faster than the rest of the world.
More than half of Svalbard is covered by glaciers. If they were to completely melt tomorrow, the global sea level would rise by 1.7cm. Although this won’t happen overnight, glaciers in the Arctic are highly sensitive to even slight temperature increases.
To better understand glaciers in Svalbard and beyond, we used an AI model to analyse millions of satellite images from Svalbard over the past four decades. Our research is now published in Nature Communications, and shows these glaciers are shrinking faster than ever, in line with global warming.
Specifically, we looked at glaciers that drain directly into the ocean, what are known as “marine-terminating glaciers”. Most of Svalbard’s glaciers fit this category. They act as an ecological pump in the fjords they flow into by transferring nutrient-rich seawater to the ocean surface and can even change patterns of ocean circulation.
Where these glaciers meet the sea, they mainly lose mass through iceberg calving, a process in which large chunks of ice detach from the glacier and fall into the ocean. Understanding this process is key to accurately predicting future glacier mass loss, because calving can result in faster ice flow within the glacier and ultimately into the sea.
Svalbard (in red) belongs to Norway and is one of the northernmost places int he world. Peter Hermes Furian / shutterstock
Despite its importance, understanding the glacier calving process has been a longstanding challenge in glaciology, as this process is difficult to observe, let alone accurately model. However, we can use the past to help us understand the future.
AI replaces painstaking human labour
When mapping the glacier calving front – the boundary between ice and ocean – traditionally human researchers painstakingly look through satellite imagery and make digital records. This process is highly labour-intensive, inefficient and particularly unreproducible as different people can spot different things even in the same satellite image. Given the number of satellite images available nowadays, we may not have the human resources to map every region for every year.
A novel way to tackle this problem is by using automated methods like artificial intelligence (AI), which can quickly identify glacier patterns across large areas. This is what we did in our new study, using AI to analyse millions of satellite images of 149 marine-terminating glaciers taken between 1985 and 2023. This meant we could examine the glacier retreats at unprecedented scale and scope.
Svalbard is slightly smaller than Scotland yet has more than 2,000 glaciers. RUBEN M RAMOS / shutterstock
Insights from 1985 to today
We found that the vast majority (91%) of marine-terminating glaciers across Svalbard have been shrinking significantly. We discovered a loss of more than 800km² of glacier since 1985, larger than the area of New York City, and equivalent to an annual loss of 24km² a year, almost twice the size of Heathrow airport in London.
The biggest spike was detected in 2016, when the calving rates doubled in response to periods of extreme warming. That year, Svalbard also had its wettest summer and autumn since 1955, including a record 42mm of rain in a single day in October. This was accompanied by unusually warm and ice-free seas.
How ocean warming triggers glacier calving
In addition to the long-term retreat, these glaciers also retreat in the summer and advance again in winter, often by several hundred metres. This can be greater than the changes from year to year.
We found that 62% of the glaciers in Svalbard experience these seasonal cycles. While this phenomenon is well documented across Greenland, it had previously only been observed for a handful of glaciers in Svalbard, primarily through manual digitisation.
Svalbard’s many glaciers grow and shrink with the seasons. Wildnerdpix / shutterstock
We then compared these seasonal changes with seasonal variations in air and ocean temperature. We found that as the ocean warmed up in spring, the glacier retreated almost immediately. This was a nice demonstration of something scientists had long suspected: the seasonal ebbs and flows of these glaciers are caused by changes in ocean temperatures.
A global threat
Svalbard experiences frequent climate extremes due to its unique location in the Arctic yet close to the warm Atlantic water. Our findings indicate that marine-terminating glaciers are highly sensitive to climate extremes and the biggest retreat rates have occurred in recent years.
This same type of glaciers can be found across the Arctic and, in particular, around Greenland, the largest ice mass in the northern hemisphere. What happens to glaciers in Svalbard is likely to be repeated elsewhere.
If the current climate warming trend continues, these glaciers will retreat more rapidly, the sea level will rise, and millions of people in coastal areas worldwide will be endangered.
Climate and environmental protest is being criminalised and repressed around the world. The criminalisation of such protest has received a lot of attention in certain countries, including the UK and Australia. But there have not been any attempts to capture the global trend – until now.
