Out of the woods, pt 3

This post is part three of a series. Click here for part one and part two.

So, I've looked at the climate science of forests and woodlands, and what part deforestation and bushfires have played and will play in climate change. In this post, I'll talk more about the climate politics of how we can get on the right track, the track into more woods.

What can we do to change our path?

Peter Camejo's classic speech from the Vietnam war era, Liberalism Ultraleftism or Mass Action, has been a guiding light for me ever since I came across it. So I'm going to group the current and historical campaigns to stop deforestation and protect our woodlands into those three broad categories - liberal, ultraleft, or mass action strategies.

Liberal strategies for stopping deforestation revolve around appealing to the good conscience of the ruling class of society. This can mean appealing to the government to pass better laws to protect the environment, activists chanelling their energy into petitions or utilising the existing laws; it can also mean appealing to the capitalists doing the deforesting directly.

An example of the latter is the current Wilderness Society asking you to sign mass letters to the CEOs of major companies, demanding that they make policies or statements to remove deforestation from their supply chain. The WWF's Global Forest & Trade Network is another example, creating a market for responsible forestry. These tools might sometimes work - I like to believe that most people have a good heart, after all - but in a capitalist society, where competition and the profit motive are hard wired into the system, any business who choses a more expensive means of production on moral grounds risks being undercut by those who aren't so ethical.

The former kind of campaign includes the Nature Conservation Council's campaign to declare a moratorium on logging in public forests. Again, petitioning the people in government in a capitalist society, who almost always see their job as upholding the dominant class interests in society, is only going to lead to slow, incremental change unless they think the issue is going to win or lose them an election - and that is largely determined by a news media world growing ever more determined to uphold the class interests of those in power themselves.

The best a liberal campaign asking the government for action can deliver is Victoria's ban on old growth logging in 90,000 hectares of the state; the plan has a sunset clause for existing logging activities until 2030, and green groups have concerns that the new zoning might reclassify areas currently considered "old growth". It's identifying the path we need to go down, but leaving the real kilometres of it to a future government, when it has the power to take that path today.

Protesters at the Franklin River, 1982

Then, there are ultraleftist strategies. They reject liberal ideas about appealing to the good will of the ruling class, and don't want to work within the boundaries of the democratic system. But they still don't see an alternative to the power of the ruling class or the government; instead, they involve generally small numbers of people in militant tactics that "break the rules", hoping to convince the ruling class that the cost of doing business in this way is too high. These tactics always appeal to those looking inward, within a small radicalised community, and trying to find some shortcut to change.

The most succesful example of this kind of strategy is Miranda Gibson's tree-sit to protect Tasmania's forests. She climbed up a tree in an area scheduled for logging in December 2011, putting her body in the way of the saws to demand the Styx valley, home to the world's tallest hardwood trees, be added to Tasmania's World Heritage Area. After over a year of her sit, with international attention on the cause, the Federal government announced an extra 170,000 hectares of forest would be nominated for protection. Gibson still holds the record for the longest tree-sit in Australian history, at an astonishing 449 days.

As great a victory as this was for Australia's woodlands, these kinds of tactics alone cannot protect forests for good. Companies will gladly sit out individual actions, or even empowered communities. This is apparent in the bid by Tony Abbott's following government to have the forest delisted - thankfully, one which failed. But they will try again.

Gibson's campaign gained so much success because part of her strategy was also to share her story, via solar-powered computer, and win mass support for the campaign. And this brings us to the third strategy for change identified by Camejo: independent mass action.

Bushfire crisis protest in Sydney, January 2020

An independent mass action strategy aims to challenge the power of the ruling class - not by activists going through the democratic channels, or by making small militant actions, but by looking to the other great class power in society - that of the working classes. Its aim is to draw the great masses of society into struggle themselves, not struggle on their behalf. It aims to break the rules - not the laws that say we can't protest on private property, but the fundamental rules about who owns society.

The simplest understanding of an independent mass action strategy is that it aims to call mass street rallies. And this is an important tactic; for the environment movement, the most recent examples of mass rallies which cut through the white noise and brought masses into action in Australia are the #climatestrike and School Strike 4 Climate actions of late 2019. They were followed up by the bushfire emergency rallies demanding the government do more - to protect the people, and landscapes, vulnerable to climate change through better funding for emergency services and meaningful climate action. Those Australian and global mass actions, while unsustained, have led to a real shift in the conversation on climate change in this country.

