Highlights from Ember’s Global Electricity Review of 2025 Spain’s Andesol Power Station. Wikimedia Global energy think tank Ember’s latest global electricity analysis finds that 2025 marked a historic clean-power turning point: Solar generated more electricity than wind for the first time, while renewables collectively overtook coal as the world’s largest source of electricity. Key Data Points: Solar grew 30% in 2025, the largest annual increase ever recorded for a single electricity source. Solar added 636 TWh (terawatt-hours) of generation, surpassing the previous record solar increase of 479 TWh set in 2024. Wind added 205 TWh, growing 8.2% in 2025, making it the second-largest source of new generation after solar. Solar reached 2,778 TWh globally, just ahead of wind’s 2,715 TWh, marking the first year solar topped wind power generation. Solar and wind together met 99% of new global electricity demand growth in 2025, sharply limiting the need for additional fossil fuel generation. Renewables generated 10,730 TWh, reaching 33.8% of the global electricity mix and overtaking coal for the first time. Coal fell below one-third of global electricity generation, while renewables moved ahead as the world’s largest electricity source. Fossil fuel generation declined by 0.2%, suggesting that clean power growth may now be strong enough to begin pushing fossil electricity into structural decline. Why It Matters: Ember’s data suggest that solar is no longer just the fastest-growing energy source—it could become the central driver of global electricity growth. The fact that solar overtook wind, renewables overtook coal, and fossil generation slipped in the same year makes 2025 a potential landmark in the clean-energy transition.

Weather in the contiguous US states was astonishingly hot and dry in the month of March. Pexels March 2026 marked an extraordinary moment in US climate history, with record-breaking warmth, widespread drought, and stark regional contrasts. According to the NOAA National Climate Report (March 2026), the month set new benchmarks for temperature and dryness, alongside climate variability across the country. Key Data Points The contiguous US average temperature reached 50.85°F, making March 2026 the warmest March in 132 years of recordkeeping. Average daytime high temperatures were 11.4°F above normal, even exceeding typical April highs by 0.9°F. More than 1,432 counties—over half the US—experienced their warmest March day on record. The period from April 2025 to March 2026 became the warmest 12-month span ever recorded in the US (since 1895). National precipitation from January to March 2026 fell to less than 70% of average, making it the driest start to a year on record. Drought expanded to nearly 60% of the contiguous US, the largest footprint since November 2022. March 2026 marked the first time any US month exceeded 9°F above the 20th-century average, underscoring the extremity of the anomaly. Temperatures in Yuma, Arizona, hit 109 degrees, breaking the national March record. In contrast, Alaska recorded its fourth-coldest March since 1925, highlighting dramatic regional divergence.

Wildfires Still a Major Threat A firefighter in Brazil's Mato Grosso state. Pexels Global tropical forests are under intense pressure from a combination of agricultural expansion, wildfires, and land-use change. The latest analysis from the World Resources Institute’s Global Forest Review and Global Forest Watch platform shows that while some recent progress has been made, overall trends remain far off track from global goals to halt deforestation by 2030. Tropical forests are critical carbon sinks, biodiversity reservoirs, and sources of livelihoods, yet they remain vulnerable to climate change and economic pressures, with around 94% of deforestation occurring in these forests. Key Data Points An estimated 4.3 million hectares (10.6 million acres) of tropical primary forest were lost in 2025. This was down 36% from 2024’s record high losses. Much of the 2025 reduction was due to a 42% decline in Brazil, which reached the “lowest level of non-fire primary forest loss on record.” However, Brazil still had the largest area of tropical rainforest loss, given the size of its forests. Forest loss in 2025 equaled more than 11 soccer fields per minute, highlighting the continued rapid pace of deforestation. Wildfire data from 2025 was incomplete, but in 2024, fires were responsible for nearly half of tropical forest loss. That marked the first time fires overtook agriculture as the leading driver of forest loss; prior to 2024, fires accounted for about 20% of losses. Wildfire-driven forest loss in 2024 released 4.1 gigatons of greenhouse gases, more than four times the emissions from all global air travel in 2023. Despite recent improvements, tropical forest loss in 2025 remains 46% higher than a decade ago, showing that gains are fragile and uneven.

How Litigation Has Empowered Grassroots Environmentalism By Richard Laezman* Storm King Mountain (left) in upstate New York was the focus of a landmark environmental lawsuit ending in 1980. Across the Hudson River is Sugarloaf Mountain. Ultima Gaina/iStock Picture yourself on a trail on Storm King Mountain in upstate New York. After scampering over rocks, you stop to admire the oaks that grace the landscape. Departing from the trailhead in the morning, you ascend toward the summit through a thick blanket of fog until you reach its cliffs. At the occasional clearing, you marvel at the awesome view of the Hudson River Valley below, looking much like it did 1,000 years ago. The mountain and its surrounding area offer a breathtaking escape from New York City, only 60 miles south. A product of natural forces eons in the making, its current tranquility and beauty also owe their existence to a unique instance of human conservation: This mountain was the focus of a landmark lawsuit, Scenic Hudson Preservation Conference v. Federal Power Commission, filed by environmentalists after utility giant Consolidated Edison made plans to build a huge hydroelectric plant on the Hudson River close to Storm King Mountain. The victory of the Preservation Conference dramatically altered the way in which conservationists could challenge undesirable projects and led to many more legal wins against companies and others who wanted to harness energy at the expense of beautiful and pristine environments. Environmentalists’ Legal Power Emerges The Scenic Hudson case started in 1962, after local conservationists learned of Con Ed’s plans for a power plant at Storm King Mountain in a New York Times article. According to the Times’ September 27 article, Con Ed’s chairman told a news conference that, after studying the river for 20 years, they saw a way to use technological advancements to bring more electricity to the burgeoning downstream population—all without disrupting river traffic. The Times’ article included a schematic drawing of what was planned. Conservationists, backed by nearby towns and villages, opposed the project, saying that it would cause irreparable environmental and aesthetic harm. Their lawsuit lasted for 17 years and concluded in 1980, when Con Edison abandoned the project. Scenic Hudson … ruled that regulatory agencies should evaluate projects not just on their economics, but on environmental values. This was the first time conservationists were given so-called “legal standing” to oppose an infrastructure project not on their land. For more than 40 years, legal action has continued and expanded its scope, as society grapples to stop man-made pollution and other forms of environmental mismanagement while governments, utilities, and corporations try to fill the energy needs of growing populations. The Ripple Effects of Scenic Hudson Scenic Hudson ruled that citizens who enjoyed a natural landscape for recreational and aesthetic reasons had a legitimate role in challenging certain projects, even if they did not own specific parcels of property that would be impacted. The case further set the legal precedent that regulatory agencies should evaluate projects not just on their economics but on environmental values. Additionally, the federal government passed legislation using the same logic. The National Environmental Policy Act of 1969, as well as the Clean Air Act (1970) and the Clean Water Act (1972), reflected the philosophy that regulatory agencies must conduct rigorous review and consideration of the environmental impact of projects applying for regulatory approval. Environmental litigation—especially in the US—has proliferated since Scenic Hudson. In 2009, Prof. Michael Gerrard of Columbia Law School founded the Climate Litigation Database, an online resource that tracks these types of lawsuits worldwide. According to Gerrard, more than 3,000 cases have been filed worldwide as of June 30, 2025—more than 65% (1,986) in the US. The cases have had a powerful impact on environmentalism and conservation nationally and globally. For example, in the 1940s, the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power began tapping into Mono Lake in the eastern Sierra Nevada. Over the years, as the waters began to dry up, the lake and its surrounding ecosystems became badly degraded. Exposed tufa (calcium carbonate) towers in California’s highly alkaline Mono Lake. The California Supreme Court ruled that the lake possesses “public trust” values of ecological, recreational, and aesthetic importance, so its water could not be unlimitedly exploited by Los Angeles. Richard E. Ellis/Wikipedia CC by 3.0 A lawsuit was brought, and in the 1983 case of National Audubon Society v. Superior Court, the California Supreme Court came to the rescue of Mono Lake. The case is considered significant by legal experts because of its unique interpretation of the so-called Public Trust Doctrine, which holds that the state owns and is responsible for protecting certain natural and cultural resources for the benefit of the public. The court ruled that the state must consider the doctrine in allocating water rights, by balancing them with ecological considerations. Subsequently, Los Angeles was ordered to reduce its diversions until lake water levels reached acceptable levels. Young Conservationists in Court More than 40 years after the conclusion of Scenic Hudson and Audubon, significant environmental litigation continued with a younger generation of plaintiffs. In Montana in 2020, a nonprofit, public-interest law firm, Our Children’s Trust, filed a lawsuit on behalf of 16 Montana youths who believed the pristine resource of the air was threatened by emissions from the burning of fossil fuels. The plaintiffs in Held v. Montana argued that the state’s support of the fossil fuel industry had worsened the effects of climate change and denied the youths’ rights to clean air that were granted to them in the state’s constitution. A district court decided in favor of the youths, ruling that the recently amended Montana Environmental Policy Act violated the state’s constitution. More specifically, it ruled that the state had violated the youths’ constitutional “right to a clean and healthful environment.” The state’s Supreme Court upheld the ruling. The ruling in Held is considered significant by legal scholars because it is the first case to successfully challenge the effects of climate change on constitutional grounds. The ruling put states on notice that they cannot ignore the effects of climate change, and it opened the door for legal challenges in other states that have similar environmental protections in their constitutions. The Social Injustice of Environmental Harm Sheila Foster is a professor at Columbia University’s Climate School and at the Columbia University Law School and specializes in environmental and climate justice. She told The Earth & I that the United States has a “very good system of conservation,” but that unfortunately the benefits of that system are not distributed equally, and “many communities are not protected.” That often leads to disparities between racial communities, although the divide runs deeper, she said. She explained that environmental justice in the US is as much about class as it is about race. Families on the lower end of the socioeconomic spectrum—regardless of whether they are white, black, or Hispanic—have fewer housing options and that, while they may live in neighborhoods that are more affordable, the areas may also be in proximity to sources of industrial pollution. “How you talk about environmental justice,” Foster said, “depends on where you live.” On the positive side, this history of environmental injustice has also encouraged a movement to oppose such disparities. In the book From the Ground Up, Foster and coauthor Luke Cole describe how many of these communities have fought back, using grassroots activism coupled with litigation to stop corporate polluters and the harm they cause. The book describes Kettleman City, a tiny farmworker community in California’s San Joaquin Valley, where 95% of the residents are Latino. It is also home to one of the largest toxic waste dumps in the country, owned by Chemical Waste Management, about three and a half miles from the town. In 1988, the company applied to build an incinerator on the site. Residents mobilized and attended hearings to protest the facility. Their protests were ignored, and the local planning commission, followed by the county board of supervisors, approved the project. Then residents went to court, where their concerns were finally acknowledged. A judge ruled that the project’s Environmental Impact Report did not adequately address the impact on air quality and agriculture. The judge also ruled that residents had not been meaningfully included in the permitting process. Eventually, the company withdrew the project. The Pendulum Swings As is the case with all social issues, opinions on environmental litigation vary, legal interpretations diverge, and the trajectory of progress is inextricably linked to the vicissitudes of national politics. John Dernbach, Commonwealth Professor of Environmental Law and Sustainability at Widener University’s Commonwealth Law School in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, has written extensively about environmental litigation. Dernbach told The Earth & I that, when it comes to judicial decisions, logic can vary, and a ruling in one case that favors conservationists does not guarantee that another court will rule in a similar fashion. “Different courts employ different reasoning,” he explained, adding, “The facts of the case also matter.” While environmental litigation may face hurdles at the federal level, there are still opportunities for success. Most of these are at state level. The US Supreme Court has ruled unfavorably on environmental litigation in a number of significant cases. However, while environmental litigation may face hurdles at the federal level, there are still opportunities for success. Most of these are at state level. In an interview with