In this delightful work, out on March 31, Harvard Professor Andrew H. Knoll takes on nothing less than the history of our planet and everything on it.

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Designed for the intelligent, inquisitive general reader (even the bibliography includes helpful asterisks that designate “particularly accessible works”), Earth and Life is fundamentally a popular science book. But it is rigorous in its descriptions of the eons-long back-and-forth between the geology of our planet and the living things that have inhabited it for at least the past three and a half billion years. While it could be seen as a survey course in the field, its core message is that life impacts the Earth as much as the Earth impacts life.

The first several chapters of the book focus on the chemistry of Earth and life. They are structured around the essential elements that make up the crust and mantle of our planet, as well as its living organisms. Beginning with a section on carbon, they cycle through nitrogen, phosphorus, sulfur, and trace elements. The next several chapters explore the origins of life on the planet, and are followed by three chapters that dwell on the fundamental role of oxygen – “The Story of O”, in Knoll’s whimsical designation – and the Great Oxygenation Event, or GOE. 

The GOE, which profoundly changed the character of the planet and its atmosphere, is the biggest event on Earth that most people have never heard of. Before cyanobacteria began to produce O2 in such enormous quantities, about 2.4 billion years ago, the Earth was a very different place – with an atmosphere and ocean hostile to most modern creatures. Knoll goes into some detail exploring different hypotheses for its origin and processes, and showcasing the parallel development of the eukaryotic organisms that ultimately led to us. 

The oxygen chapters also create a transition from Knoll’s opening overview of Earth’s elements to a more chronological story of how life developed overall in “conversation” with the planet’s geological processes. He traces how plants, animals, and fungi arose, and how they impacted the atmosphere (and vice versa). There is relatively less detail about the most recent few million years of Earth’s history, but a short discursion on the nature and impact of predation is well worth the time. After offering a glimpse of plant and animal life on Earth, he does a deep dive into the multiple times cataclysms almost wiped them out.

Interestingly, the chapter that covers the various climactic phases the Earth has entered and left does not include anthropogenic, or human-caused, climate change – he leaves this for the end, along with a series of speculations about what might be possible for humans on other planets.

This is far from Knoll’s first work on the subject: he has already published multiple geobiology texts, both academic or specialist works as well as mass-market overviews such as the bestselling A Brief History of Earth. But as the newest, it includes a wide range of updates to the field that will surprise anyone who hasn’t paid much attention to biology since high school.

Indeed, Knoll’s long experience as a teacher – most recently, as the Fisher Professor of Natural History at Harvard University – is evident in every page of the book, both in his delight in the subject matter and his desire to share his joy with others. As well as being informative, it is also introspective, humorous, and at times personal. Earth and Life is well worth reading for anyone who wants to know how we got here – and what might come next.

Earth and Life: A Four Billion Year Conversation
Andrew H. Knoll
2026, Princeton University Press, 328pp

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Check out more Earth.Org book and film reviews here.

Last year, a municipality in Peru granted Amazon stingless bees legal rights, the first time in the world that insects have been recognized as legal subjects. Earth.Org spoke with biologists and lawyers to understand why these tiny pollinators matter so much, and what could change for these bees, both within their immediate surroundings and globally. 

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In October 2025, a municipality in Peru made legal history. The municipal government of Satipo granted Amazon stingless bees the status of subjects of legal rights – in other words, it recognized that the stingless bees, native to the Peruvian Amazon, now have the right to exist and flourish. The move, resulting from a collaborative effort between scientists, Indigenous communities, and environmental lawyers, marked the first time insects have received such recognition anywhere in the world.

The new municipal law, Ordinance No. 33, does not single out the protection of one species – in this case stingless bees. Instead, it recognizes their close-knit relationship with local Indigenous communities, particularly the Asháninka, as well as with the Amazon ecosystem as a whole. These legal recognitions reflect both the build-up and parallel processes behind these advocacy efforts and underscore the interconnectedness between stingless bees, Amazonian biodiversity, and the ancestral beekeeping practices and sustainable economic development of Indigenous communities.

Chemical biologist Rosa Vásquez Espinoza of Amazon Research Internacional (ARI), who is also a National Geographic Explorer and advocate for biodiversity research and conservation in the Amazon rainforest, was the leading player in this conservation battle, aided by legal experts from the Earth Law Center. Earth.Org spoke with them about their journey to ensure the protection of Amazon stingless bees, why Indigenous leadership became central to the project, and what impact their initiative is already having, both locally and globally.

The Bees and the People

Stingless bees, or meliponines, are a diverse species of bees, characterised by the lack of a functioning stinger. There are more than 600 different species of stingless bees living across tropical and subtropical regions worldwide, of which at least 175 have been found in the Amazon. Unlike their European cousins, the honey-making bee (Apis mellifera), which was brought to the Americas by settlers in the 1800s, stingless bees are native to the Americas and perform critical ecosystem services there. 

In these lush, remote parts of the Amazon rainforest in Peru, Indigenous communities like the Asháninka and Kukama-Kukamiria have lived alongside the Amazon stingless bees for millennia. For these communities, as well as many other Indigenous communities of the Amazon, stingless bees are not just part of their immediate surroundings. “They are part of our family and our ancestors,” said César Ramos, President of EcoAsháninka, an organization representing 25 Indigenous communities in Peru. 

Through ancestral knowledge passed down through generations, these communities have learned how to care for the bees and collect their honey, which is said to contain magical properties, earning them the nickname “angelitas” (English for “little angels”). Some learned how to locate wild hives in the rainforest – in itself a very intricate endeavor – while others carried tree trunks with the hives home, keeping them behind their houses, in a rustic beekeeping set-up. This close-knit relationship not only mutually aided them but also benefited the ecosystem as a whole, as these angelitas represent an absolutely vital link in the local habitat, pollinating more than 73% of cultivated and native edible plants in the Amazon.

As climate and environmental pressures continue to grow, wild stingless bees are, however, becoming increasingly difficult to find, even for the Asháninka. According to local Indigenous rangers of the Asháninka Communal Reserve, spotting a wild hive, which used to take up to 30 minutes, can now take hours – and it is not always a guarantee. Because meliponines are key indicators of ecosystem health, their gradual disappearance reflects the wider deforestation and drying of the Amazon.

First Steps

In 2020, Rosa Vásquez Espinoza was in the midst of her PhD research in chemical biology in the US when the Covid-19 pandemic hit. At the time, her colleagues in Peru informed her that Indigenous communities were using stingless bees’ honey to treat the virus’ symptoms. Together with her colleague Cesar Delgado, a Kukama-Kukamiria scientist from the Instituto de Investigaciones de la Amazonia Peruana (IIAP), they set out on an expedition to sample the bees’ honey. The results of their research were astounding, revealing the honey’s truly remarkable qualities, including antibacterial, antiseptic, and even anticarcinogenic properties.

However, the more they researched the stingless bees and their natural habitat, the more they realized it wasn’t just the honey that was special. During a visit to the Asháninka and Kukama-Kukamiria communities during their expeditions to collect honey, they grasped just how important these bees are to human health and to the cultural heritage of the Indigenous communities.

Espinoza, in particular, was intrigued by this cultural and social element. As a young Peruvian woman, she received a lot of attention from women and children in the communities they visited. “I think since I looked similar, myself being a young woman, they weren’t as intimidated by me,” she told Earth.Org. She was fascinated to discover how happy the women and children were when taking care of the bees, as well as the positive economic impact it had on their lives. When gender equality came into view, Espinoza realized her science project could have a huge socio-ecological impact.

‘The Bees Are Disappearing’

When their scientific work with the meliponines in Asháninka Communal Reserve began, one of the very first observations they gathered from community members was the fear that the bees would die out. “The bees are disappearing, they are almost gone. We cannot find them anymore,” Espinoza recalled an Asháninka member telling her. “You cannot replace the bees for them. They have a cultural and a human rights perspective, as this is also the main source of medicine for the community.” 

The main factors threatening the meliponines’ existence and diminishing their populations have been identified as changes in land use, particularly the conversion of natural habitats for livestock, mining, logging, and agriculture. Additional threats, including the use of chemical pesticides and competition with invasive European and African honey bees, are further driving the bees’ disappearance.

Considering the ecological, social, and economic roles of meliponines, their preservation in the Amazon is crucial to overall conservation efforts, said Espinoza. Supporting Indigenous beekeeping, she realized, would help protect declining bee populations, preserve ancestral traditions, and strengthen local Indigenous economies. In turn, this would help regenerate the Amazon itself, as stingless bees contribute to the health of the entire ecosystem, down to the soil. 

The decision was made in that instant. She established the Amazon Research Internacional – a science-backed organization that specializes in conservation through and by Indigenous leadership, marking the beginning of their work with the Amazon stingless bees in the Peruvian Amazon. The project they started and led together with Delgado shows that sustainable meliponine beekeeping is successfully reforesting the previously depleted Amazon jungle. 

