Saving the environment via human rights

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Is it possible? Is it likely? Appealing a coal mine using the HR Act

By Peter Burnett

A group of young people in Queensland are challenging the approval of Clive Palmer’s giant Waratah coal mine. The challenge is based on human rights – a legal first in Australia – and it just might rewrite the law books.

The Waratah mine, which is near Adani’s Carmichael mine but a separate project, is huge. If my back of the envelope calculations are correct, coal from the Waratah mine represents about 3% of the world’s remaining carbon budget if warming is to be limited to 2 degrees.

Challenging the mine’s approval on the basis of human rights is a novel approach. It’s based on Queensland’s new Human Rights Act (‘HR Act’), passed in 2019. Only the ACT has a comparable Act, though Victoria has a Charter of Rights and there’s a federal Human Rights Commission.

Where does a human rights approach take us?

The HR Act protects a series of rights, including the right to life, right to own property and right of children to protection. It makes no mention of the environment. Rather, the argument will be that the mine breaches human rights by contributing to climate change, which in turn will impair these rights.

The HR Act directs Queensland decision-makers, including those responsible for environmental approvals, to consider human rights and makes it unlawful for them to take decisions that are not compatible with human rights.

No doubt the case against the Waratah mine will involve arguments about the meaning of rights such as the right to life. However, that’s not the interesting part from our environmental perspective.

To prove that the mine would breach their human rights, the applicants will have to establish that it would contribute significantly to climate change. This will involve showing that emissions resulting from the mine would make a significant contribution to global emissions.

So, despite the novel human rights basis for the challenge, we find ourselves back on the familiar but troublesome environmental terrain, traversed in earlier challenges based on environmental laws, of demonstrating the contribution of individual developments to climate change.

The substitution argument

The mine is probably big enough to rate as a significant potential contributor to emissions. The problem is causation: if the coal is mined and exported, will this actually increase emissions by the amount of carbon in the coal? Is there additionality of impact?

Additionality is not a simple physical cause and effect issue. Before it is burnt, the coal is sold into a market, in which human actors take independent and unpredictable transactional decisions.

This then raises the ‘substitution argument’, an economic argument that the coal from this mine may substitute for another energy source, such as lower quality coal, in which case the Waratah coal might even reduce emissions if the low quality coal is thereby pushed out of the market and left in the ground.

But there are variations and elaborations on the substitution argument. In one case the federal environment minister, considering whether to approve the Adani coal mine in 2016, argued in effect that it was not possible to tell who would buy the coal, what it would replace, or how other suppliers might respond, which meant that it was not possible to tell whether there would be any additional impact.

The minister instead declared himself satisfied that emissions associated with the project would be managed through the Paris Agreement. The Federal Court accepted this as a legally valid approach.

In the more-recent Rocky Hill case, Chief Judge Preston of the NSW Land and Environment Court rejected another version of the argument, which amounted to ‘if we don’t mine this coal, someone else will supply something worse’. Justice Preston rejected this ‘lesser of two evils’ framing in favour of what amounted to a presumption of additionality, which could only be displaced by evidence of substitution.

Will the courts reject the substitution argument?

On the face of it, this latest challenge might lead to an appeal court ruling, possibly from the High Court, on the substitution argument. If favourable to the young appellants, this might lead to an outcome where, subject to the specifics of the laws concerned, environmental assessments must consider downstream (Scope 3) carbon emissions on the basis that their potential emissions were their actual emissions.

However, the courts will not necessarily accept or reject the substitution argument. When reviewing the use of such arguments by decision makers, most courts, and certainly appeal courts, are not deciding which substitution argument is the best approach to analysing downstream impacts, but whether the approach chosen is legitimate.

The problem is that most versions of the substitution argument have some legitimacy – they just vary in their assumptions or predictions about whether and how markets might respond to the sale of the coal.

The underlying problem

The challenge brought by this group of young people is innovative and bold, but I think the new path they have taken will lead eventually to the same swamp of substitution that has caused problems before.

The underlying problem is that we don’t have a comprehensive climate policy including a carbon budget. If we did, the question might be whether we should allocate a significant share of our budget to a coal mine (and, if the system allocates Scope 3 budgets to importing countries: do they want to allocate their carbon budget to importing more coal)?

At the end of the day, this challenge is another attempt to force our bottom-up project approval system to address what is really a top-down issue: what is our carbon budget and how should we allocate it?

You never know, this challenge just might rewrite the law books, and you can certainly understand why people keep trying, against the odds.

But it would be so much simpler if we just adopted a comprehensive climate policy.

Image by Steve Buissinne from Pixabay

The man who shamed the PM

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and thereby saved Australia

By David Salt

How did we do it? How did Australia beat COVID 19 when most other countries failed; failure being their inability to prevent the overloading of their health systems and the consequent death of tens of thousands of lives that should have been saved.

Is it because Australia has better leaders? Better health officials? Better people? Better geographical positioning?

Maybe our island continent’s physical isolation helped a little but I don’t think the other human factors had much to do with it, not directly anyway. Our health officials delivered similar advice to those health officials overseas but leaders in other nations often ignored this advice and shut the gate only after the horse had bolted (then searched for a scapegoat when their citizens started dying needlessly).

But our leaders followed the scientific advice pretty much to the letter. However, this is not in keeping with their behaviour in recent years in which they felt free to ignore, discount, denigrate or deny scientific advice that ran counter to their politics and ideology – think death of rivers, collapse of coral reefs and skyrocketing extinction rates.