However, independent mass actions don't only mean the one tactic of street rallies. They can use any particular form of activism that brings masses into action, with a goal of exercising their own power, rather than appealing to the ruling class.

Worker's struggle, in the form of strikes, is another key tactic in a mass action perspective. Today in Australia strikes are only allowed while negotiating a new agreement, but we have a proud history of worker's strikes for the environment in the form of green bans - the campaign by the Builders Labourers Federation (BLF) to protect parklands and historic sites within Sydney. In the initial fight to protect Kellys Bush Park, the workers threw down the gauntlet to developer AVJennins:

If you attempt to build on Kelly's Bush, even if there is the loss of one tree, this half-completed building will remain so forever, as a monument to Kelly's Bush.

Today is a sad day for that history; Jack Mundey, the leader of the NSW BLF through those struggles, has passed away at age 90. May he rest in power.

We have lost a champion for the planet and for working people. Jack Mundey, a comrade and a leader, who saved so much of our heritage with the Green Bans movement died last night. Rembering him and thinking of his family today. Thanks Jack. Thanks so very much.

— David Shoebridge (@ShoebridgeMLC) May 10, 2020

The green bans campaign was one of the most effective forms of independent mass action ever used in Australia. It utilised the independent power of the workers, uniting with environmental and anti-corporate activists, against the wishes of capital - tying up $3 billion (in 1974 AUD) of investment. This independent mass action had to be quashed, and so the federal leadership of the union intervened, standing down Mundey and ending the policy of green bans. Of course, it later turned out the federal leader of the BLF, Norm Gallagher, was taking bribes from the construction bosses, leading to the closure of the BLF and its replacement by the CFMEU.

The CFMEU is militant in action for wages, but it has inherited the anti-environmental perspective of the latter BLF. Taking down the "24 hour construction sites" and pro-fossil fuel bureacracy of the CFMEU is a key struggle for climate activists. A CFMEU green ban ban on cutting down old-growth forests would bring the industry to a meaningful halt, and stop devestating climate change. The CFMEU leadership might be deluded enough to think climate change isn't an issue that will impact blue-collar workers in Australia, or that they can't adopt a more radical stance - but the history of the BLF shows otherwise.

These campaign strategies or orientations are far from exclusive - and they can sometimes bleed over into each other, or be complimentary. Individual tactics can fit into any of the three perspectives. Mass rallies can make liberal demands, direction action tactics can compliment legal or mass campaigns. Miranda Gibson's tree-sit did exactly this. And Tasmania's best-known fight to protect the environment, the fight to stop the Franklin Dam, utilised all kinds of tactics - including a write-in campaign on the 1981 state referendum that won an astonishing 45% of the vote.

So, what should you do right now?

I encourage everyone to get involved in all of the above kinds of campaigns to protect our forests as much as they feel is right. From my point of view, though, both the severity of the climate crisis and the centrality of capitalism in the crisis, mean we must take a mass action approach to climate activism.

Out of the woods, pt 2

This post follows on from Out of the woods, pt 1.

The Australian bushfires fires of last summer feel like a lifetime ago now. I was lucky enough to live in a region that wasn't directly affected, although we were bordered by both the Currowan and Green Wattle Creek fires which devestated villages I know well. Relatives further down the coast lost their homes and were trapped for days. And all of us on the east coast spent months under more or less of a smoke haze, some days so strong it was hard to breathe. Residents of Canberra, a natural bowl, had the worst of it, but even in Sydney, the Opera House became invisible from across the harbour. For myself, I knew it was a bad day when I woke up and couldn't see Mount Keira three kilometres away. The anxiety was constant, and the relief of the drought-breaking rain in February was immeasurable.

What did the fire season mean for climate change? In the simplest terms - 830 million tonnes of carbon dioxide emitted. There are only five nations who emitted as much carbon as the fires into the atmosphere last year: China, the US, India, Russia and Japan. By far, they burnt the largest ever amount of temperate forests in Australia's historical record.

But the actual impact is a little more... well, hazy.