The Earth & I, Gerrard, of Columbia, explained that “states are able to impose stronger environmental laws than the federal government.” For example, he noted that 30 states have adopted renewable energy standards. States have also adopted requirements for the cleanup of hazardous waste. “The law is clear that states have power,” he said. Environmental Litigation Abroad While environmental litigation has a strong legacy in the US and Europe, it is far less prevalent in developing countries. The UN Environment Programme says that, as of June 2025, there were 3,099 climate-related lawsuits filed around the world, but fewer than 10% of them were in the Global South. Nonetheless, there have been some powerful legal developments in emerging economies. Vanuatu, a low-lying Pacific island nation, was hit hard by Cyclone Pam in 2015. Graham Crumb/Imagicity.com/Wikipedia CC by SA 3.0 In 2023, for example, a case was brought before the International Court of Justice (ICJ) in The Hague, The Netherlands, concerning climate change. Also known as the World Court, this is the judicial body of the United Nations. The case was brought by a group of countries led by Vanuatu, a small, low-lying Pacific island nation especially vulnerable to the effects of climate change, including multiple catastrophic cyclones. Reasoning that global warming is caused largely by emissions from other, more industrialized countries, it petitioned to have its arguments considered. In 2025, the ICJ issued a landmark ruling in the case, “Obligations of States in Respect of Climate Change” (Case No. 187). The 15 justices unanimously agreed that the nations of the world are responsible for greenhouse gas emissions and can be held accountable for damages. While the ruling is advisory, it sets a precedent of holding nations accountable for their emissions and could influence legal reasoning in other proceedings. Among other environmental efforts, remarkable legal strategies to clean up river basins have also been undertaken in countries like Egypt and India. In Egypt, the legendary Nile River became polluted by industrial dumping, agricultural drainage, and unlicensed shoreline construction. But because there are so many governmental “owners” of the shoreline, legal accountability had been diluted to near zero. But then Parliament swept away the bureaucratic paralysis and enacted Law No. 147 (the Water Resources Law) in 2021, which strongly unified and gave new power to the state’s legal mechanisms. It unsiloed the Ministries of Water Resources, Interior, Environment, and Justice. The law made it a major criminal offense—not just a code violation—to discharge industrial or toxic agricultural waste into the Nile, its vast network of irrigation canals, or its tributaries. The new statute empowered the Egyptian Environmental Affairs Agency to impose large fines of up to about $10,000 per violation, mandate immediate factory shutdowns, and bring charges against corporate executives directly for criminal jail time. Instead of waiting for slow civil litigation to unfold, the government now conducts broad enforcement sweeps. The High Court of Uttarakhand declared the Ganges and Yamuna rivers—and all their tributaries—as “legal and living entities having the status of a legal person.” A Ganges River canal in Haridwar, India, is drained and cleaned every year. Bibek 2011/CC BY SA 3.0 Meanwhile, in India, industrial and metropolitan polluters have flouted national cleanup mandates for decades, pouring toxic waste and raw sewage into the Ganges River, which is sacred to Hindus. Finally, however, in a landmark ruling (Mohd. Salim v. State of Uttarakhand), the High Court of Uttarakhand declared the Ganges and Yamuna rivers—and all their tributaries—as “legal and living entities having the status of a legal person.” By granting the river the same legal rights as a human being, the court sought to allow environmental advocates to sue polluting corporations or negligent municipalities on behalf of the river itself for bodily harm. The court appointed top state officials to act as the river’s legal guardians. The ruling touched off an explosion of debate and is now still in the appeals process. However, the High Court’s judicial rationale fundamentally transformed Indian environmental law. The National Green Tribunal and the State Pollution Control Boards have now been emboldened to issue direct, heavy financial penalties and immediate-closure orders to hundreds of noncompliant tanneries and chemical plants in the rivers’ basin. The Industry Perspective Industry groups often argue that some environmental lawsuits—while legally permissible—can become counterproductive when they are used primarily to delay or block projects rather than to address serious environmental harm. “Litigation plays a critical role in enforcing laws and protecting environmental standards,” American Council for Capital Formation Chief Economist Pinar Çebi Wilber told Daily Energy Insider. “However, when litigation becomes a substitute for policymaking, it can introduce significant uncertainty into investment decisions and delay the development of infrastructure that is essential for economic growth and energy security.” Industry advocates also argue that some lawsuits are driven less by broad environmental concerns than by local opposition movements (“Not In My Backyard” or NIMBY activism), political agendas, or attempts to extract financial settlements. Business organizations often say this creates a climate in which nearly any major project becomes vulnerable to costly delays regardless of its overall public benefit. Environmental groups say that what industry often labels “frivolous” lawsuits are often essential accountability tools, especially when government agencies fail to enforce regulations or when communities lack political power. They argue that litigation can force transparency, improve project design, protect public health, and preserve ecosystems that might otherwise be sacrificed for short-term economic gain. Thanks to Scenic Hudson, the debate has ended on whether conservation groups can have a legal voice in projects that affect the environment. Today, litigation revolves around how to balance environmental protection, democratic participation, economic development, and the need for timely decision-making. *Richard Laezman is a freelance writer in Los Angeles, California. He has a passion for energy efficiency and innovation. He has been covering renewable power and other related subjects for more than ten years.

Why Surfer-Scholar Easkey Britton Shares 'Blue Space' Science with the World By Natasha Spencer-Jolliffe* Easkey Britton is a five-time winner in the Irish National Surfing Championships. Photo courtesy of Easkey Britton Ask any surfer—or person who loves being near the water—and they’ll tell you that “the ocean heals.” The saltwater, rhythm of the waves and tides, and even the silence of open water are all known to be therapeutic. What was once anecdotal knowledge about the power of the ocean is now backed by a growing body of scientific research in a field known as “blue health” or “blue space” science. Surfers are especially aware of the need for humans to reciprocate the care that water provides. Confronted daily with plastic trash and tangled fishing gear, a growing number are taking action to protect aquatic ecosystems and ensure that water environments remain a source of healing for everyone. Advancing Blue Health Research Easkey Britton. Photo courtesy of Easkey Britton For five-time Irish surfing champion, scientist, and social ecologist Easkey Britton, the ocean is far more than a place for recreation. It is a presence in a relationship that has shaped her identity, informed her research, and inspired her advocacy for healthier connections between people and aquatic environments. Britton grew up on Ireland’s west coast, where the sea was part of everyday life. “Not somewhere separate you visited, but something woven into identity, rhythm, and belonging,” she told The Earth & I. As a child, she understood that being near the ocean changed how she felt. “The ocean became a space where I could process emotion without needing to explain it.” Today, Britton is helping to advance the growing field of blue health research—the idea that oceans, lakes, rivers, and coastlines can positively impact human health. What Is Blue Health? Blue health refers to the physical, psychological, and social benefits associated with spending time in and around water environments. Researchers have found that blue spaces can reduce stress, improve mood, encourage physical activity, restore attention, and strengthen feelings of connection to nature. But Britton believes the concept extends beyond individual well-being. “It’s about understanding how our relationship with water shapes us biologically, psychologically, and socially.” “It’s about understanding how our relationship with water shapes us biologically, psychologically, and socially.” Being near bodies of water, she says, helps “regulate the nervous system in ways we’re only beginning to fully understand scientifically.” The idea also carries an important reciprocal dimension. Blue care recognizes that healing is relational. Healthy ecosystems support human well-being, and humans can respond through conservation, sustainable practices, and responsible stewardship. The Science behind Water’s Healing Effects “This concept of blue health will only become more important in the future, as growing cities will want to utilize the waterways around which they are often built, be it a river, a lake, or on a coast,” Noah Fried, PhD candidate at the University of Vienna and coauthor of a soon-to-be-released research paper on blue spaces, told The Earth & I. Water’s significant cooling properties, for instance, help to reduce the so-called “urban heat island” effect—where concrete and asphalt store heat and radiate it back into the air. “This reduction of temperature around water already does wonders for physical and mental health during a hot day,” added Fried. Research conducted by Britton and colleagues in 2018 found that blue space health impacts included “self-esteem, self-efficacy, social confidence, resilience, and other psychological indicators (e.g., stress, mood),” as well as “prosocial behavior.” Blue space impacts self-esteem and prosocial behavior. Photo courtesy of Easkey Britton A study by Dr. Michael White and colleagues in the UK found evidence that access to “safe, clean and attractive blue spaces has a range of potential health and well-being benefits, due to a variety of mechanisms (e.g., lower temperatures, increased physical activity, lower stress, encouraging quality time with friends and family) and for a wide range of people.” Researchers also point to two influential frameworks—Attention Restoration Theory and Stress Reduction Theory—to explain why blue spaces can be so restorative. Water environments provide opportunities for mental recovery, helping replenish cognitive resources and reduce stress. Originally developed to explain the benefits of nature more broadly, these theories are increasingly being applied to aquatic environments. “More recently, we have found that water can also provide these characteristics, and that it is at least as good as ‘regular nature’ for cognitive restoration or stress reduction,” Fried said. For Britton, the most remarkable finding is the breadth of water’s influence. “What surprised me most was how multidimensional the benefits are—it’s never just one thing,” she said. “The healing potential comes from a combination of movement, sensory immersion, community, memory, meaning, and ecological connection—engaging us as whole beings.” “The healing potential comes from a combination of movement, sensory immersion, community, memory, meaning, and ecological connection—engaging us as whole beings.” Surfing as a Pathway to Connection Scientific research increasingly supports what many surfers have long experienced. Surf therapy programs are now being used around the world to support mental health, addiction recovery, youth well-being, and post-traumatic stress disorder treatment. Surf therapy in Virginia Beach, Virginia. iStock While many forms of water recreation can support well-being, surfing uniquely combines several elements associated with blue health: immersion in water, physical activity, mindfulness, concentration, and social connection. For Britton, surfing transformed her relationship with the ocean. “Competitive surfing taught me discipline and resilience, but it also taught me how to listen,” she said. “The ocean doesn’t respond to force or control. It’s an environment that quickly teaches you to adapt, pay attention, and move in response to changing conditions.” Surfing transformed Britton’s relationship with the ocean. Photo courtesy of Easkey Britton Surfing deepened an already profound relationship with the sea. “There’s something profoundly regulating about immersion in moving water—the sensory experience, the need to be present, the humility it demands,” Britton said. “It wasn’t about escape; it was about connection.” “The ocean reminds us that we are part of something larger, dynamic, and alive. And how that, in itself, can be deeply healing.” “The ocean reminds us that we are part of something larger, dynamic, and alive. And how that, in itself, can be deeply healing.” Waiting for waves encourages a heightened awareness of wind, currents, wildlife, and weather. Over time, that awareness becomes something deeper. “The sea stops being a backdrop and becomes a teacher,” Britton said. New Research on Blue Spaces Researchers continue to uncover new insights into how different water environments affect human health. Fried’s mentor at the University of Vienna, Prof. Mathew White, is a leading expert in health and environmental psychology and recipient of the Delcroix Prize for Oceans and Human Health. Forthcoming research from White and colleagues suggests that activities involving direct contact with water—even something as simple as wading in the shallows—provide greater mental health benefits than remaining on shore. The team found that oceans, rivers, and lakes all offer psychological benefits, although oceans may provide a slight advantage. “This might be because the sea is more visually expansive, or because it often seems more natural than a lake or river with a managed shore,” Fried suggested. Research by White and colleagues also suggests that environmental type and quality, visit characteristics, and individual factors influence how people experience blue spaces. From Personal Healing to Public Health To fully realize the benefits of blue health, many researchers find that human rights, equity, sustainability, and social justice must be considered alongside environmental protection. To fully realize the benefits of blue health, many researchers find that human rights, equity, sustainability, and social justice must be considered alongside environmental