And yet this time they did listen. What’s more, they showed how effective our federal system of governance could be when federal and state governments pulled together. How did we do it? Why did we do it differently this time?

The answer, I believe, is that our nation was primed for an unprecedented national response to an unprecedented national emergency by an earlier unprecedented national emergency. And I’ll make my case on this using what happened when our Prime Minister mis-read this earlier unprecedented national emergency.

Our PM’s Black Summer

Remember our Black Summer? The fires were extinguished only a couple of months ago but COVID 19 has relegated that disastrous time to a different age. But I reckon it was our experience of Black Summer that made the difference on how Australia responded to the ensuing COVID 19 pandemic.

And maybe the defining moment during this horror season on wildfire was when our Prime Minister Scott Morrison was rebuffed after making a unilateral announcement to bring in the army reserve on Saturday 4 January.

It was already clear by that stage that the Federal Government’s standard command-and-control approach wasn’t cutting the mustard. But, true to form, our leaders pushed on hoping to push through. And they played down the connection with climate change: ‘let’s not talk about that now, we must focus on the emergency’.

But the fire emergency was still escalating so the Government called out the army reserve without telling the states and simultaneously put out a political ad telling Australia what a great job it was doing. And they did it on the very day the wildfires were at their unstoppable worst.

The real heroes of the moment were the firies and emergency workers. When the NSW Rural Fire Service Commissioner Shane Fitzsimmons was told of the army reserve call out (by the media, not by the Federal Government) he was flabbergasted describing the manner of the announcement as “atrocious”.

And the whole country sat back and wondered what an earth the national government was playing at. Can they not see that in a time of national emergency that politics and ideology has to take a back seat to reasoned, evidence-based, co-operative action?

Well maybe that reality became apparent because after that incident they went decidedly quiet, letting the states, who have primary responsibility for fire management, take the running.

Not a panacea

A little bit later during this unfolding catastrophe, Conservative political leaders including our Prime Minister started looking around for a scapegoat for the wildfires and, predictably, targeted environmental groups and the Green Party as responsible for preventing hazard reduction burning in the lead up to the Black Summer.

Again, Commissioner Fitzsimmons spoke truth to power saying that hazard reduction is important but not a panacea for bushfire risk and has “very little effect at all” on the spread of fire in severe or extreme weather.

Fitzsimmons also pointed out that hazard reduction burning itself is extremely challenging and hazardous. What I didn’t know at that time but subsequently discovered on ABC’s Australian Story is that Fitzsimmons knows the perils of hazard reduction personally – his father burnt to death in a hazard reduction burn in Sydney’s north in the year 2000.

So one of our true national heroes of the Black Summer, Shane Fitzsimmons, called out our national government on at least two occasions while simultaneously showing what calm dedicated leadership looked like. Many hold him up as the type of leader we need in a national emergency.

It takes a disturbance to be prepared for a disturbance

If there is a silver lining on our Black Summer it’s that it knocked the hubris and arrogance out of our national government’s approach to dealing with mass disturbance. Had it have been a ‘normal’ summer I believe we would have taken our lead from the UK or the USA on how to deal with Covid 19. And, in prioritizing the economy over the environment and discounting the science (our normal modus operandi), we would likely have led to the same death rates those countries are now experiencing (an outcome many are putting down to failed leadership).

Much has been written about how different countries have coped. It’s been suggested that South Korea and Taiwan have both fared well because they both previously experienced SARS and MERS, two respiratory pandemics very similar to Covid 19. They didn’t take it for granted and didn’t treat it like a flu, they responded appropriately.

I think our biggest risk now is believing the myth that Australia has done well because Australian’s (and Australian leaders) are a cut above the rest, that we are superior. We aren’t. We were lucky. Above all else, our decision makers approached the task of keeping Australia safe through the pandemic with a degree of humility, acceptance of the evidence and collegiality that has been missing from Australian politics for many years.

The smirk is back

And now, as Australia looks to be ahead of the (flattened) curve, I fear the smugness and arrogance is creeping back in. The idealogues are seizing back the pulpits, and tribal politics is beginning to strangle our winning formulation.

The months ahead look uncertain and strange. We’ve beaten the first wave but how will we go with the second and third?

The biggest national disturbance prior to this was the Global Financial Crisis in 2007. Once again, as a nation, we reacted strongly and well. But there was collateral damage. In the following year the GFC helped knock the wheels off our Carbon Pollution Reduction Scheme, and our politics has been a shameless dog fight ever since.

There are two lessons here for our national leaders. The first is that circumstances (history and path dependency) play a large part in our triumphs and failures. The second, contained in the first, is that pride goeth before a fall.

Image by David Salt

Is a positive environmental narrative possible?

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Maybe we should be turning to hope rather than fear

By Peter Burnett

One of the challenges of working in the environmental field is that both the news and the prospects are almost relentlessly negative. Bad things have happened and there’s much worse to come.

The public don’t like it either. There is research suggesting that trying to promote policy and behavioural change through fear, by warning people of likely environmental disaster, does not work and can even be counterproductive.

This made me wonder whether our environmental situation can be compared to Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief, experienced by people diagnosed with a terminal illness. The first two stages are denial and anger, words which seem to describe climate change denialism quite well.

If this is right, the obvious solution for those trying to build public support for stronger environment policy is to identify positive narratives that are based on hope rather than fear. I thought I’d look at some positive narratives to see whether they might provide support for better policy in Australia. I’m hoping this is more than just wishful thinking.

