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"Apaches Delivering Hay at Fort Apache, Arizona" by National Archives Catalog is in the Public Domain. https://catalog.archives.gov/id/531124

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1492: Indigenous populations estimated at 3.8 million
1638: 30,000 Europeans and African slaves occupy the land
1750: 1.3 million Europeans and African slaves occupy the land expressing rapid increase in numbers
1800: Indigenous populations estimated at 1 million, expressing about 74% decline

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In a 1931 account with a Sioux man named Black Elk, Black Elk Speaks provides an intimate understanding of many Native American peoples' spiritual connection with the land. The "sacred hoop of the nation" is discussed as the grounding principle in which Indigenous peoples found their power. Everything on this Earth is encompassed within the loop, with the living tree at its center. From the cycle of manhood to the sun rising and falling, all aspects of nature can found in a circle. Also discussed in this account is the affect of Europeans coming to settle on Native occupied land.

"... It was in the summer of my twentieth year (1883) that I performed the ceremony of the elk. That fall, they say, the last of the bison herds was slaughtered by the Wasichus. I can remember when the bison were so many they could not be counted, but more and more Wasichus came to kill them until there were only heaps of bones scattered where they used to be".

Black Elk recalls the "crazed" Wasichus (Europeans) that killed bison with no real purpose. Native Americans would kill for what was necessary in terms of survival, taking only what was needed. This is in direct contrast to the Europeans coming and killing entire herds of bison, oftentimes leaving behind the bodies and taking only hides and tongues to sell for profit.

John G. Neihardt, Black Elk Speaks: Being the Life Story of a Holy Man on the Ogalala Sioux (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 1961), 1-3, 198-200, 203-204, 217-218. Reprinted from Black Elk Speaks, by John G. Neihardt, by permission of the University of Nebraska Press. Copyright 1932, 1959, 1961, 1975 by the John G. Neihardt Trust.

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"To Manage Wildfire, California Looks To What Tribes Have Known All Along" (full citation below). 

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In William M Denevan's report "The Pristine Myth: The Landscape of the Americas in 1492", evidence is presented that supports the theory of intentional burns carried out by Native Americans before European colonization.
Controlled fires have been used throughout history in cultural ceremonies by Indigenous peoples to encourage new growth and even entice wildlife to the area. These fires generated grasslands and prairies amidst forest areas and can be described in this 1983 quote by Michael Williams:

"... selective Indian burning thus promoted the mosaic quality of New England ecosystems, creating forests in many different states of ecological succession"

As these practices have been banned through the years as a result of colonization, wildfires have arguably become a much larger issue in our society. The linked NPR article above details the importance of integrating these practices back into our way of life, and the benefits we can reap from controlled burns.

"To Manage Wildfire, California Looks To What Tribes Have Known All Along" by Lauren Sommer. https://www.npr.org/2020/08/24/899422710/to-manage-wildfire-california-looks-to-what-tribes-have-known-all-along.
Denevan, W. (1992). The Pristine Myth: The Landscape of the Americas in 1492. Annals of the Association of American Geographers, 82 (3), 369-385. Retrieved September 3, 2021, from http://www.jstor.org/stable/2563351.

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On a cool February morning, around 60 people gathered in the Sierra Nevada foothills to take part in a ceremony that, for many decades, was banned.

Men and women from Native American tribes in Northern California stood in a circle, alongside university students and locals from around the town of Mariposa. Several wore bright yellow shirts made of flame-resistant fabric. For the next two days, the group would be carefully lighting fires in the surrounding hills.

Also sprinkled throughout the crowd were officials from the state government, which a century ago had largely prohibited California's tribes from continuing their ancient practice of controlled burns.

Fire has always been part of California's landscape. But long before the vast blazes of recent years, Native American tribes held annual controlled burns that cleared out underbrush and encouraged new plant growth.

Now, with wildfires raging across Northern California, joining other record-breaking fires from recent years, government officials say tackling the fire problem will mean bringing back "good fire," much like California's tribes once did.

"We don't put fire on the ground and not know how it's going to turn out," Ron Goode, tribal chairman of the North Fork Mono, tells the group. "That's what makes it cultural burning, because we cultivate."

When Western settlers forcibly removed tribes from their land and banned religious ceremonies, cultural burning largely disappeared. Instead, state and federal authorities focused on swiftly extinguishing wildfires.

But fire suppression has only made California's wildfire risk worse. Without regular burns, the landscape grew thick with vegetation that dries out every summer, creating kindling for the fires that have recently destroyed California communities. Climate change and warming temperatures make those landscapes even more fire-prone.

So, tribal leaders and government officials are forging new partnerships. State and federal land managers have hundreds of thousands of acres that need careful burning to reduce the risk of extreme wildfires. Tribes are eager to gain access to those ancestral lands to restore traditional burning.

"This is old land," Goode tells the circle. "It's been in use for thousands and thousands of years. And so what we're doing out here is restoring life."
Cultural burning
After a blessing, the group grabs shovels and chainsaws before heading out into the brush. It's late winter, and Mariposa's oak woodlands are dry and largely dormant, which is when controlled burning is safest.

"Sourberries," Goode says, spotting a bare-limbed, tangled bush. "Three-leaf sumac. There's a good one right there."

The group begins harvesting the long branches, which are used in traditional basket-weaving. It can take hundreds of branches to create just one piece.

Ray Gutteriez then takes a lighter to burn the plant, which encourages new growth that produces the flexible, straight branches prized by weavers. The plant is adapted to fire. Its root stock remains intact after burning and will quickly resprout after spring rains.

"All of our basket material needs to be tended to in some way," says Gutteriez, an ecologist and member of the Wuksachi Band of Mono Indians. "So they need to be burned, and they're used to being burned. And then next year, we'll probably have sticks that are 6, 7 feet tall in one year."

The group also burns a large field, several acres across, which is choked with dead grass.

"When I was a kid, I learned from my mother," Goode says of when he first started doing cultural burning. "But my mother got in trouble when she burned because the fire department didn't want her doing what we're doing today."
History of suppression
Before 1800, several million acres burned every year in California due to both Indigenous burning and lightning-caused fires, far more than even the worst wildfire years today. Tribes used low-grade fires to shape the landscape, encouraging certain plants to grow both for tribal use and to attract game.

The arrival of Western settlers dramatically changed the fire regime.

"They came with their concepts of being afraid of fire," Goode says. "They didn't understand fire in the sense of the tool that it could be to create and what it did to help generate and rejuvenate the land. So they brought in suppression."

The U.S. Forest Service infamously had the " 10 a.m. policy": to put out all forest fires by 10 a.m. the next day. Without regular fires to clear out underbrush, forests quickly became overgrown, creating the conditions for more extreme fires.

"A cultural burn is very spiritual," Keith Turner of the North Fork Mono says. "I used to fight fire for the Forest Service. And it was all about fighting fire."

Native American tribes were forcibly displaced, and their religious ceremonies were banned throughout the state by the early 1900s.

"There was actually a bounty on California Indian people," says Beth Rose Middleton Manning, professor of Native American studies at the University of California, Davis. "The governor had announced a war of extermination. So you have all that history, and it really fostered removal - settler ownership of Indigenous lands."

Now, Goode and other tribal leaders have been reaching out to ecologists, researchers and fire agencies about the importance of Indigenous knowledge.

"I think it's really important that we don't think about traditional burning as: what information can we learn from native people and then exclude people and move on with non-natives managing the land," Middleton Manning says. "But that native people are at the forefront and leading."
Forming partnerships
With wildfires causing record-breaking destruction in the last few years, California has committed to reducing the vegetation on a half-million acres. The federal government has set a similar goal. But there's a long way to go to reach those numbers, and controlled burning can be challenging in landscapes with too much fuel.

"Fire is a very wicked problem when you have years of suppression, because the longer you don't have fire in the system, the harder it is to put it back in," says Jonathan Long, ecologist with the Forest Service's Pacific Southwest Research Station. "So what we're trying to do is get these footholds."

In Northern California, the Karuk and Yurok tribes have partnered with the Forest Service to manage land for traditional values and wildfire management. Studies have shown that the two goals work hand in hand.

"By having these partnerships with the tribes, I think we can get that very frequent use of fire back in the system," Long says.

Jennifer Montgomery uses a drip torch, essentially a beefed-up lighter, to spread a line of fire at the corner of a field. As director of California's Forest Management Task Force, she knows the state is working against the clock to address its growing wildfire risk.

"It's an opportunity for me to see how effective cultural fire can be in addressing the issues we have around uncontrolled wildfire," Montgomery says. "The work that we did today, if a fire comes through there, it will drop down to the ground and frankly it may, given the right circumstances, just stop the fire entirely on its own."

Still, it's early days in developing these partnerships for many tribes, particularly after a long history of inequality created and reinforced by the government. Many California regional air regulators require burn permits over concerns about smoke and air pollution. Some counties offer special permits for tribes to facilitate their burns, but others don't.

Goode says he is hoping that bringing together a wide network of researchers, officials, students and tribes will help those conversations happen faster.

"I'm excited," he says, looking across the blackened field in the early evening light. "I'm elated. Because I'm looking around at what we've done. How beautiful the land is looking. And it is. It is."

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To Manage Wildfire, California Looks To What Tribes Have Known All Along

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On a cool February morning, around 60 people gathered in the Sierra Nevada foothills to take part in a ceremony that, for many decades, was banned. Men and women from Native American tribes in Northern California stood in a circle, alongside university students and locals from around the town of Mariposa.

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"Wood Bison Portrait" by Pete Nuji accessed via Unsplash is in the Public Domain.

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Native American populations had varying ecological practices before the arrival of settlers, but were united by only killing what was necessary when it came to wildlife. A combination of low hunting technology and scattered populations resulted in a wonderful balance of give and take between human and animal. By only hunting for hides and food when it was needed (and not in excess), wildlife populations were able to thrive and sustain their numbers for many generations. There was also an element of respect that Native Americans had for the other species living alongside them. This can be read about in depth by viewing the previous timeline addition "Black Elk Speaks". By understanding the sacred hoop of the nation, one can see how much the Native peoples valued their resources and handled them with care.

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"Some victims of the plume trade- card, 1913" by Royal Society for the Protection of Birds is licensed under CC-PD-Mark.

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One of the many major impacts that Europeans had when they settled in North America was the implementation of plume trading. The plume trade came to fruition in the 1870's/late 1800's when the United States of America was well established and had developed levels within its societal structure. With these levels came the need for affluent settlers to show their wealth, and bird feathers quickly became a symbol of status as many people found them quite stylish. Feathers were predominantly used to adorn hats and were considered to be the centerpiece of any woman's outfit at the time. The main participants in these trades were women, and they became immensely competitive in their looks. The competitive nature of displays of wealth caused hats to become more and more extravagant, and in effect meant that more birds were killed for their plumage.
Interestingly enough, it was not common knowledge that birds were being killed for their feathers. The milliners (those who crafted and sold these lavish hats) would tell their customers that only the molten feathers of birds were used in an effort to dispel any damage to the industry. Though, molten feathers were not nearly as nice-looking as the fresh ones obtained by hunters. The hunters were motivated by a sizable paycheck which was dependent on how many feathers they could supply, causing the extinction and near-extinction of many bird species from this time period. This is where the issue of overexploitation is apparent, since the industry thrived for many years as it pillaged bird populations. Status and wealth were the driving factors on all ends- from hunter to milliner to customer.

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The Tragedy of the Commons in the 21st Century

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The Tragedy of the Commons in the 21st Century

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In this article, the Tragedy of the Commons is put into a modern perspective by using examples from the current Covid-19 pandemic. In essence, the Tragedy of the Commons summarizes how humans, when sharing any resource/asset (in other words, a "common" resource), are going to utilize it in a self-serving manner. Over time, even the most abundant-appearing resources can become exhausted from overuse. Short supply of PPE and patient capacity in hospitals is compared to the example of overgrazing in pastures used in many discussions around the Tragedy of the Commons. As Garrett Hardin explains in his account, "a finite world can support only a finite population...". This summarizes how resources cannot be thought of as perfectly abundant since there will always be limits and restrictions further down the line. In the context of Covid-19, suggestions such as avoiding unnecessary/elective surgeries have been proposed in an effort to make more availability for victims of the epidemic. The tragedy can be seen in some hospitals' management deciding against the limit of these procedures, as the instant benefit of being paid and maintaining the institution's reputation outweighs the long term benefits of freeing space and supplies for many people. This is a prime example of using resources in a self-benefitting manner as described by the Tragedy of the Commons.

Linked source: Marco, Alan P. MD, MMM Anesthesiology, the Tragedy of the Commons, and COVID-19, Anesthesia & Analgesia: July 2020 - Volume 131 - Issue 1 - p 120-123
doi: 10.1213/ANE.0000000000004927
Other references: Hardin, G. (1968). The Tragedy of the Commons. Science, 162(3859), 1243-1248. Retrieved September 12, 2021, from http://www.jstor.org/stable/1724745

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This was one of the most interesting readings from module 4. It discusses, in detail, how Gifford Pinchot assisted President Theodore Roosevelt in the creation of the conservation movement. In Pinchot's words:

"Launching the Conservation movement was the most significant achievement of the T.R. Administration, as he himself believed. It seems altogether probable that it will also be the achievement for which he will be longest and most gratefully remembered"

The name itself, "conservation", was born from the already existing forest lands in British India called "conservancies". Pinchot and his associate, Overton Price, were inspired by this word and had it approved by Roosevelt in the creation of this new movement. The main principles of this new idea are discussed as wanting to reduce human- generated waste, and to use resources in a beneficial way to both people and their environment. Pinchot also mentions that resources are to be used for the benefit of the masses rather than to generate profit for a small number of individuals. This is the grounding basis for how America began its conservation journey.

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"mountains, majestic, national park, high land, panorama, landscape, snow, range, mountain, glacier" by Maysam Ybandeh for Pixnio is licensed under CC0.

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"Wild by Law": Leopold & the American Wilderness

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"Wild by Law": Leopold & the American Wilderness

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In the 1991 film "Wild by Law", we are given an insight into the early beginnings of protective legislation for America's wild lands. Aldo Leopold is at the center of this discussion, as his ideas and philosophies are still prevalent in environmental discussions and policies to this day. Though, he did not always have the conservationist mindset that he is so well remembered for. One of the more striking moments in this film is when Leopold is in the wilderness exploring with his colleagues, and comes across a small group of wolves. At this point in time, it would be considered strange to pass up the opportunity of killing these wolves and so that's what Leopold and his friends did. This logic was part of the thought process that less wolves would mean more dear, a "hunter's paradise" in his words. The greatest pivot in Leopold's thinking came when he realized the error in this logic- that the pervasive killing of wolves does not make moral OR scientific sense, and rather results in the deer overgrazing the land in which they inhabit. This is one of the factors that makes Leopold a key leader during this time, since he not only recognized the error in his thinking but then used it to prompt further questioning into what other environmental practices were being wrongly accepted.

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"Gifford Pinchot" by National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution; gift of Drake Morey and the Morey Family is licensed under CC0.

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Gifford Pinchot has a lasting legacy in the domain of environmental practices. He led the American Forestry Services for over a decade, and pioneered the progress we are inspired by today. He had grit and passion for the protection of forests, and would not stand by to witness the lack of leadership and innovation that was present in his time. He lived from 1865 to 1946, and managed to be deemed the "father of American conservation" because of his unwavering concern for the protection of untouched land in the United States. He was not faltered by setbacks, and instead persisted with his goal of increasing the amount of land in America to be left alone from human development and industrial constructions. Today, we can see this legacy as he has a national forest named after him in Lewis county, Washington.

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"Rachel-Carson.jpg" by the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service is in the public domain.  