We recently published a report, with three University of Bristol colleagues, which shows this repression is indeed a global trend – and that it is becoming more difficult around the world to stand up for climate justice.
This criminalisation and repression spans the global north and south, and includes more and less democratic countries. It does, however, take different forms.
Our report distinguishes between climate and environmental protest. The latter are campaigns against specific environmentally destructive projects – most commonly oil and gas extraction and pipelines, deforestation, dam building and mining. They take place all around the world.
Climate protests are aimed at mitigating climate change by decreasing carbon emissions, and tend to make bigger policy or political demands (“cut global emissions now” rather than “don’t build this power plant”). They often take place in urban areas and are more common in the global north.
Four ways to repress activism
The intensifying criminalisation and repression is taking four main forms.
1. Anti-protest laws are introduced
Anti-protest laws may give the police more powers to stop protest, introduce new criminal offences, increase sentence lengths for existing offences, or give policy impunity when harming protesters. In the 14 countries we looked at, we found 22 such pieces of legislation introduced since 2019.
2. Protest is criminalised through prosecution and courts
This can mean using laws against climate and environmental activists that were designed to be used against terrorism or organised crime. In Germany, members of Letzte Generation (Last Generation), a direct action group in the mould of Just Stop Oil, were charged in May 2024 with “forming a criminal organisation”. This section of the law is typically used against mafia organisations and had never been applied to a non-violent group.
Criminalising protest can also mean lowering the threshold for prosecution, preventing climate activists from mentioning climate change in court, and changing other court processes to make guilty verdicts more likely. Another example is injunctions that can be taken out by corporations against activists who protest against them.
3. Harsher policing
This stretches from stopping and searching to surveillance, arrests, violence, infiltration and threatening activists. The policing of activists is carried out not just by state actors like police and armed forces, but also private actors including private security, organised crime and corporations.
In Germany, regional police have been accused of collaborating with an energy giant (and its private fire brigade) to evict coal mine protesters, while private security was used extensively in policing anti-mining activists in Peru.
4. Killings and disappearances
Lastly, in the most extreme cases, environmental activists are murdered. This is an extension of the trend for harsher policing, as it typically follows threats by the same range of actors. We used data from the NGO Global Witness to show this is increasingly common in countries including Brazil, Philippines, Peru and India. In Brazil, most murders are carried out by organised crime groups while in Peru, it is the police force.
Protests are increasing
To look more closely at the global picture of climate and environmental protest – and the repression of it – we used the Armed Conflicts Location Event database. This showed us that climate protests increased dramatically in 2018-2019 and have not declined since. They make up on average about 4% of all protest in the 81 countries that had more than 1,000 protests recorded in the 2012-2023 period:
Climate protests increased sharply in the late 2010s in the 14 countries studied. (Data is smoothed over five months; number of protests is per country per month.) Berglund et al; Data: ACLED, CC BY-SA
This second graph shows that environmental protest has increased more gradually:
Environmental protests in the same 14 countries. Data: ACLED, CC BY-SA
We used this data to see what kind of repression activists face. By looking for keywords in the reporting of protest events, we found that on average 3% of climate and environmental protests face police violence, and 6.3% involve arrests. But behind these averages are large differences in the nature of protest and its policing.
A combination of the presence of protest groups like Extinction Rebellion, who often actively seek arrests, and police forces that are more likely to make arrests, mean countries such as Australia and the UK have very high levels of arrest. Some 20% of Australian climate and environmental protests involve arrests, against 17% in the UK – with the highest in the world being Canada on 27%.
Meanwhile, police violence is high in countries such as Peru (6.5%) and Uganda (4.4%). France stands out as a European country with relatively high levels of police violence (3.2%) and low levels of arrests (also 3.2%).
In summary, while criminalisation and repression does not look the same across the world, there are remarkable similarities. It is increasing in a lot of countries, it involves both state and corporate actors, and it takes many forms.
This repression is taking place in a context where states are not taking adequate action on climate change. By criminalising activists, states depoliticise them. This conceals the fact these activists are ultimately right about the state of the climate and environment – and the lack of positive government action in these areas.