Imports down, national security up

The first narrative concerns import substitution. Although we produce a reasonable amount of oil, we export three quarters of it and import more than 80% of what we consume. This is because ‘oils aint oils’; different grades of oil are used for different purposes.

If we could replace imported oil with renewable energy, mostly by switching to electric vehicles, there’d be a double benefit, not including environmental gains.

Replacing an imported energy with renewable energy from local sources would improve our balance of payments, which is good for the economy. We could spend our import dollar on other things.

It would also benefit our national security by reducing our dependence on other countries, and thus our foreign policy concern with the Middle East, long an area of instability.

In particular, it would largely remove the need for us to hold a three month supply of oil in reserve, just in case international supply chains were disrupted. This is a policy that members of the International Energy Agency adopted in the 1970s after the first global oil crisis, brought on by OPEC countries imposing an oil embargo in response to the Yom Kippur war.

Australia has not been complying with this obligation in recent years and is taking advantage of the COVID-19 crisis to play catchup by buying cheap oil and storing it in America until we can build enough storage here.

Post-carbon superpower

The second narrative is based on reshaping the domestic economy. In his 2019 book Superpower, Ross Garnaut argued that Australia’s wealth of renewable resources offered it an unparalleled opportunity to become an energy superpower in a decarbonising world.

His most powerful argument was that because green hydrogen (hydrogen produced from renewable energy) was best used at source rather than exported (because liquefying hydrogen for transport is energy-intensive and costly), we could shift from exporting mineral ores such as iron and aluminium, to refining those ores into metals domestically.

Recently, the Grattan Institute has buttressed this argument. In its report Start with Steel Grattan argues that, instead of exporting green hydrogen, we should use it to make ‘green steel’. Green steel is made by using hydrogen, rather than coal, to strip the oxygen out of iron ore, leaving water as the by-product rather than carbon dioxide. The metal is then refined into steel.

This is only the most prominent example. Australia’s wealth of mineral and renewable resources would allow us to move up the supply chain in a range of high tech, low carbon, industries, such as producing batteries for electric cars.

Yes we can!

I have called the third and most recent positive narrative to emerge ‘yes we can’, after President Obama’s 2008 campaign slogan.

Although the COVID-19 crisis has been both a health and economic disaster, it has produced some unexpected positives.

One is national cooperation, led by a new body, the national cabinet. Another is public cooperation, manifested through high levels of compliance with the draconian restrictions associated with lockdown.

While it is too early to tell, it seems that the political ground may have shifted because of the virus. Commentators are talking about proceeding with reforms that, until recently, were gridlocked politically, like tax reform, all in the interests of helping economic recovery.

Beyond reforms related directly to economic recovery, I detect at least some sentiment that if we can cope with corona we can cope with other things too, so let’s make the most of the opportunity and deal with other threats as well.

This is the most tenuous of the three narratives.

Where to from here?

All three narratives are real and, for added effect, they could all be developed at once, as they are complementary.

This does not mean any of them will gain traction. They are only part of the recipe.

The missing ingredient is political will, which will emerge only with political leadership (a ‘pull’ factor) or a groundswell of public opinion (a ‘push’ factor).

Moreover, it seems equally likely that negative environmental narratives could gain traction, for example that economic recovery requires ‘sacrifices’, including the by-passing of any environmental concern that would delay a development approval.

However, I think you can see just from the examples I have provided here, positive environmental narratives are not only possible, they are viable.

Maybe we should be asking ourselves what we need to do to make them real.

Image by Colin Behrens from Pixabay

Joining the dots (again) on Sustainability Bites

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66 bites / 5 sustainability themes / the story continues

By David Salt

In a world staggering from one crisis to the next, stricken with plague and quarreling over solutions, where lies the true path to sustainability? Have we got a story for you, and we present it in 66 compelling chapters.

But can we sustain it

When we began Sustainability Bites I’m not sure how long Peter or I thought we could sustain it. It was a nice idea to write up our reflections on sustainability but how many blogs did we have in us? What would run out first: ideas, enthusiasm or available time?

Well, as it has turned out, we’re still putting them out a year and a half later. Indeed, we’re two thirds of the way to cracking a century!

I attempted to reflect on possible emerging themes arising from our musings back when we had completed 33 blogs (a third of a century; see Have we bitten off more than we can chew?), and I thought I’d repeat the exercise now at 66.

Back at blog #33 I suggested I could see five themes constantly emerging in our commentaries:
1. The challenge of change (and the importance of crisis);
2. The culture of science (and its failure to influence policy);
3. The burden of politics and ideology (frustrating the development of good policy);
4. The value of good policy; and
5. The importance of history.

Well I think these five overarching themes still apply to our musings but I’m happy to say I don’t think we’re simply rehashing the same words over and over again.

History in the making

Our first 33 blogs set out what we believed sustainability involved, with commentaries on how governments here and overseas (though mainly Australian) were tackling the goal of sustainability. We reflected a little on the history of sustainability, called out inconsistencies between government rhetoric and action, and delved in to the ideology and culture of science and politics.

I’ve listed those first 33 stories at the end of this blog in the order they appeared (Appendix 1) with links to each piece if you see something that catches your interest that you may have missed first time round (or maybe you only started following us recently).

Our second tranche of 33 essays covered the same basic ground but were developed in a time when sustainability policy seemed to go through enormous upheaval and contention as our nation endured disaster after disaster.