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Rachel Carson has published numerous works on the subject of natural resources and humanity's use of them. In Silent Spring, there is one chapter in particular that focuses on the pollution of our water systems and how it affects every living organism. Chapter 4: Surface Waters and Underground Seas discusses the reported illnesses and stunted growth that can be linked to the pollution in our water. This passage sums up the strange phenomenon:

"Ever since chemists began to manufacture substances that nature never invented, the problems of water purification have become complex and the danger to users of water has increased...It has now reached such proportions that an appalling deluge of chemical pollution is daily poured into the nation’s waterways...these chemicals sometimes defy detection by the methods in ordinary use by purification plants...Often they cannot even be identified. In rivers, a really incredible variety of pollutants combine to produce deposits that the sanitary engineers can only despairingly refer to as ‘gunk’.

This particular passage was striking to me as it gets the message across quite effectively just how deep this issue goes. Starting with the creation of unnatural substances, it describes how we have managed to loop back on ourselves and create chemicals that cannot be separated or even identified by the technology we have created for that purpose.

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Bioaccumulation of pesticide contaminants in tissue matrices of dogs suffering from malignant canine mammary tumors in Punjab, India. Licensed under CC 4.0)

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In this October 2020 article published by Heliyon, an open-access scientific journal, the affects of pesticide contaminants in dogs is examined. I found this to be relevant to module 6 since it shows the ongoing relevance of discussions around pesticides and their impact on animal health.

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Abstract

The unprecedented application of pesticides in Punjab, India during green revolution has lead to an environmental crisis due to the accumulation of persistent organic and pesticide pollutants in the environment and biota of this region. The present study aimed at estimating the abundance of pesticide contaminants in three biological matrices of 36 dogs suffering from malignant canine mammary tumor (mCMT) and 6 tumor free control dogs from Punjab, India. Presence of individual and total pesticides in canine biological samples, age and bodyweight of canine patients was assessed as a potential risk factor for mCMT using logistic regression analysis. Chi-square test was employed to determine tissue-specific accumulations of individual pesticides. Spearman's correlation coefficient was estimated to determine the association between the levels of total pesticides in different tissue matrices and with age and bodyweight of mCMT cases. Gas chromatography-ECD analysis of serum, mammary tissue and adjoining mammary adipose tissue revealed fourteen different pesticides including γ-HCH, α-HCH, dieldrin, aldrin, heptachlor, butachlor, p,p-DDT, o,p-DDT, p,p-DDD, p,p-DDE, L-cyhalothrin, permethrin, fipronil, and fenitrothion. Heptachlor, γ-HCH, aldrin and p,p-DDT were more frequently detected, whereas, p,p-DDE and o,p-DDT were the least common. Differential accumulation of pesticides in tissue matrices, particularly between serum and mammary tissue/adipose tissue was observed. We could not find any association between the total pesticide concentrations among serum, mammary tissue and mammary adipose tissue in mCMT cases. We found that the odds for individual pesticide for serum, mammary tissue and adipose tissue were associated with high uncertainties; however, the total pesticide concentration in mammary tissue was near non-significantly associated with higher risk of mCMT with low uncertainty. Statistically non-significant higher odds of CMT occurrence with increase in age was noticed No association between the concentration of total pesticides in different matrices and age and bodyweight of canine subjects was found.

Keywords

Organochlorine pesticides

Persistent organic pollutants

Recommended articles Citing articles (0)

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Bioaccumulation of pesticide contaminants in tissue matrices of dogs suffering from malignant canine mammary tumors in Punjab, India

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The unprecedented application of pesticides in Punjab, India during green revolution has lead to an environmental crisis due to the accumulation of persistent organic and pesticide pollutants in the environment and biota of this region.

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Mangrum, B. (2021). Rachel Carson, Environmental Rights, and the Publicity of Aesthetic Judgments. ELH 88(3), 765-793. https://www.muse.jhu.edu/article/804224.

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Rachel Carson: Political Framework and Liberal Ideologies 

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Rachel Carson: Political Framework and Liberal Ideologies 

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In this journal for the Johns Hopkins University Press, author Benjamin Mangrum discusses Rachel Carson's works and how they have influenced the environmental political sphere we have today. In particular, her ability to dissolve the borders that kept the public in the dark as to how corporations/governmental resource practices were affecting their lived and health. The idea of aesthetic appreciation is also a topic that is touched on, and brings us back to the topic of nature's "intrinsic value", when it is appreciated for what it is instead of what it can do.

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[Skip to Content]

Abstract:

This essay considers how Rachel Carson's writing adapts the political framework and literary conventions of a liberal public sphere. This framework is most conspicuously evident in Carson's use of the vocabulary of rights; however, the legacy of public sphere discourse also appears in her attempts to dilate the conceptual borders for what would be considered public. Her representations of the world and ecological interdependence expand the very idea of publicity. In turn, her work is also important to a new development in the postwar era: the idea of environmental rights. Through lyrical evocations of the natural world and an insistence on aesthetic appreciation, Carson imagines collective forms of affiliation with a nonhuman world characterized by what she calls a "sense of wonder." This aesthetic sensibility animates Carson's expansion of the moral-political language of rights.

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Project MUSE - Rachel Carson, Environmental Rights, and the Publicity of Aesthetic Judgments

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Skip to Content] Abstract: This essay considers how Rachel Carson's writing adapts the political framework and literary conventions of a liberal public sphere. This framework is most conspicuously evident in Carson's use of the vocabulary of rights; however, the legacy of public sphere discourse also appears in her attempts to dilate the conceptual borders for what would be considered public.

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"seal, beach, sand, animals" by PIXNIO stock images is in the public domain licensed under CC0.

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The Endangered Species Act (ESA) was passed in 1973 following a Washington DC conference on the international trading of wildlife and plant species. One of the focuses of this conference was how trading harms the populations of wild species, which led to the discussion on how to better protect struggling wild populations of wildlife and plants alike.
The creation of the ESA defined many of the terms we commonly use today, such as "endangered" and "threatened" when referring to the strength of a species' population. Section 3 of the act serves specifically to define these terms and many others that are used throughout the act. In addition, it was the first act of legislation that protected the habitats of such species considered to be endangered. This was a huge step for environmental causes because the government stepped in to prevent further damage to declining populations, even at the risk of losing areas that could be used for their resources. Federal protection is an essential part in the conservation of natural resources (including wildlife), and this act can be considered one of the first steps taken towards this cause.

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Love Canal: A Brief History by Jordan Kleiman for Geneso University (https://www.geneseo.edu/history/love_canal_history)

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In this brief article by Jordan Kleiman, the impacts of the Love Canal disaster are summarized. When I watched the documentary about this event in module 7, it prompted quite an array of emotions in reaction to it. Though I was shocked at the atrocity of this historical story, a part of me was not surprised. It is deeply saddening that there was such a vast amount of deceit and attempted cover- ups in order to hide the truth of what happened in the Love Canal. Hearing the residents' first hand accounts was the most heart breaking part for me. The death and devastation that the Hooker Chemical Company caused should go down in history books so that this kind of event cannot happen again in the future. One of the most sickening parts of it all is that they sold this land to the Niagara Falls School Board after dumping chemical waste in it for over a decade.

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Love Canal is an aborted canal project branching off of the Niagara River about four miles south of Niagara Falls. It is also the name of a fifteen-acre, working-class neighborhood of around 800 single-family homes built directly adjacent to the canal. From 1942 to 1953, the Hooker Chemical Company, with government sanction, began using the partially dug canal as a chemical waste dump. At the end of this period, the contents of the canal consisted of around 21,000 tons of toxic chemicals, including at least twelve that are known carcinogens (halogenated organics, chlorobenzenes, and dioxin among them). Hooker capped the 16-acre hazardous waste landfill in clay and sold the land to the Niagara Falls School Board, attempting to absolve itself of any future liability by including a warning in the property deed.

Public awareness of the disaster unfolded in the late 1970s when investigative newspaper coverage and grassroots door-to-door health surveys began to reveal a series of inexplicable illnesses-epilepsy, asthma, migraines, and nephrosis-and abnormally high rates of birth defects and miscarriages in the Love Canal neighborhood. As it turns out, consecutive wet winters in the late 1970s raised the water table and caused the chemicals to leach (via underground swales and a sewer system that drained into nearby creeks) into the basements and yards of neighborhood residents, as well as into the playground of the elementary school built directly over the canal. After a series of frustrating encounters with apathetic NYS officials, who were slow to act but quick to dismiss the activists (most of whom were working-class women who lived in the neighborhood) as a collection of hysterical housewives, President Jimmy Carter declared a state of emergency in 1978 and had the federal government relocate 239 families. This left 700 families who federal officials viewed as being at insufficient risk to warrant relocation, even though tests conducted by the NYS Department of Health revealed that toxic substances were leaching into their homes. After another hard battle, activists forced Carter to declare a second state of emergency in 1981, during which the remaining families were relocated. The total cost for relocation of all the families was $17 million.

Love Canal quickly came to symbolize the looming environmental disaster represented by untold numbers of toxic waste disposal sites scattered throughout America. Legislators and activists alike have tapped the momentum generated by Love Canal activism in their efforts to deal with this dangerous and costly problem. On the level of public policy, lawmakers used the national publicity generated by the Love Canal disaster to push for new legislation to hold polluters financially responsible for cleaning up their toxic waste sites. The result was the 1980 Comprehensive Environmental Response, Compensation, and Liability Act-better known as Superfund. A less well-known but equally important outcome of Love Canal was the emergence of a militant, grassroots "environmental justice" movement. This movement, which was fueled by mounting frustration with mainstream environmentalism's failure to address the disproportionate impact of toxic pollution on working-class and minority communities, launched anti-toxics campaigns in hundreds of cities across the nation.
Some Useful Websites

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Love Canal is an aborted canal project branching off of the Niagara River about four miles south of Niagara Falls. It is also the name of a fifteen-acre, working-class neighborhood of around 800 single-family homes built directly adjacent to the canal.

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"Person Holding A Green Plant" by Akil Mazumder for Pexels is in the public domain licensed under CC0. 

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The year 1970 was at a point in time where no official legislation existed for the protection of our environment. This encouraged Wisconsin Senator Gaylord Nelson to create such a national day of recognition on April 22, 1970. Senator Nelson derived inspiration from the anti-war efforts of the American youth in order to create this day. Stirring up public attention towards the effort of environmental conservation was the main purpose of this day, since there was no government recognition of its importance at the time. In many ways, this effort was a success as the Endangered Species Act was passed within the same year and was followed by other things such as the Clean Air Act and Clean Water Act.

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"Spotted Owl Face" by Ranjit for Adobe Stock is in the public domain licensed under CC0.

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In this module I learned about the population struggle between the Northern Spotted Owl and the Barred Owl species. I had no prior knowledge of this issue, so it was an interesting yet disheartening thing to learn about. The Spotted owl has already gone through a lot in the past, with loggers lobbying against the protection of their habitats when they were declared an endangered species. Since their protection meant the loss of work for loggers, they came out in full force and even took to killing some of the owls themselves. Though the Barred Owls presented a new threat when they came into the area of already established Spotted Owls. With a larger average population, Barred owls easily out-compete their counterparts for the resources around them, putting even more strain on the already endangered Spotted Owls. The elected method for keeping their protection has been to have controlled killings of the Barred Owls, which seems to be the most effective option there is. Though I do not agree with this practice, I have been hard pressed to come up with a better idea for sustaining the numbers of Spotted Owl populations.

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"Grand Canyon Arizona Nature" by Jon Sullivan for PIXNIO is in the public domain licensed under CC0.

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The battle for protection of natural resources is an ongoing and pervasive one. In the era of Trump in the United States government, we saw a time of increased worry for our land and its rights, as well as those that need this land for their survival. It is a disappointing reality that many people (especially those in power) see more value in economic gain than preserving our Earth as we know it. An example of this can be seen by the officials who have lobbied for the ban of uranium mining near the Grand Canyon to be lifted under Trump's administration. This is despite the environmental dangers that could arise as well as the hardships that uranium mining has already caused the Navajo population in Arizona.

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"Smokeybear1994" by Fanra for the Wikimedia Commons is in the public domain licensed under CC0.

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The image above is a 1944 rendering of Smokey the Bear, and this is his first appearance in the Forest Fire Prevention campaign. It was not until the later 1940's that his image was used more often in images on stamps and posters. In the 50's he appeared in radio commercials and eventually shows on television. His increasing popularity led him to become a household name within the decade, which greatly aided the cause for the awareness and prevention of forest fires. There came a change though in the 1990's, where Smokey's slogan changed from preventing "forest fires" to "wildfires". This was a necessary change, as the fires that ravaged many landscapes were not limited to just forests. Areas such as grasslands and prairies were also greatly affected by the occurrence of rapid spreading fires, which the term "wildfires" was more suited to.

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Our namesake. "Ding" Darling Wildlife Society. (n.d.). Retrieved October 24, 2021, from https://dingdarlingsociety.org/articles/our-namesake. 

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Jay Darling began to sign his cartoons with the alias "Ding" by combining the first letter of his last name with the last three letters. This was the name he became so widely known by in the realm of political & satirical cartoons, which have appeared in over 100 published newspapers. In this article, the Ding Darling Society gives an overview of his life and accomplishments as a background of the name of their society. They discuss his impacts in the field of wildlife conservation and contributions to the conservation effort.

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Cooperative Fish and wildlife research units program: Headquarters Education, research and technical assistance for managing our natural resources. Headquarters

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USGS: Cooperative Fish & Wildlife Research Units

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USGS: Cooperative Fish & Wildlife Research Units

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An interesting point in this module was learning about the USGS cooperative research units. Prior to this I did not know of this organization, but was intrigued to learn more about the advancements in fish & wildlife science graduate education. I believe it is a crucial point that federal employees and researchers are the leads of this program, and would provide the most direct education on conservation efforts. This program could have as much benefit as an internship, since students get to learn from industry professionals in such an interactive environment.

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The Cooperative Research Unit program was established in 1935 to enhance graduate education in fisheries and wildlife sciences and to facilitate research between natural resource agencies and universities on topics of mutual concern. Today, there are 40 Cooperative Research Units in 38 states. Each unit is a partnership among the U.S. Geological Survey, a State natural resource agency, a host university, and the Wildlife Management Institute.

Staffed by U.S. Geological Federal personnel, Cooperative Research Units conduct research on renewable natural resource questions, participate in the education of graduate students, provide technical assistance and consultation on natural resource issues, and provide continuing education for natural resource professionals.

We invite you to explore our website further and check out our research projects, meet our students, and review exciting, new research findings.

Headquarters Federal Staff

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The Cooperative Research Unit program was established in 1935 to enhance graduate education in fisheries and wildlife sciences and to facilitate research between natural resource agencies and universities on topics of mutual concern. Today, there are 40 Cooperative Research Units in 38 states. Each unit is a partnership among the U.S.

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National Resources Conservation Service: NRCS

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National Resources Conservation Service: NRCS

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The NRCS works with agricultural producers to engrain sustainability practices into their everyday production. This sector of the US Department of Agriculture is arguably one of the most important, as it implements the ideas that are often discussed with environmentalism and puts them into the real world.

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NRCS is helping private landowners improve the health of their operations while protecting our natural resources for the future. We are working to ensure the long-term sustainability of American agriculture.

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In one of the videos for module 10, Michael Kotutwa Johnson mentions the importance of natural resource students taking courses on American Indian Studies and federal Indian policy. This is an important area for someone going into the field of conservation, in order to improve the communication between federal agencies and Native American tribes. The link attached above discusses the importance of native lands, as well as the uses of tribal lands and their resources.

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In this module I learned about the ethic adopted by hunters who consider themselves sportsmen, and how this mutual agreement has an effect on wildlife conservation and population control. Imposing bag limits, seasonal restrictions, and "fair chase" principles have helped to keep the number of hunted animals at a healthy level. It also establishes a difference between those who hunt for the sport or to provide from those who are seeking profit from their kills. The Lacy Act of 1900 was passed after much effort from sportsmen to get control of market hunters who would kill vast amounts of wildlife. The act made it illegal to move unlawfully acquired game across state borders, and thus put an end to market hunting.