Cyclone Chido was an “intense tropical cyclone”, equivalent to a category 4 hurricane in the Atlantic. It made landfall in Mayotte, a small island lying to the north-west of Madagascar on December 14, generating wind gusts approaching 155mph (250km/hr). Later on, it hit Mozambique, East Africa with the same ferocity.
This storm skirted north of Madagascar and affected the Comoros archipelago before making landfall in Mozambique. It is well within the range of what is expected for this part of the Indian Ocean. But this region has experienced an increase in the most intense tropical cyclones in recent years. This, alongside its occurrence so early in the season, can be linked to increases in ocean temperatures as a result of climate change.
News of the effects of tropical cyclone Chido in Mayotte, Mozambique and Malawi continues to emerge. Current estimates suggest 70% of Mayotte’s population have been affected, with over 50,000 homes in Mozambique partially or completely destroyed.
Ongoing conflict in Mozambique and undocumented migration to Mayotte will have played a key role in the number of deaths and the infrastructure damage.
Assessing how these cyclones characteristics are changing across southern Africa is part of the research we are involved in. Our team also studies how to build resilience to cyclones where conflict, displacement and migration magnify their effects.
A human-made disaster?
The risk that tropical cyclones pose to human life is exacerbated by socioeconomic issues. Migrants on Mayotte, many of whom made perilous journeys to escape conflict in countries such as the Democratic Republic of Congo, now make up more than half of the island’s population.
Precarious housing and the undocumented status of many residents reportedly made the disaster more deadly, as people feared evacuation would lead them to the police. On islands with poor infrastructure such as Mayotte, there is often simply nowhere safe to go. It takes many days for the power network and drinking water supply to be restored.
The situation is particularly complex in Mozambique. The ongoing conflict and terrorist violence, coupled with cyclones, including Kenneth in 2019, has caused repeated evacuations and worsening living conditions. Cabo Delgado and Nampula in the far north of Mozambique, the provinces most affected by both Chido and the conflict, rank among the poorest and most densely populated in the country due to limited education, scarce livelihood options and an influx of people displaced by violence.
As of June 2024, more than half a million people remained without permanent homes in the region, many living in displacement camps. That number is likely to rise significantly after Chido.
Compounding the crisis, Chido’s landfall so early in the cyclone season meant that the usual technical and financial preparations were not yet fully ramped up, with low stock levels delaying the timely delivery of aid. Unrest following elections in November hampered preparations further, cutting the flow of resources and personnel needed for anticipatory action and early response.
Tropical cyclones in a warmer world
Warmer sea surface temperatures not only provide more fuel for stronger storms, but may also expand the regions at risk of tropical cyclones.
Climate simulations predict that storms will continue getting stronger as we further warm our world, and could even lead to an unprecedented landfall as far south as the Mozambican capital, Maputo.
Scientists carry out attribution studies to determine how climate change contributed to specific events. Scientists undertaking rapid attribution studies of Chido have found that the ocean surface temperatures along the path of the storm were 1.1°C warmer than they would have been without climate change. So, temperatures this warm were made more than 50 times more likely by climate change. Another study focusing on Chido itself concluded that the cyclone’s winds were 5% faster due to global heating caused by burning fossil fuels, enough to bump it from a category 3 to a category 4 storm.
Intense winds are not the only hazard. Scientists are confident that tropical cyclones will dump more rain as a result of climate change. A trend towards slower-moving storms has been observed, causing more of that rain to accumulate in a single location, resulting in floods.
Cyclone Freddy delivered a year’s worth of rain to southern Malawi in just four days in March 2023. Storm surges, exacerbated by sea level rise, also raise the scale of flooding, as in the devastating Cyclone Idai in March 2019. An increase in the number of storms that rapidly intensify, as Chido did before landfall in Mayotte has also been linked to climate change, which makes it harder to provide early warnings.
To improve resilience to future cyclones, conflict, migration and social dynamics must be considered alongside climate change, without this, displaced and migrant communities will continue to be the most affected by the risks that climate change poses.
The headline goal of the UK’s peatland strategy – a framework published by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) that sets out how to improve UK peatlands – is simple, yet ambitious. The aim is for 20,000km² (2 million hectares) of UK peatland to be kept in good condition, restored or sustainably managed by 2040.