The big stories we commented on in several ways in our second 33 blogs included:
-the review of Australia’s premier environmental law, the EPBC Act
-the growing societal rejection of government inaction (and denialism) on climate change
-a season of unprecedented wildfires (and the politics it provoked)
-the collapse of the Great Barrier Reef
-the consequences of the pandemic on business as usual; and
-the use and abuse of crisis, hyper partisanship and ideology
I’ve listed those second 33 stories at the end of this blog as well (see Appendix 2) if you’d like to jump into any of these pieces.

Here are a few comments on the five themes I see overarching our individual stories:

1. The challenge of change (and the importance of crisis)

In our first 33 blogs we came to the repeated conclusion that achieving enduring change is hard. Often it’s politically impossible. Vested interests, competing ideologies and weak governance frequently conspire to defeat our best intentions. We concluded on several occasions that enduring change is probably only achieved through crisis. The status quo needs some form of disturbance to weaken its hold to enable a change in rules to occur.

Well, be careful what you wish for. This recent ‘summer of our discontent’ has brought more crisis than anyone thought possible (though all of it is well within predictions made by the scientific community).

Will change result? Almost certainly. Will it be change for a more sustainable future? Maybe. Or maybe it will see a massive decline in environmental protection as the economy ‘snaps back’ to full speed (double speed?) and crushes everything in its path.

2. The culture of science (and its failure to influence policy)

This theme continued to develop in our second set of 33 blogs. Scientists cried apocalypse, wrote massive public letters, and called governments out time and again on climate denialism. Meanwhile forests burned, coral reefs fried and landscapes withered.

Everything the scientists were warning us about seemed to be coming true and yet our government held fast to its line that everything is okay and Australia should be proud of its performance. While grudgingly acknowledging that there might be a connection between the fires and climate change, it wasn’t something they could deal with till the crisis was passed. Having got passed it, now we only talk about the plague.

So what do I expect scientists to do? I really don’t know. If they become advocates or start manning the barricades then they’re no longer practicing science. And yet the science by itself seems so impotent.

3. The burden of politics and ideology

Surely something has got to give? The neo-liberal conservative ideology that sits behind climate denialism cannot be sustained given what our country (and the world) is enduring – surely? And yet it does. Could it be that when everything else has been burnt, withered and wasted, our ideology will still be standing, still declaring its intrinsic rightness – that would be the ideology of whoever is left standing. (It’s been pointed out to me that ‘denialism’ is driven by more than neo-liberal ideology. That might be so but it paves the way by promoting the view that the market will solve all problems and that non-market things do not count. Of course it’s much more complex than I present here, and there’s a strong thread of libertarianism interwoven through this tapestry of deceit. The net effect is continuing poor outcomes in the face of overwhelming evidence that we should be doing something different.)

4. The value of good policy

Whereas I tend to despair and begin to rant (as in point 3) when I consider the rampant environmental decline all around me (largely discounted by government), Peter looks for constructive policy solutions that may or may not be applied but at the very least deserve serious consideration. For example, Peter devoted several blogs to exploring environmental accounts and environmental impact studies and how they relate to effective environmental protection (in both sets of 33 blogs).

It will be interesting to see if good policy takes the fore as we move deeper into this crisis riven year.

5. The importance of history

To understand why a good policy is not implemented in an appropriate way, or why ideology so often trumps rationality, it’s important to understand the historical context and development of an idea or process. Many of the stories we have examined have long histories, and to understand why something works as it does it’s necessary to see from where it came and how it has changed.

The historical antecedents of sustainability policy was a much greater talking point in our first 33 blogs though it still featured in many of the second tranche. Possibly the reason for this is that it seems that history was being made even as we wrote the second set, and it was all we could do to reflect on what was unfolding around us.

Last year’s drought seemed to be a game changer but it was dwarfed by the scale of ensuing fires which in turn has been swallowed by the enormity of the Covid 19 pandemic (and somehow, while all this was happening, no-one seemed to notice that the Great Barrier Reef had been king hit by another mass bleaching event, the most extensive to date).

What will come out the other end of this run of crises is anyone’s guess but it’s a sure bet that what we think is happening now will likely be revised and reinterpreted many times as we move away from these tumultuous times – though possibly towards even more tumult.

Maybe I’ll have the answer by blog #100.

Image by Flo K from Pixabay

Appendix 1: Our first 33 Bites [in order of appearance with themes in brackets]

1. Environmental Sustainability: a thoroughly Conservative notion[Ideology; history]
2. Sustainability, ‘big government’ and climate denialism [Ideology, science]
3. Why Can’t We Agree on Fixing the Environment? Tribalism & short termism[Politics, crisis]
4. Wishing for a ‘Goldilocks’ crisis’A crack in the Greenland Ice Sheet [Change, crisis, history]
5. How are we going Australia’s OECD decadal Environmental Report Card [Good policy]

6. Throwing pebbles to make change:is it aim or timing?[Crisis and change]
7. The BIG fixWhy is it so hard [Crisis, politics]
8. Duelling scientists: Science, politics and fish kills [science culture, politics]
9. Making a difference without rocking the boat The FDR Gambit [Crisis, good policy, politics]
10. Throwing pebbles and making waves: Lake Pedder and the Franklin Dam[Crisis, history]

11. Ending duplication in Environmental Impact Assessments [Policy, history]
12. Is science the answer? Technology is not the solution[Science, ideology]
13. Environmental Impact Assessment and info bureacracy [Policy, politics]
14. Confessions of a cheerleader for science: delaying action because science will save us[Science, ideology]
15. Caldwell and NEPA: the birth of Environmental Impact Assessment[History, policy]