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The Sportsman’s Code of Hunting Ethics - Sporting Classics Daily

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We carry a bit of sport’s future with us every time we set out to hunt. Ensuring a bright future requires a strict code of hunting ethics.

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The Sportsman’s Code of Hunting Ethics

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The Audubon Society is one of many influential groups in the field of conservation. The link above shows their work pertaining to climate, which includes campaigns on state and national levels as well as scientific research. There are advocates all across the country in location- specific groups that work towards these conservation efforts.

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Climate change is an existential threat to birds and people, and addressing this threat requires sustained, targeted action across the country and the world. Audubon is uniquely suited to help drive that action with our hemispheric network of staff and volunteers from all walks of life and of all political persuasions.

Our network spans the political spectrum-45 percent identifies as moderate or conservative-and is significantly more ready than the public at large to take action on climate change. This network includes 1.2 million members, 454 local chapters, 41 nature centers, and 23 state offices, all united by a love for birds that transcends political boundaries.

By engaging our bipartisan network to advance effective climate solutions across the country, Audubon not only makes progress on climate policy, but also builds public demand for solutions. We're building the political muscle and grassroots momentum to drive both state and federal wins on climate, and we're aiming high: Audubon has set a goal of contributing to emissions reductions of at least 80 percent of 1990 levels by 2050.

Audubon is a centrist organization that focuses on market-based solutions and common-sense climate policies that resonate on both sides of the aisle in Congress.

Our Bipartisan Membership

Our membership allows Audubon to create policy opportunities by building trust and relationships on both sides of the aisle. Capitalizing on our bipartisan membership, solutions-oriented approach, and presence in members' states and districts around the country, Audubon is helping to shape solutions and mobilize the broad support to make them real. The climate crisis will not wait. Building consensus around a range of solutions, including market- and incentive-based policies, will help us accelerate the pace of successful and durable climate policy. We are committed to working with bipartisan leaders, business and centrist institutions.

Audubon's State and Local Campaigns

Audubon is local everywhere. With leadership in 23 states and with chapters and members in all 50 states, Audubon has the presence and a committed membership to advance climate solutions in communities across the country. We are leading grassroots campaigns in six states (both red and blue) to drive locally relevant solutions that build resilience or reduce carbon emissions. We do that by strengthening public and political support for solutions to address a changing climate. Securing a single victory in a state builds momentum for more, and progress in one place seeds progress in others.

Audubon's Grassroots Organizing

Audubon is building a network of bipartisan advocates for climate solutions. By engaging with our 1.2 million members, and the more than 45 million Americans who consider themselves birders, we make complex environmental impacts tangible, and national and global issues local. Audubon brings people to climate action through their passion for birds: stewarding a beach to protect nesting shorebirds, planting native gardens that support bird populations, participating in a Christmas Bird Count or taking a bird walk at a local Audubon nature center. Each activity can provide a window into the impacts of a changing climate on the birds we care about.

Audubon's field organizers, active in states with conservative to moderate constituencies, empower communities to take climate action through education, training, and organizational support.

Photo: Camilla Cerea/Audubon

Audubon's Renewables Policy

Audubon supports reaching 50 percent renewable-power generation by 2030. Building on two decades of collaboration and advocacy for well-sited renewable energy projects, we will work with all stakeholders-energy developers, conservation organizations, local communities, and government agencies-to promote renewable energy policies at the local, state and federal levels, and to advance projects on the ground.

Tech

Raptors and wind energy have a fraught history. Could these innovations allow them to co-exist?
Read more

Advocacy

Audubon strongly supports properly sited wind power as a renewable energy source that helps reduce the threat posed to birds and people by climate change.
Read more

Energy

Solar energy is a boon for the environment, but some methods can be harmful to birds and other wildlife. Here's how to go solar safely.
Read more

Strengthening our Network

Audubon members know that climate change is happening now, in their backyards, and it's happening to birds they love. They want to know what they can do now to take action no matter when and where political opportunities arise.

To that end, Audubon's nature centers, chapters, and local partners have embraced our hands-on programs designed to address birds' struggles with climate change. These actions, which can be taken at home or in their local communities, empower and engage the public to champion climate solutions.

Cutting-Edge Climate Science

In September 2014, Audubon's Birds and Climate Report revealed that climate change is a threat to the survival of more than 50 percent of North America's bird species. The seven-year science investigation, made possible by decades of community-science data provided by people who care deeply about birds, sounded an alarm that made news around the world. This report compelled us to launch our climate initiative, our most ambitious effort since we helped fight and win the battle against DDT in the 1960's. The Audubon Climate Report asked members to do two things: 1) Protect the places birds need now and will need in the future and 2) Address the underlying causes of climate change.

Audubon applies its cutting-edge science in conservation, mitigation, and adaptation efforts across the United States and into Central and South America, where many of America's climate-sensitive birds spend their winters.

Climate Initiative National Leadership

As climate change makes the seasons less predictable, one in five studied species are struggling to time their migrations with the greenery.

Not only do they highlight the major routes species will take to stay cool, but they are also guides for how we should approach future conservation.

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Red-bellied Woodpecker
Photo: Simon Tan

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Audubon is a nonprofit organization committed to protecting birds and the places they need. We rely on our members for support. You can help us by making a donation today.

We're in a race against time - to give birds a fighting chance in a rapidly changing world. Your support will hellp secure the future for birds at risk from climate change, habitat loss, and other threats.

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Climate change is an existential threat to birds and people, and addressing this threat requires sustained, targeted action across the country and the world. Audubon is uniquely suited to help drive that action with our hemispheric network of staff and volunteers from all walks of life and of all political persuasions.

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The use of the term "Anthropocene" to describe a new era in the Earth's timeline has been widely debated for years. In this encyclopedic entry by National Geographic, some different viewpoints are discussed. The sociological versus scientific views are the main source here, as well as geographic information.

National Geographic Society. (2019, June 5). Anthropocene. National Geographic Society. Retrieved November 8, 2021, from https://www.nationalgeographic.org/encyclopedia/anthropocene/.

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Earth's history is divided into a hierarchical series of smaller chunks of time, referred to as the geologic time scale. These divisions, in descending length of time, are called eons, eras, periods, epochs, and ages.

These units are classified based on Earth's rock layers, or strata, and the fossils found within them. From examining these fossils, scientists know that certain organisms are characteristic of certain parts of the geologic record. The study of this correlation is called stratigraphy.

Officially, the current epoch is called the Holocene, which began 11,700 years ago after the last major ice age. However, the Anthropocene Epoch is an unofficial unit of geologic time, used to describe the most recent period in Earth's history when human activity started to have a significant impact on the planet's climate and ecosystems. The word Anthropocene is derived from the Greek words anthropo, for "man," and cene for "new," coined and made popular by biologist Eugene Stormer and chemist Paul Crutzen in 2000.

Scientists still debate whether the Anthropocene is different from the Holocene, and the term has not been formally adopted by the International Union of Geological Sciences (IUGS), the international organization that names and defines epochs. The primary question that the IUGS needs to answer before declaring the Anthropocene an epoch is if humans have changed the Earth system to the point that it is reflected in the rock strata.

To those scientists who do think the Anthropocene describes a new geological time period, the next question is, when did it begin, which also has been widely debated. A popular theory is that it began at the start of the Industrial Revolution of the 1800s, when human activity had a great impact on carbon and methane in Earth's atmosphere. Others think that the beginning of the Anthropocene should be 1945. This is when humans tested the first atomic bomb, and then dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan. The resulting radioactive particles were detected in soil samples globally.

In 2016, the Anthropocene Working Group agreed that the Anthropocene is different from the Holocene, and began in the year 1950 when the Great Acceleration, a dramatic increase in human activity affecting the planet, took off.

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Anthropocene | National Geographic Society

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Earth's history is divided into a hierarchical series of smaller chunks of time, referred to as the geologic time scale. These divisions, in descending length of time, are called eons, eras, periods, epochs, and ages. These units are classified based on Earth's rock layers, or strata, and the fossils found within them.

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The Kyoto protocol addresses the limitations that are imposed on countries so that they work to reduce the amount of greenhouse gases produced. Countries involved are all industrialized, and thus need these limitations imposed on them. Figures are agreed upon and are set up as goals in certain percentages to reduce their emissions by. Many amendments have been made since this protocol was enacted in 1997, and they all serve to reduce the environmental damages that happen on the scale of entire countries.

What is the Kyoto Protocol? Unfccc.int. (n.d.). Retrieved November 8, 2021, from https://unfccc.int/kyoto_protocol.

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The Kyoto Protocol was adopted on 11 December 1997. Owing to a complex ratification process, it entered into force on 16 February 2005. Currently, there are 192 Parties to the Kyoto Protocol.

In short, the Kyoto Protocol operationalizes the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change by committing industrialized countries and economies in transition to limit and reduce greenhouse gases (GHG) emissions in accordance with agreed individual targets. The Convention itself only asks those countries to adopt policies and measures on mitigation and to report periodically.

The Kyoto Protocol is based on the principles and provisions of the Convention and follows its annex-based structure. It only binds developed countries, and places a heavier burden on them under the principle of "common but differentiated responsibility and respective capabilities", because it recognizes that they are largely responsible for the current high levels of GHG emissions in the atmosphere.

In its Annex B, the Kyoto Protocol sets binding emission reduction targets for 37 industrialized countries and economies in transition and the European Union. Overall, these targets add up to an average 5 per cent emission reduction compared to 1990 levels over the five year period 2008-2012 (the first commitment period).

Doha Amendment

In Doha, Qatar, on 8 December 2012, the Doha Amendment to the Kyoto Protocol was adopted for a second commitment period, starting in 2013 and lasting until 2020.

As of 28 October 2020, 147 Parties deposited their instrument of acceptance, therefore the threshold of 144 instruments of acceptance for entry into force of the Doha Amendment was achieved. The amendment entered into force on 31 December 2020.

The amendment includes:

New commitments for Annex I Parties to the Kyoto Protocol who agreed to take on commitments in a second commitment period from 1 January 2013 to 31 December 2020;

A revised list of GHG to be reported on by Parties in the second commitment period; and

Amendments to several articles of the Kyoto Protocol which specifically referenced issues pertaining to the first commitment period and which needed to be updated for the second commitment period.

On 21 December 2012, the amendment was circulated by the Secretary-General of the United Nations, acting in his capacity as Depositary, to all Parties to the Kyoto Protocol in accordance with Articles 20 and 21 of the Protocol.

During the first commitment period, 37 industrialized countries and economies in transition and the European Community committed to reduce GHG emissions to an average of five percent against 1990 levels. During the second commitment period, Parties committed to reduce GHG emissions by at least 18 percent below 1990 levels in the eight-year period from 2013 to 2020; however, the composition of Parties in the second commitment period is different from the first.

The Kyoto mechanisms

One important element of the Kyoto Protocol was the establishment of flexible market mechanisms, which are based on the trade of emissions permits. Under the Protocol, countries must meet their targets primarily through national measures. However, the Protocol also offers them an additional means to meet their targets by way of three market-based mechanisms:

These mechanisms ideally encourage GHG abatement to start where it is most cost-effective, for example, in the developing world. It does not matter where emissions are reduced, as long as they are removed from the atmosphere. This has the parallel benefits of stimulating green investment in developing countries and including the private sector in this endeavour to cut and hold steady GHG emissions at a safe level. It also makes leap-frogging-that is, the possibility of skipping the use of older, dirtier technology for newer, cleaner infrastructure and systems, with obvious longer-term benefits-more economical.

Monitoring emission targets

The Kyoto Protocol also established a rigorous monitoring, review and verification system, as well as a compliance system to ensure transparency and hold Parties to account. Under the Protocol, countries' actual emissions have to be monitored and precise records have to be kept of the trades carried out.

Registry systems track and record transactions by Parties under the mechanisms. The UN Climate Change Secretariat, based in Bonn, Germany, keeps an international transaction log to verify that transactions are consistent with the rules of the Protocol.

Reporting is done by Parties by submitting annual emission inventories and national reports under the Protocol at regular intervals.

A compliance system ensures that Parties are meeting their commitments and helps them to meet their commitments if they have problems doing so.

Adaptation
The Kyoto Protocol, like the Convention, is also designed to assist countries in adapting to the adverse effects of climate change. It facilitates the development and deployment of technologies that can help increase resilience to the impacts of climate change.

The Adaptation Fund was established to finance adaptation projects and programmes in developing countries that are Parties to the Kyoto Protocol. In the first commitment period, the Fund was financed mainly with a share of proceeds from CDM project activities. In Doha, in 2012, it was decided that for the second commitment period, international emissions trading and joint implementation would also provide the Adaptation Fund with a 2 percent share of proceeds.

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The Kyoto Protocol was adopted on 11 December 1997. Owing to a complex ratification process, it entered into force on 16 February 2005. Currently, there are 192 Parties to the Kyoto Protocol. In short, the Kyoto Protocol operationalizes the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change by committing industrialized countries and economies in transition to limit and reduce greenhouse gases (GHG) emissions in accordance with agreed individual targets.

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"water, pipeline" by USFWS for Pixnio is in the public domain by licensing CC0. 

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Persuasion in Environmental Advertising 

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Persuasion in Environmental Advertising 

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In this module, we examined two videos from different viewpoints on the Keystone XL pipeline development. In order to assess the credibility of these videos I paid attention to how the information was being presented. The video in favor of the pipeline had much more persuasion tactics than the one against it. This is because they used a combination of imagery and sound to get this effect across, as well as antagonizing language towards the opposition. Dramatic music switches were used when talking about the pipeline versus those who are opposing to the pipeline's construction, for the purpose of the viewers agreeing with what is being said. From this activity I have learned to be more aware of these tactics that are employed in media releases.

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In this 2021 journal on Land Use Policy, the social effects of desertification and its restoration efforts are examined using official project documents. The authors' main point in this journal is to see the correlations between improving desolate lands and how that lessens the vulnerability of those living in that area. In the process of this restoration, the authors stress how important it is to keep the wellbeing of the local populations at the forefront of the project. Afforestation, reforestation, and revegetation (ARR) efforts' main purpose is to not only re-integrate a healthy natural environment but also improve the living conditions of those who live there.

Citation: Turner, M. D., Carney, T., Lawler, L., Reynolds, J., Kelley, L., Teague, M. S., & Brottem, L. (n.d.). Environmental rehabilitation and the vulnerability of the poor: The case of the Great Green Wall. ScienceDirect. Retrieved November 14, 2021, from https://doi.org/10.1016/j.landusepol.2021.105750.

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This open access letter in volume 16 of the Environmental Research Letters was published in July of 2021, and looks at the ways in which deforestation can be predicted as a means of having more efficient conservation practices. In this module we discussed the benefits of using technology such as satellite imagery to assess the ways that conservation efforts can be improved. I found that this letter relates strongly to what we have learned in module 12.

Citation: Jaffé6, R., Nunes1, S., Santos1, J. F. D., Gastauer1, M., Giannini1, T. C., Jr1, W. N., Sales3, M., Jr3, C. M. S., Souza-Filho1, P. W., Jr5, R. J. F., https://orcid.org/0000-0002-2101-5282, R. J., & https://orcid.org/0000-0002-0205-6134, C. M. S. J. (2021, July 29). IOPscience. Environmental Research Letters. Retrieved November 14, 2021, from https://iopscience.iop.org/article/10.1088/1748-9326/ac146a/meta.