protection. Fried notes that women, older adults, and people with lower incomes or educational attainment may derive particularly strong mental health benefits from blue-space visits. “If people do not feel safe and if the environment seems neglected, they cannot relax and take their mind off everyday worries,” Fried said. “If properly taken care of, blue spaces can improve public health in the long run and stave off some adverse effects of climate change.” One notable example comes from Glasgow, Scotland, where the regeneration of a neglected urban canal produced measurable public health improvements over a 17-year period in nearby communities. The Forth and Clyde Canal in Glasgow, Scotland. Wikimedia “Inclusive access to high-quality blue spaces has large implications for public health,” Fried said. “Inclusive access to high-quality blue spaces has large implications for public health.” Why Access Matters For Britton, blue health science raises an important question: Who gets access to these benefits? “Access to healthy water environments is becoming an issue of social and environmental justice,” she said. Not everyone can safely or easily experience coastlines, rivers, or lakes. Barriers may include geography, economic circumstances, disability, pollution, cultural exclusion, or historical inequities. “We also know that communities most affected by environmental degradation are often those least responsible for it,” Britton added. Bridging Cultures through Water Britton’s work has also shown how water can connect people across social and cultural divides. Through projects in other countries—including Iran—she has used surfing as a vehicle for community building and cultural exchange. Easkey Britton introduced Iranian women to surfing. Photo courtesy of Easkey Britton. “You can arrive in a coastal community with a different language, religion, or politics, but once people enter the water together, something shifts,” Britton said. “You can arrive in a coastal community with a different language, religion, or politics, but once people enter the water together, something shifts,” Britton said. “Water has always connected cultures through migration, trade, story, and memory,” Britton added. “Reconnecting with that shared relationship is especially important in a time when many societies feel increasingly fragmented.” Healing Water, Healing Ourselves As blue health science advances, Britton sees an opportunity to bring together research, storytelling, and community action. “Science helps us understand the measurable impacts of environmental change and the health benefits of water connection,” she said. “But science alone doesn’t necessarily move people emotionally.” Stories help transform information into meaning and community action. “Relationships with water are rarely individual; they’re cultural and collective,” Britton said. Whether through surfing groups, swimming communities, coastal restoration projects, or intergenerational knowledge-sharing, communities help sustain care over time. Ultimately, she believes restoring our relationship with water requires both environmental and cultural renewal. “Restoring our relationship with water requires both inner and outer change,” Britton said. “We need healthier ecosystems, but we also need cultural stories that remind us we belong to the living world—and are not separate from it.” *Natasha Spencer-Jolliffe is a freelance journalist and editor. Over the past 14 years, Natasha has reported for a host of publications, exploring the wider world and industries from environmental, scientific, business, legal, and sociological perspectives. Natasha has also been interviewed as an insight provider for research institutes and conferences. Editorial notes Sources: Interview with Easkey Britton, five-time surfing champion, scientist and social ecologist Interview with Noah Fried, PhD Student, STRENGTH Research Platform, Strengthening Resilience and Preparedness to Prevent and React to Emerging Socio-Natural Hazards and Risks Environmental Psychology Group | University of Vienna

The Sport Can Transform People through Challenge, Nature, and Community By George Daniel Urioste* The author climbing on Mount Wilson, Red Rock National Conservation Area, Nevada, against a backdrop of the rugged area’s distinctive red sandstone rock faces. Photo courtesy of George Daniel Urioste Long before I tied into a rope or placed my hands on sandstone, I was surrounded by my rock-climber parents’ stories of adventure, exploration, and deep respect for the natural world. This led me into years of rock climbing in the mountains of southern Nevada, Arizona, Utah, California, the Andean nations of South America, and elsewhere. The cliffs became my teachers, offering lessons in patience, humility, and stewardship. While rock climbing will not appeal to everyone, to those it does, a transformational relationship with the natural world awaits. Parents Led the Way My parents were among the pioneers who helped establish rock climbing in the Red Rock National Conservation Area in southern Nevada, not far from Las Vegas. Through decades of dedication and vision, they developed many of the area’s classic climbing routes, helping transform Red Rock into one of the world’s most celebrated climbing destinations. Growing up among these towering sandstone cliffs—and literally following in my parents’ footsteps—shaped far more than my love of climbing. It taught me to love the land itself. Some of my earliest memories are not of reaching summits or completing difficult routes but of watching the desert come alive at sunrise, listening to the wind move through the canyons, and feeling a sense of belonging in wild places. Over time, I realized that climbing was not simply about moving upward; it was about developing a relationship with the natural world. As climbers, we often enter landscapes that few people experience intimately. We touch ancient rock formations, witness fragile ecosystems, and observe up close the subtle rhythms of nature. These experiences cultivate gratitude and responsibility. The more time I spent climbing, the more I understood that these places were not merely playgrounds for recreation. They were living environments worthy of protection. Loving nature and caring for the Earth became inseparable from my identity as a climber. What continues to draw me back to climbing is not simply the thrill of reaching the top of a route. It is the journey itself, the moments of uncertainty overcome by determination, the beauty of wild landscapes, and the deep connections that develop between people facing challenges together. Some of my closest friendships were forged hundreds of feet above the ground, where trust is not optional but essential. In climbing, success is rarely an individual achievement. We depend on one another for safety, encouragement, and support. This shared responsibility fosters empathy, compassion, and a profound sense of community. For countless climbers, the sport becomes a pathway for personal transformation, influencing emotional well-being, mental health, environmental awareness, and human connection. Many people view climbing as a sport defined by strength, endurance, and technical skill. While these physical demands are certainly part of the experience, they only scratch the surface of what climbing is about. For countless climbers, the sport becomes a pathway for personal transformation, influencing emotional well-being, mental health, environmental awareness, and human connection. Through its unique combination of physical challenge, mental engagement, and social interdependence, climbing reveals not only what we are capable of accomplishing but also who we are becoming. One of the author’s climbing companions on an escarpment in Red Rock National Recreation Area, Nevada. Photo courtesy of George Daniel Urioste Climbing and ‘Active Mindfulness’ One of the most remarkable aspects of climbing is its ability to demand complete presence. In our increasingly distracted world, moments of true mindfulness can be difficult to find. Yet climbing naturally creates them. Every handhold, foothold, and movement requires careful attention. When I climb, the constant noise of everyday life fades away. Moments of true mindfulness can be difficult to find. Yet climbing naturally creates them. Every handhold, foothold, and movement requires careful attention. The only thing that matters is the texture of the rock beneath my fingertips, the movement of my body, and the rhythm of my breathing. Psychologists often describe this experience as a “flow state,” where action and awareness become fully merged. According to a 2021 study by Katharine Wheatley, climbing functions as a form of active mindfulness that silences intrusive thoughts and focuses attention entirely on the present moment. This mental immersion has significant benefits for emotional health, according to a thesis by Leeann Wilcox at Winona State University. Indoor bouldering and outdoor traditional climbing challenge participants to confront obstacles, manage frustration, and persevere through failure. Every difficult route presents a choice: Give up or continue trying. Over time, climbers learn that setbacks are not signs of inadequacy but growth opportunities. This process develops resilience and emotional flexibility while reinforcing self-confidence. Standing beneath a towering cliff or overlooking a vast desert canyon reminds us that we are part of something much larger than ourselves. Insights about ‘What Truly Matters’ Outdoor climbing introduces an additional layer of healing through direct contact with nature. Research has found that traditional climbing combined with exposure to natural environments provides particularly strong psychological benefits and reductions in anxiety. Unlike indoor climbing gyms, natural landscapes inspire awe, humility, and perspective. Standing beneath a towering cliff or overlooking a vast desert canyon reminds us that we are part of something much larger than ourselves. A group of friends getting equipped for a day of rock climbing in Red Rock National Recreation Area. Photo courtesy of George Daniel Urioste These moments of awe can have powerful psychological effects. Research suggests that exposure to nature helps reduce stress, interrupt patterns of overthinking, and calm the nervous system. Problems that once seemed overwhelming often feel more manageable when viewed against the backdrop of mountains, deserts, forests, or oceans. The natural world has a remarkable ability to restore perspective and remind us of what truly matters. Beyond reducing stress, time spent outdoors can improve overall well-being. Studies have linked exposure to natural environments to enhanced mood, lowered anxiety, and greater emotional balance. For many climbers, these benefits extend beyond mental health and into a deeper sense of spiritual connection. The experience of moving across a cliff face often creates feelings of gratitude, wonder, and reverence that are difficult to replicate elsewhere. Perhaps most important, spending time in these landscapes often inspires a desire to protect them. Climbers witness firsthand the beauty and fragility of natural environments. We see the effects of drought, erosion, pollution, and human impact. As a result, many climbers develop a strong conservation ethic. The places that challenge us, heal us, and inspire us become places we feel responsible for protecting. Adventure therapy researchers suggest that meaningful experiences in wilderness settings foster emotional growth, reflection, and environmental stewardship. The more we become connected to nature, the more motivated we are to care for it. Collaboration over Competition In many ways, climbing teaches a philosophy of reciprocity. The Earth gives us opportunities for adventure, healing, and personal growth. In return, we are called to respect and protect the landscapes that make those experiences possible. Whether through conservation efforts, sustainable recreation practices, or simply sharing our appreciation for wild places with others, climbers can play an important role in preserving the natural world for future generations. While climbing profoundly affects individuals, its influence extends equally into the social realm. The climbing community is built upon trust and mutual dependence. Nowhere is this more evident than in the relationship between climber and belayer. A climber’s safety depends entirely upon another person’s attentiveness and competence. This level of trust creates bonds that are both rare and meaningful. The author with his wife, Mili (center), and sister, Susi, in the Calico Basin area of Red Rock National Recreation Area. Photo courtesy of George Daniel Urioste Because communication is essential for safety, climbers often discuss fears, uncertainties, and limitations openly. This vulnerability strengthens relationships and fosters empathy. Research examining climbing culture found that the structural necessity of climbing partnerships promotes deep relational trust and cooperation. Tanna Naylor similarly notes that climbing partnerships frequently develop unusually strong bonds because each partner is directly responsible for the other’s well-being. The culture of climbing reinforces the idea that growth is often a shared journey. Climbers regularly share knowledge, encourage one another, and celebrate collective success. Whether solving a difficult sequence or supporting a friend through a challenging ascent, the culture of climbing reinforces the idea that growth is often a shared journey. The author, mugging for the camera with arms spread wide while on a granite cliff face in Yosemite National Park, California, some 2,000 feet above the woods on the valley floor. Photo courtesy of George Daniel Urioste Ultimately, rock climbing demonstrates that human growth often emerges through meaningful challenge. The sport strengthens the body, but its deepest impact lies in its ability to transform the mind, nurture the spirit, and cultivate a profound connection with both people and the natural world. Through movement, trust, awe, and shared struggle, climbing reminds us that we are connected to each other, to the Earth, and to something larger than ourselves. For me, climbing has never been solely about reaching the top of a route. It has been about learning to appreciate the beauty of wild places, developing friendships rooted in trust, and discovering a sense of purpose in caring for the landscapes that have given me so much. Every climb becomes a reminder that healing ourselves and healing the earth are not separate endeavors. They are intertwined journeys. When we spend time in nature, challenge ourselves, and build meaningful relationships, we often emerge not only stronger but also more compassionate, more grounded, and more committed to protecting the world that sustains us. *George Daniel Urioste is a schoolteacher, rock climber, and freelance author who lives in Las Vegas, Nevada.