16. This febrile environment: elections, cynicism and crisis[Politics, crisis]
17. 20 Year review of the EPBC – Australia’s national environment law [Policy, politics, history]
18. Saving the world’s biodiversity: the failure of the CBD and the need for transformative change[Policy, history, politics]
19. The value of Environmental Impact Assessment [Policy, history]
20. Retreat from reason – nihilism fundamentalism and activism [Ideology, crisis, politics]

21. Too late for no regrets pathway: a pathway to real sustainability[Politics, policy, history]
22. A short history of sustainability: how sustainable development developed[History, policy, crisis]
23. Kenneth Boulding and the spaceman economy: view from Spaceship Earth[History, policy]
24. A real climate change debate: science vs denialism[Science, politics, ideology]
25. Craik Review on green tape: environmental regulation impact on farmers[Policy, politics]

26. Trinity and the dawn of the Anthropocene [History, science]
27. An environmental accounting primer [Policy, history]
28. Displacement activityit’s what you do when you don’t have a real environmental policy [Politics, policy]
29. The Productivity Commission and environmental regulation [Policy, politics]
30. Framing climate change: is it a moral or an economic issue [Politics, ideology]

31. The Sustainable Development Goals: game changer or rehash [Policy, history]
32. The Great Barrier Reef: best managed reef in the world down the drain [Science, policy, politics]
33. Doing the Tesla Stretch electric cars to our economic rescue [Policy, politics]

Appendix 2: Our second 33 bites [in order of appearance with main themes in brackets]

34. Joining the dots on Sustainability Bites – looking back on 33 blogs[reflection, history]
35. What’s in the EPBC Box? – Unpacking Australia’s primary environmental law [policy, EPBC Act]
36. I’ll match your crisis and raise you one Armageddon – playing the crisis game [crisis, politics]
37. Federal environmental planning – planning should be strengthened in the EPBC Act [policy, EIA]
38. Shame Greta Shame – the use of ‘shame’ to affect change [politics, shame, denialism]

39. Is Corporate Social Responsibility an environmental ‘Dodge’? – [business, social responsibility]
40. On the taboo of triage – why politicians don’t talk about triage [politics, policy, denialism]
41. 2019 Senate Environment Estimates – [politics, policy, news]
42. I’m so angry I’m going to write a letter!! – the value of the ‘letter’ from experts [politics, science culture, denialism]
43. Supplementary Environmental Estimates – [politics, policy, news]

44. The script that burns us – predicatable responses to wildfire [politics, ideology, denialism]
45. Announcing ‘Australia’s Strategy for Nature’ – what’s in this new policy [politics, policy]
46. But we’re only a tiny part of the problem! – unpacking denialist cant [politics, policy, denialism]
47. Will next year be a big one for biodiversity? – the importance of 2020 [policy, environmental accounts]
48. Positioning ‘The Environment’ – rearranging government departments [policy, politics]

49. Insights on government thinking from 20 years ago – release of parliamentary papers[policy, history]
50. Five lies that stain the nation’s soul – the government’s worst lies [politics, denialism]
51. Now is the summer of our discontent – reflecting on an awful summer [politics, disturbance]
52. On ‘resilience’ as a panacea for disaster – hiding behind notions of resilience [politics, disturbance, resilience]
53. By all accounts, can we manage to save biodiversity? – environmental accounts to the rescue [policy, environmental accounts]

54. Conversations with the devil – false news is amplified by tribalism [polarization, tribalism]
55. A tale of two climate bills – laws proposed by an independent and the Greens [policy, politics]
56. Dawn of the new normal (?) – when will we acknowledge climate change [policy, politics, disturbance]
57. Insensible on coal – why is coal the elephant in the room[policy, politics, disturbance]
58. The zero sum game – from biodiversity to emissions – ‘net’ zero carbon emissions[policy, politics, offsets]

59. ‘Practical Environmental Restoration’– the Government always talks about ‘practical’ [policy, politics, offsets]
60. A good decision in a time of plague – the process is more important than the decision itself [policy, governance]
61. A pathway for the Coalition to improve its climate change act – the 2020 climate policy toolkit [policy, politics, climate change]
62. Entering a no-analogue future – Covid 19 is giving us the world to come [Anthropocene, Covid 19]
63. Who’s the BOS? – Biodiversity offsets – state vs commonwealth [policy, politics, offsets]

64. Three letters on the apocalypse – putting a human frame on disaster [climate change, communication]
65. Washing off the virus – what happens to environmental regulation after the plague [policy, politics]

Washing off the virus

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Will we throw the environmental baby out with the bathwater?

By Peter Burnett

In canvassing our recovery from the COVID-19 crisis, Prime Minister Scott Morrison has made bold statements about giving first priority to growing the economy through a business-led recovery. Finance Minister Mathias Cormann has deployed equally strong language about an ‘aggressive’ deregulation agenda.

The strength of such language must give anyone concerned about the environment pause for thought. There’s no doubt the economy will need some heavy duty kick-starting as we recover from the COVID-19 disaster.

However, might this crisis be used to justify a political narrative about environmental regulation being ‘green tape’? Could we, in the name of curing the current big crisis, end up accelerating the next big crisis, brought on by environmental decline?

Wrapped in green tape

Federal Environment Minister Sussan Ley already has a predilection for the green tape narrative. Announcing the current review of the Australia’s national environmental law, the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act (EPBC Act) last October, she cast the review as an opportunity to cut ‘green tape’ and increase certainty for business.