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Rodolfo Jaffé Samia Nunes Jorge Filipe Dos Santos Markus Gastauer Tereza C Giannini Wilson Nascimento Jr Marcio Sales Carlos M Souza Jr Pedro W Souza-Filho Robert J Fletcher Jr 6,1,2, ¹, ¹, ¹, ¹, ¹, ³, ³, 1,4 and ⁵

*
Environmental Research Letters , Volume 16 , Number 8 Citation Rodolfo Jaffé et al 2021 Environ. Res. Lett. 16 084034

¹ Instituto Tecnológico Vale, Rua Boaventura da Silva 955, 66055-090 Belém, PA, Brazil

² Departamento de Ecologia, Instituto de Biociências, Universidade de São Paulo, Rua do Matão 321-Trav. 14, 05508-090 São Paulo, SP, Brazil

³ Instituto do Homem e do Meio Ambiente da Amazônia, Trav. Dom Romualdo de Seixas 1698, Ed. Zion Business 11° andar, 66055-200 Belém, PA, Brazil

⁴ Instituto de Geociências, Universidade Federal do Pará, Av. Augusto Correa 1, Belém, PA 66075-110, Brazil

⁵ Department of Wildlife Ecology and Conservation, University of Florida, PO Box 110430, 110 Newins-Ziegler Hall, Gainesville, FL 32611-0430, United States of America

⁶ Current address: Exponent, 15375 SE 30th Place, Suite 250, Bellevue, WA 98007, United States of America

Buy this article in print

1748-9326/16/8/084034

Abstract

As Amazon deforestation rates reach the highest levels observed in the past decade, it is extremely important to direct conservation efforts to regions containing preserved forests with a high risk of deforestation. This requires forecasting deforestation, a complex endeavor due to the interplay of multiple socioeconomic, political, and environmental factors across different spatial and temporal scales. Here we couple high-resolution land-cover maps with Bayesian hierarchical spatial models to identify the main drivers of recent deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon and predict which areas are likely to lose a larger proportion of forest in the next 3 years. Recent deforestation was positively associated with forest edge density, the length of roads and waterways, elevation and terrain slope; and negatively associated with distance to urban areas, roads, and indigenous lands, area designated as protected or indigenous territory, and municipality GDP per capita. From these variables, forest edge density and distance to roads showed the largest effect sizes and highest predictive power. Predictive accuracy was highest for shorter time windows and larger grid sizes. Predicted deforestation was largely concentrated in the North-Eastern portions of the Brazilian Amazon, and amounted to roughly 3, 5, and 6 million hectares for 2020, 2021, and 2022, respectively. About 50% of this predicted deforestation is expected to occur inside protected areas or indigenous lands. Our short-term forecasts can help plan preventive measures to limit deforestation while meeting the specific needs of local areas.

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The Amazon rainforest contains half of the planet's remaining tropical forests and holds 10% of the global carbon reserves, stabilizing local and global climate (Brienen et al 2015, IPBES 2018). It constitutes the most extensive collection of living plants and animals, holding 10% of the world's known species, and is home to more than 30 million people, including more than 350 ethnic groups (WWF 2016). Given the paramount importance of the Amazon rainforest for global climate and biodiversity, substantial national and international policies and resources have been directed to protect its standing forests (Ometto et al 2011, Nepstad et al 2014, Tollefson 2015, Levis et al 2020), resulting in a drastic decrease in deforestation rates since 2004 (PRODES 2020). However, deforestation rates have been increasing since 2015, and in 2020 rates reached the highest levels of the decade (PRODES 2020, Silva Junior et al 2021). As immense forested areas are being destroyed and fragmented, it is imperative to direct conservation efforts to regions containing preserved forests with a high risk of deforestation (Stropp et al 2020).

Forecasting deforestation across the Amazon is nevertheless a complex endeavor due to the influence of multiple socioeconomic, political, and environmental factors operating across different spatial and temporal scales (Laurance et al 2001, Soares-Filho et al 2006, Rosa et al 2013, Swann et al 2015, Bax et al 2016, Sales et al 2017, Vijay et al 2018, Brito et al 2019). Although past efforts forecasting Amazon deforestation have employed binary forest cover layers representing primary forest (Rosa et al 2013, Swann et al 2015, Sales et al 2017, Brito et al 2019), high-resolution, accurate land-cover maps recently became available for the entire Amazon biome, from 1985 to 2019 (Souza et al 2020). These new maps allow modeling the deforestation of both primary and secondary forests (Nunes et al 2020) and assessing fine-scale changes in forest composition and configuration across the time series. Additionally, most past Amazon deforestation forecasting efforts generated categorical maps, indicating areas with a high probability of being deforested in the future, and only two studies created continuous predicted deforestation maps (Rosa et al 2013, Sales et al 2017). Importantly, continuous maps allow attributing a specific deforestation risk to a delimited region, thereby enabling policy makers to prioritize preventive actions in the field and allocate their available resources accordingly. Lastly, deforestation is a highly non-random process that tends to be aggregated in space, more likely to occur in the proximity of previously deforested areas (Brito et al 2019). Despite this well-known property of deforestation, this spatial autocorrelation in deforestation has rarely been considered in forecasts (Sales et al 2017), even though doing so may allow for improved prediction and less biased inference in understanding factors driving deforestation.

Recent advances in spatial modeling increase the ability to reliably capture spatially autocorrelated processes in space and time across large regions. Bayesian hierarchical spatial models implemented with integrated nested Laplace approximations (INLA) allow relatively fast Bayesian inference by using numerical approximations (Rue et al 2009, 2017). When combined with a stochastic partial differential equation (SPDE) for modeling the spatial correlation, INLA-SPDE has shown many powerful applications, including predicting spatially autocorrelated responses (Lindgren and Rue 2015, Zuur et al 2017, Krainski et al 2018). INLA-SPDE allows the implementation of complex models using simple code, grants fast inference even for spatial problems with hundreds of thousands of observations (Bakka et al 2018), and usually outperforms other spatial modeling and machine learning approaches (Bhatt et al 2017). INLA-SPDE thus represents a more straightforward, flexible, and reproducible approach to forecast Amazon deforestation than those based on multiple complex modeling steps (Rosa et al 2013, Bax et al 2016, Sales et al 2017, Vijay et al 2018, Brito et al 2019) or simulations with pre-defined static parameters (Soares-Filho et al 2006, Swann et al 2015). Additionally, INLA-SPDE allows performing variable selection using different approaches and across spatial and temporal scales, thereby providing an ideal modeling framework to predict deforestation in a specific time window, over the entire biome, or in regions of special interest.

Here we couple high-resolution, accurate land-cover maps across the biome with INLA-SPDE models to identify the main drivers of recent Amazon deforestation and predict which areas are likely to lose a larger proportion of forest. Our main aim was to implement a flexible spatial modeling approach that can be easily replicated to generate short-term (1-3 years) deforestation forecasts across the Brazilian Amazon as well as in specific regions. Since our models can be easily adapted to reflect different temporal and spatial scales, and their predictions can be readily updated as new data become available, we hope they facilitate the planning of preventive measures targeted to the specific needs of certain areas, and thereby help reduce future Amazon deforestation. We provide all code and data needed to replicate our analyses, and an interactive map enabling visualizing our predictions.

2.1. Dataset

The deforestation process can be separated into an occurrence and an intensity component (Sales et al 2017). Since the bulk of short-term deforestation occurs in the proximity of deforested areas (Brito et al 2019), we chose to focus on modeling deforestation intensity. Deforestation was thus measured as the proportion of forest replaced by anthropic land-cover classes in a specific area during a given time interval, quantified as the proportional change in the number of forest pixels on land-cover maps from MapBiomas. Forest pixels replaced by water or non-forested natural areas (like wetland, grassland, or rocky outcrop, see full class legends in https://mapbiomas.org) were not considered as deforested, since these do not represent anthropic land-cover classes. As our goal was to provide short-term deforestation forecasts (2020-2022), we only analyzed deforestation occurring in the recent past (see details in section 2.3). We restricted our analyses to the Brazilian Amazon (containing approximately 60% of all Amazon forest), because it has unified databases covering protected areas, indigenous lands, socioeconomic indicators, etc. Additionally, the entire region is subject to the same national legislation regime.

We used Google Earth Engine to analyze land-cover maps from MapBiomas (collection 5.0), and quantified deforestation in grids of different sizes (see details in next section) covering the entire Brazilian Amazon. MapBiomas comprises a multi-disciplinary network that reconstructed annual land use and land-cover information between 1985 and 2019 for Brazil, based on a random forest model applied to the Landsat archive using Google Earth Engine (Souza et al 2020) (see updated methods here: https://mapbiomas.org/en/methodology-overview). They mapped five major classes, which were subsequently broken into two sub-classification levels leading to the most comprehensive and detailed mapping for the country at a 30 m pixel resolution. The average overall accuracy of the land use and land-cover time-series, based on a stratified random sample of 75 000 pixel locations, was 95% in the Amazon biome (Souza et al 2020).

To model deforestation and generate forecasts, we first selected a suite of putative deforestation predictors. To do so we performed a non-exhaustive literature review and listed all socioeconomic, environmental and landscape variables found to be associated with Amazon forest deforestation in previous studies (table S1 (available online at stacks.iop.org/ERL/16/084034/mmedia)). We then selected all variables that could be retrieved or calculated from open access repositories or spatial layers, assessed missing values and cross-correlations, and chose a set of 20 relatively uncorrelated ( r < 0.6) predictor variables (table S2). Percent pasture cover was included as a landscape composition metric (highly negatively correlated with percent forest cover), since pastureland is widespread across the Brazilian Amazon and cattle ranching is known to be one of the main drivers of Amazon deforestation (Barona et al 2010, Faria and Almeida 2016, Jusys 2016). Besides pasture, other land-cover classes were rare, spatially clumped, or unrelated to deforestation, so they were omitted. We chose forest edge density to assess landscape configuration, given that it is strongly associated with Amazon deforestation (Broadbent et al 2008, Cabral et al 2018), and was highly correlated with other metrics of configuration (e.g. number of forest patches and mean patch area). Since most spatial layers did not contain temporal information (e.g. when indigenous lands were created, when roads were built, etc), or represented point estimates for a specific year (e.g. socioeconomic indicators for municipalities), we considered these as 'static' variables (Rosa et al 2013). These do not change across time but are useful to differentiate regions by their abiotic and socioeconomic characteristics. In contrast, we retrieved four 'dynamic' variables directly from land-cover maps of each year (forest edge density, proportion of pasture, minimum distance to mining areas, and minimum distance to urban areas), representing predictors that change over time and reflect the condition of each site at a specific year (table S2). All predictor variables were retrieved using the same grids employed to assess deforestation, through custom R functions. Due to the heavy computing burden imposed by these analyses we used a computer cluster comprised of a SGI UV 3000 machine (one Blade with 384 cores, Intel(R) Xeon(R) CPU E5-4650 v3 @ 2.10 GHz, and 2 TB RAM) based at Instituto Tecnológico Vale.

2.2. Modeling Amazon deforestation

We modeled deforestation intensity using INLA models with a spatially correlated random effect (INLA-SPDE) and a binomial distribution of errors, implemented through the INLA R package (Lindgren and Rue 2015, Zuur et al 2017, Krainski et al 2018). We used the proportion of deforested pixels in each grid as the response variable, coded as the ratio of the number of deforested pixels to the total number of pixels on each grid cell. An observation-level random effect was included in all models to account for over-dispersion. We used constrained refined Delaunay triangulation to define a mesh for the spatial correlated random effect (Zuur et al 2017). The mesh contained an inner area, covering the entire Brazilian Amazon (where triangle edges were smaller than one decimal degree), and an outer area (where edges could reach four decimal degrees) to avoid boundary effects. A cutoff value was used to ensure that sampling locations within less than one decimal degree were replaced by a single vertex (total number of vertices ranged between 692 and 715, figure S1). This mesh was then used to estimate Gaussian Markov random fields with a Matérn covariance function through SPDE (Lindgren and Rue 2015, Zuur et al 2017, Krainski et al 2018, Gómez-Rubio 2020, Moraga 2020).

Since the primary goal of modeling was prediction, we approached variable selection explicitly based on cross-validation, rather than model selection criteria. We used spatial blocking cross-validation (Wenger and Olden 2012, Roberts et al 2017) to identify the combination of predictor variables resulting in highest prediction accuracy across different temporal and spatial scales. Using k-means clustering of geographic coordinates we grouped our sampling locations into five spatial blocks, covering the entire Brazilian Amazon (figure S2). The observed deforestation values from each spatial block were then compared with the predicted deforestation values generated with observations from the remaining four blocks, using root mean square error (RMSE) as a measure of prediction accuracy. This spatial blocking cross-validation approach was implemented borrowing code from the spatial leave-one-out cross-validation from the INLAutils R package (Lucas et al 2020).

To assess the influence of the temporal scale choice on prediction accuracy, we quantified deforestation during different time windows (2018-2019, 2017-2019, 2016-2019 and 2015-2019), always using 2019 as reference since it is the year with the latest available land-cover map. We employed data from grids of 25 × 25 km for all base years, given that this grid size represented smaller areas than that of most municipalities in the Brazilian Amazon (figure S3). We then fitted a full model for each base year, containing all 20 predictor variables (forest edge density was the only predictor showing a non-linear effect on deforestation, so it was modeled as a random walk trend). All predictor variables were scaled and centered, and only additive effects were modeled, ignoring possible interactions. We ran spatial blocking cross-validation to compare each of these full models with reduced models where each predictor was removed one by one. The process was repeated starting with a new full model where the predictor variable resulting in the highest drop in RMSE was excluded. We ran several rounds of this variable selection protocol until reaching a model where the removal of any predictor variable did not reduce RMSE and chose this as our final model. Variable selection was performed in the computer cluster described above and took, on average, 62 h per run (base year).

Having identified the combination of predictor variables resulting in highest prediction accuracy for each time window, we then assessed the influence of grid size on prediction accuracy. To determine the influence of the spatial grain choice on prediction accuracy, we quantified deforestation in squared grids of different sizes (5 × 5, 10 × 10, 15 × 15, 20 × 20, 25 × 25, 30 × 30, 35 × 35, and 40 × 40 km) covering the entire Brazilian Amazon. We then fitted models using data from grids of all sizes for a single time window (2018-2019), employing the same set of predictor variables resulting in highest prediction accuracy in the models above (see results). RMSE was then computed for each grid size using spatial blocking five fold cross-validation.

To illustrate how our predictive approach can be down-scaled to smaller areas, we re-ran analyses for a smaller region at a finer spatial scale. We selected a 100 × 100 km area surrounding the Altamira region in the State of Pará, which showed high predicted deforestation across all periods (see results). We then retrieved deforestation and predictor variables for this region at the smallest spatial scale (5 × 5 km), across all years, and ran a full variable selection protocol employing spatial blocking cross-validation. We were thus able to assess how variable selection results and deforestation predictions generated for a smaller region compare to those of the entire Brazilian Amazon.

2.3. Predicting future deforestation

We employed the best fitting INLA-SPDE models for each base year (containing the combination of predictor variables resulting in highest prediction accuracy) to predict future deforestation using the same set of scaled and centered predictors retrieved for the reference year of 2019. Since each model was fitted for a different time window in the past, predictions represent the same time window in the future (2018-2019 models were used to predict 2019-2020 deforestation, while 2016-2019 models predicted deforestation in 2019-2022). We restricted our predictions to three years in the future, as prediction accuracy decreased sharply afterward (see results). We did not assess temporal forecast error because this would have implied moving further into the past (assessing a 3 year prediction would require fitting models on 2013-2016 deforestation to predict 2019), and thus assessing the effect of different deforestation drivers under lower deforestation rates (Silva Junior et al 2021). Models were ran joining estimation and prediction stacks, whereby the latter contained missing values (NA) as response variable. Predicted deforestation proportions for each grid were then transformed to hectares, considering a 30 m pixel resolution (900 m ² = 0.09 ha), saved as vector (shapefile) layers, and used to estimate total predicted deforestation per year as well as deforestation inside protected areas and indigenous lands. We calculated confidence intervals for yearly deforestation estimates by multiplying RMSE from each model by the total number of analyzed pixels across all grids, given that our response variable and error measure were proportions. Finally, we generated interactive maps with the leaflet package (Cheng et al 2019), and static maps using QGIS (QGIS Development Team 2020). A flowchart summarizing the methods to predict recent Amazon deforestation is presented in figure S4.