Policy Prompted By Frustration

Starting out as a socio-ecological project, the policy aspect entered the story through sheer frustration, Espinoza recalled. When researching where to get the funding, and how to start national projects for stingless bee conservation, she stumbled across a shocking revelation: most authorities and individuals she spoke with had never even heard of the species. Only one national law in Peru mentioned bees, although not of Amazon stingless bees. 

Through conversations, Espinoza discovered that the original legislative committee that worked on and passed the law in 1993 was, at the time, only aware of the existence of their cousins, the European and African honey-makers. “There was also this undeniable productivity factor that connects the two species,” she said. Both were introduced into Peru by settlers and then took over the agricultural sector. Economically, the honey-making bees were more profitable and thus protected. “The lack of any mention, and thus protection, however, over time played a part in the decline of the native species.” 

The absence of a national policy basis for the protection of the meliponines tied the hands of the few eager to help, as there were no official grounds for funding or projects, let alone inclusion in national conservation programs. 

Environmental Lawyers Join the Mission

A team of environmental lawyers from the Earth Law Center (ELC), a US-based law firm specializing in avant-garde environmental and animal protection, joined Espinoza’s project to help guide the advocacy and policy aspects of the mission. Inspired by the global Rights of Nature movement, the law firm advises in creating “ecocentric” laws that protect the environment and animals due to their own intrinsic value, granting them their rights as legal subjects, rather than objects of human ownership and exploitation.

Their first order of business was to amend National Law No. 32235 to include the Amazon stingless bees. They achieved that goal in January 2025, when an amendment to the law was adopted by the Congress, designating the native species as a matter of national interest. Even though the nature of law is declaratory – and thus does not grant singless bees new rights but only recognizes their intrinsic rights – it can influence national plans of action that need to be implemented by the ministries, explained Constanza Prieto Figelist, Latin America Legal Director at the ELC. “Now the national plans need to promote Amazon stingless bees as well, allocate resources and stimulate scientific research.”

Invigorated by their first win, the team started to think bigger. “As the meliponines are disappearing due to a myriad of mostly anthropocentric threats, we wondered whether we could find a way to legally protect them and their national habitat,” said Espinoza. “If you want to research and study a certain species, you need to have that species alive in its natural habitat in the first place.” 

With the ELC having extensive expertise on the topic, they set the following objective: translating Indigenous knowledge and observations into legal rights for meliponines, and attaching sanctions to actions that breach those rights. The Asháninka were crucial during this phase, not only because they hold the most knowledge and first-hand observations of the bees and their changing habitat, but also because they stand on the frontlines of their protection and are therefore best positioned to monitor the law’s implementation.

Indigenous-Backed Action

To start collecting suggestions and observations, ELC lawyers Javier Ruiz and Bastian Nuñez held workshops with the Indigenous communities. “What factors have you observed harming stingless bees in the Asháninka Communal Reserve?” was one of the questions asked to a classroom full of interested participants. Slowly, hands began to rise: “Climate change!”, “Logging and land use!”. Participants would be asked to write their answers on the blackboard. This was repeated across different communities in the municipality of Satipo, gathering more than 200 participants, Ruiz explained.

The lawyers then took those answers and drafted a declaration – a non-binding legal document which summed up the issues and presented potential legal and practical solutions in a broader manner. The text was taken back to the communities, who were asked whether they agreed with it and whether it fairly represented their opinion, giving everyone a chance to voice their opinion. The document was well received, and with the declaration finalized, the ELC lawyers turned to the next obstacle: converting it into binding municipal law in Satipo, home of the Asháninka Communal Reserve.

To facilitate this, the ELC lawyers also worked to foster collaboration between Indigenous communities and the wider population of Satipo. “We fostered the idea of building an alliance between the Indigenous communities and the Satipo municipality, helping them work together, rather than framing the issue of stingless bees as a point of contention,” said Ruiz. This was going to be helpful not only with the passing of the law but also its implementation and enforcement.

Another Win for the Rights of Nature Movement

On October 21, 2025, the provincial municipality of Satipo, Peru, approved Ordinance No. 33, recognizing Amazon stingless bees as subjects of legal rights. The ordinance establishes that the Amazonian stingless bees hold intrinsic rights, such as the right to exist, to maintain healthy populations, to live in a healthy environment, to conserve and regenerate their habitat, and links their protection to the comprehensive conservation of the Amazon. The law further promotes interdisciplinary research, integrating scientific knowledge with Indigenous knowledge in the conservation of Amazonian stingless bees.

What began as a small project to collect and analyze stingless bee honey in 2020 ultimately led to an important and innovative precedent for the Rights of Nature movement five years later, sending ripples around the globe. 

But what exactly makes this law so innovative? Previously, animals, nature, or parts of nature were protected only if damage done to them caused detrimental effects to humans. Their protection, which therefore occurred as a side effect rather than the main prerogative, was solely due to the protection of human benefit and not because of an animal’s or nature’s intrinsic value. On the contrary, Ordinance No. 33 today protects the Amazon stingless bees as subjects of rights, and if a certain activity harms them, the damage is calculated based on the direct harm inflicted upon the meliponines.

In practical terms, the ordinance requires municipal decision-makers in Satipo to consider the bees’ rights when making any decision that could potentially harm them, either when deciding on permits or authorizations or when enforcing sanctions against those who violate their obligations under the ordinance. The municipal environmental controls and standards that now need to be applied are thus stricter and solely focus on the well-being of the stingless bees. 

Never before had any insect been granted such recognition and protection.

What Does the Future Hold?

Espinoza and ELC’s actions have since grown beyond their local constraints and gained nationwide attention. The ordinance inspired similar action across Peru. The municipality of Nauta adopted its own version in December 2025, while a global petition was launched to adopt the substance of Satipo’s Ordinance No. 33 at the national level. To date, the petition has garnered more than 390,000 signatures, and promises that, with enough signatures (500,000 was set as the goal), Indigenous allies will deliver the petition and its demands directly to Peru’s lawmakers. 

In the meantime, Delgado and Espinoza have continued in their mission to work with Indigenous communities to train those interested in stingless beekeeping. Their next step is to establish a fair-trade economic system that will benefit both communities and the ecosystems they help protect. This way, the relationship between stingless bees and their keepers has taken on a new meaning: a reminder that science, Indigenous knowledge, and law can work together to safeguard both nature and the people who live alongside it.

Featured image: Luis Garcia Solsol.

You might also like: Should Nature Have Rights? A Critical Analysis of Ecocentrism and the Future of Water Protection

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With the first 14 days of conflict in the Middle East unleashing emissions exceeding the annual footprint of Iceland, the race is on to understand the short- and long-term climate impact of this latest chapter in modern warfare.

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“World leaders do this, while I’m expected to save the planet by drinking from a soggy paper straw? Life’s not fair,” reads a meme accompanied by an image of explosions and warplanes, highlighting the disconnect between everyday conservationism and the profligacy of wartime emissions.

The meme has been shared widely across social media since the US and Israel attacked Iran on February 28. The conflict quickly spread across the Middle East as Iran attacked neighboring Gulf countries in retaliation, sending shockwaves across the globe.

The US has launched more than 8,000 combat flights since “Operation Epic Fury” – the coordinated US-Israeli attack on Iran from late February. Aircraft include Bombers and fighter jets, drones, reconnaissance aircraft, cargo planes and refueling tankers, as well as military helicopters. 

A Lockheed Martin F-35 Lightning II fighter jet, one of these, consumes approximately 5,600 to 6,500 liters of kerosene during a single combat sortie of one-and-a-half to two hours, according to Lennard de Klerk, head of the Initiative on Greenhouse Gas Accounting of War. This emits some 14-17 tons of carbon dioxide, around that of the entire lifetime of a conventional passenger car. Meanwhile, Lockheed Martin, a major weapons manufacturer, says its products emitted nearly 14 million tons of CO2 equivalents when in use in 2024.

Difficult to Calculate

An analysis by the Climate and Community Institute has found that the total greenhouse gas emissions from the first 14 days of assault is more than 5 million tonnes of carbon dioxide, which is higher than the total climate pollution of Iceland in 2024. But exact emissions are notoriously difficult to calculate. 

De Klerk’s team estimates that Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, now going into its fifth year, has already emitted 311 million tons of greenhouse gas equivalents, while the war in Gaza has emitted 32 tons over two years. “Now we’re talking about two weeks, it’s a couple of million tons of CO2 for this war. Just direct emissions from warfare,” he told Earth.Org. 

Along with the emissions from military vehicles and aircraft, immediate contributions to global warming can include emissions from fires and explosions. However, de Klerk said, “People tend to think that explosions of attacks on depots and oil refineries generate a lot of greenhouse gas emissions, but the biggest impact is the fuel consumption by both Israel and US military, the kerosene used by the fighter jets and the diesel used by the US navy. The emissions from fuel consumption are 20 to 30 times bigger than those from the destruction from the energy infrastructure.”