How the AI Boom is Reshaping Local Communities By Dhanada K. Mishra* Anti-data-center sentiment in rural Kansas neighborhood, May 2026. Wikimedia On a massive, windswept swath of private farmland in Box Elder County in northern Utah, local residents are worried about what “the cloud” will feel like when it finally lands. The Stratos Project Area artificial intelligence (AI) and defense mega data center that they are debating—and which the Box Elder County Commission approved in May—would not be a vague digital abstraction. It would be a concrete complex of server halls, substations, cooling towers, and backup generators on three sites over 40,000 acres—large enough to draw power as if it were a small city. What truly grabbed headlines about the new data center was its projected heat generation. A Utah State University physics professor estimated that, under certain assumptions, the facility could release waste heat into the air and water equivalent to the energy of 23 atomic bombs per day. The analogy was intentionally dramatic, but it captured a real concern: In a warming West already facing shrinking snowpack and a stressed Great Salt Lake, many fear that a vast new heat source and water user could exacerbate local conditions in the wrong direction. Supporters of the new “hyperscale” data center, which is backed by Utah’s Military Installation Development Authority, counter that the campus “will fund modern buildings at Hill Air Force Base,” the Salt Lake Tribune reported. It will also “leave ratepayers unaffected by generating its own power with natural gas, reuse its water, bring in new jobs and keep the United States competitive against China in the artificial intelligence race,” the newspaper said. Box Elder County’s project—and its public outcry—are not an isolated case. Across the United States and beyond, communities from Arizona to Virginia and even faraway India are wrestling with the local consequences of an AI‑driven data center boom. Once tucked quietly into industrial parks, data centers are now among the most visible—and contested—pieces of infrastructure being built. Once tucked quietly into industrial parks, data centers are now among the most visible—and contested—pieces of infrastructure being built. Behind our phones’ gentle notifications lies a hard question: Can we design the infrastructure powering AI so that it supports, rather than strains, the places where it is built? From Invisible Servers to Electric Cities The first shock for many communities is the sheer scale of electricity that modern data centers demand. Hyperscale facilities serving AI workloads often require 100 megawatts of power or more—roughly equivalent to the load of a small city—concentrated on a single campus or cluster. A Google data center, Council Bluffs, Iowa. Wikimedia For local utilities, that can mean massive new substations, high‑voltage transmission lines, and grid upgrades compressed into a few years rather than decades. When several projects arrive at once, planners worry that they will have to delay connecting other industrial customers, lean more heavily on gas‑fired peaker plants, or even consider new fossil‑fuel capacity to keep up. Communities understandably ask whether they will end up paying higher rates so that faraway users can chat with AI chatbots or train the next generation of models. Communities understandably ask whether they will end up paying higher rates so that faraway users can chat with AI chatbots or train the next generation of models. Yet energy experts also see an opportunity. Some types of computing, especially AI model training and batch analytics, do not have to run at a precise minute or in a specific place. In principle, these “flexible computing” workloads could be shifted to times of day when solar and wind output are strongest, or to regions with abundant clean power, turning data centers into adjustable loads that smooth rather than stress the grid. Data center infrastructure is growing in the United States. National Renewable Energy Lab/Wikimedia Water: The Peak-Day Problem If electricity tends to dominate public debate, water may be the subtler constraint. Prof. Shaolei Ren, associate professor at the University of California, Riverside campus, who studies the environmental footprint of digital infrastructure, suggests that communities must look beyond simple annual totals. Annual water use is useful, he tells The Earth & I, but it can hide the real infrastructure issue: Water systems are stressed by peak daily demand, not just the sum over a year. A project with modest annual use can still cause large spikes on hot, dry days—exactly when local systems are already under pressure. Communities should therefore insist on both annual estimates of water usage and peak daily demand, including under drought conditions, before they sign off on a project. Ren also emphasizes that water and energy need to be “planned together,” not treated as separate checkboxes. The best strategies are not simply “use less water at any cost,” because some alternatives—such as abrupt shifts to dry cooling—can drive up electricity consumption and emissions. More promising approaches include using nonpotable or reclaimed water where feasible: With on‑site storage, the data center can draw less from the system during peak hours, improve cooling efficiency, and transparently evaluate the trade‑off between water use and electricity demand. Diesel Backups and Air Quality Most people never see the diesel generators that sit behind modern data centers, but local residents may certainly hear and smell them. These rows of engines are there to satisfy strict reliability expectations: If the grid fails, the servers must stay on. Ren points out that even though backup generators are intended for rare emergency use, they can still matter locally. Diesel units emit high levels of nitrogen oxides and fine particulate pollution when they run; the risks of air pollution are especially acute in communities already overburdened by highways, ports, warehouses, or power plants. Diesel units emit high levels of nitrogen oxides and fine particulate pollution when they run; the risks of air pollution are especially acute in communities already overburdened by highways, ports, warehouses, or power plants. Regulators therefore need to ask where the generators are located, how often they may run (including tests), and how their emissions combine with existing local burdens. That cumulative perspective is particularly important in places like Northern Virginia’s “data‑center alley” and emerging clusters such as Box Elder County, where concerns about air quality and heat are now intertwined. And Amazon Web Services (AWS) data center in Ashburn, Virginia. Wikimedia Cleaner options exist. Large‑scale battery storage paired with renewables can provide fast, clean backup for at least short outages, while cleaner fuels or stringent emissions controls can reduce pollution from any remaining generators. But, as with water and energy, these alternatives must be designed into the project from the start; communities rarely get a chance to renegotiate once the concrete is poured. Chart showing data center power demand in the United States over time. RCraig09/Wikimedia Land, Jobs, and the Local Bargain A large AI campus does not just draw electricity and water; it also remakes land and local economies. A large AI campus does not just draw electricity and water; it also remakes land and local economies. A single facility can convert hundreds of acres of farmland or open space into fenced compounds, access roads, and electrical yards. For some towns, this is a welcome sign of investment; for others, it feels like an industrial takeover. Construction brings a wave of temporary jobs, but long‑term employment at a highly automated facility may be modest relative to its footprint, especially once maintenance and security personnel are established. Generous tax incentives can further dilute the fiscal benefits that were used to justify the project in the first place. Urban‑planning scholar and University of Michigan Assistant Professor Xiaofan Liang tells The Earth & I that some of the most important local impacts—shifts in housing markets, transportation patterns, land‑use change, or social cohesion—may only emerge over longer time horizons and are still poorly documented. Because these changes are hard to quantify and fall outside the immediate permitting checklist, they are often overlooked during approvals. Many jurisdictions currently permit data centers under broad industrial or commercial labels. Liang argues that the underlying concerns—energy demand, water consumption, noise, setbacks, environmental impacts—are not entirely new to zoning, but the scale and intensity of those impacts can be far greater than for traditional industrial uses. Cities may be able to gain finer-grained control over siting and design by asking for explicit zoning language for AI data centers while following new practice reports from planning associations. For communities trying to negotiate better outcomes, Liang suggests starting with a big-picture understanding of how a data center actually works—asking which regional power lines and water systems it will depend on, what the development life cycle will look like, and which agencies or companies will control each decision point. Practical tools such as public hearings, community benefit agreements, and clear permit conditions can then turn that knowledge into leverage. What a Community-Integrated Data Center Looks Like Ren argues that a truly community-integrated data center would be designed around several elements: Local infrastructure limits, not just the company’s computing roadmap Use of water sources that do not diminish community water security Reporting both peak and annual water and energy demand Choosing cooling technologies based on local grid and climate conditions Investing in shared infrastructure whenever the facility creates new burdens. Moreover, for backup power, a community-integrated data center would minimize diesel reliance where feasible and carefully evaluate local air quality impacts. A truly community-integrated data center would be designed around local infrastructure limits, not just the company’s computing roadmap. Liang also sees two complementary ideas emerging under the same banner. The first is the concept of community-integrated data centers as large commercial facilities that deliberately build community goals into their projects. That can mean outreach or sustainability teams, formal community benefit agreements, funding for nonprofit initiatives such as digital access programs, and architecture and streetscapes that genuinely fit the surrounding neighborhood. The second idea is more experimental but goes further and imagines community‑run data centers. These remain mostly conceptual, but researchers are exploring the technical feasibility of smaller‑scale, locally controlled facilities that process local data under local governance. In these visions, a data center might reuse an abandoned factory, share a building with a workforce‑training center, bundle rooftop solar and broadband upgrades, and be governed through community institutions rather than only corporate boards. Around the world, existing projects hint at what this future could look like in practice. In Odense, Denmark, for instance, Meta’s data center was designed with heat recovery in mind. Instead of simply releasing warm exhaust air, the facility captures low‑temperature waste heat from its servers and feeds it into the city’s district heating network via large heat pumps, donating up to 100,000 megawatt‑hours of heat each year—enough to warm thousands of local homes. In Hong Kong and several US metros, cloud providers now cool data centers with recycled or nonpotable water, developed in partnership with local utilities, to reduce pressure on drinking water supplies. These projects are far from perfect, but they show that with planning and partnership, resource footprints can be dramatically reduced. Choosing the Future of the Cloud In the debate over the unknowns of AI data centers, certain questions arise: What if projects started with a mindset to size the facility to fit within local grid and water constraints? What if the center was designed to use reclaimed water and on-site storage to shave peak demand? Other concerns are to equip them with batteries and minimal diesel, and connect to nearby homes, farms, or greenhouses via a system that turns waste heat into a community asset. Finally, can the centers be paired with investments in broadband, workforce training, and local public spaces? In these scenarios, a data center next door might still be controversial—but it would look less like a looming industrial threat and more like an unusual but honest neighbor, one that does its share to keep the community livable in a warming world. The AI boom guarantees that more data centers are coming. The question is whether they arrive as opaque, resource‑hungry bunkers, or as carefully planned pieces of shared infrastructure. Treating data centers as grid citizens and potential community partners—rather than invisible clouds floating above the physical world—opens up room for negotiation and creativity. The examples already emerging in places like Odense, Quincy, and Hong Kong show that when communities, regulators, and companies make different choices early enough, the cloud can support the ground beneath it instead of overwhelming it. *Dhanada K. Mishra is a PhD in Civil Engineering from the University of Michigan and is currently working as the Managing Director of a Hong Kong-based AI startup for building technology for the sustainability of built infrastructure (www.raspect.ai). He writes on environmental issues, sustainability, the climate crisis, and built infrastructure.