Yet, with approximately 30,000km² (3 million hectares) of these soggy ecosystems forming a complex mosaic across the UK’s four nations, 80% of it in poor condition, this is a monumental task. Five years after its launch in 2018, the experts behind the IUCN’s UK peatland programme have been reflecting on the progress.
Peat forms where wet and oxygen-limited soil conditions slow the decay of dead vegetation. This builds up over thousands of years leading to thick accumulations of organic matter, or peat. Given the continuing climate emergency, it is imperative that the carbon this contains is kept in the ground and out of the atmosphere where it will contribute to climate change.
However, land use practices over the last century have deeply drained the UK’s peatlands, destroying the waterlogged and oxygen-free conditions that preserve them and releasing the equivalent of 20 million tonnes of CO₂ each year.
Peat restoration is an important nature-based solution that can mitigate climate change and will be an essential part of reaching the UK’s legally binding emissions targets.
By restoring the UK’s peatlands, we avoid further emissions and, in time, convert them back into carbon sinks. Not only that, peatland restoration restores important functions of the ecosystem that help to reduce flood risk, clean water and improve biodiversity.
There are some reasons for optimism. Peat restoration began in the 1990s but has been rapidly accelerating in the last decade, largely focusing on raising water tables to restore low-oxygen conditions.
Around 2,550km² (255,000 hectares) of restoration have been completed. Despite problems in collating reliable data, a preliminary milestone of “1 million hectares in good condition by 2020” has probably been achieved. However, this number includes the best peatlands, which had never been extremely degraded and required little intervention.
Peatlands are finally being recognised in policy. Scotland, England and Wales all now have national peatland strategies that drive restoration of each unique landscape. And progress has been made in legislating against the effect of peat burning, with all burning on deep peat banned in England since 2021 and unlicensed burning on Scottish peatlands set to be implemented from 2025.
The peatlands of Scotland’s Flow Country, the world’s largest and most intact expanse of blanket bog, was recently designated a Unesco world heritage site.
Peat turf cut and left to dry on a wetland in the Scottish Highlands. DrimaFilm/Shutterstock
The way that peatland landscapes are being managed is advancing too. Paludiculture, a way of farming that allows groundwater to remain near the surface, has been a success in Europe and recent trials have shown promise in the UK.
This wetter farming could produce sustainable construction materials and biofuels with crops like bulrushes or reeds and wetland food crops like cranberry, celery and watercress. It could help convert intensive grasslands to wet meadows that can be grazed by carefully chosen breeds of cows or even water buffalo.
Although not ready to be widely implemented, recent trials suggest that this could be key to UK land management in the future.
Despite all this attention, there has been limited progress towards most key areas of the peatland strategy, with both conservation of the best peatlands and restoration of the others falling well below target levels. Indeed, the UK government’s climate change committee consider progress to be “significantly off-track”.
In this latest report, the IUCN UK peatland team says: “The progress we talk about in our report has been made across the whole of the UK since the 1990s.” Scotland, for example, needs to complete as much restoration in only ten years as they have in the last 30. They have scaled up – just nowhere near enough.
Shortfalls and long-term goals
So why, with all this effort and goodwill, are we still falling short? Funding is a problem.
It is widely accepted that public funding will not deliver the estimated £8-22 billion needed to restore all peatlands, but private financing schemes like carbon credits are in their infancy.
There are still no universally agreed definitions of either “peatland” or “restoration”, so eligibility for the various environmental schemes that allow landowners to fund restoration is confusing and off-putting.
Even where restoration can overcome these limitations, there is no centralised way to record the progress in transforming peatlands and very little capacity for the long-term monitoring needed to show whether particular projects are being successful. So tracking progress is near impossible.
Most frustratingly, despite collectively investing £318 million in peat restoration projects, no government has banned the extraction of peat and the long-promised ban on peat sales for horticulture has not materialised anywhere in the UK.
Although progress has been slow, the capacity and knowledge built over these last five years is huge. There has never been such awareness of a need to protect and restore our peatlands, so many people available with the right skills to do it and so much political will and public or private funding to carry it out.