Forced changes to commercial aviation routes are also emerging as a major short-term impact of the Iran war, with half a million passengers per day traveling through Gulf hubs under pre-war conditions – many of which are now being re-routed to longer routes, consuming greater quantities of fuel and generating more emissions. Sometimes, flights are re-routed because of deliberate jamming of their Global Positioning Systems, while others avoid the area as a precaution against being mistaken for a military aircraft. 

Methane and black carbon are among the other air pollutants from conflict that may create climate impacts. “It’s not just CO2 from burning the oil, it’s the uncontrolled release of methane that concerns me,” Neta Crawford, author of The Pentagon, Climate Change, and War: Charting the Rise and Fall of U.S. Military Emissions, told Earth.Org. “It’s the same with the targeting of storage facilities in Iran – some are oil, and some are natural gas, which is not combusted but just put into the atmosphere.” 

A new source of operational emissions from warfare may come from the use of Artificial Intelligence (AI). The US Department of Defense has promised that “AI-enabled warfare and AI-enabled capability development will re-define the character of military affairs over the next decade.” Data centers already consumed about 1.5% of global electricity consumption in 2024, and AI use may cause this amount to double by 2030.

Long-Term Impacts

The full scale of climate damage will not be known until after the war. 

“In terms of climate impact, we need time to see the medium-term and long-term effects,” Grace Alexander, Researcher at the Conflict and Environment Observatory (CEOBS), told Earth.Org.

Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine has caused massive emissions from forest fires, while attacks on urban areas tend to generate greater carbon dioxide emissions in the long term, during the reconstruction period. “Given the length of the conflict in Ukraine, rebuilding is going to be an important source of greenhouse emissions. A lot of climate impacts are unclear because it depends on the length of the war,” said Alexander.

The “other” elephant in the room, according to de Klerk, is rearmament. “Already, because of Russia’s aggression, military spending is rising,” he said. “If insecurity goes up, then many other countries around the world will ramp up spending and increase military emissions.”

Crawford pointed out that emissions from everyday operations of bases and installations, including training, food, cooling, and transportation are enormous even before a conflict begins. Scope 1 and 2 emissions from the US military’s standard operations in 2024, prior to the current war, reached almost 32 tons of CO2 equivalent. 

While the overall figures for everyday operations fluctuate, for example because of the increased use of outside contractors whose emissions are not included in the calculations, greater military spending is generally expected to increase emissions. US President Donald Trump recently called for a military budget of $1.5 trillion for 2027, significantly higher than the $901 billion approved for 2026.

At a structural level, wars can also impact the way a country’s infrastructure develops. “When the military creates demand and a new system, that changes the economy,” said Crawford. “For example, when the military turned its TNT factories to the production of nitrates for soil for fertilizer [following the second world war], that changed the pattern of fertilizing fields. And we know nitrous oxide is a potent greenhouse gas.” Likewise, the US established its highway system following the first world war to transport equipment between industrial states on the coast to places where steel was made, resulting in an explosion of sub-urbanization that increased emissions. 

Will War Polarize the Energy Transition?

The new war’s most lasting impact may come in its long-term effect on the energy transition, particularly driven by increased natural gas prices. “We’re looking at countries from the affected region that are reliant on LNG. This may mean a switch to other fossil fuels, even coal in some countries – and a switch comes with an investment cost, which means that countries will be locked into a fossil fuel source,” explained Alexander. According to a new analysis released by CEOBS, Pakistan and Bangladesh are particularly vulnerable to transit flow disruptions, with two thirds of their LNG supply shipped through the Strait of Hormuz in 2025. 

Iran has effectively blocked traffic in the Strait of Hormuz, one of the world’s busiest oil shipping channels, following the February 28 attacks by the US and Israel. Some 20-25% of global oil supply typically passes through it, making it a critical global energy chokepoint.

“On the other hand, with this insecurity of fossil fuel supply, other countries will be more motivated to go towards an energy transition [to renewables]. A crisis like this really highlights the insecurity around fossil fuel energy infrastructure,” she added.

The most likely impact, according to the experts, is that the Gulf will be widened between those countries that are already further along their energy transition. Countries with a strong renewable energy base will embrace the energy independence that it provides, while those more dependent on LNG will turn to other fossil fuel replacements.

“The broader point is simple: the further a country advances its energy transition, the more resilient – and the more sovereign – it becomes. This war makes that equation impossible to ignore,” Sebastian Kind told Earth.Org in an email. As Argentina’s former Undersecretary of Renewable Energy, Kind led the country’s energy transition in the late 2010s. 

For him, fossil fuel dependency is not just a climate risk but also “an economic burden and a national security vulnerability,” and only those countries that have already scaled up domestic renewable energy will be immune to geopolitical disruption. “The lesson is not new, but the urgency is. Every government watching oil above $100 a barrel should be asking how quickly it can build the policy and financial architecture to unlock private investment in renewables. The technology is ready and cost-competitive. What has been missing is political will, and crises like this one should provide it,” Kind said.

Meanwhile, the perception that climate change may accelerate warfare can also create a negative spiral. “For years, people have been talking about climate change as a threat multiplier – climate refugees may destabilize local governments, or climate change leads to stress on the resources for daily life like food and water, or resources for the transition like lithium. But then that [idea] has been used to say that we need to do more military preparation,” said Crawford.

Ultimately, experts emphasize, the decision to go to war has consequences not only for the combatants but for the rest of the planet. “We’re overlooking the real, present and future consequences of militarization and war in favor of paying attention to possible, avoidable, speculative conflicts with powers that do not threaten the United States in particular, and which may never,” said Crawford.

Featured image: Wikimedia Commons.

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Water infrastructure is increasingly and deliberately targeted in modern warfare as a strategic tactic of the evolving warfighting strategies, as recent events in Iran have shown. 

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Water infrastructure has increasingly become a silent but critical dimension of modern conflict.

In arid regions, desalination plants are not merely industrial facilities; they are lifelines that sustain entire communities. Iran, like several countries in the Middle East, has invested in desalination infrastructure and the transfer of water from the Persian Gulf to water-poor areas in central Iran. Desalination facilities on Qeshm Island, the largest island in the Persian Gulf near the Strait of Hormuz – known for arid climate and water scarcity – are crucial for providing the surrounding rural settlements with reliable groundwater.

Earlier this month, Iranian officials accused the US of attacking the desalination infrastructure in the island, cutting water supply to 30 surrounding villages. 

Such attacks are not merely incidental damage during military operations. Rather, they reflect a growing pattern in modern warfare in which water infrastructure is deliberately targeted as a strategic tactic of the evolving warfighting strategies. Disrupting access to water in conflicts can severely compromise people’s livelihoods, while crippling agricultural economies and impacting food security. In fact, targeting water systems weaponizes one of the most fundamental human rights – the right to water – turning an essential resource for life into a tool of coercion and pressure against civilians in conflict contexts.

Historically, the vulnerability of desalination infrastructure has been recognized worldwide. During the Gulf War in 1991, Iraqi forces sabotaged much of Kuwait’s desalination plants, leaving millions without reliable water. More recently, Yemen’s Houthi groups launched drone and missile attacks on Saudi desalination facilities at Al-Shuqaiq in 2019 and 2022, demonstrating that water infrastructure continues to be a strategic target in regional conflicts. 

Globally, desalination plants in the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) region – a political and economic union of six Arab states bordering the Arabian Gulf – produce 40% of the world’s total desalinated water. This highlights how attacks on these facilities have far-reaching consequences beyond their immediate location. Understanding the targeting of water infrastructure, therefore, requires examining its humanitarian and legal dimensions, particularly in contexts where civilian populations are directly affected.

Dimension of Weaponizing Water in Conflicts

The deliberate targeting of water infrastructure reflects multiple overlapping motives and methods that extend far beyond immediate physical destruction. Research on the weaponization of water shows that water systems hold strategic, tactical, and psychological value, which often drives their targeting during conflict. 

Cutting off water supplies is motivated by tactical motives of military necessity, such as designating pumping stations or desalination plants as military objectives to impede the advance of adversaries, but also by broader strategic objectives, including weakening governance structures and coercing political concessions. In some cases, attacking water systems or cutting water supply serves as a means to force displacement, dominate civilians or collectively punish them. Even when water systems are not intentionally and directly attacked, they still collapse from the cumulative impact of urban warfare, deepening the humanitarian consequences for civilians.

Modes of Water Weaponization

Water is typically weaponized in two ways: through deprivation, by denying or contaminating access to water resources, and through inundation, by deliberately releasing stored water or manipulating water flows to generate flooding.