Expert Warns of Earlier, Longer Wildfire Seasons—Calls for “Hand in Paw” Solutions By Gordon Cairns* Beavers are “snow drought” busters. ljphoto7/iStock Across the American West, winter is no longer what it used to be. In 2026, scientists warned of a historic “snow drought”—a phenomenon where snowpack fails to accumulate even when precipitation occurs, often because temperatures are too warm for snow to form. This shift, they said, may not be just a seasonal anomaly—it could be a structural change, with cascading consequences for water, ecosystems, and wildfire risk. Snow deficits or droughts—which have also been seen in Europe and eastern Russia, according to a 2020 study—sit at the intersection of climate science, water security, and ecological resilience. In the American West, it raises urgent questions about how these communities can adapt as their “frozen reservoirs” disappear. Irreplaceable Snowpacks Snowpack functions as the West’s most important natural reservoir. While lakes and man-made reservoirs hold a small fraction of the water needed each year, the mountain snowpacks supply up to 75% of annual water resources as they slowly melt through the spring and summer months. In recent years—and dramatically in 2026—snow levels across much of the western US region fell, with some areas reporting near-record lows due to unusually warm winters and precipitation falling as rain instead of snow. A Rainy Winter for Many In California, state-of-the-art technology devised in conjunction with NASA—using lasers to record snow depth down to 3 cm (1.1 in)—has uncovered a worrying picture. This spring, snow was only 18% of the average for the time of year. Mountain lakes in California can’t make up for water losses from low snowpack. trekandshoot/iStock Unfortunately, California is not alone. According to the latest US Drought Monitor, almost two-thirds of the lower 48 states are now grappling with the impact of the most widespread spring dry spell since the monitor began recording 26 years ago. This spring, snow [in California] was only 18% of the average for the time of year. The consequences are already unfolding. Without snow cover, landscapes dry earlier, vegetation becomes more flammable, and wildfire seasons begin sooner and last longer. Already this year, wildfires have ignited unusually early across multiple regions, with hundreds of thousands of acres burned before spring even began—an alarming preview of what may become the new normal. The Issue of Timing The snow drought problem is twofold: Not only is there less water collected from snowmelt, but the timing of when the snow falls is making the impact worse. In an interview given earlier this year, Dr. Emily Fairfax, an eco-hydrologist and assistant professor at the University of Minnesota, explains that while the issue of not having enough water is clear, “[t]he timing is a little more nuanced.” “If we have all of our precipitation coming too soon, and then we have a big dry period,—or if we oscillate back and forth between rain, snow, warm, cold, warm, cold—the end result is that we just don't have as much water at the end of the winter—and we've lost a lot, either to downstream runoffs that are premature or to evaporation,” she says. Earlier Fire Season Many US states are now experiencing the first devastating effect of snow drought—an earlier fire season. Fairfax explains that forests comprising mostly conifers and evergreens are increasingly becoming drought-stressed: “You move into spring, you move into summer and they are already highly flammable, very dry fuels. You also have an effect of when your annuals die off in the fall and then leaf litter with all this brush and dead material. It's normally a nice insulating layer and habitat for a lot of really critical species, but it also becomes excessively dry, so you have a really flammable understory … underneath very flammable overstories and canopies.” She adds: “There are multiple layers of pathways for fire to move quickly through entire landscapes.” Many US states are now experiencing the first devastating effect of snow drought—an earlier fire season. Cottonwood Fire in Nebraska, March 13, 2026, marked an early fire season. Wikimedia Downstream Effects Just as mountain streams eventually trickle down to the sea, the snow drought’s impact will eventually hit the cities, towns, and farms of the plains. Already, restrictions on the water supplied to some municipalities and agricultural concerns are increasing. The US Department of the Interior’s Bureau of Reclamation has issued an April–September 2026 water supply forecast for the Yakima Basin, which covers 10% of south-central Washington state. It predicts that those with pro-ratable water rights—such as cities, irrigation districts, individual farms and industries—will be receiving less than half of their full water allotments. It is expected other states will soon follow suit. And the impact will not just be on the water supply but also on power. The forecast for Lake Powell—a reservoir on the Colorado River in Utah and Arizona—shows minimum power pool elevation being reached by December 2026. If the water drops below this point, the Glen Canyon Dam in Page, Arizona, which produces enough electricity to help supply the power needs for more than 350,000 homes, may no longer generate hydroelectricity. In late April, the Bureau of Reclamation announced additional water flow to mitigate the losses to this reservoir and dam. The Small but Mighty Beaver Countermeasures to snow drought range from forest thinning, prescribed burns, and regenerative land practices to building climate-resilient infrastructure. But Fairfax believes the best and most cost-effective solutions come from nature itself—such as employing the humble beaver. These semi-aquatic rodents have been a hydrologic force on the American continent for millions of years, she notes. They’ve been “doing things like restoring our rivers, building wetlands, supporting [as] ecosystem engineers. … That's one way to help slow the water down and make it accessible when we need it, without having to completely control everything ourselves.” “Because honestly,” she adds, “we don't necessarily have the time or the money or the manpower to do it on our own. But luckily, nature can be our biggest ally.” “Beavers and climate change actually go hand in paw. The beavers build wetlands, and these wetlands are exceptionally good at slowing water down, keeping it on the landscape, and routing it onto the floodplain, where it could seep into the soil and recharge those aquifers.” “Beavers and climate change actually go hand in paw. The beavers build wetlands, and these wetlands are exceptionally good at slowing water down, keeping it on the landscape, and routing it onto the floodplain, where it could seep into the soil and recharge those aquifers.” In fact, beavers are the perfect partners, Fairfax continues: “Beaver wetlands are unique because they're the only wetland type that has an engineer on staff 24/7/365, permanently dedicated to keeping that part of the land wet, healthy, and soggy.” A beaver dam in Spearfish, South Dakota. sstevens3/iStock Separately, research is being done at Stanford University on where to reintroduce beaver populations in the West, says a 2025 article in Water Online. The North American beaver population has fallen from an estimated 60 million to 400 million in the mid-1800s to roughly 10 million to 15 million today “because of extensive hunting, habitat degradation, and trapping,” the article said. Human endeavors can help, as well, Fairfax notes: “We can engage in restoration; we can try to restore large wood to our rivers. We can do riparian planting, basically planting the things that like to live alongside creeks, so that they can help slow water down, too.” She adds that changing our behavior, from where we allow livestock to graze, to designing zonal developments giving rivers enough space, will also have a positive impact. “Rivers can serve a lot of purposes, and today one of the most important purposes is helping us deal with these increasingly dry winters and flammable springs and summers.” “Challenges like these often feel like they are out of our control, but they’re not,” she concludes. “If every county, if every stream just inches a little bit more towards health, that can have a really cascading difference. And it can be something we can see.” *Gordon Cairns is a freelance journalist and teacher of English at the Forest Schools, based in Scotland.