There are many reasons progress has been slow but, with the right funding and legislation, the progress made in the last five years can be accelerated and two million hectares of healthy UK peat may still be possible by 2040.
Now that the UN’s climate summit, Cop29 in Azerbaijan, is over, it is clearer than ever that almost every peat-containing nation in the world is grappling with the same trade-offs. Just as we are debating how to raise water tables in Somerset without ending hundreds of years of dairy farming, south-east Asian countries struggle to reduce emissions from their vast regions of degraded agricultural peatland while still sustaining populations with enormous requirements for rice.
Keeping peat in wet ground, from Scottish peat bogs to the rice paddies of China, is one of the most cost-effective ways of keeping greenhouse gas emissions down, and we need to preserve and restore as much of it as possible.
This is a sad record for Africa’s only penguin, and means it is now just one step away from extinction.
How did this happen? African penguins (Spheniscus demersus) are found only in Namibia and South Africa. Their numbers have been declining since the 1800s. At that time, they were burnt in ships’ boilers, their eggs were harvested and consumed as a delicacy, and their nests were destroyed by guano-harvesters seeking a rich source of fertiliser.
These laws and regulations ban the capture of penguins or their eggs, and any intentional harm done to them. Fertilisers no longer use guano (penguin excrement). After egg and guano harvesting stopped, the lack of prey (small fish like sardines and anchovies) became the main issue for penguins from the early 2000s.
The impacts of climate change on the distribution and abundance of their food, and competition with industrial fisheries, have contributed to a 70% reduction in this penguin’s population between 2000 and 2024.
We are a group of scientists from universities and non-governmental organisations that have, for years, focused on solutions to save the African penguin. Today, unless the South African government takes urgent steps to protect the African penguin, it will likely become extinct in the wild by 2035. At present there are fewer than 20,000 birds left in the wild.
Penguins are like the canaries in the coal mine. They are disappearing because the ecosystem they rely on, together with many other species, including fish targeted by commercial fisheries, is in dire straits. By saving them, we protect their ecosystem and the other species that rely on it.
The destruction of African penguins’ nesting habitat over the centuries has been partly repaired by setting up artificial nests in penguin colonies. New research has found that these improve the number of penguin eggs that hatch by 16.5% compared to natural surface or bush nests which remain vulnerable to the elements.
Steps to protect the African penguins’ food supply also worked. One step was the experimental “no-take zones”, where the South African government prohibited fishing around the penguins’ breeding areas between 2008 and 2019.
The government closed commercial fishing of sardines and anchovies in a 20km radius around Robben Island on the west coast and St Croix Island in Algoa Bay for three years. During this time, commercial fishing around the neighbouring penguin colonies of Dassen Island and Bird Island was still permitted. The closure was alternated every three years until 2019 to see if it affected the penguin populations.
The results were positive. Penguins were able to catch fish with less effort and their chicks’ health and survival rates improved. The population increased by about 1% – a small increase, but very important, considering they were already endangered.
In parallel, the African Penguin Biodiversity Management Plan was published in 2013. The plan focused on managing predators, such as Cape fur seals and kelp gulls, and rescuing abandoned eggs and chicks. Thousands of individual penguins were saved and released into the wild over the years.
What has gone wrong for the penguin
Despite these efforts, the African penguin population fell faster from the mid-2010s. This was mostly due to the sudden collapse of the colony at St Croix Island, then the world’s largest African penguin colony.
This collapse coincided with the establishment of ship-to-ship bunkering activities (refuelling ships at sea rather than in ports) in Algoa Bay in 2016. While the ships were refuelling, four oil spills occurred.
Our previous research has revealed that African penguins are highly sensitive to underwater noise. Noise from ships or drilling equipment chases penguins away from their feeding grounds.
This also uses up the African penguins’ energy, often at a time when they have none to spare. Penguins need energy reserves before starting their annual moult, when they stay ashore for three weeks without eating to replace all their feathers. If they don’t find enough food before or after that stressful period, they die.
Can the African penguin be saved?
The experimental use of no-take zones in penguin breeding areas ended in 2019. A panel of international experts was then appointed by the South African government to review the experiment and suggest a way forward.