Recent reports of strikes on desalination facilities on Iran’s Qeshm Island illustrate how these dynamics intersect in practice. In water stressed-regions such as Iran, where water infrastructure is highly centralized and where resource scarcity exacerbates existing inequalities, targeting such facilities is not a mere military escalation but can amplify pressure on civilian populations, particularly marginalized groups.

In this sense, water – particularly in conflict settings – has become a mechanism of political and social control, highlighting how environmental resources are intertwined with  military strategies.

What Does International Humanitarian Law Say?

International humanitarian law recognizes the gravity of attacks on water systems.

The legal framework governing armed conflict, particularly the Geneva Conventions and their Additional Protocol I, explicitly prohibits attacks against objects indispensable to the survival of civilian populations. Article 54 of Additional Protocol I states that parties to a conflict must not destroy or render useless installations that provide drinking water to civilians, including desalination plants, reservoirs, and irrigation systems.

This legal principle is reinforced by customary international humanitarian law, as articulated by the International Committee of the Red Cross, which emphasizes the obligation to distinguish between military targets and civilian infrastructure. Deliberately disrupting desalination plants or otherwise depriving populations of water may constitute a violation of these legal norms and potentially undermine fundamental human rights, making such actions a potent and illegal form of coercion against civilian populations under the Rome Statute.

Water Weaponization in Practice

Historical precedents demonstrate the profound humanitarian and legal stakes of such attacks.

Syria’s Aleppo provides a stark example of water weaponization during the Syrian civil war. Both government forces and opposition groups repeatedly targeted water infrastructure, cutting supplies, destroying treatment systems, and deliberately contaminated drinking water in governorates including Deir ez-Zor, Raqqa, and Aleppo. The destruction and manipulation of water systems have not only supported battlefield strategies but also deepened the humanitarian crisis, with UN experts and human rights monitors highlighting these actions as potential violations of international humanitarian law.  

In Iraq, after capturing Mosul in 2014, ISIS strategically flooded surrounding areas by manipulating the Mosul dam, which hindered the Iraqi army’s advance and forced mass evacuations. By extending its control of other water infrastructure, such as the Falluja dam and water facilities in Baqubah, ISIS managed to flood government-held farmland near Baghdad and displace up to 40,000 inhabitants. Observers raised concerns that ISIS’s control of the Mosul Dam and other water infrastructure enabled the use of water as a tool of coercion, with significant humanitarian ramifications for civilians, including disrupted livelihoods, food insecurity and displacement.

In Sudan, according to the IHL in Focus Spot Report published by the Geneva Academy of International Humanitarian Law and Human Right, the deliberate targeting and seizure of water resources have worsened famine conditions and triggered mass displacement, underscoring clear violations of international humanitarian law.

These examples demonstrate that attacks on water infrastructure are rarely incidental. They constitute a potent form of coercion, carry long-term consequences for civilian populations, and trigger clear international legal responsibility for parties that fail to protect essential services.  

Ensuring the Protection of Water as a Human Right in Armed Conflict

Ultimately, protecting water resources and infrastructure is not only a legal obligation but also a moral imperative. In regions where climate change and population growth are intensifying water scarcity, these facilities represent the difference between stability and crisis. Ensuring that water infrastructure remains off-limits in armed conflict is therefore essential for safeguarding both human security and environmental sustainability. When water becomes a weapon, the effects reverberate far beyond the battlefield, undermining the resilience of communities and ecosystems for generations.

International organizations, including the United Nations and humanitarian agencies, have increasingly emphasized the protection of water infrastructure as part of broader efforts to safeguard civilian populations during armed conflict. Still, preventing such violations requires stronger international oversight and accountability mechanisms. One proposed approach involves designating critical water facilities – including desalination plants – as protected humanitarian infrastructure, similar to hospitals and schools. In addition, the establishment of demilitarized zones around key water systems could help reduce their exposure to hostilities, while ensuring that ceasefire and peace agreements explicitly include provisions safeguarding water infrastructure and enabling repair and maintenance. 

Greater protection should also extend to water utility personnel, who must be recognized as essential civilian actors whose work is indispensable for maintaining access to water. At the institutional level, improved international coordination is needed to develop early-warning and rapid response mechanisms, supported by satellite monitoring and independent verification, to detect threats and assess damage to water systems in real time. Finally, stronger accountability measures, including targeted sanctions and expanded investigative mechanisms, are necessary to deter deliberate attacks and ensure compliance with international humanitarian law. 

Featured image: Ninara/Flickr.

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At the frozen tip of South America, where the mountains of Tierra del Fuego meet the jagged currents of the Beagle Channel, a dedicated team of scientists and explorers is diving into one of the planet’s last truly intact marine refuges. While the rest of the world’s underwater forests vanish at an alarming rate, these resilient subantarctic kelp systems offer a rare blueprint for how we might still protect the life-sustaining pulse of our oceans.

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By Andi Cross

It was five in the morning, and the team was meeting for the first time on the dock in Ushuaia, Argentina. We barely knew each other, but months of planning had led us to this point. Everyone had taken a different path to arrive, but we shared a common goal: to explore one of the most intact and overlooked ecosystems left on the planet. This far south – what some call the “end of the world” – cold-water kelp forests are still surging with life. 

For those who know where Ushuaia is, it is usually considered a gateway to Antarctica. On one side, jagged mountains, glaciers, and dense forest. On the other, the Beagle Channel. The setting alone makes it feel like the edge of something – especially outside the summer tourism window, when the area quiets down and winter creeps in with its annual ferocity.

Tierra del Fuego, or “Land of Fire”, straddles Chile and Argentina and is home to the resort town of Ushuaia. The further east you go, the wilderness becomes more pure, untouched in ways most places no longer are. While many adventurers head to the peaks, we were headed below the surface to a world even fewer have charted, but one filled with life you can spot even from ashore. Endangered sei whales pass through the channel. Magellanic penguins skim the coastline. Kelp geese feed off thick patches of seaweed right at the town’s edge. Witnessing this on dry land made us realize that what we were about to witness out to sea would be of another world – something that would intensify as we escaped the confines of civilization.

Our team was scrappy, loading our gear onto the sturdy sailboat that would be home for the next eight days. The mission was to explore these remote kelp forests in partnership with Por El Mar, an Argentine non-profit working to protect 90% of the country’s kelp forests – most of which can be found in Patagonian regions. The non-profit’s conservation team has derived that 10% can be found in Chubut, 30% in Santa Cruz, and 60% in Tierra del Fuego. For the last three years, the team has been doing whatever it takes to keep these forests from being exploited, fighting for the kind of protections that are becoming rare globally.

While most vessels around us were headed toward Antarctica, we were eastbound toward Peninsula Mitre, the tip of the Tierra del Fuego archipelago. After two years of traveling the world in search of intact kelp systems, we kept arriving at the same recommendation. From our advisors at the US Marine Conservation Institute to kelp researchers across the Pacific Northwest and even as far as Tasmania, all signs pointed here. If we wanted to see giant kelp (Macrocystis pyrifera) forests that were still thriving, this was the place.

Carolina Pantano, Science & Conservation Manager at Por El Mar, explained that giant kelp forests cover 28% of the world’s marine coastlines, but they are declining faster than tropical rainforests and coral reefs. Rising ocean temperatures are one of the main reasons. But Patagonia’s subantarctic waters are different. Here, temperatures have remained relatively stable, creating one of the last remaining global refuges for these underwater forests. As we prepared to set sail, Carolina told us that what we would see in these waters would be unlike anything we had seen before. We came to learn very quickly that she was right.

Life on the sailboat was focused and repetitive in the best possible way. We lived alongside a team of scientists, conservationists, policymakers, content creators, and writers, with all onboard sharing a love of diving. The routine was simple: sleep, eat, dive, talk about kelp, repeat. As we made our way through the Beagle Channel, hugging the Chilean and Argentine border, the world as we knew it fell behind us. Civilization faded from our line of sight, and hours passed without a single boat in our near vicinity. No lights, no noise – just sea, sky and dense, remote land. The sun stretched long into the evenings, giving us time to take this wild corner of Patagonia all in. This untouched and undisturbed wonderland.

Cristian Lagger, Por El Mar’s Science & Conservation Director and a National Geographic Explorer, led our dive operations alongside Carolina. As the team suited up, layer by layer into drysuits and cold-water scuba gear, sea lions popped up at the surface, eyeing us newcomers. Peale’s dolphins tracked the boat, leaping in and out of the wake with effortless motion. We were all bracing for the shock of 8C water, which we knew would be sharp, biting, and immediate. But it was the pull of the strong ocean surge that proved to be much more daunting.