A word on the misdirections toward arson and backburning before I get into the science. NewsCorpse columnist Andrew Bolt was one of the many conservative commentators who tried to undermine the shift in consciousness that occured during the fires by blaming either deliberate arson or green tape preventing hazard reduction burning. They have been rebutted elsewhere in depth, so I won't spend this post explaining why they are wrong; however, for anyone who is interested in deliberately-lit fires, I recommend Chloe Hooper's book, the Arsonist, which details exactly what happened in one such case.

However, reading the technical update by the Department of Industry, Science, Energy and Resources (hardly a bastion of the culture wars) put Bolt's claims that the fires weren't the "largest" we've ever experienced to bed. The above graph, taken from that update, shows the devestation of temperate forests in Australia; savanna fires may cover far more area, but they represent far less destruction of endangered species, loss of habitat and biodiversity - and release of carbon emissions.

But what does the technical update have to say about the hundreds of millions of tonnes of carbon released into the atmosphere by the fires? In essence, that they don't count - at least not for our National Greenhouse Accounts or reporting to the IPCC. Most of the time, bushfires don't actually kill off trees in temperate Australian forests, only burn the bark, leaves and understory shrubs. As such, new growth will draw almost all the carbon released back out of the atmosphere within 10-15 years.

Is that really the case? Thankfully, we have had months of sustained rains in most of the coastal areas. They may have fallen down the page amidst the pandemic, but images of forests sprouting green new growth after the fire have done the rounds on Australian social media. The initial signs are good. However, it is only some kinds of trees which can regrow under such conditions. The fires burnt in rainforest areas previously thought safe, and may have wiped out many species.

It will take the forests a long time to draw down that much carbon, and in the short term, we are seeing a huge spike. During the fires, the British Met Office estimated we would hit a peak of 417 parts per million (PPM) of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere this year thanks to the fires. We have actually hit a recorded high of 418 on May 3rd. 450 PPM is almost certainly going to tip us over the line to a dangerous 2c of warming and runaway climate change, which I wrote a little about in this post.

The spike will only go back down if the forests that burned are able to regrow for 10-15 years, without drought or future fires. This is almost guaranteed not to happen if we don't immediately address climate change, as this graph from the technical update hints. The negative green bars are showing the amount of carbon being drawn down by regrowth after fire, the orange the amount released. The more frequently severe bushfires occur, the less "carbon neutral" they become.

We must fight to protect forests in the wake of the fires. I will talk about the climate politics around forests in the final post of this series, but the most important thing to remark on here is to massively expand our bushfire fighting capacity. The priorities in Australia's bushfire fighting efforts were to protect lives first, property second, and forests third. We need to incorporate the urgent need to protect regrowing temperate forests from bushfires to maintain their status as carbon sinks, and intervene early.

That means more permanent volunteer payment provisions, and expanding equipment available to put fires out before they become too big to fight. In the fire season, aircraft and specialists had to be called in from overseas, and the state and federal governments all passed the buck on footing the bill. To buy C-130 waterbombers outright costs in the tens of millions of Australian dollars.

Celeste Barber's $51 million dollar Facebook fundraiser for the fires is a great step in the right direction, as the NSW Rural Fire Service must put the money towards equipment to expanding the Service's capacity to fight fires. It recieved over $100 million in donations throughout the crisis. Unfortunately, although Barber's fundraiser was clearly dedicated to the RFS trust, it's not exactly what people had in mind, as the description suggested it would help rebuild devestated communities - the RFS is currently exploring ways it can do both.

As runaway climate change becomes more and more inevitable, climate activists shouldn't only be fighting to "stop" climate change, but to fight for the greenhouse polluters to pay for the cost of defending communities from fires, drought and floods, and demand that they foot the bill when communities are destroyed. This call gained some traction during the bushfire crisis, but not enough. As with major devestating events in the past two decades, the job of rebuilding has largely been left to insurance companies, whose goal is to profit from the situation - by jacking up insurance premiums on the people most affected.

Which of these two responses plays out - the cost being placed on those responsible or those affected - will depend on the climate movement, and our ability to take up arguments around climate justice and bushfire justice. I will expand on that more in the last post in this series.

Out of the woods, pt 1

I have been getting into the woods a lot lately. Last year I started including trail running as part of my habit, and tackled my first big trail race, the 30km Coastal Classic, in September. It's an event that runs through the second oldest National Park in the world, the Royal National Park, although the beautiful old single track is being built out in most sections by fibreglass decking.