The panel said no-take zones should be put in place around all colonies. They recommended ways to balance the benefit to penguins against the cost to fisheries.
Meanwhile, bunkering in Algoa Bay has stopped temporarily after the South African Revenue Service detained five ships in September 2023 on allegations of breaching customs laws.
Subsequently, small increases in the St Croix Island penguin population have been seen for the first time in nearly ten years.
African penguins can bounce back when environmental conditions are good. Government and non-governmental organisations have worked hard to prevent various threats to penguins. But critical work remains to be done to protect their foraging habitat (the ocean around their colonies) from polluting activities.
Penguins also need protection from competition with industrial fisheries for fish supplies.
Global temperature records are expected to exceed the 1.5 °C threshold for the first time this year. This has happened much sooner than predicted. So can life on the planet adapt quickly enough?
In our new research, published today in Nature, we explored the ability of tiny marine organisms called plankton to adapt to global warming. Our conclusion: some plankton are less able to adapt now than they were in the past.
Plankton live in the top few metres of ocean. These algae (phytoplankton) and animals (zooplankton) are transported by ocean currents as they do not actively swim.
Some data suggest that current climate change have already altered the marine plankton dramatically. Models project a shift of plankton towards both poles (where ocean temperatures are cooler), and losses to zooplankton in the tropics but might not predict the patterns we see in data. Satellite data for plankton biomass are still too short term to determine trends through time.
To overcome these problems, we have compared how plankton responded to past environmental change and modelled how they could respond to future climate changes. As the scientist Charles Lyell said, “the past is the key to the present”.
We explored one of the best fossil records from a group of marine plankton with hard shells called Foraminifera. This comprehensive database of current and past distributions, compiled by researchers at the University of Bremen, has been collected by hundreds of scientists from the seafloor across the globe since the 1960s. We compared data from the last ice age, around 21,000 years ago, and modern records to see what happened when the world has previously warmed.
We used computational models, which combine climate trends with traits of marine plankton and their effect on marine plankton, to simulate the oceanic ecosystems from the last ice age to the pre-industrial age. Comparing the model with the data from the fossil record is giving us support that the model simulated the rules determining plankton growth and distribution.
We found that some subtropical and tropical species’ optimum temperature for peak growth and reproduction could deal with seawater warming in the past, supported by both fossil data and model. Colder water species of plankton managed to drift to flourish under more favourable water temperatures.
Our analysis shows that Foraminifera could handle the natural climate change, even without the need to adapt via evolution. But could they deal with the current warming and future changes in ocean conditions, such as temperature?
Future of the food chain
We used this model to predict the future under four different degrees of warming from 1.5 to 4 °C. Unfortunately, this type of plankton’s ability to deal with climate change is much more limited than it was during past warming. Our study highlights the difference between faster human-induced and slower-paced geological warming for marine plankton. Current climate change is too rapid and is reducing food supply due to ocean stratification, both making plankton difficult to adapt to this time.
Phytoplankton produce around 50% of the world’s oxygen. So every second breath we take comes from marine algae, while the rest comes from plants on land. Some plankton eat other plankton. That in turn gets eaten by fish and then marine mammals, so energy transfers further up the food chain. As it photosynthesises, phytoplankton is also a natural carbon fixation machine, storing 45 times more carbon than the atmosphere.
Around the world, many people depend heavily on food from the ocean as their primary protein sources. When climate change threatens marine plankton, this has huge knock-on effects throughout the rest of the marine food web. Plankton-eating marine mammals like whales won’t have enough food to prey on and there’ll be fewer fish to eat for predators (and people). Reducing warming magnitude and slowing down the warming rate are necessary to protect ocean health.
Although exploring the synergies between these three COPs is of great importance and their close temporal proximity this year facilitates such discussion, I will focus solely on the CBD COP 16 as I had the opportunity to attend it in person as a University of Bristol academic observer.
CBD COP 16, held in Cali, Colombia started on the 21st of October and was due to end on the 1st of November. Negotiations overrun until the morning of the 2nd of November but they were suspended as the quorum was lost, leaving discussions on some key issues such as the strategy for resource mobilization to be resumed at a later date.