Even from the deck, it was obvious we had found what we came for. Giant kelp stretched in every direction, with southern bull kelp (Durvillaea antarctica) hugging the coastlines, proving to be exceptionally thick and towering. In some places, the visibility was so clear you could see all the way to the seafloor, 30 meters down. At times, diving almost seemed unnecessary. The scale and health of the forest was visible from the surface. Nonetheless, we dropped in, ready to be fully immersed. This was one of the last intact underwater forests on Earth, giving us a chance to witness what a healthy kelp ecosystem is supposed to look like. A rarity in today’s modern world. 

Edges of the world like these deliver their fair share of “unforgettables”, as we like to call them. The constant clicks and clacks of tiny marine life going about their work. Octopi flashing from orange to yellow as they vanished into the kelp. Bright sea sponges standing out ostentatiously on every dive. And the curious and unbothered sea lions circling us while our hands froze to our cameras, too mesmerized to pull away.

But the most unforgettable thing while down at depth was the kelp itself. Twice a day, we dropped into these forests and let our bodies move with theirs. Massive strands surged with the tide, pulling and releasing in a rhythm we wouldn’t dare fight. Often we’d lock eyes with our dive buddies, clearly all thinking the same thing: we were inside something ancient, something essential.

Kelp forests sustain life on a global scale. They draw down carbon more efficiently than most land-based plants, buffer coastlines from storm surge and erosion, regulate oxygen levels, and provide essential habitat for thousands of marine species – from fish nurseries to feeding grounds for top predators. This makes them one of the planet’s most powerful natural climate tools. 

Unlike high-tech solutions still in development, kelp is already doing its share. But as we dropped into these dense, vibrant forests, the signs of risk were impossible to ignore. 

Patagonia, on both the Chilean and Argentine sides, has long been a place of extraction. Its vast resources have drawn industries ranging from agriculture to fisheries to oil and gas. Now, as those sectors shift, wild algae harvesting is emerging as the next frontier. With no regulation at the provincial or national level, kelp forests are left exposed. Layer in coastal pollution and mismanagement, as well as a warming world, and the pressure on these ecosystems is only growing.

That’s why Por El Mar has made kelp its focus. Their work – exploration, protection, and if needed, rewilding – is all aimed at creating a science-based marine protected corridor along the coasts of Tierra del Fuego and its provincial neighbor, Santa Cruz. It is an ambitious effort, but one that is already showing results.

In just three years, this small but determined team of 36 has made major strides. They have been leading scientific expeditions along Patagonia’s southern coastline, working with partners like Más Kelp and Kelpwatch to produce the first comprehensive maps of Argentina’s kelp ecosystems and the species they support. Carolina and Cristian were at the core of that effort, helping confirm what we were told before our first dive: these forests are still holding the line despite rising pressures from development, invasive species like Undaria pinnatifida, and a rapidly warming planet.

To confront these threats head-on, Por El Mar is developing science-based management plans and expanding conservation strategies, always in close collaboration with local communities. In December 2022, years of advocacy, research, and grassroots organizing culminated in a major milestone: the creation of Península Mitre Provincial Park, now the largest provincial park in Argentina.

This remote region, originally home to the nomadic Haush people, holds one of the planet’s last great peatland reserves. Often overlooked, these wetlands are now recognized as Argentina’s most important carbon sink. Península Mitre alone stores approximately 84% of the country’s peatlands, sequestering an estimated 315 million metric tons of carbon, according to the UN Environment Programme. This landmark move by the Tierra del Fuego government now protects over one million hectares of land and sea, including the province’s most pristine and dense kelp forests. Those very forests we were diving through during our eight-day expedition.

And the momentum has not slowed. In December 2024, the Tierra del Fuego legislature unanimously passed a law protecting all kelp forests in the province – whether inside marine protected areas or not. The law backs science-based management, promotes regenerative ocean farming as a sustainable alternative, and explicitly bans destructive practices like wild kelp extraction and underwater deforestation.

This is a local solution with global relevance – a practical model for how other regions might safeguard their own marine ecosystems. And this is proof that community-led action, grounded in science, can shift the future of a threatened ecosystem. They show what happens when people take ownership of the resources that sustain them, and make the choice to protect them in return.

Places like Península Mitre, and teams like Por El Mar, push back against the narrative of despair often portrayed when it comes to climate change. They offer something rare: a working blueprint. Certifiable proof that protecting what is still intact is not only possible, but already happening.

Ángeles De La Peña, a Tierra del Fuego local and one of the legal and strategic forces behind Por El Mar, knows what it takes. She played a key role in the creation of the park, and was also behind the successful push to ban open net salmon farming in the region in 2021, a full year before the park was established. Ángeles understands that building legal momentum in a place that still feels, to many, like the end of the world, is not something that happens overnight by any means. Before we set sail back to Ushuaia, she said something that stayed with us, and should stick with anyone working to protect what’s left: “You don’t need to look far to find what’s worth protecting. You just need to recognize the value of what’s already in front of you and then not back down when it comes to preserving it.”

This far off corner of the globe had more encounters and eye-openers than we could’ve hoped for. Those sea lions, sei whales, dolphins, penguins and of course, the ancient kelp forest itself, in all its wild splendor. But what left its indelible mark more so was the fighting spirit. A spirit present in every person we met along the coast – from divers and scientists to legal advocates and local organizers. 

It takes a particular kind of grit to live in a place this wild; to endure the harshness and isolation of this land and its surrounding waters and; to push for a better future where it’s needed most. But that unwavering strength comes from a deep understanding of just how special and critical this place truly is. As we stood shivering on deck, dive after dive, aboard that humble boat we were starting to relish calling home, we knew that the fight we witnessed here was one thing, above all else: unforgettable.

Featured image: Adam Moore.

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This story is part of an editorial collaboration between Earth.Org and Edges of Earth Expedition, a team dedicated to uncovering powerful stories from the frontlines of the climate crisis. Leading the charge is Andi Cross, an expeditionist, impact strategist, writer, and SSI divemaster who has spent over two years traveling the world, immersing herself in the realities of environmental change.

The heart-wrenching image of Punch, a rejected baby macaque clinging to a stuffed toy, has captured millions of hearts, but his sudden stardom exposes a troubling paradox in modern media. While viral stories can spark genuine compassion, they often inadvertently mask the systemic stresses of captivity and stoke a dangerous global demand for exotic pets.

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By Devan Showe

Stories about cute baby animals tend to perform well on social media. Often, all it takes is a handful of compelling photos and a simple narrative hook for a story to spread rapidly across platforms. 

At times, that virality can serve a positive purpose: it can raise awareness about animals in distress and potentially inspire advocacy or donor support for conservation efforts. Yet the same viral attention can also have unintended consequences. In many cases, highly shareable animal stories spark interest in the exotic pet trade or reinforce systems that keep wild animals in captivity.

One recent example is the story of Punch, a seven-month-old Japanese macaque born at the Ichikawa City Zoo in Japan. While Punch has become something of an internet celebrity, the attention surrounding his story illustrates how viral fame can produce mixed outcomes for animals.

The Life of Punch

Punch’s story begins with tragedy. Born in captivity, he was rejected almost immediately by his mother. In macaque social structures, maternal rejection can lead to broader social consequences, and Punch soon faced bullying and exclusion from other monkeys in his troop.

The precise reasons for this rejection are difficult to determine. Researchers at the zoo have suggested that Punch’s mother may have been affected by the circumstances of his birth, which reportedly involved a prolonged and difficult labor during a severe heatwave. Although such explanations remain partly speculative, zoologists note that stress during pregnancy and birth can disrupt maternal bonding in primates.

Concerned about Punch’s isolation and safety, zoo staff stepped in to hand-rear him.

For six months, keepers fed and cared for the infant macaque, raising him outside the troop while monitoring his health and development. Eventually, this January, the zoo attempted to reintroduce him to the enclosure.

The transition was not easy. Punch struggled to integrate with the other monkeys and instead showed strong attachment to the zookeepers who had raised him. He often stayed close to them rather than interacting with the troop, reinforcing the sense that he remained socially disconnected from his own species.

In an attempt to ease his loneliness, zookeepers introduced a stuffed orangutan toy for him. Punch quickly formed an attachment to the plush animal, carrying it around the enclosure and cuddling it in moments of stress. The image was striking: a small macaque clinging to a stuffed toy for comfort, much like the character Linus with his blanket in the classic comic strip Peanuts.

Photos and videos of Punch snuggling his stuffed companion soon began circulating online. Within days, the images spread widely across social media platforms and news outlets. For many viewers, Punch’s vulnerability and reliance on the toy symbolized both innocence and resilience, prompting an outpouring of sympathy from people around the world.

The Long Tail of Virality

While the public response to Punch’s story has largely been compassionate, viral attention can bring complications.

One immediate effect has been a surge in visitors to the Ichikawa City Zoo. Media reports indicate that attendance around the macaque enclosure has doubled since Punch became widely known online. The zoo has even issued public statements warning about capacity limitations as crowds gather to see the now-famous baby monkey.