The environment itself was only mentioned in the context of ‘maintaining high environmental standards’. Ley expressed no concern about the ongoing decline of the environment itself. And this was well before the COVID-19 crisis.

It is fair enough for the Government to look for increased efficiency, including in regulatory processes, as part of a plan for environmental recovery.

In federal environmental regulation, my first suggestion for efficiency would have been to fund the regulatory process properly. Successive governments have reduced efficiency by whittling departmental resources away through inflated ‘efficiency dividends’, code for general cuts. As a result, delays have gotten longer and longer, but of course they could have been reduced again by restoring the money.

But it seems that the Government is already on top of this one.

In November 2019 (ie, still before the crisis), it announced a $25m ‘congestion busting’ initiative to reduce delays in federal environmental assessments, including by establishing a major projects team ‘to ensure assessments can be completed efficiently and thoroughly in accordance with the Act.’

Recently, Ley announced that this initiative was delivering what appears to be significant progress. As of December, only 19% of ‘key assessment decision points’ were being met. But by March 2020 this had improved dramatically, to 87%. What’s more, the Minister says that figure should reach 100% by June 2020, all without relaxing any environmental safeguards under the EPBC Act.

In other words, the problem of slow environmental approvals will be solved in a couple of months.

I must admit to scepticism about this claim. I suspect that the assessments are much more superficial than they once were, more reliant now on accepting information provided by proponents and state regulators.

I also suspect that the introduction of user-charging for federal environmental assessments a few years ago, together with limited resources for compliance, mean that there are fewer projects under assessment. This is because proponents abandon a bias towards referring projects on a ‘just-in-case’ basis, in favour of a risk management approach, under which proponents weigh the costs of referral against knowledge that compliance action for failure to refer is unlikely.

However, let’s take the Government’s claims at face value for the moment and accept that regulatory delays, at least at the federal end, are on the way out. What else could they do to speed up environmental approvals?

More juice in the efficiency lemon

Even if individual statutory timelines are met, overall timelines can still be reduced, first by removing duplication between federal and state processes and also by removing delay at the proponent’s end. This latter kind doesn’t count as regulatory delay but is, of course, still delay.

Duplication is a complex issue and reform is a medium term task. But short-term gains could be achieved administratively, by forming federal-state task forces, ie by putting regulatory staff from both levels of government into a single team, tasked with shepherding the project through all processes as quickly as possible.

In the past I would have said the politics wouldn’t allow this, but I would also have said that a thing called ‘National Cabinet’ would never work. These are extraordinary times.

Proponents could also contribute to a task force model. I wouldn’t recommend direct secondment of proponent staff to task forces, as this is mixing the foxes in with the hens, but by increasing resources for their own project teams proponents could improve quality and responsiveness, both of which are essential to timely environmental assessment.

Avoiding the temptations of short-termism

So there are some gains to be had. Yet the temptation in a crisis is to grab onto anything and everything that might conceivably help deal with the problem at hand, taking a ‘tomorrow-can-look-after-itself’ attitude to any longer term consequences. And this is no ordinary crisis.

Beyond the marginal gains of efficiency, trading parts of the environment itself for a short term economic hit could look very tempting.

The OECD is alive to this issue and has come out with all guns blazing. In a recent statement, OECD Secretary General Angel Gurría argues, not just against weakening environmental standards, but in favour of stronger standards. In his view, governments should seize ‘a unique chance for a green and inclusive recovery … a recovery that not only provides income and jobs, but also has broader well-being goals at its core, integrates strong climate and biodiversity action, and builds resilience.’

In other words, kill two birds with one stone. Use your spending on post-virus economic recovery to advance longer term environmental recovery. Gurría has a three point plan for this:

First, align short-term emergency responses to long-term economic, social and environmental objectives and international obligations (ie, leverage your investment).

Second, prevent lock-in, not only of high-emissions activities, but also of impacts on vulnerable groups, who have been the worst affected by COVID-19. A key way to do this is through a fair transition to a low-carbon economy.

Third, policy integration. Integrate environmental and equity considerations into the economic recovery. This means that infrastructure investment, as well as government support to virus-affected sectors, should pass the test of contributing to a low carbon economy.

Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater

The OECD is often described as a club for rich nations. And rich nations, including Australia, could be expected to take a conservative view about maintaining wealth.

Yet this advice sounds rather left of centre. In fact, in an Australian context, it is redolent of the mostly unlamented Rudd/Gillard/Rudd Government, which aligned its short term emergency responses to long term environmental objectives (think Pink Batts, 2008) and also pursued a fair transition to a low-carbon economy by compensating low income earners for the impact of the carbon price (think Clean Energy Future, 2011).

In my view the OECD is right but, in Australia, its advice may be cruelled by our recent political history. If the Government were to take the OECD’s environmentally-responsible but mildly collectivist advice it would be accused of taking the Rudd/Gillard path to disaster.

On the other hand, if the Australian Government follows through on its current rhetoric of a growth-led recovery and aggressive deregulation, we may be headed for solutions that throw the baby out with the bathwater.

Which will it be?

Image by Pezibear from Pixabay

Three letters on the apocalypse

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Conveying global impacts of climate change often requires a smaller human framing

By David Salt

The Great Barrier Reef is dying. It’s been hit by another mass bleaching, the most extensive to date. It’s the third mass bleaching in five years but this time it’s hardly caused a ripple in a world struggling to cope with a pandemic. We’ll get through this pandemic but the loss of the world’s largest coral ecosystem is a tragedy that will stay with us forever.