Recent deforestation was positively associated with forest edge density, the length of roads and waterways, elevation and terrain slope; and negatively associated with distance to urban areas, roads, and indigenous lands, area designated as protected or indigenous land, and municipality GDP per capita (table S3). From these variables, forest edge density and distance to roads showed the largest effect sizes and highest predictive power, as revealed by the change in RMSE (figure 1). Variable selection through spatial blocking cross-validation showed reasonably consistent results across time windows, as eight predictors were selected in all three years, five in two years, and only two were chosen in a single year (figure 1 and table S3). Five variables where excluded in all years (distance to mining and urban areas, length of State roads, proportion of pasture, and aridity; table S3), so they were excluded when assessing prediction accuracy across different grid sizes. Predictive accuracy was highest for shorter time windows and larger grid sizes (RMSE for a 3 year prediction using 25 × 25 km grids was 0.018 representing approximately 1136 ha, figure 2). Moreover, we found a lower temporal consistency in variable selection results when analyzing a smaller region (figure S5), and predictive accuracy was lower when compared with that of the entire Brazilian Amazon (RMSE for a 3 year prediction of the Altamira region was 0.08, representing approximately 189 ha in the 5 × 5 km grid).

Predicted deforestation was largely concentrated in the North-Eastern portions of the Brazilian Amazon, and amounted to 3.36 ± 4.70, 4.84 ± 6.18 and 6.10 ± 7.27 million hectares for 2020, 2021, and 2022, respectively (figures 3 and S6). Deforestation predictions are plausible since predicted deforestation in each grid was always smaller than the area occupied by existing forests in 2019. A substantial fraction of this predicted deforestation is expected to occur inside protected areas and indigenous lands (approximately 20% and 30% of total predicted deforestation, respectively; figure 4). For instance, predicted deforestation in the Altamira region concentrates inside the Ituna/Itatá Indigenous land (figure 3).

4.1. Recent past deforestation

Our results confirm previous studies reporting a significant association between deforestation and length and distance to roads and rivers, protected areas and indigenous lands, and forest edge density (figure 1 and table S3) (Nepstad et al 2006, Laurance et al 2009, Soares-Filho et al 2010, Armenteras et al 2013, Barber et al 2014, Cabral et al 2018). Forest edge density showed the strongest effect size on deforestation (Broadbent et al 2008, Cabral et al 2018), suggesting that forest fragmentation facilitates human access and results in further deforestation. These results indicate that initiatives to reduce fragmentation (through active restoration or natural regeneration) and preserve contiguous forests may reduce deforestation risk (Orsi and Geneletti 2010, Tambosi and Metzger 2013).

Contradicting earlier findings, our models did not reveal significant associations between deforestation and the proportion of pasture (Barona et al 2010, Rosa et al 2013, Faria and Almeida 2016, Jusys 2016) nor the distance to mining areas (Sonter et al 2017). The lack of an effect of pasture suggests that recent deforestation is no longer driven by cattle ranching, which is supported by MapBiomas transition analyses (only 1.5% of all forest in the Brazilian Amazon was transformed into pasturelands between 2015 and 2019). Secondary forests (which were analyzed jointly with primary forests) exhibit different deforestation dynamics than primary forest (Nunes et al 2020), so they could have contributed to mitigate the effect of cattle ranching on deforestation. Alternatively, an intensification of production on current agricultural lands could be reducing demand for new areas (Lapola et al 2014, Strassburg et al 2014). The absence of an effect of distance to mining areas, on the other hand, suggests that the result reported by Sonter et al ( 2017) is restricted to older mining leases (they analyzed operations approved before 2005) and deforestation accumulated for a longer time window (2005-2015). Since our posterior means were always positive (indicating increasing deforestation further away from mining areas) and credible intervals wide, our results suggest that recent deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon is not driven by mining, although distance to mining sites might help predict future deforestation in specific regions (figure S5). We also found higher deforestation associated with steeper terrain and higher elevation, whereas Bax et al ( 2016) and Rosa et al ( 2013) found lower deforestation at higher elevations. This discrepancy suggests that the effect of elevation on deforestation may change in time (indeed we only detected a significant elevation effect in 2016). Considering that elevation across the Brazilian Amazon is relatively low (median = 173 m above sea level, 95% quantile = 483.07 masl), our findings suggest that areas which are more prone to flooding (lowlands and flatlands) are less attractive for human development and therefore less likely to be deforested.

In line with previous studies, we found higher deforestation in municipalities with lower per capita GDP (Faria and Almeida 2016, Jusys 2016) (but total municipality GDP was found to be positively associated with deforestation (Rosa et al 2013)), suggesting that municipalities with a higher income per capita have lower incentives to cut down the forest. Although the indigenous population in Brazil shows lower socioeconomic and health indicators than the non-indigenous population (Coimbra et al 2013), their traditional way of life and culture depends on forest resources, so they have incentives to avoid deforestation. Indeed, our results show an inhibitory effect of indigenous lands and protected areas on deforestation, as expected (Nepstad et al 2006, Baragwanath and Bayi 2020). However, we also found higher deforestation in the proximity of indigenous lands and protected areas, which suggests increasing pressure on protected forests (Guerra et al 2019).

4.2. Predicted future deforestation

Variable selection through spatial blocking cross-validation showed more consistent results across temporal than across spatial scales (figures 1 and S5), revealing that the effect of different deforestation drivers is strongly dependent on the chosen spatial scale (Fletcher and Fortin 2018). These results suggest that a flexible variable selection approach yields higher predictive accuracy than those based on a fixed set of predictors with pre-defined effects on deforestation (Soares-Filho et al 2006, Brito et al 2019). Our deforestation predictions were nevertheless constrained by the small number of dynamic variables available (those which changed over time, table S2), which limited the temporal resolution of our predictions. For example, the available layer of unpaved roads has not been updated since 2012, so our models likely underestimated the effect of road proximity (although a dynamic forest edge density predictor might have partially compensated for this limitation). Moreover, deforestation intensity may vary with time since human interventions (Sales et al 2017). For instance, the effect of distance to roads was stronger when considering longer time windows (figure 1). Incorporating temporal information into spatial layers could thus transform some of our static into dynamic variables, thereby improving predictive accuracy. Additionally, integrating climate forecasts could also improve our models by helping them capture feedbacks between climate change and deforestation (Bonan 2008, Staal et al 2020, Xu et al 2020). As the temporal resolution of land cover maps increases (MapBiomas maps for any given year are usually released in August of the following year), the temporal forecast error could be assessed by comparing short-term predictions with recently quantified deforestation. Finally, comparing our approach with other spatial modeling techniques (Bhatt et al 2017) could help identify the method resulting in highest predictive accuracy.

Our forecasts indicate that a forested area larger than Denmark will be lost by 2021 inside the Brazilian Amazon. Although our predictions are plausible, we note that confidence intervals for Amazon-wide deforestation estimates are broad, and caution that we are likely underestimating future deforestation since rates of deforestation increased in 2020 compared with 2019 (Silva Junior et al 2021). However, our spatial blocking cross-validation approach maximized predictive accuracy across the biome (Roberts et al 2017), so we believe that the spatial pattern of our predicted deforestation should remain largely unaffected by the total amount of forest loss. The bulk of predicted deforestation was concentrated in the North-Eastern portions of the so-called arc of deforestation (Aldrich et al 2012), in the States do Pará and Maranhão. However, several other regions outside this arc of deforestation are also expected to lose large forested areas, including lands west of Boa Vista (Roraima State) and regions surrounding or overlapping with protected areas and indigenous lands (figures 2 and S6). The large predicted deforestation inside protected areas and indigenous lands (figure 4) is alarming, since it indicates that ongoing deforestation occurring inside these areas is expected to increase, thus undermining the role of these critical instruments to safeguard the Amazon forest (Nepstad et al 2006, Soares-Filho et al 2010, Rosa et al 2013, Maretti et al 2014, Faria and Almeida 2016, Cabral et al 2018, Brito et al 2019). Indeed, the current Brazilian government has taken actions that undermine the protection of standing forests and promote deforestation (Ferrante and Fearnside 2019, Pereira et al 2020).

Here we implement a straightforward, flexible, and reproducible approach to model Amazon deforestation and generate short-term deforestation forecasts for the entire biome or regions of special interest. Our results reveal that millions of hectares of forests are expected to be lost by 2022, with a substantial amount of deforestation taking place inside protected areas and indigenous lands. Short-term deforestation forecasts provide key information to develop preventive measures suited to the specific needs of certain areas, such as restoration and conservation initiatives, sustainable agro-industry schemes, recreational programs, or increased surveillance (Nepstad et al 2014, Tollefson 2015, Viana et al 2016, Levis et al 2020). We are nevertheless aware of the need for appropriate vehicles to disseminate these forecasts to the general public, promote social and environmental accountability, and thereby help regional stakeholders plan actions to prevent deforestation. In spite of the gloomy forecast, some remarkable initiatives are already making progress ( https://plataforma.alerta.mapbiomas.org/; https://amazonialegalemdados.info/).

We thank Tim Lucas, Nathaniel Pope, and Denis Valle for advice on statistical analyses. Funding was provided by Instituto Tecnológico Vale and Conselho Nacional de Desenvolvimento Científico e Tecnológico (301616/2017-5, 444268/2018-9, 203440/2019-6, and 201743/2020-5).

The data that support the findings of this study are openly available at the following URL/DOI: https://github.com/rojaff/AmazonDeforestation.

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Forecasting deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon to prioritize conservation efforts

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Rodolfo Jaffé Samia Nunes Jorge Filipe Dos Santos Markus Gastauer Tereza C Giannini Wilson Nascimento Jr Marcio Sales Carlos M Souza Jr Pedro W Souza-Filho Robert J Fletcher Jr 6,1,2, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 3, 3, 1,4 and 5 * Environmental Research Letters , Volume 16 , Number 8 Citation Rodolfo Jaffé et al 2021 Environ.

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I found this recent journal to be a quite interesting expansion on the topic of urbanization that was discussed throughout module 12. The authors have looked in depth at correlations between urbanization, per capita carbon emissions, and other life factors- such as unemployment, population density, and per capita GDP. Though the main focus of this study was to examine the human effects on CO2 levels, I found the topic to be pertinent to what we have been learning in this class. 154 countries were examined in this study, and the strongest correlation was found to be between unemployment rate and urbanization on the levels of CO2 emitted per country.

Citation: Wang, Q., & Li, L. (2021, October). The effects of population aging, life expectancy, unemployment rate, population density, per capita GDP, urbanization on per capita carbon emissions. ScienceDirect. Retrieved November 14, 2021, from https://doi.org/10.1016/j.spc.2021.06.029.

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Citizen Science: Participation in Agricultural Research

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Citizen Science: Participation in Agricultural Research

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Citizen Science plays a pivotal role in the scope and efficiency of research, particularly in a field like agriculture where impacts span across many social groups. There are many positive effects that come from the inclusion of Citizen Science within professional research, one of which is increased sustainability. By using input and accounts from those who are directly affected by environmental policy, a deeper sense of understanding is developed of the impacts these policies will have. A better comprehension of issues is given to researchers when they collaborate with participants that are directly related to their decisions. The sustainability and effectiveness of imploring Citizen Science was not something I had considered prior to reading this journal, and it goes further to prove the importance of this element within conservation research.

Citation: van de Gevel, J., van Etten, J., & Deterding, S. (2020, September 15). Citizen science breathes new life into participatory agricultural research. A Review. Agronomy for Sustainable Development. Retrieved November 17, 2021, from https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s13593-020-00636-1#Sec5.

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Introduction

Participatory research describes research that is done not only for or on but also with people. What sets it apart from conventional research is a deliberate, focused interaction between researchers and participants leading to changes in research design, technology development, and/or research evaluation (Ashby 1996; Lilja and Bellon 2008). While farmers have historically participated in all manner of agricultural research, farmer-participatory research became a specific focus in the agricultural sciences in the early 1980s. This stemmed from the recognition that farmers in marginal areas generally did not benefit from technological advances and thus that more effort should be invested into more inclusive approaches (Chambers 1994; Sumberg and Okali 1997; Johnson et al. 2003; Biggs 2008; Scoones et al. 2008). In farmer-participatory research, farmers would be involved directly in setting research goals, selecting seeds, observing pests and crop diseases, or evaluating research products. The expectation was that such participation would help to tailor research to the needs and criteria of participants, which would lead to new insights, products, and services that were more useful for their prospective target audience and would empower participants in the process (see Section 2 below).

Researcher Naaman Orodi explains how to install weather sensors in sorghum trial fields in Nyando, western Kenya (July 2014). Credit: Jeske van de Gevel

Despite this general disappointment with participatory research, it is currently receiving renewed interest with approaches that make more intensive use of new digital technologies, generally denominated as "citizen science." Citizen science has in common with "traditional" participatory research that it aims to produce new scientific knowledge while increasing public understanding of science and democratizing the scientific process (Cooper et al. 2015). Several initiatives have engaged in "crowdsourced" citizen science, engaging farmers and other actors involved with food systems in scientific experimentation and observation at scale, making use of digital media (for an overview of citizen science initiatives in agriculture; see Minet et al. 2017 and Ryan et al. 2018). In the context of citizen science in agriculture, the term "citizen" refers to farmers and members of the general public involved with agriculture "who actively contribute to science with their intellectual effort or surrounding knowledge or with their tools and resources. Participants provide experimental data and facilities for researchers, raise new questions and co-create a new scientific culture" (Green paper on Citizen Science 2013).

An obvious question is if citizen science can address the challenges that prevented participatory research in agriculture from becoming mainstream. Current enthusiasm over new digital technologies and research formats can easily overshadow concerns well-founded in decades of trial-and-error experience. In the worst case, ignoring the past can lead us to repeat its mistakes and failures. Only if citizen science can overcome existing barriers of participatory research will it meaningfully contribute to agricultural sustainability. Figure 1

To address the question if citizen science can realize the promises of participatory research in agriculture, we take a step-by-step approach. First, we review the relevant research literature to chart the promises of participatory research, and the different expectations on what participation in research should contribute (Section 2). The possible contribution of citizen science needs to be measured against these expectations (or these expectations need to be adjusted). Then, we explore the question why participatory styles of research have not become mainstream in agriculture (Section 3). Citizen science will eventually have to face the same barriers as other participatory research, especially when the initial enthusiasm will have waned off and long-term sustainability becomes a main concern. Finally, we assess recent research that explores the fresh perspectives that citizen science brings to participatory research (Section 4). We conclude by discussing whether and how citizen science can fulfill the promises of participatory research and address the extant barriers that have prevented participatory research from becoming mainstream (Section 5).

The promises of participatory research in agriculture

The existing discourse on participatory research in agriculture highlights three major potential positive impacts: increased effectiveness and efficiency of the research process, empowering marginalized social groups, and improved environmental sustainability of developed solutions.

Increased effectiveness and efficiency

According to Johnson et al. ( 2004), participatory research can strengthen feedback links between researchers and participants, which lead to a better understanding of the problems, more appropriate solutions, and faster adoption. It takes into account farmers' constraints and contextual factors from the outset, rather than designing optimal technologies on research stations and then undertaking a process of adaptive research (Collinson 2000). More generally, combining formal research and informal farmer knowledge practices can increase effectiveness by offering more appropriate solutions at local level (Sumberg et al. 2003; Hoffmann et al. 2007). More efficiency can be achieved by outsourcing certain tasks to participants, and by avoiding separate research and adaptation phases.

Empowerment

A main motivation to engage participants in agricultural research is empowerment (Sumberg et al. 2003). Some authors state that participatory research can enable marginalized groups in society to make their own decisions by equipping them with basic research skills or by giving them a voice in decision-making processes (Bunch 1982; Chambers 1994; Cornwall and Jewkes 1995). Several authors frame empowerment in terms of redressing some existing inequality, be it between different social groups, between researcher and farmer, or between different groups among farmer participants. For Bunch ( 1982), any intervention needs to consider the different socio-political rights of different groups within society; otherwise, interventions might reinforce existing inequalities and increase the power of the elite. For Chambers ( 1994), empowerment requires a change of role for the researchers to equip farmers with the tools to do their own appraisals and needs assessments. He states that researchers should develop methods that allow farmers to participate in a non-extractive way. Another theme that is often mentioned is cognitive justice. Cornwall and Jewkes ( 1995) state that "ultimately, participatory research is about respecting and understanding the people with and for whom researchers work. It is about developing a realization that local people are knowledgeable and that they, together with researchers, can work towards analyses and solutions" (p. 1674). While participation can empower farmers and other participants, it can empower researchers as well. Farmers' voluntary participation and their sense of ownership in research processes can be a form of legitimization for research and its institutions (Ashby 1996; Lilja and Bellon 2008; Johnson et al. 2004).