On the surface, increased attendance may appear beneficial. However, higher visitor numbers can reinforce the economic incentives that sustain animal captivity. Revenue generated from increased traffic may ultimately support the continued breeding and display of animals in zoo environments.

For animals like Japanese macaques, these environments are often far removed from their natural habitats. Wild macaques live in complex social groups and inhabit forests with abundant natural features, including trees, streams and varied terrain. By contrast, zoo enclosures can be crowded and relatively barren, sometimes consisting largely of concrete structures with limited environmental enrichment.

Captivity can also influence social dynamics. While maternal abandonment does occur occasionally in the wild, it is significantly more common in captive populations. Stressors such as overcrowding, limited space and constant human presence can disrupt normal behavioral patterns among primates.

In this sense, Punch’s difficult beginning may be linked in part to the conditions of captivity itself. The same setting that contributed to his troubled start is now benefiting from the attention generated by his story, a dynamic that highlights the complicated relationship between viral storytelling and animal welfare.

There is also another concern associated with viral animal content: the exotic pet trade. When unusual animals gain popularity online, public interest in owning similar animals often increases. Even when viewers mean no harm, viral fame can unintentionally create demand for wild or exotic species as pets.

Punch’s story has already provided an example of this. The Tate brothers, British-American controversial manosphere influencers, reportedly offered $250,000 to take Punch from the zoo. Although the proposal was framed as an effort to “rescue” him, such offers can normalize the idea of privately owning exotic animals.

In reality, the private exotic pet trade is widely criticized by animal welfare organizations for its cruelty and exploitation. Primates raised outside natural social groups frequently suffer from stress and inadequate living conditions. Removing a macaque from a zoo to place them in private ownership would likely create additional welfare concerns rather than solve existing ones.

Given these realities, the most probable future for Punch is that he will remain at the zoo for the duration of his life. Japanese macaques can live up to 40 years in captivity, meaning Punch may spend decades in the same environment where his story began.

One Good Outcome: Awareness

Despite these challenges, Punch’s story could still produce a meaningful positive outcome: greater awareness of how viral animal content intersects with conservation and animal welfare.

Organizations such as Born Free USA operate primate sanctuaries designed to provide rescued animals with more natural living conditions. At the Born Free USA Primate Sanctuary in Texas, monkeys live in large, open-top habitats spanning several acres and filled with real trees, plants and natural structures. These environments allow rescued animals to socialize in ways that more closely resemble life in the wild.

Increased public interest in stories like Punch’s could translate into stronger support for such sanctuaries. Donations, advocacy and public education campaigns can help expand alternatives to traditional captivity and provide lifelong care for animals that cannot be returned to their natural habitats.

Ultimately, Punch’s viral fame illustrates both the power and the complexity of internet storytelling. Images of a lonely baby monkey clinging to a stuffed toy are undeniably moving, and the compassion they inspire is genuine. But the broader impact of that attention depends on how audiences choose to respond.

Photos of Punch by Daiei Onoguchi via Wikimedia Commons.

The regional fallout from last week’s joint US-Israeli strikes on Iran underscores how far the global energy transition still has to go: as long as strategic decisions are tied to fossil fuel supply chains, climate goals remain exposed to geopolitical instability.

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On February 28, the United States and Israel launched a coordinated military campaign against Iran, marking a dramatic escalation in Middle Eastern geopolitics with repercussions that extend far beyond the region. The military operation targeted hundreds of sites across Iranian territory, including military and nuclear facilities, and reportedly eliminated top Iranian leaders. Tehran immediately retaliated with missile strikes against Israeli and US military bases in neighboring Gulf states, underscoring the risk of a broader conflagration. 

While US officials publicly framed the operation as an effort to neutralize perceived nuclear threats and curb Iranian regional influence, underlying strategic imperatives tied to global energy markets and great-power competition cannot be ignored.

Iran’s Role in the Global Energy Market

Iran remains a significant hydrocarbon producer. Despite decades of sanctions that have restrained output, Iran holds some of the world’s largest deposits of proved oil and natural gas reserves, estimated at about 209 billion barrels at the end of 2024, representing roughly 12% of global reserves and 24% of those in the Middle East. In January, the country produced 3.4 million barrels of crude oil per day – about 3% of global oil supply. 

Much of Iran’s oil flows through the Strait of Hormuz, connecting the Persian Gulf to the Arabian Sea. This critical checkpoint carries 30% of global seaborne crude oil and gives Iran significant influence over global energy flows. In 2024, oil flow through the strait averaged 20 million barrels per day, resulting in nearly US$500 billion in annual energy trade. 

The immediate market reaction to the strikes was a sharp rise in crude oil prices, with benchmarks like Brent crude climbing to multi-month highs above $72 amid fears of disrupted supplies. Analysts and observers warn that geopolitical instability and further escalation could push oil prices above $100 per barrel. 

China’s Energy Stakes in Iran

A crucial but often overlooked dimension of the conflict is China’s deepening energy relationship with Iran. China has steadily become the dominant buyer of Iran’s crude oil, increasing its share from 25% in 2017 to nearly 90% in 2023. Much of this oil is purchased by Chinese independent refiners, known as “teapots,” primarily located in Shandong province. Data shows that Iran’s exports continued to grow, averaging 1.5 million barrels per day during the first eight months of 2024. In 2025, over 80% of Iran’s shipped crude went to China, amounting to about 1.38 million barrels per day, or roughly 13% of China’s total seaborne oil imports. These teapots, representing around a quarter of Chinese refining capacity, are attracted to the discounted, sanctioned Iranian crude oil – though they operate on narrow or even negative margins. 

Any disruption affecting Iran would not only reduce Tehran’s export capacity but also constrain China’s energy inflows and unsettle global oil markets, potentially forcing Beijing to secure alternative suppliers as well as reroute shipments along longer and more costly trade corridors while drawing on strategic reserves. The most direct consequence would be the elimination of the discounted Iranian barrels on which Chinese refiners have relied. Using 2025 export volumes as a benchmark, a price differential of $10-14 per barrel would raise China’s daily import bill by roughly $13-18 million, with knock-on effects on the Chinese economy and domestic energy security.  

Energy Security and Strategic Rivalry: US vs. China

For Washington, energy security carries a complex legacy, yet it has re-emerged prominently in public discourse, particularly during the Trump administration. President Trump’s strategy of achieving “energy dominance” has translated into fossil fuel- and critical mineral-friendly policy aimed at strengthening US leverage in global markets.

This approach prioritized deregulation and the rollback of subsidies and previously approved projects in the renewable sector, reflecting a strategic shift toward conventional energy sources as instruments of economic and geopolitical power.

In parallel, the US has maintained a substantial military presence in the Gulf for decades. The US military network, comprising air, naval, and ground installations across the region. This network serves not only as a deterrent against Iranian disruption but also as a guarantor of uninterrupted energy flows through critical chokepoints like the Strait of Hormuz. 

Meanwhile, China has framed its engagement in the Gulf primarily in an economic and development-oriented approach, avoiding overt political alignment. Its partnership with Iran is driven by energy security: heavily discounted Iranian crude supports China’s industrial base, while helping Tehran keeps its economy afloat amid Western sanctions that have restricted its access to global markets and finance. By sustaining these ties despite US pressure, Beijing positions itself as a global power capable of countering the US influence in Southwest Asia. 

Yet this relationship also exposes China’s vulnerability. As the world’s largest crude importer, it depends on stable Gulf energy flows, particularly from Iran. Therefore, military escalation against Tehran will force Beijing to secure alternative suppliers at higher prices, increasing its import bill and exposing its economy to inflationary pressures. It will also constrain Beijing´s expanding role in the Gulf energy landscape, linking the conflict directly to broader US-China strategic competition over access, influence, and control in global energy markets.

Oil Shapes the Next Era of Geopolitics

While Trump has framed the US-Israeli military campaign against Iran as a counterproliferation effort in response to Iran’s refusal to renounce its nuclear ambitions, the confrontation cannot be understood solely through the lens of regime change or nuclear containment. The campaign is also embedded in a broader struggle over energy security and great-power rivalry. 

The escalation underscores how far the global energy transition still has to go: as long as strategic decisions are tied to fossil fuel supply chains, climate goals remain exposed to geopolitical instability. This crisis is more than a regional security issue – it reveals a systemic tension at the core of the global energy system, where reliance on oil, climate vulnerability, and international power rivalries are tightly linked and increasingly unpredictable.

Featured image: youngrobv/Flickr.

A jury’s verdict that found environmental campaigning group Greenpeace liable for more than $660 million was “patently biased,” according to a group of independent human rights lawyers.

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This article was first published on March 21, 2025.

A jury’s verdict that found environmental campaigning group Greenpeace liable for more than $660 million was “patently biased” and “extremely disappointing,” according to a group of independent human rights lawyers who described the trial as “deeply flawed.”