Are Modern Lifestyles Fueling a Global Health Shift? By Mark Smith* The rates of a variety of cancer types are rising among younger people. iStock Medical experts around the globe are engaged in vital detective work: to figure out why cancer is increasingly developing among young people. Meanwhile, lifestyle is coming under suspicion as one of the possible contributing factors. One study conducted by medical experts connected to several institutions, including Harvard's T.H. Chan School of Public Health, described early-onset cancer as an "emerging global epidemic." The American Cancer Society (ACS) projects that the number of global early-onset cancer cases will surge by a staggering 31% by 2030, accompanied by a 21% increase in global young adult mortality. According to the data, the most common early-onset cancers (EOCs) include breast, lung, stomach, and colorectal cancers, followed by thyroid, pancreatic, and liver cancers. The race is on to find what is driving the phenomenon. But with such a complex disease, a single specific driver is hard to pin down, and much remains unknown. A doctor examining X-ray images. iStock Is It Just Better Detection Rates? Cancer develops when cellular DNA mutates, causing cells to divide uncontrollably, forming a tumor in an organ or a blood cancer such as leukemia. The possible contributing factors to such a mutation are varied, ranging from family history to how we live our lives. Figuring out the impact of the factors we can control—such as diet and exercise—may be important in designing prevention strategies that can reduce the incidence of cancer. Although overall cancer mortality is dropping due to better treatments, alarmingly, the number of new diagnoses in young people is climbing by roughly 1% to 2% annually. Dr. Meredith Shiels is a senior investigator at the US National Cancer Institute. She led a landmark study that analyzed trends for 33 cancer types among different age groups. The results showed that the incidence of 14 cancer types increased among people under 50, with nine of those types also increasing in older populations. The results showed that the incidence of 14 cancer types increased among people under 50, with nine of those types also increasing in older populations. Speaking to The Earth & I, she said there are several factors that can influence cancer incidence rates, including changes in screening and detection and alterations to cancer classification systems. But sadly, cases are not the only thing moving: Deaths for specific types are also creeping up. Shiels noted that because young adult deaths for certain varieties—like colorectal and uterine cancers—are also increasing, it pointed to a genuine shift, not merely one built on better, or at least different, detection rates. Dr. Meredith Shiels. Photo courtesy of Meredith Shiels However, she cautioned that there is still not enough evidence to understand what the primary drivers are, due partly to a lack of data specifically about younger people. “Much of what we know about cancer risk comes from studies of older people, where cancer risk is highest, so we know a lot less about cancers that occur at earlier ages,” she said. “It is likely that the same factors that contribute to average onset cancer risk also contribute to early-onset cancer risk, but we cannot say definitively that that is the full explanation.” Shiels pointed to a recent analysis carried out in the UK that showed that established behavioral risk factors are unlikely to fully explain rising early-onset cancer rates. Trying on hats to wear after chemotherapy. Wikimedia Examining Lifestyle Factors While the specific array of factors contributing to elevated rates of cancer in the young is not yet known, lifestyle has increasingly come under the spotlight. While the specific array of factors contributing to elevated rates of cancer in the young is not yet known, lifestyle has increasingly come under the spotlight. Dr. Despina Handolias is a consultant medical oncologist based in Melbourne, Australia, and a member of the Australasian Society of Lifestyle Medicine. A global advocate and researcher in lifestyle medicine, she speaks widely on how lifestyle factors can drive the cellular mutations that are the building blocks of tumors. Dr. Despina Handolias. Photo courtesy of Despina Handolias She says research points to a complex picture that includes an accumulation of environmental and lifestyle factors that begin early in life. “The most significant lifestyle drivers include dietary factors and physical inactivity,” she told The Earth & I. “This is particularly relevant to the commonest EOCs, including breast and digestive system cancers [and] particularly colorectal cancer. Dietary factors that pose the most risk include ultraprocessed and snack foods, processed meats and red meat, and sugar-sweetened beverages.” Handolias said that when diets high in these food categories and low in whole plant foods are adopted from an early age, it disrupts the gut microbiome—the ecosystem of trillions of bacteria in our digestive tract that regulates health. Over time, this diet exposes the body to cancer-causing molecules while reducing the diversity of these helpful gut bacteria. This cumulative damage alters the body's metabolic and immune systems, creating an environment where cancer is much more likely to develop. “Sedentary lifestyles and lack of physical activity affect immune system surveillance. Metabolic factors and gut microbiome health are also likely to significantly impact the rates of EOC,” she added. Experts also cite other contributing factors when it comes to rising rates. Prof. Marc Gunter is a leading chair in cancer epidemiology at Imperial College London, specializing in how diet, obesity, and lifestyle habits drive tumor development. He said obesity was an established risk factor for at least 13 cancer types—some of which have been rising in younger people, including cancer of the uterus, colorectal cancer, and pancreatic cancer. Dr. Marc Gunter. Photo courtesy of Marc Gunter “Recently, our research has shown that excess weight is associated with higher risk of colorectal cancer below age 55. As obesity has been increasing in many parts of the world for the past few decades, it is likely that this explains at least part of the rise in cancers in younger people.” He said it was not yet fully understood how obesity causes cancer, but added that many of the metabolic and hormonal changes often seen in people with obesity—such as higher levels of the hormones insulin and estrogen—as well as inflammation, can contribute to cancer development and so are likely causes, at least for some cancers. While the recurring consensus is to exercise caution in classifying cancer rates and their causes, many experts agree that healthy lifestyle habits can help reduce risk and improve overall well-being. They also argue that individuals need greater access to the social, economic, and environmental conditions that support healthy choices. While the recurring consensus is to exercise caution in classifying cancer rates and their causes, many experts agree that healthy lifestyle habits can help reduce risk and improve overall well-being. Stephanie McBurnett, RDN, serves as the lead nutrition educator for the Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine, a US-based health advocacy group of over 17,000 doctors. Her work focuses on translating cancer data into public health policy and actionable, plant-based cancer prevention strategies. Stephanie McBurnett, RDN. Photo courtesy of Stephanie McBurnett She echoed the view of other experts that there are multiple reasons for the cancer increases, but echoed colleagues that practical lifestyle changes matter. She said: “The most protective habits are simple but powerful—eat more fiber-rich plant foods, move daily, avoid tobacco, limit alcohol, maintain a healthy weight, and prioritize sleep.” She said ideally such habits should begin in childhood, but that it was “never too late.” She added that societies cannot make prevention solely the responsibility of individuals, and that healthy choices must be “accessible, affordable, and built into the places” where people live, learn, work, and receive care. “Prevention should not be a privilege,” she said. “Prevention should not be a privilege.” “Communities need culturally relevant education, affordable healthy foods, safe places to be active, and policies that make the healthy choice the easy choice.” Avoid a “Blame Game” Crucially, many experts warn against letting the spotlight on lifestyle devolve into a “blame game.” Identifying modern habits as potential contributing factors does not mean young cancer patients brought the illness upon themselves. Many experts suggest the rise is being fueled in part by systemic, generational shifts in our food systems, hidden environmental exposures, and altered childhood microbiomes which—when combined with our individual genetics—create forces that no single person can entirely control. The rise in cancer among the young is an undoubtedly complex picture—and whatever their area of specific expertise, many experts are cautious about attributing it to any one driver alone. Genetic predisposition, environment, and lifestyle factors form a complex tapestry that medicine is still endeavoring to fully understand. But with the acceptance that more research is needed among the young, as well as a push to make positive lifestyle options more widely available and accessible to everyone, there is hope that rates that are currently going up could one day be brought down again. *Mark Smith is a journalist and author from the UK. He has written on subjects ranging from business and technology to world affairs, history, and popular culture for the Guardian, BBC, Telegraph, and magazines in the United States, Europe, and Southeast Asia.

Katharine Wilkinson’s Call for Courage, Care, and Connection By Yasmin Prabhudas* Katharine K. Wilkinson (left) with Ayana Elizabeth Johnson. Photo courtesy of Dr. Katharine K. Wilkinson Emotions are the driving force behind climate action, according to author, teacher, and climate activist Dr. Katharine K. Wilkinson. Indeed, words like “heartbreak,” “courage,” “healing,” and “belonging” appear throughout her work like signposts marking the heart’s journey—sometimes her own—from climate despair to commitment to self, nature, and community. Wilkinson, who lives in Atlanta, Georgia, outlines her unique way of seeing the world—and our place in it—in her book Climate Wayfinding, a guide to moving from “climate ache to action.” Katharine K. Wilkinson at the 2026 PEN America World Voices Festival on the “Climate Solutions” panel, May 1, 2026. Wikimedia She has also coedited, with Dr. Ayana Elizabeth Johnson, the best-selling All We Can Save, an anthology of articles featuring 60 women climate leaders, and was involved in the Drawdown project, which provides solutions to global warming. In addition, Wilkinson cofounded and leads the All We Can Save Project, consisting of programs to support climate engagement; she does this amid other activities, such as podcast cohosting, speaking, and group facilitating. Wilkinson recently toured the US to promote Climate Wayfinding, published in early May 2026, holding interactive events at venues such as the Climate Museum in New York City, the US’s first institution dedicated to climate change. Her collaboration with the museum reflects a common purpose—engaging people to transform culture to promote climate action. A Dawning Realization In her new book, Climate Wayfinding, Wilkinson recalls the defining moment that led to her climate engagement. During one of many school visits to the forests of North Carolina, her class was led to “a totally denuded ridgeside.” “The clear-cut was a barren gash in the Southern Appalachian ecosystem I had come to love. I felt my heart fissure as I looked out on what was traditionally—rightfully—Cherokee land, once canopied by towering chestnut trees before the days of colonization and forced removals, then ubiquitous logging and deadly chestnut blight. So many layers of tragedy,” she writes. Seeing clear-cutting in North Carolina led to Katharine Wilkinson’s climate activism. iStock “The brutality of the extractive economy gripped me. I ached with realization about the gap, the gulf, between how we can do things … and how we do do things—taking it all, land be damned. I shuddered with shame from not having been more awake before, thinking clear-cuts were a wrenching, awful problem in faraway places like the Amazon, but not here.” “I was heartbroken, angry, activated, and I yearned for a sense of belonging on, and with, this planet we call home.” “This was the most pivotal instance in a series of experiences that had helped me understand the harms of industrial forestry and agriculture, fossil fuels, and climate change. … I also came to see my own entanglement in those systems. … I was heartbroken, angry, activated, and I yearned for a sense of belonging on, and with, this planet we call home,” she writes. Katharine K. Wilkinson in South Carolina. Photo courtesy of Dr. Katharine K. Wilkinson Building Emotional Engagement This journey led her to create books and initiatives to help people find their own path—and discover their passion for the natural world. In a Q&A interview leading up to this year’s publication of Climate Wayfinding, Wilkinson explains how people need deeper support to help them with their own climate journey. This realization helped spark the Climate Wayfinding materials, which are designed to guide people “through reflection and discovery, and toward the next steps beyond the final chapter,” she says in the interview. Feelings are an important part of driving action, she maintains. In Climate Wayfinding, Wilkinson recognizes that “there is a swelling of grief, anxiety, fear, anger, numbness, shame, exhaustion” about the state of the environment—all of which can lead to “burnout.” What makes a difference is working as individuals and groups to create a space to deal with difficult emotions. This, in turn, can “let the heart metabolize what is hard and to renew the wonder, reverence, and love that often live at the root of our participation.” Dealing with difficult emotions can lead to renewal of wonder, reverence, and love. Pexels Dealing with ‘Climate Overwhelm’ In the interview, Wilkinson explains how she personally deals with climate anxiety: “For me, climate overwhelm often feels like really deep grief. Recently, it was a 300-year-old oak tree in Savannah. … In defiance of community protests and local protections for the tree, Georgia Power rolled through and cut it down for a power line. “In the grand scheme, it’s small. … But there was something about that tree that reminded me of how business as usual runs roughshod over the magnificence of life. I found myself in tears. Over the years, I’ve learned that my heart can break—or it can break open. If I allow it, that grief becomes generative. It can call me in, if I give myself the space and support to truly feel it.“ Winning Hearts Is Key to Healing the Earth If anything is to change, more people must get involved in the challenge to overcome the climate crisis. “Change will require a much larger upwelling of people [who are] not just concerned, but lending their talents, voices, hearts, and hands to shaping the future. But the scale of the crisis can feel overwhelming. It can feel like too much for the human heart,” she says in the Q&A session. “We need spaces, practices, and community—to recognize that grief and anxiety are not weaknesses. They are powerful sources of motivation, if we don’t face them alone.” “Most people who are worried aren’t talking about it. There’s profound silence and isolation. That’s why we need spaces, practices, and community—to recognize that grief and anxiety are not weaknesses. They are powerful sources of motivation, if we don’t face them alone,” she explains. Storytelling Matters As humans, we are connected to the earth and to each other, Wilkinson writes in her book. “On so many levels, we need one another to take part in planetary healing, from cheering each other up to cheering each other on,” she says. People, she adds, can offer one another support through compassion, encouragement, and solidarity, as well as provide new perspectives and “infectious joy.” Katharine Wilkinson at TED. Photo courtesy of Dr. Katharine K. Wilkinson In Climate Wayfinding, Wilkinson talks about how human beings are storytellers and that the “collective climate story is a tale being told in real time, in our time.” She asks: “Do we see ourselves in it? Do we trust that we belong in the narrative—not as bystanders, victims, or villains, but as actors in the most fundamental sense? Do we dare to take up the pen or paint a fresh scene or sing new verses?” “Ultimately, we are the shapers of this story, right from within its pages,” she concludes. Encouraging Community Participation A series of exercises in Climate Wayfinding encourages readers to reflect on their own values and how they express them. They are then prompted to reach out to someone in their “kindred community” to explore climate projects. They are asked to create a list of projects or campaigns that are aligned with their values and sign up for an upcoming opportunity. They could offer to support a group or provide promotional help. Individuals are also invited to take action in the community. This could include organizing a compost pickup in their neighborhood, planning a campaign for their employer to move to fossil-fuel–free retirement savings plans, door-knocking to get out the climate vote during elections, and volunteering to help elders prepare for emergencies. Solutions are Possible Wilkinson is cautiously optimistic about the future. “Many solutions are already saving money, creating jobs, and cutting emissions. We also now have something that once seemed unthinkable: a climate majority,” she says in the Q&A session. “So, the questions become: If the solutions exist, why aren’t they scaling fast enough? And if most people recognize climate change as a problem, why are so many still on the sidelines? … Individual actions matter. But collective change is more powerful. We make all the rest of the solutions possible.” *Yasmin Prabhudas is a freelance journalist working mainly for nonprofit organizations, labor unions, the education sector, and government agencies.