Empowerment depends on the ability of participatory activities to be inclusive in terms of recruitment and creating space for people to express themselves. Inclusion spanned across socioeconomic status, location, gender, cultural norms, or poverty (Johnson et al. 2003; Cornwall 2008; Waddington et al. 2014). Participation of women in agricultural research tends to be lower than that of men (Cornwall 2008; Pope 2013). This can be related to male-dominated mixed meetings in which women's voices remain limited (Joseph and Andrew 2008), explicit targeting of organized or literate farmers (Phillips et al. 2014), or cultural sensitivity, for instance targeting married women only (Najjar et al. 2013). Larger-scale or more innovative farmers are more likely to enter participatory research due to selection criteria of extension agents or farmers' self-selection (Anderson and Feder 2004), as well as confidence levels from previous experience in participatory research (Johnson et al. 2003). The design of the intervention or the composition of the research team can influence social inclusion through the quality of communication or social distance between researchers and farmers (Sumberg et al. 2013, p. 253; Trimble et al. 2014) or the timing and duration of activities, which can disproportionately affect participants who are time-poor (Hoffmann et al. 2007; Chambers 1994). Exclusion effects may be partially overcome by carefully deciding selection criteria and recruitment strategies beforehand (Friis-Hansen 2008). Also, carefully selecting formats of participation can activate mechanisms of social inclusion. Deliberate participation ("talking") through group discussions, for example, can exclude marginal voices due to leadership effects, while performative participation ("doing") can generate alternative spaces for expression (Richards 2007). Even though participation in agricultural research does not automatically empower farmers, there is broad agreement that appropriate participation is necessary if agricultural research is to contribute to empowerment.

Sustainability

Why has participatory research not become mainstream?

Participatory research has successfully created "farmer-centric" approaches to developing agricultural technology, for example, through the development of farmer innovation networks (Waters-Bayer et al. 2007; Abrol and Gupta 2014), market-led development, participatory approaches to learning and impact assessment (Douthwaite and Hoffecker 2017; Heinemann et al. 2017), and farmer-to-farmer innovations (Van Mele 2006; Kiptot and Franzel 2014; Chowdhury et al. 2015). These approaches have responded to the changing role of farmer organizations (Hellin et al. 2009; Ton et al. 2014) and the development of more demand-driven extension services (Aker 2010; Humphries et al. 2015) and are embedded in more integrated approach toward agricultural research through multi-stakeholder innovation platforms (Schut et al. 2016; Douthwaite et al. 2017; Pigford et al. 2018). At the same time, co-design of farming system approaches has emerged (Meynard et al. 2012; Berthet et al. 2018) and participatory modeling and simulation approaches have made innovative contributions (Naivinit et al. 2010). In spite of this proliferation of approaches, we observe that they remain still unconnected to much biophysical research in agriculture in national and international research organizations.

This lack of mainstreaming needs to be explained. Two major issues emerge from the literature: the institutional and epistemic workings of agricultural research, and a lack of research and innovation around participation itself.

Entrenched scientific institutions and incentives

These institutional and epistemological barriers are in turn perpetuated by several other systemic issues of agricultural research. First, competition between institutions and individuals for funding and academic merit prevents sharing data and learning experiences and generates a culture of knowledge hoarding (Hoffmann et al. 2007; Schot and Geels 2008; Abah et al. 2011; Pope 2013; Waters-Bayer et al. 2015). Second, high staff turnover inhibits the uptake and transfer of "new" participatory approaches (Johnson et al. 2003). Third, research incentives are not connected to accountability toward end users (Schut et al. 2016). Fourth, staff performance management lacks appropriate mechanisms to incentivize scientific workers to deliver end-user impact (Anderson and Feder 2004). Thus, as research systems move to higher accountability and client orientation, participatory research may become stronger (cf. Sumberg et al. 2013).

Lacking research and innovation around participation itself

A second barrier to mainstreaming is lacking reflexive research around participation itself. In areas of agricultural research in which participatory methods were first applied, one finds a limited and relatively static repertoire of participatory methods in use (Sumberg et al. 2013). This extends to the way participation itself is conceptualized. Many authors stay close to Arnstein's ( 1969) "Ladder of Citizen Participation" (Biggs 1989; Pretty 1995; Lilja and Ashby 1999). Arnstein classified citizen participation according to the degree of power of citizens in decision-making processes, from nonparticipation through tokenism to true citizen participation. Biggs ( 1989) similarly describes four modes of participation in agricultural research as contractual (farmers are hired to participate in experiments or provide land), consultative (farmers' opinions are sought to plan interventions), collaborative (researchers and farmers work together in researcher-designed projects), and collegiate (researchers and farmers work together as a team to strengthen the informal research system). Lilja and Ashby ( 1999) later added a fifth mode of farmer experimentation: farmers experiment independently without interference or instruction of researchers. In these categorizations, variation in participation is generally plotted along a single axis of relative power or influence of researchers versus farmers. Arnstein's Ladder and derived categorizations imply a normative stance-more and more "genuine" participation is always better (Neef and Neubert 2011). It is telling that few have tried to develop more sophisticated perspectives on farmer participation or engage more directly in designing new participatory methods (Neef and Neubert 2011). The noncanonical status of participation and its highly normative conceptualizations seem to have led agricultural researchers to take participatory formats "as a given," focusing on their legitimation and adoption, rather than their selective and dynamic adaptation to different contexts.

This contrasts with digital technology design, which will be discussed in relation to citizen science below. In this field, researchers critically examine participation and deliberately and playfully explore and evaluate new methods for participation. McCarthy and Wright ( 2017) point out that Arnstein's Ladder is of limited value in participatory design contexts (in which participatory technology development in agriculture can be included), as it originated in public participation in a type of policy decision-making where relatively well-defined questions need to be answered. In design processes, in contrast, participation can and should take place in multi-dimensional, dynamically changing constellations of agency, control, self-determination and power, addressing, and often reframing ill-defined, significant problems. This has led them and many others to explore alternative formats for configuring participation suited to the particular needs and contexts of different projects.

This renewed innovation and reflection around participatory research have influenced some areas within agricultural sciences much more than others. The static situation observed by Sumberg et al. ( 2013) seems to be applicable especially to those areas that generate data through field experiments and observational studies. The explanation advanced above is that a conceptual deficit around participation persists across the agricultural sciences and has impeded a more versatile design of participatory approaches. One innovative impulse may come from participatory approaches around systems modeling. In the following, we address the question if citizen science provides another impulse to rethinking participation in agricultural research.

New impulses of citizen science

To assess the potential of citizen science to bring a fresh perspective to participatory agricultural research, we discuss four novel aspects around participation that have emerged as part of the new experiences with citizen science. After introducing the concept of citizen science, we firstly discuss the new attention it has brought to the study of participants' motivations. Secondly, we explore role differentiation in citizen science. The complexity of citizen science projects has led to fresh thinking on how participants can take up different roles in projects. Thirdly, citizen science's emphasis on education has led to different ways to design and evaluate projects. We discuss how these experiences can provide opportunities to rethink participation in agricultural research and shed new light on its "empowerment agenda." Lastly, citizen science has made use of digital tools to support the experience of participants. We discuss how this relates to the challenge of participatory agricultural research to address social inclusion issues.

Citizen science and participatory research

Beyond its conceptual diversity, citizen science involves distinctive new elements or styles of research and participation that were absent or weak in previous participatory research, enabled by internet platforms, mobile phones, and other information and communication tools (ICTs) fostering computer-mediated communication, networking, and collaboration (Dickinson et al. 2012; Minet et al. 2017). Specifically, it makes use of so-called social computing formats and tools, for example, prediction markets, reputation systems, crowdsourcing, collaborative editing and filtering, and distributed sensing (Knol et al. 2008). Bonney et al. ( 2016) show that Internet technologies have made public engagement in scientific research more accessible and widespread in its ability to recruit large numbers participants and volunteers, including marginal groups. Large and complex datasets can be made available for piecemeal processing and analysis by many separate individuals online. As a result, digital tools have changed the scope of volunteer participation, enhanced the potential spatial and temporal coverage of data collection (McCormick 2012; Solli et al. 2013; Fuccillo et al. 2015), and improved data and image analysis (Crall et al. 2011; Cooper et al. 2015).

Citizen science in agriculture is a small but growing practice (Minet et al. 2017; Ryan et al. 2018). Agricultural research occupies a small percentage of the total effort dedicated to citizen science, with less than 2% of peer-reviewed articles reported to combine the term citizen science and agriculture (Ryan et al. 2018). Citizen science has proven efficient to collect observations from farmers and other nonprofessionals through digital "crowdsourcing" approaches (Minet et al. 2017). For example, PlantVillage uses digital tools to improve smallholder farming, involving different efforts to monitor pests and diseases in agricultural crops ( https://plantvillage.psu.edu/). Similarly, large-scale on-farm experimentation is being done through citizen science format focused on crop variety evaluation (van Etten et al. 2019; https://climmob.net). Table 1 provides important examples of citizen science in different fields, including agriculture.

Table 1 Examples of citizen science efforts in different scientific disciplines

The second win emphasizes the educational value of citizen science. Learning takes different forms. Participants gain new skills or content knowledge (Brossard et al. 2005; Evans et al. 2005), improve scientific literacy or understanding (Trumbull et al. 2000; Jordan et al. 2011), connect deeper with their environment (Newman et al. 2017) or with other people (Bell et al. 2008), and enhance environmental stewardship (Evans et al. 2005; Ballard et al. 2017). Some authors emphasize learning as a more interactive process, taking on board the perspectives of participants. Citizen science engages participants in decision-making processes (Shirk et al. 2012) and addresses local community concerns (Middleton 2006; Ottinger 2010). These different benefits of citizen science closely match those of participatory agricultural research (Section 2 above)

The goals and benefits of citizen science and its diversity may create the impression that citizen science is little more than a new label for participatory research. But even though there are important areas of convergence, citizen science shows some important differences. These not only reflect new methodological possibilities afforded by digital technologies but also the origin of citizen science, which emerged predominantly from rich economies and academic natural science research. Participatory agricultural research, in contrast, originated largely in and around applied agricultural research focusing on poor rural areas. In this sense, the differences between citizen science and participatory agricultural research are arguably not only scientific but also social. These differences in origins and trajectories make it interesting to explore possible ways to cross-fertilize between the two areas. The following sections explore different aspects of innovation within citizen science that address identified challenges of participatory agricultural research

Unpacking participant motivation and engagement

One of the distinguishing features of citizen science is the active involvement of citizens in scientific research with mutual benefits for both the scientists and the citizens (Robinson et al. 2018). This has sparked new research on the motivation and level of engagement of participants. Citizen science projects have often relied on the intrinsic motivation of participants (and rarely payment) and relatively open forms of (online) recruitment (Crowston and Fagnot 2008). The volunteer nature of citizen science participants and the shift away from monetary compensation makes a more reciprocal perspective obligatory, and sharpens the question how to attract, engage, and retain participants (Cooper and Lewenstein 2016). Hence, researchers have felt a strong need to understand why participants join and keep contributing to citizen science projects, leading to findings that are inspiring for participatory agricultural research as well. Major reasons to participate in online citizen science efforts are the motivation to contribute to scientific research (Raddick et al. 2013), gaining content understanding and skills, "helping" (referring to the positive, prosocial feelings of volunteering), as well as participants' understanding of the process as well as its usability (Reed et al. 2013). Geoghegan et al. ( 2016) and Frensley et al. ( 2017) found that a contribution to science, sharing knowledge, and an interest in conservation were the main motivational factors for environmental citizen science projects. Hobbs and White ( 2012) found that personal benefits such as learning, enjoyment, as well as health and well-being are driving motivations in wildlife monitoring. They report that bird tracking even alleviated symptoms of depression for some of the participants. Dehnen-Schmutz et al. ( 2016) asked British and French farmers about their willingness to contribute to agricultural research as citizen scientists. Relatively few farmers deemed financial compensation to be essential, but this differed between tasks related to observation and data collection (where 9-18% rated financial compensation as essential) and tasks that involve experimentation (37%). Beza et al. ( 2017) studied the motivations of farmers to contribute to agricultural citizen science experiments in India, Honduras, and Ethiopia. The ability to contribute to scientific research and an interest in sharing information were found to be the most important factors. When farmers were asked about what they expected in return for participation, they generally mentioned information and technical advice, and rarely mentioned monetary compensation. These findings imply that approaches that mobilize intrinsic motivations are also feasible when working with resource-poor farmers.

The literature on volunteering makes fine-grained distinctions between the different factors that influence participants' motivation in different phases and roles and how this relates to the characteristics of participants (Clary et al. 1998; Grube and Piliavin 2000; Penner 2002; Piliavin et al. 2002; Unell and Castle 2012; van Ingen and Wilson 2017). This literature has influenced research on motivation in citizen science. Crowston and Fagnot ( 2008) distinguish between initial, sustained, and meta-contributors. Initial contributors are driven by curiosity, in combination with having time available to contribute and feeling confident in their expertise and self-efficacy. Sustained contributors are motivated by feelings of fulfillment or obligation to the project, in addition to an intrinsic motivation in completing the tasks or by the feedback received from the activities or from other participants. Meta-contributors go beyond what is to be expected from volunteers and can help with building up the research. They are driven by a sense of group belonging as well as responsibility toward the group to participate fully as well as by intrinsic motivation from the activities. There is empirical support for the relevance of this classification of contributors. Jennett et al. ( 2016) find that initial motivation to participate is driven by curiosity and an interest in or wish to contribute to science. However, sustained participation depends on continued interest, a "feeling they had aptitude for the task", as well as establishing a "rhythm of working." Participants develop their skills by participating on a regular basis, which makes participation also more rewarding. It also increases the opportunities for social engagement. Motivations also tend to change over the lifetime of participants.

Some authors choose to group volunteers in terms of their consistency in volunteering: constant volunteers have volunteered consistently throughout their adult lives, serial volunteers have volunteered intermittently, and trigger volunteers have only started volunteering after retirement for example (Hogg 2010). Geoghegan et al. ( 2016) found that sustained volunteering depended on the ability to develop skills or gain knowledge and how much project feedback and communication were appreciated. This is echoed by Rotman et al. ( 2012), who see egoism as the main reason for engagement in citizen science in terms of personal curiosity, previous engagement, existing hobby and affiliation with the subject, or gaining experience. Secondary to this are motivations driven by recognition or attribution, feedback, community involvement, and advocacy. Differentiated motivation factors also correlated with socioeconomic factors. Frensley et al. ( 2017) found that prior experience in citizen science participation and a higher gross income are drivers for sustained participation. People tend to drop out due to time constraints and a perceived lack of ability to use online tools. Eveleigh et al. ( 2014) argue that "super volunteers" (who contribute much time) are important, but "dabblers" (casual volunteers) also need to be engaged. Generally, there are limited numbers of super volunteers, but large number of dabblers and drop-outs who give up after their initial participation yet remain interested. They argue that citizen science projects should make space for both types of volunteers yet approach them in different ways. They indicate the need to design for multiple points of entry without "forcing individuals into a sustained commitment" (p. 2992) by encouraging them to gradually increase their contribution, emphasizing the liberty of choice of participants, designing small tasks, using feedback loops to raise interest in the project, or making former participants reconsider joining again. Nov et al. ( 2014) show that tapping into extrinsic forms of motivation of volunteers might be useful too, as the quality of contributions is mostly affected by collective motives or social norms and reputation.