The international lawyers and human rights advocates who monitored the marathon trial in Mandan, North Dakota, said Greenpeace was denied its right to a fair trial and described it as an “illegitimate corporate-funded SLAPP harassment case.”

SLAPPs, or Strategic Lawsuit Against Public Participation, have become a common tool to censor, intimidate, or silence critics by burdening them with costly lawsuits, often on grounds that the critiques are defamatory.

Indigenous-Led Protests

Dallas-based Energy Transfer sued Greenpeace International and its American branch, Greenpeace USA, in 2017 for hundreds of millions of dollars in damages for trespass, nuisance, defamation and other alleged offences in relation to protests that took place in North Dakota in 2016 and 2017.

The campaign was organized by youth from the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe and surrounding Native American communities to protest the construction of the Dakota Access Pipeline, which they argued posed a serious threat to the region’s water supply, ancient burial grounds, and historically significant cultural sites.

In early 2016, dozens of people set up water protector camps near the pipeline construction site at Lake Oahe. In the months that followed, the grassroots movement drew support from tribal governments, politicians, environmental and civil rights groups, and celebrities. At the peak of the demonstrations in September, the camp’s population reached as many as 10,000 people, making it the single-largest gathering of Native Americans in more than a century.

It ended on February 23, 2017, when National Guard and law enforcement officers evicted the last remaining protesters. The oil pipeline was completed in April of that year.

Pipeline’s developer Energy Transfer, an oil and gas company worth almost $70 billion, alleged that the defendants “advanced their extremist agenda to attack and disrupt” its business and its construction of the pipeline through “violent and destructive attacks.” It also alleged that Greenpeace “engaged in large-scale, intentional dissemination of misinformation and outright falsehoods,” including about the pipeline’s environmental impacts. 

The energy company’s CEO, a billionaire and Trump mega-donor Kelcy Warren, has previously said that environmental activists should be “removed from the gene pool.”

Greenpeace has always defended itself, saying it only played a minor role in what were, in fact, Indigenous-led protests.

According to Steven Donziger, an American attorney part of the independent monitoring team, just six of the nearly 100,000 protesters were from Greenpeace.

According to Daniel Simons, Senior Legal Counsel Strategic Defence for Greenpeace International, the organization’s involvement came in the form of funding for five members of an independent Indigenous networks to provide training on non-violent direct action for two weeks. Simons said the group conducted supply drives for the camps, provided short-term staff to help setting up the camp for winter, and donated lock boxes for protesters to form a human chain – though there is no evidence to prove these were ever used.

Backing Greenpeace’s claim that it was not directly involved in the protests was a Lakota organizer, who said in a video deposition played to jurors that the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe led the protests against the pipeline, not Greenpeace. “To be honest, most of the tribal nations didn’t know who Greenpeace was,” Nick Tilsen, an Oglala Sioux Tribe citizen and activist, said in his deposition, as reported by the North Dakota Monitor.

In a press release ahead of the trial, Greenpeace International described the lawsuit as “one of the world’s most brazen examples of SLAPP.”

‘Pervasive Bias’

Jeanne Mirer, a member of the independent trial monitoring group, said they “documented pervasive bias” in the jury pool towards Energy Transfer.

None of the nine jurors was Native American or a person of color. Several even conceded they had ties with the fossil fuel industry prosecuting the case and were biased towards the plaintiff, but the court failed to replace them. Requests to move the trial to a county not directly impacted by the protests also went unanswered, according to the monitoring group.

“The bottom line is that Greenpeace did not get a fair trial,” said Mirer, who is also President of the International Association of Democratic Lawyers. She described the verdict as “extremely disappointing but not surprising.”

The lawyers travelled to North Dakota to monitor the trial in person, after Judge James Gion refused a request from multiple news organizations, including The New York Times and The Washington Post, to livestream the proceedings as a matter of public interest.

The group also accused Gion of making decisions that ensured Greenpeace would not have a fair trial beyond refusing to ensure impartiality among the jurors. “The judge … repeatedly made evidentiary decisions that trespassed on basic legal rights protected by the First Amendment and prejudiced the ability of Greenpeace to present its full defense,” said Donziger, who is best known for his legal battles with Chevron.

The judge also allowed “lawyers for Energy Transfer to openly criminalize and defame” Greenpeace in open court, according to Donziger, who described the acts as “a sad commentary on our court system and on the lack of ethics of Energy Transfer.”

“In my six decades of legal practice, I have never witnessed a trial as unfair as the one that just ended in the courts of North Dakota,” said attorney Martin Garbus, an acclaimed free speech defender whose previous clients include Nelson Mandela and Daniel Ellsberg.

‘Good Chance’ of Winning Appeal

The jury ruled in favor of Energy Transfer on most counts after more than two days of deliberations, awarding the company roughly $667 million. Greenpeace repeatedly warned that such a sum – more than double the entire operating budget of Greenpeace Canada for its entire 54-year history – could bankrupt its US operations.

The campaign group works as an independent network funded by individual contributions and funding grants. It does not accept money from governments, corporations or political parties, according to its website. In 2023, Greenpeace USA had just a little over $40 million in revenue and support, and about $38 million in expenses, its financial statement shows.

“Being SLAPPed in the face with an over $660 million penalty for something we so clearly did not do is not for the faint of heart. But we are not faint of heart,” Greenpeace International’s Director Mads Christensen said following the verdict.

Susha Raman, Interim Executive Director at Greenpeace USA, said the sum was a “very large amount of money” for organizations like Greenpeace, but a “fairly small amount” for Energy Transfer.

“I will just say that this is a large judgment, and this is a large kind of matter for an organization, or set of organizations, like Greenpeace. But you can’t bankrupt a movement,” she told Inside Climate News.

Christensen slammed Energy Transfer, saying its lawyers “did not present a single piece of credible evidence” to support claims he described as “absurd.” This, many argue, makes for a strong appeal case, which Greenpeace is expected to lodge.

“The North Dakota case is so deeply flawed – at its core, the trial was really about crushing dissent – that I believe there is a good chance it will be reversed on appeal and ultimately backfire against the Energy Transfer pipeline company,” Donziger wrote in an opinion piece for the Guardian.

Amsterdam-based Greenpeace International has also launched a lawsuit against the company in the Netherlands, which it hopes will help recover all damages and costs it has incurred in relation to the North Dakota lawsuit. The case cites Dutch law as well as the European Union’s anti-SLAPP Directive. The EU law, which came into force in April 2024, aims to “protect persons who engage in public participation from manifestly unfounded claims or abusive court proceedings (‘Strategic lawsuits against public participation’).”

Featured image: Earthjustice/Flickr.

As the Lunar New Year begins, a collection of conservation wins offers renewed hope that biodiversity loss can be reversed, including green sea turtles coming back from the brink of extinction, wild horses returning to central Asia and rhino poaching declining.

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Last week, firecrackers went off around the world in celebration of the Lunar New Year. According to the Chinese zodiac, 2026 welcomes the year of the Fire Horse – a symbol of vitality, energy and momentum. Experts recommend slowing down and managing the fast-paced changes of the Fire Horse by staying grounded. 

In that spirit, let us pause and reflect on some of the recent progress on biodiversity restoration. From species coming back from the brink of extinction to a decrease in wildlife crimes, here are some of the best conservation stories from 2025. 

From Endangered to Recovering

The International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) is the global authority on the status of the natural world. As part of this work, it publishes the Red List of Threatened Species – the most comprehensive database on the conservation status of animals, plants and fungi, which categorizes species on a scale from “least concern” to “extinct”. Last year, the organization released the latest edition of the Red List, announcing that 20 species were downlisted, meaning they are no longer threatened with extinction. 

Topping the list was the green sea turtle, now classified as “least concern”. In the late 20th century, the species experienced a 48-67% decline due to factors including climate change, pollution, commercial fishing and illegal wildlife trade. However, thanks to conservation efforts, populations have increased by about 28% compared to recorded levels in the 1970s-80s. 

“The ongoing global recovery of the green turtle is a powerful example of what coordinated global conservation over decades can achieve to stabilise and even restore populations of long-lived marine species,” said Roderic Mast, the Co-Chair of IUCN’s Species Survival Commission Marine Turtle Specialist Group.

Along with green sea turtles, 12 bird species were also downlisted, including the Rodrigues fody and warbler, the last two bird species endemic to the small Mauritian island of Rodrigues. Populations of Alexandrine parakeets – named after Alexander the Great, who brought the bird back to Europe from his conquests in the Punjab – have also rebounded, with 90% of the overall population increasing. 

Two types of snail, three kinds of seabream, and a little nocturnal marsupial known as the shark bay bandicoot were also downlisted.

Long-Lost Species Come Home

In 2025, animals were spotted in places where they had not been seen for decades or even centuries across a diversity of landscapes.