The progressive destruction of the Great Barrier Reef (and coral reefs in general) is the result of climate change and raised water temperatures. It’s a consequence of human activity. To address it we need to modify human activity but so far such changes have proved beyond the capacity of the societies in which we live.

Trying to engage people on the consequences of climate change can be very difficult. It’s big, its complex, and it’s happening all around us. There’s so much information to absorb (and disinformation to avoid), so many strongly held views, so many vested interests attempting to skew the debate in their own favour. It’s often hard to keep up, and so much easier to tune out. We need to explore stories that will keep people tuned in.

King hit

Do you remember when the first big episode of mass coral bleaching occurred early in 2016? I do.

Reef scientists knew something bad was coming their way and deployed a lot of cameras to capture the event. But the scale of death and destruction exceeded their worst fears. Ninety three percent of the vast northern section of the reef, the most pristine region of the GBR, was bleached leading to the death of almost a quarter of the coral.

If left alone, the reef would recover but all the modelling of our warming world suggested the bleaching events would increase in number and severity. Indeed, 2017 saw a return of the bleaching, this time focussed on the middle section. (And the 2020 event is hitting the southern regions.)

I felt sick in my stomach at the implications of what we witnessed in 2016 and was more than a little surprised when the Government glossed over the tragedy telling the world their 2050 Reef Plan was on top of the problem, even though this plan didn’t even deal with climate change.

Following those mass bleachings I remember attempting to communicate their significance to environmental science students I was teaching. I found that the actual numbers surrounding the event were so large and somewhat technical that they seemingly lacked impact, they were difficult to engage with.

Three letters

So, I searched around for commentaries by people and groups I trusted, and I attempted to convey the impact of this bleaching event using some of the words that I myself found moving.

The first message I used was in an email from a colleague, a marine ecologist. This colleague was a co-author on the Nature paper that categorically connected the bleaching with global warming and in this email she discussed the significance of the findings.

The paper showed that record temperatures had triggered massive coral bleaching across the tropics (it was way more than just the Great Barrier Reef). The study also showed that better water quality or reduced fishing pressure did not significantly reduce the severity of bleaching, something that the government had been hoping would save the Reef – indeed, this was the centre of their management strategy. What’s more, past exposure to bleaching in 1998 and 2002 did not lessen the severity of the bleaching in 2016, which debunked the hope that the reef might ‘adapt’ to warming.

This is all pretty important stuff but possibly it’s more technical than the broader community can easily absorb.

The reason I shared this email with my students was because my colleague finished with the statement: “This is the most depressing paper I have ever been involved in!”

Most researchers would be ecstatic to get their name on a Nature paper but the conclusions of this one signified the death of an ecosystem my colleague had devoted her life to.

Civil society

The second letter I shared with my class was a public letter from 90 eminent Australians to billionaire Gautam Adani to say Australians want clean energy, not a new coal mine. Australians who signed the open letter included senior business leaders, sporting legends, Australians of the Year, authors, farmers, musicians, scientists, economists, artists and community leaders. Names included Ian and Greg Chappell, Missy Higgins, Tim Winton, Peter Garrett and businessmen Mark Burrows, John Mullen and Mark Joiner.

Of course, the company Adani was (and still is) attempting to develop the Carmichael coal project in the Galilee Basin in Central Queensland. The project involves a 60 million tonne per annum coal mine, a 388km long rail line and the construction of a new coal export terminal at the Abbot Point coal port.

The scientists are adamant the extraction of coal from this mine would be the death knell of coral reefs everywhere. The fact that this mine is in the backyard of the GBR only adds salt to the wound.

I shared this letter because it conveyed the deep visceral antipathy held by many of our community leaders to the growing impact of fossil fuels on the ecosystems we hold dear.

It should be noted that at the same time this letter was being delivered to Adani, the Queensland Premier and six regional mayors visited India to promote the controversial Adani megamine because it promised regional jobs.

The scientific consensus

The third letter was on a similar theme. It was from the Climate Change Council, a science-based group advocating action on climate change, to the Federal Government. It pleaded with the government to not support Adani in developing its rail line from the Carmichael Mine to the coast. It provided a thoroughly researched and well-articulated argument on what the science says about the impact of a new mega coal mine: “Supporting this mine would fly in the face of advice from experts who have collectively devoted over 1,200 years studying climate change, marine ecosystems and coral reefs,” the Climate Change Council said.

Their letter finished with this succinct plea: “We urge you, on behalf of the 69,000 people to whom the Reef provides a job, the 500 million people worldwide who rely on coral reefs for their food and livelihoods, and the millions of Australians who are passionate about the protecting the Reef, that you make your decision based on the science.”

I thought it was a fairly compelling argument myself, but then I accept the science. But the argument was largely rejected and ignored by the Government. The Adani mine was approved and is now under development.

Apocalypse now

I titled this story ‘3 letters on the apocalypse’ because it sounds punchy, and the point I’m making here is it’s difficult to punch through on environmental decline when it’s bigger and more pervasive than our senses (and cognition) can readily absorb. One way we can try is by sharing other people’s responses, putting the events into a human frame.

Think about how popular media attempted to convey the impact of the Black Summer super-fires eastern Australia has just endured. The numbers (burnt hectares, lost houses, lives ended) are literally beyond our ability to assimilate but the horror of individual stories of loss cut through.