In summary, citizen science has generated substantial insights into the reasons why people participate and how this should affect the design of research projects. Participatory agricultural research has generally focused on farmer motivation from a narrow cost-benefit focus (Section 2.1) and often relied on monetary payments or free input provision to incentivize farmers rather than taking up the question of motivation as a wider design consideration. Citizen science stimulates thinking about motivation as an integrated part of research design and as a critical area of inquiry.

Rethinking participation

From the practical perspective of designing citizen science projects, Purcell et al. ( 2012) indicate that projects should cater for multiple points of entry by offering experiences for different comfort zones. This is linked to insights on how motivation can dynamically change over time but also to different levels of skill or cognitive ability of participants. For example, participants in citizen science projects are not necessarily non-scientists, but can be professional scientists who contribute voluntary in their free time (ECSA 2020). Differences in experience or familiarity with research processes can be found in any sample of citizen scientists requiring strategies to ensure that learning is supported by materials catering for different groups, as their abilities to participate in terms of time, labor, or learning needs are likely to differ. Not every actor needs to be involved in scientific research at the same level or needs to attain the same learning goals. Science, according to the authors, should be one of the many resources that individuals can draw upon to make informed decisions. If scientific literacy is a collective property, then participatory projects should set learning outcomes that cater for different forms and levels of participation. This is also "more consistent with a democratic approach in which people make decisions about their own lives and interests" (ECSA 2020).

Changing accountabilities and challenging epistemologies

Designing participation

A characteristic feature of most citizen science projects is that they use digital technologies to facilitate data transmission, communication, and collaborations, and to enable participation at a scale that was previously unattainable. Today, hundreds if not thousands of citizen science websites and applications exist and are used by people from different age groups or backgrounds, and with different skills and motivations. The design of these digital technologies powerfully shapes the experiences and action opportunities of participants (Sharma et al. 2019). Researchers are therefore collaborating with professional digital developers and human-computer interaction (HCI) specialists, and as a result, design issues around data quality, sustained participation, and adoption of tools and technologies are now better understood (Skarlatidou et al. 2019a).

HCI builds on a long tradition in ergonomics, the design of artifacts, and systems to fit human capabilities and needs. It evolved from improving the usability of early computing devices to a multidisciplinary field which includes participatory design and community interaction to understand and improve all aspects of humans interacting with and through an increasingly ubiquitously computer-mediated world (Vines et al. 2012; Preece 2016; Caroll 2017). User-centered design lies at the heart of HCI, involving methods and principles that put the needs, abilities, and constraints of a technology's "end user" front and center in design (Caroll 2017). Citizen science has connected with HCI from the outset, using HCI and user-centered design concepts and methods to enhance the experience of citizen scientists and configure complex constellations of participation between people and machines. Hence, there is a rich and growing literature on citizen science HCI (for reviews, see Newman et al. 2010; Kim et al. 2011; Wiggins and Crowston 2011). For example, Sturm and Tscholl ( 2019) indicated the importance of user feedback for participatory design approaches by distinguishing between general user feedback, contributory user feedback and co-creational user feedback to be able to cater for different types of volunteers. Spiers et al. ( 2019) explore user issues and volunteer behavior in 63 online citizen science projects and found that many subtle design choices influence how and how much interaction takes place and, ultimately, who participates or not. Skarlatidou et al. ( 2019b) present a series of highly specific design considerations based on a systematic review of the literature and conclude that user studies should be fully integrated in any citizen science project design. Sullivan et al. ( 2014) describe how to design citizen science projects for both data quantity and data quality. In addition, there has been substantial research on how to design effective platforms for citizen involvement in science as well as designing incentive systems aimed at motivating people to participate (cf. Cooke 2000; Kim et al. 2011; Shirk et al. 2012; West and Pateman 2016; Edelson, Kirn and Workshop Participants 2018).

While citizen science has placed participants' motivations front and center, and opened new, differentiated forms of conceptualizing and organizing participation, thanks to its intersection with HCI, it has also paid sustained attention to the detail design and design processes of volunteer participation, embracing user-centered and participatory design methods. Deeper engagement of agricultural citizen science with the wider citizen science community and HCI research would be beneficial. For participatory agricultural research, this could lead to an acceleration of learning through exchange of insights and more systematic digital design processes, potentially leading to innovations in areas such as interaction design of data collection tools or gamification of experiences (Beza et al. 2018).

Conclusions

We indicated several reasons why participatory research has not become mainstream in the agricultural technology development cycle. First, there has been a lack of strategic-level investment within agricultural research institutes in the structures needed to implement effective participatory processes. Even though farmer organizations and private sector research initiatives have been involved in multi-stakeholder innovation platforms over the recent years, this did not necessarily lead to an effective inclusion of participatory approaches in agricultural research. Second, most institutions are using incentive systems that favor data production over impact. The outcomes of participatory processes are often part of wider dynamic processes and more difficult to measure than concrete research outputs. Planning, resource allocation, and evaluation of participatory research do generally not ensure that its findings will affect decisions on the design of new products or future research priorities. This has resulted in a relatively low accountability toward the end user of research outputs. Third, competition between institutions and a resulting lack of institutional learning has hindered the progress of participatory research in terms of theory building and sharing its successes and its limitations. Finally, the discourse on participatory agricultural research has been dominated by a relatively one-dimensional view of participation and the notion that "more participation is better." All of these have affected the perceived success of participatory projects.

It could be argued that citizen science will break through many of these barriers simply because it can reduce costs per data point. But citizen science externalizes certain costs to citizen scientists and creates new ones, such as maintaining digital tools, data verification, managing online communities, and facilitating communication among large groups of stakeholders. Therefore, cost reduction per se should not be expected to be the only or even main reason for citizen science to break through previous barriers. In our view, the main difference with previous participatory research formats is that citizen science can involve more diverse ways of distributing work across stakeholders and aligning these kinds of work with different types of motivation to participate. Such alignment requires careful design of citizen science projects. Here, citizen science could make inroads by challenging some of the concepts of participation that have held sway in agricultural participatory research. Citizen science has brought attention to more diverse configurations of participation that can involve more differentiated roles of participants, both more active and more passive forms of participation, and a stronger emphasis on the design of the experience of participants. In this sense, citizen science can help participatory science to break out of a straitjacket that was highly normative, opening a wider space of experimentation to creatively conceive and test different configurations of participation. This opening up could and should go hand in hand with an opening to more scientific and epistemic accountability to stakeholders and more open forms of science. Only then are citizen science-inspired forms of participation likely to overcome the institutional and epistemological barriers that have revealed themselves over the last four decades.

Even then, extractive forms are still possible within a citizen science context. Citizen science will need to address new dimensions of social inclusion: potential citizen scientists are likely to have unequal access to digital means of communication and will have different levels of digital literacy. Citizen science, however, has renewed an interest in participant motivation and the use of digital tools to tailor and monitor participants' experiences building on human-computer interaction research, which can support new ways to monitor and evaluate social inclusion.

Lastly, we believe that citizen science stimulates innovation in participatory agricultural research because it connects different disciplines that can learn much from each other. Much creativity can be unleashed when agricultural scientists work with digital designers, human-computer interaction researchers, and get involved in the wider community of scientists that are engaged in citizen science, such as ecologists and environmental scientists. Also, citizen science involves data science challenges that transcend disciplines, such as dealing with "opportunistic" sampling and certain biases in citizen science data. This is another area where mutual exchange between disciplines can stimulate creativity.

In summary, citizen science has the potential to provide an impulse to participatory agricultural research by providing opportunities to reconfigure cost-motivation-accountability combinations using digital tools, by opening up a larger conceptual space of experimentation to do this, and by stimulating new collaborations between disciplines. With appropriate and persistent institutional support and investment, citizen science can therefore have a lasting impact on how agricultural science engages with farming communities and wider society, and a useful approach to deliver on the promises of participation.

Funding

This study was funded by the McKnight Foundation (grant number 37511) and supported by the Digital Creativity Labs funded by EPSRC/AHRC/Innovate UK (EP/M023265/1). This research was undertaken as part of, and funded by, the CGIAR Research Program on Roots, Tubers and Bananas (RTB) and supported by the CGIAR Trust Fund contributors ( https://www.cgiar.org/funders/).

Author information

Affiliations

1. Digital Creativity Labs, University of York, YO10 5GE, York, United Kingdom

Jeske van de Gevel & Sebastian Deterding

2. Bioversity International, Montpellier, France

Jeske van de Gevel & Jacob van Etten

Contributions

Conceptualization, J.v.d.G. and J.v.E.; Methodology, J.v.d.G. and J.v.E. Investigation, J.v.d.G.; Writing -Original Draft, J.v.d.G. and J.v.E..; Writing J.v.d.G., J.v.E. and S.D.; Funding Acquisition, J.v.E. and J.v.d.G.; Resources, S.D.; Supervision, J.v.E. and S.D.

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Correspondence to Jacob van Etten.

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van de Gevel, J., van Etten, J. & Deterding, S. Citizen science breathes new life into participatory agricultural research. A review. Agron. Sustain. Dev. 40, 35 (2020). https://doi.org/10.1007/s13593-020-00636-1
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Citizen science

Participatory agricultural research

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Citizen science breathes new life into participatory agricultural research. A review - Agronomy for Sustainable Development

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Participatory research can improve the efficiency, effectiveness, and scope of research processes, and foster social inclusion, empowerment, and sustainability. Yet despite four decades of agricultural research institutions exploring and developing methods for participatory research, it has never become mainstream in the agricultural technology development cycle.

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In this Indigenous policy journal, Howie Wolke discusses his proposed 30 by 30 theory for the Earth in comparison to E.O. Wilson's Half Earth Project. The 30/30 proposal suggests the designation of 30% of U.S. land to wilderness as a short term goal. When both of these ideas were first shared with the public, they were met with the same response of people deeming them "unrealistic" and "unattainable". Though Wolke mentions how the 30/30 proposal has been met with more acceptance as time progressed since its introduction, which may be partially due to its more realistic nature compared to E.O. Wilson's 50% plan. The overall opinion has turned to consider 30/30 the minimum amount of land that should be left alone. I learned in this journal that President Joe Biden as well as California governor Gavin Newsom have endorsed 30/30, which offers some hope for the creation of designated wild areas in the future. In addition, the Center for American Progress created a poll that shows support from 86% of Americans for 30/30. It will be interesting to see if this plan comes up in the news in the near future!

Citation: Wolke, H. (2021). Thirty by thirty and half earth: Promises and pitfalls. Indigenous Policy Journal. Retrieved November 17, 2021, from http://blog.indigenouspolicy.org/index.php/ipj/article/view/749/709.

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Thirty by Thirty and Half Earth: Promises and Pitfalls

Howie Wolke*

Republished from Wilderness Watch, Monday, 25 January 2021, https://wildernesswatch.org/uncategorized/thirty-by-thirty-and-half-earth-promises-and-pitfalls.

INTRODUCTION

In 2016, legendary ecologist Edward O. Wilson published Half Earth: Our Planet's Fight for Life. In this remarkable book, Wilson documents the ongoing anthropogenic planet-wide biological meltdown, the greatest extinction event since a meteor crashed into the Gulf of Mexico, about 60 million years ago. As a remedy, Wilson argues for protecting half of the Earth's terrestrial acreage as inviolate nature reserves.

Flash back to the early 1980s. The original wilderness-focused Earth First! suggested that a fair balance for wilderness and civilization might be 50% for each. It was called "crazy", "radical", "unrealistic" and other terms of endearment not fit for print. And in my 1991 book Wilderness on the Rocks, I suggested that 30% of the U.S. be designated wilderness as a short term goal. That was also ridiculed as "unrealistic".

Today, the "Nature Needs Half" coalition is promoting Wilson's vision, and the "Thirty by Thirty" movement is gaining traction in the mainstream political discourse. Its goal is to protect 30% of the Earth's landscape in nature reserves by the year 2030. The 30/30 goal is now considered by many to be attainable. And it is gratifying to see land protection efforts of this magnitude inch their way into the public discourse. The 30/30 goal does not mean that 30% of the land would be designated wilderness in the United States. Wilderness is our highest level of protection and it will be an important part of the equation. But other protective strategies, which also protect natural habitats for wildlife, biodiversity and other ecosystem values, will also be essential, especially for lands that lack wilderness characteristics. The purpose of this essay is to advance the discussion on how to effectively protect nearly a third of the U.S. landscape, including but not limited to designated wilderness.

DISCUSSION

30/30 would be a great start toward Wilson's more thorough vision of Half Earth. But in my view, it is just that: a great start. Increasing numbers of scientists have concluded that 30/30 is the minimum starting point for conserving native biodiversity. The International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN) has endorsed 30/30, along with a growing list of American and international conservation groups.

President Joe Biden has endorsed 30/30, as has California Governor Gavin Newsom. There is also plenty of public support for protecting wildlands. According to a poll by the Center for American Progress, about 86% of Americans support the 30/30 concept, including 76% of polled Republicans. Clearly, when it comes to land protection, there is a huge disconnect between Republican politicians and the rank and file.

The extinction crisis is driven by habitat destruction and fragmentation, pollution, poaching, the proliferation of exotic weed species plus climate change. The meltdown is fueled by a growing human population that continues to expand unabated like a spreading cancer into remaining natural habitats around the globe, displacing native life and ecosystems. Some ecologists estimate that half of the estimated 10 million species that we share the planet with could be extinct or plummeting toward the eternal abyss by late this century. Thus, the need to protect land and water becomes more acute. Conservation biologists assert that we need to protect big interconnected landscapes as nature reserves.

Of course, protecting wild nature isn't just about countering the biological meltdown. Wilderness is the primary repository of 3.5 billion years of organic evolution on this blue green spinning ball of life that we call Earth. Wilderness is the fundamental environment that shaped all known life, including humans, though many deny this primal connection. That's why new wilderness designations and good wilderness stewardship should top the 30/30 agenda, while recognizing that other kinds of land protections will also be essential.

I also believe that wild nature has intrinsic value, something that's worthwhile for its own sake, independent of the multitude of benefits it provides humans. That's my primary motive as a conservationist. Many of us simply love all that is wild-and we know deep in our primate bones that Aldo Leopold said it best: " A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise."

"Untrammeled", "primeval", "natural", and "where the imprint of man's (sic) work is substantially unnoticeable" are phrases used in the 1964 Wilderness Act to define designated wilderness (I believe the authors of the Wilderness Act used the term "natural" to describe a landscape dominated by native plants and animals. Thus I do not consider croplands, livestock pastures and monocultures of exotic weeds to be "natural"). Today's National Wilderness Preservation System encompasses about 111 million acres, or about 4% of the U.S. landscape. Yet about half of that acreage is in Arctic and Subarctic Alaska, whereas only about 2.7% of the lower 48 states is designated Wilderness.

Because of this geographic disparity, for the 30/30 campaign, let's view these two geographies through distinct lenses, so that at least 30% of the lower 48 is protected. And, let's set the 2030 goal for Alaska at 50%. In that vast realm that's still mostly wild, achieving Wilson's goal would be easy, at least from a landscape viewpoint. For starters in Alaska, the Naval Petroleum Reserve (keep that oil in the ground, where it won't harm the atmosphere!), the entire Alaska Range east of Denali, and most of the Chugach and Tongass national forests should all be protected as designated wilderness.

Where do we find 30%-or 50%-of our landscape to protect? Start with the existing National Wilderness Preservation System (2.7% of the lower 48 states). Then, add protections for all roadless areas, wilderness study areas, and backcountry areas administered by our four federal land management agencies. Based upon research I did back in the 1980s, I estimate that roughly 12-15% of the land area of the lower 48 states is in a wilderness or near-wilderness condition. This includes over a hundred million additional acres-according to agency inventories-of wilderness or semi-wilderness quality lands in the lower 48 states, in national forest and BLM-administered roadless areas and Wilderness Study Areas alone! We can also designate many new national parks, monuments and wildlife refuges.