This isn't a completely new thing for me; I used to train for school cross country races by running around the farm paddocks and residual bushland of Jamberoo valley. I've even been running along the Mt Keira ring track, which we hiked around on Scout camps back in the nineties!

There's something about getting out into the woodlands and bush that makes trail running a different kind of experience. The natural world doesn't grow in the straight lines and even surfaces of our built environments; you must focus on each step, be aware of each tree and root and rock as you come across them. And the air just seems cleaner. Even during our summer of bushfire catastrophe, when the whole east coast of Australia was suffocating under smoke, getting out into the bush ringing the Illawarra provided some relief from the sense of doom. Every morning I woke up and surveyed the forested escarpment with trepidation, looking for a smoke plume that meant fire in our area, but I still felt like I could breathe easiest out amongst the peaceful gums.

That last part is why forests are a huge part of climate change - the ways plants breathe, drawing in carbon dioxide and releasing oxygen, is one of the key components of the carbon emissions equation. As it says in Drawdown: The Most Comprehensive Plan Ever Proposed To Reverse Global Warming, "no other mechanism known to humankind is as effective in addressing global warming as capturing carbon dioxide from the air through photosynthesis."

Increased carbon dioxide in the atmosphere has actually allowed plant productivity to increase, and the amount of carbon being drawn down by plants each year has gone up since 1960. As plants grow, they store carbon in their wood, and it is only released back into the atmosphere when it burns or rots:

Australian forests and wood products store or sequester approximately 57 million tonnes of carbon dioxide which offsets around 10% of the total greenhouse gases emitted in Australia. This takes into consideration a loss of carbon from forests each year of approximately 4.4 million tonnes due to prescribed burning, wildfires and wood harvested for energy. Carbon constitutes approximately 50% the dry mass of trees and when wood from these trees is used to produce wood products the carbon is stored for life in that product. For framing in our homes this carbon storage is life is around 100 years, around 30 years in furniture, 30 years in railroad ties and around 6 years in pallets and paper. Carbon stored in wood is only released back to the atmosphere when the wood product is burnt or decays.

At present, forests in Australia offset around 10% of our annual emissions (although keep in mind, carbon dioxide isn't the only greenhouse gas contributing to climate change).

Afforestation - the planting of trees in areas which have been treeless for at least fifty years - could soak up a lot of the excess carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. A study published in Science journal last year identified that "there is room for an extra 0.9 billion hectares of canopy cover, which could store 205 gigatonnes of carbon in areas that would naturally support woodlands and forests. This highlights global tree restoration as one of the most effective carbon drawdown solutions to date." It can be done cheaply, simply and within the timeframes that are projected to keep warming below 1.5c.

Good news about climate change - reforestation and afforestation can draw down a good chunk of all of humanity's historic greenhouse gas emissions and help undo the damage of anthropogenic climate change.

However, as the study identifies, that is not the trajectory we are on. We aren't getting into the woods: we are running out of them.

 

The World Wildlife Fund has identified the eastern coast of Australia as a global deforestation front - the only one in the developed world. The biggest part of the front has been in Queensland, where farmers have been given a free rein to clear land over the last decade. The amount of woodland Queensland cleared in 2015-16 alone was 395,000 hectares. The graphic comparison in this Guardian article, when centred on Mt Keira, stretches all the way from the start of the Royal National Park in the north, out to the bushfire-ravaged suburbs of Bargo and Yanderra, and south past Saddleback Mountain. Queensland's annual deforestation of native vegetation is an area bigger than the entire Illawarra region.

The world isn't afforesting or reforesting - it's deforesting. There is some dispute over how fast it is happening, and how much land that humans clear regenerates, but across the world, forests are disappearing. The Amazon, also the scene of a wildfire crisis in 2019, is being deforested at an accelerating rate.

Once again, there are market-based solutions in place to address the issue. Carbon credit schemes protect forests in the developing world by paying for trees not to be cut down and carbon to be stored, but, as with all market-based solutions, they simply pass the parcel on to another landowner or industry, offsetting the dirty work of pollution or deforestation that they do, rather than stopping it happening at all. And a carbon credit cannot prevent bushfires destroying the trees and releasing the carbon contained within them anyway. 

We are still going the wrong way.

We are running out of the woods. 

In part two, I go into what last summer's bushfires mean for carbon emissions, deforestation and climate change calculations.