As biodiversity COPs are held biannually, COP 16 was the first COP since the adoption of the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework (GBF) at COP 15 in 2022. No one was expecting the negotiation of another major agreement at COP 16, with the key issue being the implementation of the GBF framework.
An introduction to the GBF
Differently from the Paris Agreement under the UNFCCC, the GBF is not legally binding. Nevertheless, given that the boundary between binding and non-binding instruments in international environmental law is not always so clear-cut, the GBF has a central role in directing biodiversity law and policy. The GBF is a largely aspirational goal and target-oriented instrument. It contains four Goals to ‘live in harmony with nature’ by 2050 and 23 global Targets for 2030, split into three categories, namely ‘reducing threats to biodiversity’, ‘meeting people’s needs through sustainable use and benefit-sharing’ and ‘tools and solutions for implementation and mainstreaming’. The Targets have different degrees of ‘quantifiability’, impacting also on Parties’ strategies and methodologies of implementation.
For example, the well- known ‘30 by 30’ target (Target 3) sets the threshold of 30% of the coverage of protected areas and other effective area-based conservation measures (OECMs) in terrestrial and inland water areas as well as marine and coastal areas to be reached by 2030. In contrast, Target 5, which still falls within the first category of ‘reducing threats to biodiversity’, is framed using a more general language: ‘ensure that the use, harvesting and trade of wild species is sustainable, safe and legal, preventing overexploitation, minimizing impacts on non-target species and ecosystems, and reducing the risk of pathogen spillover, applying the ecosystem approach, while respecting and protecting customary sustainable use by indigenous peoples and local communities.’
There are not only differences between Targets but the wordings of individual Targets themselves is sometimes contradictory, making for complex implementation as conflicting directions are suggested. For example, Target 19 pushes for the marketisation of nature, encouraging the private sector to invest in biodiversity and employing uncritically the language of green bonds and payments for ecosystem services, whilst, at the same, promoting the role of ‘Mother Earth centric action and non-market approaches’. Even if not all targets are rife with internal contradictions, other internal differences may exist, with some objectives expressed in a qualitative rather than a quantitative manner or by reference to concepts that lack unified legal definitions. This makes it more difficult to devise specific indicators, with the consequence that Parties will likely concentrate on the objectives requiring easier interpretative skills. For example, going back to the ‘30 by 30’ Target 3, the quantitative component is followed by references to ‘equitably governed systems’, which could mean very different things to different regulatory actors and there is still much work to be done on the identification of OECMs.
It should be recalled that this is not the first time the CBD employs the language of Targets and Goals. Notably, the CBD Strategic Plan for Biodiversity 2011-2020 included the Aichi Biodiversity Targets structured around 5 strategic goals, though most were not achieved and few partially achieved, as reported in the Global Biodiversity Outlook 5. COP 16’s focus on implementation was therefore crucial to avoid historical failures repeating themselves in 2030.
The spaces and voices of COP 16
COPs are notoriously busy and chaotic events. COP 16 of the CBD did indeed feel busy, with many side events happening simultaneously and in parallel to the formal negotiations of the two Working Groups and plenaries, as well as press conferences and Pavilion events. It was also the largest-ever CBD COP with some 23,000 registered delegates. Yet, the Conference Centre that hosted COP 16 in Cali was very capacious and the horizontal disposition of the spaces facilitated inter-ethnic, inter-generational, inter-disciplinary and of course inter-jurisdictional discussions under a Colombian sky often veiled by clouds.
It was a pleasant surprise to witness the high representation of youth, as well as indigenous peoples and local communities advocating for their rights and the rights of nature, though one may wonder if this was primarily due to the fact that COP 16 was organised in South America where the question of who is indigenous and who is not is not as contested as in other continents (such as Africa) and where youth environmental activism is thriving.
Side events also saw the participation of a plurality of voices, hosting delegates from a myriad of Inter-governmental organisations (IGOs) and Non-Governmental Organisations (NGOs), as well as researchers, Secretariat members and sometimes Parties. Thus, cross-fertilisation of ideas dominated the Conference with the hope that points made in side events by activists, academics, and others could filter through Parties to the negotiation tables. Indeed, many times in side events speakers addressed the audience as if it were an audience entirely made up by Parties’ delegates (seldom the case in practice), encouraging it to report back to the contact groups, which are closed working groups attended by Parties discussing draft texts of decisions.