In Papua New Guinea, for example, a survey of local fishers led to the rediscovery of the sailback houndshark, which had not been officially recorded since 1970. In conversations with local residents, researchers were told that six houndsharks had been caught as by-catch between 2020 and 2022. This finding highlights the vital importance of supplementing scientific research with local knowledge. 

Meanwhile, in Nepal, scientists recorded the presence of the Asian small-clawed otter – the world’s smallest otter – for the first time in 185 years. Although the otter’s vast range stretches from Indonesia to Nepal, it is currently classified as “vulnerable to extinction” on the IUCN Red List. The confirmed sighting came from Nepalese forestry officials who found an injured juvenile, offering a rare confirmation of the species’ continued presence in the region.

Over in the Eastern Cape province of South Africa, wild Cape vultures were sighted on a farm for the first time in three decades. The birds – the only species endemic to South Africa – have been steadily declining since the 1980s. “Sightings like this […] prove our work is making a difference, motivating us to keep fighting for these critical birds,” said Kerri Wolter, CEO and Founder of Vulpro, the organization that recorded the sighting. 

Rewilding Success Stories

What better way to mark the year of the Fire Horse than with the return of wild horses around the world? Two parallel initiatives are reintroducing Przewalski’s horses to fragile ecosystems, in the hopes of protecting and preserving local biodiversity. The world’s last subspecies were last seen in the wild in the 1960s. Today, all surviving Przewalski’s horses are descended from just 13 individuals through zoo breeding programs. 

Efforts to rewild the horses began in China and Mongolia in the 1990s. Now, through the Prague Zoo’s Return of the Wild Horses project, rewilding is expanding into Kazakhstan. In 2025, seven horses were released into the Altyn Dala State Nature Reserve in Central Kazakhstan through the initiative, with more expected to be released in the coming years. 

In Spain, Przewalski’s horses are also being introduced to the municipality of Villanueva de Alcorón in Guadalajara, where wild horses roamed the Iberian highlands 10,000 years ago. 16 horses were first brought to the area in 2023, with the herd growing to 35 as of 2025. Conservationists hope that through grazing, the horses will mitigate the spread of wildfires which have had devastating impacts on local biodiversity.

In another rewilding win, the European wildcat is returning to the UK after being declared functionally extinct in 2019. For the last three years, 46 of these small felines have been released into the Cairngorms National Park in Scotland. In a sign that rewilding efforts have been successful, seven females gave birth to kittens in 2024, followed by five more last year. 

“Just a few years ago, the species was teetering on the edge of extinction in Scotland. Now we’re watching them not only survive but start to raise their own kittens in the wild. That gives us real hope for the future”, said Helen Senn, Project Lead at Saving Wildcats. The South West Wildcat Project has similar plans to release 50 wildcats in England, starting in 2028. 

The pine marten is also being reintroduced in parts of England. Once prevalent across the UK, the small woodland mammal now only survives in Scotland. Following a successful reintroduction of 15 martens in Dartmoor in 2024, 19 martens were released in Exmoor last September. 

You might also like: Rewilding in Practice: The Return of the Scottish Wildcat

Shifting Trends in Illegal Wildlife Trade

Following decades of sustained pressure, new reports indicate that certain wildlife crimes are decreasing. According to a 2025 IUCN press release, poaching of African white rhinos has been declining since 2021, reaching its lowest rates since 2011 last year. Reports from the Indian state of Assam indicate that no one-horned rhino was poached in 2025 either. 

“Rhino conservation is proving that change is possible. While challenges do remain, successes in South Asia and parts of Africa show that intelligence-led enforcement, community engagement, and secure habitats can reverse declines,” said IUCN Director General Grethel Aguliar. 

According to the Wildlife Justice Commission, the trafficking of pangolin scales and ivory from Asia and Africa has decreased since global supply chains were disrupted by Covid-19. Between 2020 and 2024, the number of multi-ton seizures of ivory and pangolin scales substantially dropped. Additionally, the price of pangolin scales fell by around 70% between 2017 and 2021, while the price of ivory has been declining since 2013 – both signs of weakening demand. 

Finally, a study conducted in the Brazilian Amazon and published last year revealed that community-led patrols reduced the number of recorded environmental crimes by 80% in the 2003-2013 period. Contrastingly, government-led enforcement operations in comparable areas and for the same period led to no reductions. Once more, these findings underscore the importance of centering local communities within conservation efforts. 

The Case for Optimism

These stories offer a glimmer of hope at the start of a year that will undoubtedly be taxing. Optimism in these uncertain times can feel risky, and even naive, but it can also be a tool for resistance. It reminds us that we can recover. 

Progress does not happen overnight. It shows up in quiet, often unpredictable ways. It might take the shape of a young otter or a wild horse. It grows out of continued, concerted efforts by communities to do the right thing, to right the wrongs of the past and build a better future. 

These stories remind us that when people come together to take action, even the most fragile ecosystems can rebound and thrive.

Featured image: Wikimedia Commons.

This novel, ostensibly for young adults, follows a classic story arc: boy meets girl, they dislike each other at first, and later discover that they have more in common than they think. But the narrative takes place in a present-day context of climate action, with the teenagers’ struggles mirroring global climate challenges – in politics, activism, and matters of the heart.

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The action opens under a literal cloud: the smoke of wildfires in the Pacific Northwest of the United States. The chapters are then narrated alternately by Isa and Darius, students at Lakewood High School, rivals for control of the Environmental Justice Club. Isa is a free spirit from a working-class family, who loves the Samoan dance her father introduced her to, and the food her mother cooks at a local restaurant. Darius is a driven, over-achieving student-athlete who collects Advanced Placement classes for fun and cannot decide between applying to Princeton or UCLA.

As co-presidents, the two clash over the mission of their club: should they focus on holding a Model COP in the style of a Model UN, providing a few high-performing students with an experience to put on their college applications (as the incumbent club leader Darius would prefer), or should they take Isa’s advice and engage the greater student population to tackle a local issue? Naturally, the real antagonist of the story is not Darius with his elitist ideas, but an amoral company behind the plan to install a new natural gas pipeline at the port.

If this sounds a lot like the daily conversations climate activists engage in, it is meant to. Everywhere in the book, core themes arise that reflect the decisions of the real-life climate community: local versus global action; which topic to prioritize (go vegan or target fossil fuel producers?); take immediate steps or prepare yourself to tackle the future; and, of course, mitigation or adaptation?

The frustrations of the characters ring true as they tackle these issues. At a low moment, Isa bursts out, “We’re stuck under this fucking immovable heat dome, and instead of getting everyone to talk about how we live in a world where we can’t buy food and have to worry about our homes going up in flames, all we can think to do about it is practice making speeches at a fake UN?!” With the possible omission of the word “fake”, it is a cri-de-coeur that could be heard at any climate conference. A later scene at a public hearing, where the hopeful teenage protagonists are steamrolled by the local political machine, also pulls no punches, and sounds distressingly familiar. Likewise, the somewhat inconclusive finale is an accurate picture of the state of the world today – despite local success we do not yet know whether our efforts will succeed. The good news is that, while working together toward their common goal, Darius and Isa find romance.

However, this book is not written (exclusively) for adults, but for the teenagers who will grow up in an overheated world. Does it work for them? Two young climate activists consulted for the purpose of this review did enjoy the book, but had thoughts about how it could have been better.

“What really worked for us is how the story shows climate change as something real and personal, not just stories we hear on the news, but stuff that actually affects daily life,” Dhaanya and Reaha Ganeriwal of MyGreenMantra told Earth.Org. “Isa and Darius come across like real teenagers doing their best to figure out how to make a difference. The book also does a great job showing local climate issues like wildfires and the gas pipeline.” 

However, the teens wondered whether the book would succeed in inspiring action. “We think the book could do more to make climate action feel cooler and more relatable. Sometimes the book’s activism moments feel serious or stressful, and adding more fun or funny moments or showing characters getting recognized could inspire more readers to jump in,” they said.

While the action in the book generally feels authentic, both this reviewer and the teens wondered at the relative absence of digital communications. “We all spend a lot of time online talking and sharing, and showing this gap between online chats and real-life talks would make the story feel more current and true to how Gen Z and Gen Alpha connect with friends and causes.” Is the story perhaps set in a near future, when a social media ban has been successfully enacted?

One delightful aspect of We Don’t Have Time for This is the casually diverse world of Lakewood High School. Stereotypes are neither embraced nor self-consciously ruptured; the characters simply exist as themselves within a community that includes Americans of a vast array of backgrounds. 

Despite a rather conventional storyline offering few surprises, the novel gives a rare picture of the climate crisis from the point of view of those most affected by it. As the teen readers pointed out, “We really appreciate how the book shows climate change through the eyes of people like us, kids who are going to live through these changes and want to do something about it.”

We Don’t Have Time for This
Brianna Craft
2024, Hyperion, 272pp

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