States can also add to the protected acreage by adding parks and wildlife preserves. A few states already maintain significant protected wildland acreages: New York's Adirondack Forest Preserve, for example. In the private domain, large holdings with conservation easements and protected holdings of land trusts and conservancies might also qualify as "protected" lands under 30/30. We can also use additional tax incentives for conservation easements plus the Land and Water Conservation fund to acquire additional conservation lands.

In addition, we can restore the wilds! There is vast potential for wildland restoration ("re-wilding") across tens of millions of acres of the public domain. We can even restore wilderness. The Wilderness Act's authors never intended for the definition of wilderness to preclude lands that were less than pristine. Note that according to the Wilderness Act, the imprint of humanity's work must simply be "substantially unnoticeable". In fact, Congress can and has designated wilderness for lands that had been previously roaded, clearcut and otherwise developed. Once designated, under the Wilderness Act, agencies must manage such lands as wilderness, letting nature re-wild the landscape. In fact, most wilderness areas in the eastern U.S. have been re-wilding themselves, for the most part just by being left alone.

Yet agency bureaucrats routinely violate the Wilderness Act by allowing illegal developments in designated wilderness. And Congress too often enacts wilderness bills with special provisions (for example allowing for off-road vehicular use in wilderness for ranchers) which weaken wilderness protections. Nonetheless, in this imperfect world, designated wilderness remains our highest level of land protection in the U.S., and should be a big component of the 30/30 movement. Thus, as we move toward 30/30, keeping designated wilderness areas truly wild (the primary mission of Wilderness Watch) will assume even more importance!

I mentioned entrenched bureaucrats. Here's an example: According to Custer-Gallatin National Forest Supervisor Mary Erickson, "I view all public lands as being protected." It is hard to believe, I know, but yes, I heard her say that. Thus, in her worldview, giant eroding weed-infested clearcuts, roads gouged across 45-degree slopes (including a 400,000+ mile road network on national forest lands alone!), open- pit mines, oil fields, ORV sacrifice areas, heavily fenced livestock pastures with devastated riparian zones, exotic weed monocultures, dams, pipelines, power corridors, ski areas, summer homes and more constitute the fabric of "protected" public lands. We must guard against bureaucrats who would water down the meaning of "protected" land. Otherwise, 30/30 will be used to simply rubber stamp existing agency mismanagement.

SPECIFICS

Which brings us to the central question of both the Nature Needs Half and the 30/30 movements: "What constitutes 'protected' land?" We need definitive standards in addition to those in the Wilderness Act, which will assure that all of the 30% is really protected.

For example, the U.S. Geological Survey defines 4 levels of land protection called "Gap Status". Status level 1 represents the strictest level of protection and Status 4 the least. Without detailing each of these levels, I would argue that even Gap Status 1 is weak, and that Status levels 2 through 4 represent little more than business as usual for public lands under typical agency multiple (ab)use management. For the record, Gap Status 1 is defined as

An area having permanent protection from conversion of natural land cover and a mandated management plan in operation to maintain a natural state within which disturbance events (of a natural type, frequency, intensity and legacy) are allowed to proceed without interference or are mimicked through management.

Here's another, slightly better definition of protected land utilized by the International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN) and the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP):

A protected area is a clearly defined geographical space, recognized, dedicated and managed, through legal or other effective means, to achieve long term conservation of nature with associated ecosystem services and cultural values.

I propose that we combine the best aspects of the above two definitions, and then further strengthen the definition with a few caveats. My proposed definition of protected land:

A clearly defined geographical area having permanent protection through legal or legislated or other effective means, to achieve long term conservation of nature with associated ecosystem services and cultural values. Natural conditions are maintained and the conversion of natural native land cover is precluded. Natural disturbance events and processes such as wildfire, flood and predation, are allowed and encouraged.

I believe this to be a workable definition, with the following caveats:

Mechanized Travel must be restricted to designated roads within reserves.

New road construction is prohibited.

Resource extraction such as mining, oil drilling and commercial logging are prohibited.

Lands that have been impacted in the past, including logged over lands and lands with limited or primitive road networks, can be included if a management plan is in place to restore and maintain wild and natural conditions (re-wilding).

In some regions of the world, existing subsistence hunting/gathering/fishing rights-preferably via traditional primitive means-might continue, depending upon the circumstance. However, this question probably merits more of a discussion than is practical in this brief overview.

Here are some examples of lands that could constitute our protected 30%:

The National Wilderness Preservation System

National forest and BLM Roadless areas and Wilderness Study Areas

Protected state wildlands such as those in New York's Adirondack Forest Preserve

National Parks

National Monuments

National Wildlife Refuges

Forest Service and BLM-administered multiple use lands in which a plan is in place to restore wild and natural conditions (re-wilding).

Private conservation lands in which natural conditions are maintained via conservation easement or other legal protection(s)

About 24 million acres of lands included in the Northern Rockies Ecosystem Protection Act, which designates new wilderness areas, biological corridors, and wildland recovery areas in the U.S. Northern Rockies.

Protected public and private lands in Montana's growing American Prairie Reserve

Existing and potential biological corridors

Here are a few examples of lands that should NOT be included in the "protection" category:

Lands that are intensively grazed and managed primarily for livestock production

Croplands or manicured urban parks not characterized by native vegetation, even if they are maintained as "open space" by conservation easements

Typical Forest Service- and BLM-administered "multiple use lands" that are managed for timber production, livestock, minerals, and mechanized transportation. As noted above, such lands can be moved into "protected" status if a re-wilding plan replaces "multiple abuse".

And finally, the first step to 30/30 should be a National Wildlands Inventory conducted by an independent panel of scientists to identify both public and privately-owned wildlands that could qualify for some level of protected status under a 30/30 plan. Part of the inventory-and ultimately part of the 30/30 plan-should specifically identify the country's major eco-regions, to assure that each ecoregion has at least one protected area that is large enough (and/or functionally interconnected with other nearby wild areas) to support most of the native keystone species-large carnivores, for example -for that ecosystem.

SUMMARY

Wildland conservation has an opportunity to move forward with a bold plan to protect wilderness and other wild habitats on nearly one third of our landscape. Conservation groups can support the 30/30 movement as a minimum starting point, looking ahead to E.O. Wilson's Half Earth vision as the long term goal.

Achieving 30/30 will not be easy. It faces a hostile gauntlet of the usual bad actors: entrenched bureaucrats, myopic and corrupt elected officials plus the industry lobbies that work to thwart most conservation initiatives. Not to mention the rapidly expanding army of mechanized recreationists, including mountain bike organizations. Yet the history of conservation proves that commitment and determination can overcome enormous political obstacles. Today's global ecological crisis demands that we dramatically increase land and water protections. This includes pushing for maximum protected acreage for wilderness quality lands and other areas that remain relatively natural and wild.

Like cockroaches, humans can adapt to and even thrive in nearly every artificial environment imaginable. Like Mumbai, for example. Or Houston. Or the expansive monocultural wastelands of Kansas. But is cockroach habitat and vast impoverished human-scapes the world that we wish to pass on? The least we can do for future generations of both human and non-human life is to approach wildland conservation as though the survival of life as we know it on Earth depends upon it-which in fact, it does. Enacting a strong 30/30 plan would be a great start.

*Howie Wolke is a long-time wilderness proponent. He has been a board member for Wilderness Watch on and off for over two decades, including two terms as President. He is a retired wilderness backpacking and canoeing guide/outfitter who now enjoys wilderness adventure without having to be responsible for others. He and his wife, Marilyn Olsen, and their dog Rio live in the foothills of the Gallatin Range, just north of Yellowstone National Park in southern Montana.

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Thirty by Thirty and Half Earth: Promises and Pitfalls | Wolke | Indigenous Policy Journal

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Thirty by Thirty and Half Earth: Promises and Pitfalls

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Biodiversity: Importance in Life Science Education

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Biodiversity: Importance in Life Science Education

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I found this article to be an intriguing extension of Module 13's discussion on biodiversity. It takes into consideration the opinions and works of naturalists throughout history, from Charles Darwin to E.O. Wilson. By tying in some quotes from these important figures, Cohen makes a case for the importance of biodiversity as a centerpiece for education in the life sciences. Emphasis is placed on the rapidly declining species of flora and fauna, as well as biology's ability to captivate the interest of students in the field. In the words of E.O. Wilson:

"We need more courses about different types of organisms — courses in ornithology or invertebrate zoology, or entomology. That’s the way to get students hooked...” (Tyson 2019)

Since biodiversity is a relatively new concept being taught in conservation curriculum, imploring inspiration from figures like Wilson will go great lengths to improve the quality of education provided on the topic.

Citation: Cohen, J. I. (2021, August 23). The pursuit of meaning: Placing biodiversity and biography at the center of biology - joel I. cohen, 2021. SAGE Journals. Retrieved November 17, 2021, from https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/00220574211026890?casa_token=Uhs-rj5wTaIAAAAA%3AOuhSBawsIC4Mtoh9lBhMPNmRw8eyEZqWMIkFJ65AG-FC2IA3FMwDqTV_OaZmr-ppI9DiAMXJwzKG_Q.

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Naturalists enrich our scientific understanding of biodiversity. However, just as countries have fallen behind on commitments to provide biodiversity conservation funding, so has the focus of life science stayed arm's length. The purpose of this article is to consider why biodiversity should be the center of life sciences education and how biographies of Charles Darwin and the incorporation of female scientists allow important findings, paintings, and journaling as part of standard teachings. The addition of female naturalists will provide role models for diverse, underrepresented student populations. This article suggests that biodiversity and biography become central to hteaching life sciences while supplemented by other practices. Such reallocations provide students an opportunity to learn not only what these scientists discovered but how these individuals "developed" into scientists.

References

CBD Secretariat . (2020). Global biodiversity outlook. https://www.cbd.int/gbo5
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Cohen, J. I. (2016). Exploring the nature of science through courage and purpose: A case study of Charles Darwin's way of knowing. SpringerPlus, 5, 1532. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/308028635
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Cohen, J. I., Altman, S. (2021). An historical analysis of United States experiences using stamp-based revenues for wildlife conservation and habitat protection. Discover Sustainability, 2, 24.
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Corradini, E. (2020). Eva Mameli Calvino. Rete dei Musei Universitari Italiani. http://www.retemuseiuniversitari.unimore.it/site/en/home/stories/eva-mameli-calvino.html
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Kruse, J. W., Borzo, S. (2010, December). People Behind the Science: Using historical science stories to teach about scientists and how science works. Science and Children, 51-55.
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Tollefson, J. (2019). One million species face extinction: Landmark United Nations report finds that human activities threaten ecosystems around the world. Nature, 569, 171.
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Wilson, E. O., Peter, F. M. (Eds.). (1988). Biodiversity-Papers from the national forum on biodiversity. The National Academies Press.
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The Pursuit of Meaning: Placing Biodiversity and Biography at the Center of Biology - Joel I. Cohen, 2021

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Naturalists enrich our scientific understanding of biodiversity. However, just as countries have fallen behind on commitments to provide biodiversity conservation funding, so has the focus of life science stayed arm's length.

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In this final module, I was reminded of the art produced from environmental tragedies such as The Dust Bowl. When initially learning about this facet of art history, I was intrigued and inspired to learn more about the works produced in these hard times. The creativity that shines through in these works amazes me, now that I know the horrific nature of living in The Dust Bowl. It makes me wonder if art would have become an escape for some people, to briefly forget about the situation they're in. I enjoyed this article because it talks about some of the artistic details of The Dust Bowl, such as photographers being conscripted to document the landscapes. Though the event can be viewed as a result of selfish actions, the art focuses on the aftermath felt by everyone which allows viewers to step into what it was like back then for a brief moment.

Citation: October 30, 2012 · by russelltetherfineart · in U. · 5 C., & Tags: american history, art. (2012, December 19). Art from the Dust Bowl. Russell Tether Fine Arts Associates, LLC. Retrieved December 1, 2021, from https://russelltetherfineart.wordpress.com/2012/10/30/art-from-the-dust-bowl/.

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I chose to include this journal in my timeline because it goes into some of the thoughts I had after watching Carl Sagan's video about "The Pale Blue Dot". His video had me thinking about how small we are as a planet compared to the rest of the universe. It made me wonder about the chance of there being life on other planets, since space is far too vast for us to be the only sentient beings out there. I like that this journal takes a realistic look at this, since it can feel a bit ridiculous to ponder life on other planets at times. The journal discusses how color signatures can correspond to different water and vegetative characteristics on a planet that indicate the ability to sustain life.

Citation: Suto, Y. (n.d.). How to search for possible bio-signatures on ... - springer. SpringerLink. Retrieved December 2, 2021, from https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007%2F978-981-13-3639-3_29.

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Yasushi Suto

Abstract

The Earth viewed from outside the Solar System would be identified merely like a pale blue dot, as coined by Carl Sagan. In order to detect possible signatures of the presence of life on a second Earth among several terrestrial planets discovered in a habitable zone, one has to develop and establish a methodology to characterize the planet as something beyond a mere pale blue dot. We pay particular attention to the periodic change of the color of the dot according to the rotation of the planet. Because of the large-scale inhomogeneous distribution of the planetary surface, the reflected light of the dot comprises different color components corresponding to land, ocean, ice, and cloud that cover the surface of the planet. If we decompose the color of the dot into several principle components, in turn, one can identify the presence of the different surface components. Furthermore, the vegetation on the Earth is known to share a remarkable reflection signature; the reflection becomes significantly enhanced at wavelengths longer than 760 nm, which is known as a red-edge of the vegetation. If one can identify the corresponding color signature in a pale blue dot, it can be used as a unique probe to test the presence of life. I will describe the feasibility of the methodology for future space missions and consider the direction toward astrobiology from an astrophysicist's point of view.

Keywords

Bio-signatures Pale blue dot Red-edge Copernican Principle

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References

1. Asimov I (1941) Nightfall in Astounding Science Fiction magazine

2. Briot D, Schneider J, Arnold L (2004) G.A. Tikhov, and the beginnings of astrobiology. In: Beaulieu J-P, Lecavelier des Etangs A, Terquem C (eds) Proceedings of "Extrasolar planets: Today and Tomorrow". ASP Conference Series 321. pp 219-220

3. Peacock JA (2013) Slipher, galaxies, and cosmological velocity fields, way. In: Way MJ, Hunter D (eds) Proceedings of "Origins of the Expanding Universe: 1912-1932", APS conference series 471. pp 3-23

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How to Search for Possible Bio-signatures on Earth-Like Planets: Beyond a Pale Blue Dot

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Yasushi Suto The Earth viewed from outside the Solar System would be identified merely like a pale blue dot, as coined by Carl Sagan. In order to detect possible signatures of the presence of life on a second Earth among several terrestrial planets discovered in a habitable zone, one has to develop and establish a methodology to characterize the planet as something beyond a mere pale blue dot.

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I found this article to be a good ending point to this Padlet project. It discusses the effect of intentional conservation education in middle school students, and how it plays out when they get to undergraduate age. The purpose of this study was to see the implications this education had on the students' understanding of environmental conservation, as well as how that plays out in their higher education. Reading this made me start to think about the lack of conservation education in the younger grade levels, and how beneficial it could be to introduce some of these topics in their science education. Having exposure to these topics at an early age could also potentially impact the amount of students interested in a career in the conservation field. There are many positive knock on effects that I see from this curriculum, from career interest to general care about the state of the environment.

Citation: Angelini, R., Ferreira, J. S., do Carmo Araújo, C. S., & Carvalho, A. R. (2011, July). Effect of outdoor and laboratorial environment science ... Retrieved December 2, 2021, from https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Juliana-Simiao-Ferreira/publication/274413526_Effect_of_Outdoor_and_Laboratorial_Environment_Science_Activities_on_Middle_School_Students_Understanding_on_Conservation/links/578cc35208ae7a588ef3cb42/Effect-of-Outdoor-and-Laboratorial-Environment-Science-Activities-on-Middle-School-Students-Understanding-on-Conservation.pdf.