And, if Not, Must Societies Impoverish Themselves to Stop Climate Change? By Jana Perez-Angelo* A bulldozer digging into a mountain of coal at the Ljubljana Power Station, Slovenia. Both degrowth and green growth advocates seek to reduce nations’ dependence on fossil fuels. Petar Milosevic/Wikipedia For more than two centuries, our standard of living, measured by our national income, has been the defining measure of economic success, associated with rising incomes, expanding opportunities, and proliferating comforts. But just as much, it has been a measure of the planet’s human-caused ecological degradation—what with a vast vortex of plastic waste clogging the Pacific Ocean, the expansion of Earth-warming carbon dioxide and methane, the startling decline of certain animal and plant populations worldwide, and microplastics sprinkled liberally from the Arctic to the deep ocean to the human brain. Needless to say, as climate change accelerates and planetary limits become increasingly visible, the assumption that national incomes can rise endlessly is being seriously questioned. This tension sits at the heart of a growing debate: Can the economy keep expanding on a finite planet? On one side sit the “degrowth” thinkers, who argue that saving the biosphere means wealthy nations must intentionally scale back their industrial output and consumption. This would mean taking the radical step of deliberately reducing countries’ national income or gross domestic product (GDP). This theory says that material consumption, especially in everything related to fossil fuels, heavy industry, aviation, and fast fashion, would have to fall for a healthy planetary ecology to be sustained. In contrast, so-called “green growth” advocates insist that human ingenuity, powered by fast-paced technological innovation, total electrification, and smart market incentives, can break the link between economic success and ecological destruction. In their view, societies can decouple prosperity from environmental harm, allowing economies to continue growing while emissions actually fall. The Case for Degrowth: Embracing Less by Design The core philosophy of degrowth began decades ago by scholars, according to Degrowth.info, which allies with the Research and Degrowth International and other organizations. The concept of degrowth starts with a simple ecological fact: The Earth is a closed system with strict physical boundaries. Degrowth scholars argue that treating endless economic expansion as a non-negotiable goal is completely incompatible with a stable planet. Today, an organization called Earth Overshoot Day even tracks to the day when “humanity’s demand for ecological resources and services in a given year exceeds what Earth can regenerate in that year.” In 2025, the overshoot day was July 24. The Trap of Total Growth Critics of conventional GDP accounting argue that growth statistics often fail to distinguish between activities that improve human well-being and activities that merely generate economic transactions. “Growth is a sort of absolute number,” pointed out Kate Aronoff, a staff writer with The New Republic, during a panel discussion on climate and capitalism at Columbia University. “If there’s an oil spill, growth [GDP] goes up because people need to clean it up. We must think a little bit about what the content of growth is.” Many economists have argued that GDP alone is an incomplete measure of societal progress. Environmental disasters, pollution cleanup efforts, and climate-related reconstruction can all contribute to GDP even while reflecting ecological damage and social costs. For this reason, many economists have argued that GDP alone is an incomplete measure of societal progress. Degrowth advocates point out that historically, making things more efficient rarely cuts down on total resource use. Economists call this the “rebound effect” or Jevons paradox, an established macroeconomic principle detailing how microeconomic resource efficiency improvements can inadvertently expand overall consumption. When technology makes a resource cheaper and more efficient to use, society usually ends up using far more of it in the long run. Think of fuel-efficient planes: As flying got cheaper, the explosion of global flights completely wiped out any environmental benefit from better engines. Targeting Excess, Not Well-being It is vital to understand that degrowth isn’t about forcing society into a miserable, chaotic recession. Instead, it is envisioned as a planned, democratic reduction of energy and material use especially in wealthy nations. The strategy targets structurally wasteful, high-carbon industries rather than cutting things that make people genuinely happy. Proponents argue society should intentionally shrink sectors like: A cattle yard in Argentina. Degrowth proponents say the world’s industrial meat production needs to be sharply reduced. Jorge Royan/Wikipedia fast fashion and electronics, which are built with planned obsolescence industrial, grain-fed meat production private aviation and oversized, gas-guzzling sport utility vehicles. “Certain parts of the economy need to grow, and certain parts need to shrink.” “For example, a degrowth economic model would likely look to cut down beef production,” Matt Orsagh, cofounder of RISE Sustainable Investment Consultancy, told a 2024 Harvard Law School Forum on Corporate Governance. “If beef production and consumption significantly declined, the result would prove beneficial to climate change mitigation (less methane and CO2 from beef transport), water resources (beef production is very water intensive), [and] land use (many acres of forests are cleared for cattle grazing), and [would] result in less nitrogen and phosphorus leaking into our waterways (pesticides on crops to feed cattle have nasty consequences).” At the March 2026 Columbia University forum, Aronoff said, “I don’t think it’s accurate to say that the entire economy has to degrow. Rather, certain parts of the economy need to grow, and certain parts need to shrink. We need fewer fossil fuels, for instance.” Degrowth advocates generally argue for selectively reducing activities that generate large environmental costs while expanding sectors that improve human welfare, such as renewable energy, public transportation, education, healthcare, and ecosystem restoration. Their goal is to reduce material and energy throughput in the economy while maintaining or improving quality of life. The Case for Green Growth: Reinventing Prosperity On the other side, green growth advocates argue that halting economic expansion is a political dead end and completely unnecessary. They view the climate crisis not as a fatal flaw of growth itself, but as a system design error, a failure of market pricing and technology that can be engineered away. The Reality of Absolute Decoupling The cornerstone of the green growth argument is “absolute decoupling.” This is the holy grail of green economics: a state where a country’s GDP continues to climb while its total environmental footprint and emissions steadily drop. “Some countries have reduced their CO2 emissions while increasing their gross domestic product (absolute decoupling).” Supporters of green growth argue that absolute decoupling is already occurring in several advanced economies. “Over the past decade,” wrote Jefim Vogel and Jason Hickel in Lancet Planetary Health in 2023, “some countries have reduced their CO2 emissions while increasing their gross domestic product (absolute decoupling). Politicians and media have hailed this as green growth.” While experts still argue over the speed of this shift, the structural data is verified. According to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Sixth Assessment Report, more than 30 advanced nations, including the UK, France, Germany, and the US, have successfully decoupled absolute territorial emissions from GDP expansion. This has been achieved largely by shifting toward digital, service, and knowledge-based economies. Market Dynamics and Technological Innovation Advocates of green growth contend that competitive markets can accelerate the deployment of new technologies at unprecedented speed when supported by effective public policy. They point to the dramatic declines in the costs of solar panels, wind turbines, and battery storage over the past two decades as evidence that innovation, investment, and economies of scale can rapidly transform entire industries. Canada’s largest coal-fired power plant, the Belledune Generating Station, is located in the Atlantic province of New Brunswick. Both degrowthers and green growthers seek to replace such plants with renewable resources. Quinton Soloviev/Wikipedia “For the first time,” said Bloomberg climate reporter Akshat Rathi, “humanity has a plan for how to transform at least one major part of the economy—the energy system—over the next few decades. Reforming capitalism might be the only practical way to get to zero emissions quickly.” Proponents also argue that government policy can steer private capital toward low-carbon development. Carbon-pricing systems, clean-energy incentives, emissions regulations, and industrial policy have increasingly been used around the world to encourage investment in renewable energy, electrification, and other climate solutions. “If you look at where [climate] solutions are scaling,” Rathi said, “it’s a combination of people, policy, and technology coming together to make the capitalist system work.” China, for example, has become one of the world’s largest investors in low-carbon technologies, directing hundreds of billions of dollars annually toward renewable energy, electric vehicles, and related infrastructure—even while keeping 3,100 coal-fired power plants on line and several hundred more in planning or development. Government policies can reshape the private sector. Structural implementation has progressed to where nearly 30% of global greenhouse gas emissions are now covered by carbon-pricing systems, though the overall weighted average price globally remains far below target thresholds. Evaluating the Tensions: Speed, Feasibility, and Justice To find a realistic path forward, we must look past the slogans and carefully weigh the trade-offs on both sides. Modern financial systems, labor markets, pension funds, and public budgets have largely been built around expectations of continual economic expansion. The principal attraction of the degrowth approach is its directness. Rather than waiting for future technological breakthroughs, it seeks immediate reductions in resource extraction, energy consumption, and greenhouse gas emissions. Advocates argue that this approach more closely aligns economic activity with ecological limits and shifts attention toward measures of success like public health, community well-being, and ecosystem stability rather than GDP alone. Its greatest challenge, however, is political and economic feasibility. Modern financial systems, labor markets, pension funds, and public budgets have largely been built around expectations of continual economic expansion, making deliberate contraction difficult to implement without enormous disruption. Green growth, by contrast, works largely within existing economic institutions. Because it promises continued prosperity while reducing environmental impacts, it enjoys considerably broader support from governments, businesses, and investors. Supporters believe that technological innovation, market incentives, and policy reforms can rapidly scale clean-energy solutions and decarbonize economies. Critics, however, argue that green growth may underestimate the scale of resource use required for continued expansion and may fail to reduce environmental pressures quickly enough if clean technologies merely supplement rather than replace fossil fuel systems. At the heart of the disagreement lies a deeper question about how societies should measure success. Degrowth proponents favor indicators focused on human and ecological well-being, while green growth advocates generally retain GDP as a central measure of progress, supplemented by environmental metrics. Both perspectives seek a prosperous future, but they differ fundamentally on whether that future requires consuming less or innovating more. Both perspectives seek a prosperous future, but they differ fundamentally on whether that future requires consuming less or innovating more. The global growth in GDP over the past 2,000-plus years. Many economists today are searching for a new measure of national wealth rooted in human and ecological well-being. Eurostat, OECD, IMF, and World Bank (2026); Bolt and van Zanden – Maddison Project Database 2023; Maddison Database 2010 – with major processing by Our World in Data The Political and Structural Backlash The most obvious roadblock for the degrowth model is political reality. Modern financial systems, banking, and pension funds are literally hardwired to require constant growth. Efforts to phase out major industries inevitably encounter resistance