Human rights as a framing device for different world-makings
The language of human rights pervaded the whole COP 16. This is a recent turn for the CBD, considering that the CBD itself and its instruments pre-GBF do not explicitly refer to human rights. In contrast, the GBF lists among the considerations for the implementation of the Framework a ‘human rights-based approach’. Section C 7(g) states in full that ‘the implementation of the Framework should follow a human rights-based approach, respecting, protecting, promoting and fulfilling human rights. The Framework acknowledges the human right to a clean, healthy and sustainable environment’. There are a few other references to human rights language scattered in the text. For example, in Target 22, reference is made to the ‘full protection of environmental human rights defenders’. The GBF’s explicit inclusion of human rights language and also the acknowledgement of a substantive human right to a clean, healthy and sustainable environment—which cross references the UN General Assembly Resolution of 28 July 2022—has solidified the link between human rights and biodiversity protection. Thus, it is not surprising that delegates at COP 16 used human rights language extensively.
In this context, it was interesting to observe that different groups internalised and strategically deployed human rights language to advance different, sometimes, but not always complementary, world-makings. Youth representatives referred to human rights as a tool for achieving inter-generational equity in biodiversity conservation; many indigenous peoples’ representatives employed human rights language to advance substantive claims such as rights to land and resources as well as procedural ones such as participatory rights in conservation decision-making; women representatives employed human rights language to address gender inequalities in conservation; some UN representatives strongly supported a human rights-based approach to area-based conservation as a means to avoid the tragedies brought about by ‘fortress conservation’; others used human rights language to reiterate key objectives of existing international law instruments.
The concept of human rights returned over and over in COP discussions intersecting with other reflections that unwrap the many lines around which biodiversity is framed and practiced by different communities and actors.
Outcomes and beyond
As mentioned above, COP 16 was suspended leaving for a later date, decisions on some critical issues, such as finance mechanisms and monitoring mechanism to measure Parties’ progress in achieving GBF Targets and Goals. Considering the slow implementation of the GBF- only 44 Parties have submitted revised National Biodiversity Strategies and Action Plans (NBSAPs), which are the main national implementation tools under Article 6 of the CBD- it is disappointing that decisions on budget and monitoring mechanisms have been left pending. However, there were also many achievements at COP 16, including:
the launch of the ‘Cali fund’ to operationalise the sharing of benefits from uses of digital sequence information (DSI);
a number of sectoral decisions, including one on the mechanism for identifying ecologically or biologically significant marine areas (EBSAs), which had been the subject of legal and political discussion for eight years.
The decisions related to Article 8(j) stand out considering the central role indigenous peoples and local communities play in the protection of biodiversity and the importance of including different epistemologies in biodiversity decision-making. During COP itself, there were arguments in favour and against the creation of such subsidiary body. Concerns revolved around questions such as ‘Why fixating on only one article of the CBD? Why a subsidiary body on this specific article and not others?’, ‘Would the subsidiary body silo indigenous peoples and local communities concerns?’, ‘Should indigenous peoples and local communities still be clustered together?’ Many counter-arguments were raised promoting the establishment of the subsidiary body as a way to legitimise and render more visible indigenous peoples and local communities’ practices turning these actors as policy makers instead of policy takers included in NBSAPs. The new subsidiary body’s modus operandi will be developed over the next two years, and it will be interesting to follow such development.
Outcomes are important, and in a goal and target-oriented environmental law world such as the one the CBD governance infrastructure presents, it is natural and logical to focus on what is achieved and what is not. However, the success of COP 16, like all COPs, should not solely be determined by its outcomes. It is essential to remember the spaces and the conversations that unfolded in between, the sharing of knowledge by a global community coming together for a few days from very different paths of life and with different agendas, a multitude unified by the shared concern of biodiversity loss, which continues at unprecedented rates and deserves everyone attention in COPs and beyond.
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This blog is written by Cabot Institute for the Environment member, Professor Margherita Pieraccini, Professor of Law at the University of Bristol Law School.
This article is republished from 