from workers, businesses, investors, and communities whose livelihoods depend on those sectors. Environmental advocates note that resistance to environmental regulations is common, regardless of the policy approach adopted. Established industries often lobby against measures that threaten existing business models, as illustrated by debates surrounding European vehicle-emissions standards and other climate regulations. Automakers, for example, fought back against European Union (EU) climate regulation. During negotiations on the EU’s 2035 car CO₂ rules, lobbying by governments and industry led to key concessions, including allowing CO₂‑neutral synthetic‑fuel vehicles and letting automakers average their fleets’ emissions so higher-emissions carmakers can “borrow” their cleaner peers’ performance. The Additive Energy Problem The biggest risk of relying purely on market-driven green growth is that clean energy might just become an addition to our energy system rather than a substitution for fossil fuels. “We can have tremendous growth in solar, wind, and renewables while continuing to add those resources to a fossil-fuel system that is still expanding,” Aronson warned. “Growth in renewables can be additive rather than substitutive. We have not yet figured out how to avoid that.” Thus, critics of green growth argue that the critical measure is not how much renewable energy is installed but whether fossil-fuel consumption declines as a result. Relying entirely on the private sector has clear limits. For example, despite massive federal funding, over 18 major legacy automakers rapidly scaled back, delayed, or outright canceled their domestic electric vehicle lines due to shifting consumer demand, high capital costs, and changing credit incentives. Critics further contend that some essential climate solutions, such as large-scale public transit systems, regional planning initiatives, and major infrastructure projects, often require sustained public-sector leadership because they may not generate the short-term financial returns typically sought by private investors. The Hybrid Way Forward: ‘Better’ over ‘Less’ The ongoing debate between degrowth and green growth suggests that the most effective path forward may not fit neatly into either camp. Instead, the most practical path forward is likely a hybrid model. The most practical path forward is likely a hybrid [degrowth/green growth] model. This middle ground means aggressively building out the clean-tech infrastructure championed by green growth while simultaneously adopting the targeted resource caps and quality-of-life metrics central to degrowth. It forces us to admit that while sectors like renewable grids, public transit, and healthcare need to grow exponentially, high-pollution and low-utility industries must be intentionally wound down. Regardless of philosophical differences, most analysts agree that meaningful progress must ultimately be measured by tangible outcomes: declining fossil fuel use, falling greenhouse gas emissions, healthier ecosystems, increasing electrification, and improved human well-being. Ultimately, the core challenge of the current generation is transitioning from an economy obsessed with “more” to an economy focused on “better.” The survival of the biosphere appears to depend on building economic systems that finally respect the physical boundaries of the planet. *Jana Perez-Angelo is a Denver-based writer and multidisciplinary creative and digital strategist passionate about brand storytelling and purpose-driven content. Her work has been featured in Relevant Magazine, Medium, and Faithful Life.

How Climate Change Is Disrupting Bird Migration Routes, Timing, and Survival By Francesca Bell* Starlings in flight over a herd of sheep. iStock Every spring and fall, billions of birds embark on one of nature's most remarkable journeys. Tiny songbirds cross continents, shorebirds traverse oceans, and raptors ride invisible currents over mountains and deserts. For countless generations, these migrations have followed seasonal rhythms that evolved over millennia. Today, however, those rhythms are changing. Climate change is altering temperatures, weather patterns, and ecological cycles around the globe. For migratory birds, whose survival depends on arriving at the right place at precisely the right time, even subtle environmental shifts can create profound challenges. “Birds have very long and complex life cycles, and [climate change] impacts all of that," says Dr. Morgan Tingley, professor of ecology and evolutionary biology at the University of California, Los Angeles. "I study how climate change is impacting birds throughout their lives." According to Tingley, changes in the global environment are likely affecting migration timing, migration routes, breeding success, and even food availability throughout birds' annual cycles. Racing against an Earlier Spring Snow geese and sandhill cranes wintering in New Mexico. iStock One of the most significant challenges facing migratory birds is timing. Across much of North America, spring is arriving earlier than it once did. Warmer temperatures cause trees to leaf out sooner, flowers to bloom earlier, and insects to emerge weeks ahead of historical schedules. Across much of North America, spring is arriving earlier than it once did. For migratory birds, this creates a problem, according to scientists who studied the matching of spring “green-up” periods with migratory timing. Birds innately seek to migrate to coincide with seasonal abundance. When they arrive on their breeding grounds, they must quickly establish territories, build nests, lay eggs, and raise their young while food supplies are at their peak. “Birds are trying to time the migration of when they arrive on their breeding grounds, and therefore timing when they create their nests and when they lay their eggs, to specifically the right time of year for when there's going to be the biggest seasonal availability of food,” Tingley explains. Baby thrushes waiting for food in the US. istock When climate change shifts spring conditions earlier, birds may arrive after that peaking has already begun. Scientists refer to this phenomenon as a “phenological mismatch”—a disconnect between biological events that historically occurred in synchrony. “So maybe every year, the leaves are coming out a little bit earlier and it's getting warmer a little earlier,” Tingley says. “And that can cause real problems for birds because it could mean that when birds actually arrive on their breeding grounds, that they're just a little behind where spring actually is.” Even a small mismatch can have consequences. If fewer insects are available when chicks hatch, this may impact survival rates and breeding success. Why Long-Distance Migrants Face Greater Risks Not all birds experience climate change in the same way. According to Tingley, approximately 70% of bird species found in the United States are migratory. Some travel only short distances between seasonal habitats. Others undertake astonishing journeys spanning entire hemispheres. Approximately 70% of bird species found in the United States are migratory. The lengths of these journeys matter. Birds that winter relatively close to their breeding grounds are likely to experience similar weather patterns throughout their migration route. Thus, if spring arrives early in one area, it is likely to come early in nearby areas too. But long-distance migrants do not have such an advantage. “The birds that migrate the farthest … are the ones that are honestly having the hardest trouble keeping up with climate change,” says Tingley. “If you're a bird that is living in Argentina and then migrating all the way back to New York in the springtime, those temperatures and those seasons are going to be very disconnected from each other,” Tingley explains. “So a bird in Argentina might not actually have the information it needs to arrive on time and keep up with climate change that's happening in New York.” As climates shift more rapidly, this disconnect may make it increasingly difficult for some species to synchronize migration with favorable breeding conditions. More Than a Timing Problem Climate change affects birds in ways that extend beyond migration schedules. Flamingos walking across shrinking wetlands. istock As temperatures rise, many species are shifting their geographic ranges in search of suitable habitat. Scientists have documented birds moving northward and to higher elevations as they track cooler conditions. As temperatures rise, many species are shifting their geographic ranges in search of suitable habitat. At the same time, habitats critical to migration are changing. Wetlands, coastal marshes, and stopover sites provide food and shelter for birds undertaking long journeys. Drought, land-use change, and rising sea levels threaten many of these habitats. Extreme weather events create additional hazards. Heat waves, hurricanes, severe storms, droughts, and wildfires can destroy habitat or force birds to alter migration routes. Wildfire smoke alone can affect air quality across vast regions, causing birds to expend more energy as they navigate around dangerous conditions. For species already coping with habitat loss and other environmental pressures, climate change acts as an additional stressor. “When birds become … mismatched with climate and seasonality, it could mean that, essentially, populations decline,” Tingley says. “And already in North America we've been having a lot of bird populations declining over the last 40 years.” Climate change, he adds, can compound those existing declines. Why Birds Matter Bird migration is one of the natural world's great wonders, but its importance extends beyond its beauty. Migrating geese are one of the natural world’s great wonders. iStock Birds play critical ecological roles. Many species consume insects that damage crops and forests. Others pollinate plants, disperse seeds, and contribute to healthy ecosystems. Their presence often serves as an indicator of environmental health. Tingley notes that people's connection to birds can also be deeply personal. Tingley notes that people's connection to birds can also be deeply personal. “For me, I've grown up just caring about nature and loving birds,” he says. “Bird watching is actually one of the fastest-growing hobbies in the United States … a lot of people [watch for] a specific bird or bird population.” For many people, the songs of birds signal changing seasons, connect them with the natural world, and bring great pleasure. A decline in bird populations represents not only an ecological loss but also a cultural and emotional one. “When we have decreased bird populations, it also means that our environment is just not going to work as well,” Tingley says. “That could mean that we have a lot of problems and can cause issues for things like food supply.” Supporting Birds in a Changing Climate Although the challenges are significant, scientists emphasize that actions taken today can help migratory birds adapt to a warming world. Protecting wetlands, conserving habitat, reducing pollution, and limiting other human-caused threats can strengthen bird populations and improve resilience. These traditional conservation measures remain among the most effective tools available. “Climate change is kind of like the stressor that is being added on top of everything else going on in the environment,” Tingley says. Because many of the most severe impacts of climate change lie in the future, conservation efforts undertaken now may help sustain bird populations through the decades ahead. As spring migration reaches its peak each year, Tingley encourages people to step outside and experience it firsthand. “If you are someone who has never actually gone bird watching,” he says, “this is the time.” Birdwatching is incredibly popular worldwide. Dara Miles Wilson/Wikimedia Watching a flock of birds cross the sky can inspire wonder. It can also serve as a reminder that Earth's ecosystems are deeply interconnected. A warming climate in one region can affect breeding success thousands of miles away, linking distant landscapes through the journeys of migratory birds. Their migrations reveal both the resilience and vulnerability of the natural world—and remind us that stewardship of the planet is a responsibility shared across continents, generations, and species. *Francesca Bell is a writer, editor, coach, and consultant with a passion for helping people communicate their ideas, stories, and experiences effectively. In addition to her editorial and consulting work, she writes fiction across multiple genres and is the founder of Bell Literary Services. To read her fiction, please visit her Substack at: https://franbwriting.substack.com/. To connect with her regarding any book projects or for coaching and consulting services, visit her website: https://www.bell-literary-services.com/. Sources SciLine. "Bird Migration and Climate Change: Interview with Dr. Morgan Tingley." April 29, 2026.