While the word ‘apocalypse’ is hyperbolic I think it’s appropriately used here for both the mass bleachings and the super-fires. Its religious connotation is of an ‘end of times’, and that is quite fitting when applied to what’s happening on the Reef. The frequency of these events means that coral reefs like the GBR now have a new identity. They are turning into something else, a system which will have a different composition and structure, a system that is unlikely to provide us a rich yield of ecosystem goods and services that it currently does.

But the word ‘apocalypse’ has another meaning as well. It’s derived from the Greek word meaning ‘revelation’. The changes taking place on the Great Barrier Reef and the forests of south eastern Australia are indeed a revelation on the true nature of climate change. It’s a revelation we dare not ignore.

Image: Bleaching coral off Lizard Island, a casualty of the most recent mass bleaching event. Photo by Kristen Brown, courtesy of the ARC Centre of Excellence for Coral Reef Studies.

Who’s the BOS?

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The NSW Biodiversity Offset Scheme (BOS) will now apply to federal development approvals in NSW

By Peter Burnett

Federal environment minister Sussan Ley has announced new arrangements with NSW covering the application of biodiversity offsets under federal environmental impact assessment (EIA) laws. Under these arrangements the NSW Biodiversity Offsets Scheme (BOS) will cover both federal and state requirements and the federal policy on offsets will no longer apply.

Sounds complicated and technical, should we care? Absolutely we should. EIA is the cornerstone of our approach to environmental protection in Australia; offsetting has gone from being rare to common over the last 20 years; and the manner in which state and federal governments coordinate their approach to assessing development is key to effective environmental regulation. Everyone with an interest in protecting the environment should care about this new proposal.

Is this an improvement? Do the feds just want to get out of EIA? With offsets becoming the de facto bottom line in EIA, who’s the BOS now?

It is complicated

EIA is complicated, but doubly so under Australia’s federal system, where federal and state governments have overlapping EIA laws. Governments have been trying for decades to reach agreement on reducing the resulting duplication, but with limited success.

When the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act (EPBC Act) was passed in 1999, one of its big selling points was that it would put an end to EIA duplication through a mechanism known as bilateral agreements, or ‘bilaterals’ for short.

There are two kinds of bilateral. An ‘assessment bilateral’ accredits a state to undertake a single EIA process to inform two approval decisions, one by the Federal environment minister and one by the state.

The more powerful ‘approvals bilateral’ accredits a state to assess and approve developments, without any federal involvement, on the basis that the state system has been accredited as meeting all federal environmental standards under the EPBC Act. The feds tried to go there twice, once under Julia Gillard and once under Tony Abbott, but these ‘one stop shop’ initiatives failed both times.

So we are only talking about assessment bilaterals here.

One of the problems with assessment bilaterals is that they combine two assessments into one but leave two separate approval decisions to be made, applying two sets of policy, including on offsets.

So this latest decision, under which the Commonwealth will apply the NSW BOS instead of its own offsets policy looks like it should streamline decision-making.

And that’s how Minister Ley and her NSW counterparts are selling it, of course. But what about substantive standards on environmental offsets? Does the BOS deliver environmental outcomes as good as, or better than, the federal offsets policy?

How do the two offsets policies compare?

The NSW BOS has some real strengths, especially that it is a statutory scheme administered by a government-controlled trust. This enhances governance by providing consistency, continuity and transparency. It leaves the non-statutory federal policy, which lacks even the basic transparency of a public offsets register, in the shade.

Nevertheless, some environment groups opposed federal endorsement of the BOS. A key concern was that the BOS is aimed at biodiversity generally, rather than at the threatened species and communities protected under the EPBC Act. As a result, it does not have a requirement that offsets address impacts on a ‘like-for-like’ basis, for example to offset an impact on the Eastern Quoll with something that benefits the Eastern Quoll.

NSW addressed this concern by amending its Biodiversity Regulation to impose a like-for-like requirement, but only for impacts on matters protected by the EPBC Act.

Another key concern raised by environment groups is that the BOS typically delivers smaller offsets than the federal policy, especially for species or ecological communities that have a higher threat status (eg, a species listed as critically endangered). The main reason for this difference is that the federal policy, unlike the NSW BOS, uses a discount factor, related to the likelihood of extinction. This discount factor increases the offset quantum as the threat status increases.

Presumably NSW objected to introducing a similar discount factor for federally protected species and communities. So the Commonwealth accepted the NSW position, justifying this with the argument the level of threat ‘would still be considered’ by the Commonwealth ‘as part of the broader regulatory process’.

Despite these soothing words, I think it’s unlikely that the Commonwealth will impose an additional offset in such cases, which arise regularly, because this would undermine the (streamlining) purpose of endorsing the NSW policy in the first place. At best, this caveat provides an escape clause to be invoked in egregious or highly controversial cases.

Different policies in different states?

One effect of Commonwealth endorsing a NSW-specific offsets policy is that this is likely to lead to different outcomes in different states. This is clearly undesirable from an environmental point of view, as ecosystems and bioregions straddle borders. I imagine Minister Ley might agree in principle but defend the difference in outcomes on pragmatic grounds.

The application of different policies also made my lawyer’s antennae twitch. Not only does the the Constitution prohibit the Commonwealth discriminating between states in certain cases, but the EPBC Act itself contains sections that translate these constitutional prohibitions into specific bans.

For example, sections 55 and 56 of the EPBC Act prohibit the environment minister from discriminating between states and parts of states through bilateral agreements in certain circumstances. However, it turns out that neither the Constitutional prohibitions nor the sections of the EPBC Act apply in this specific case, for reasons too complicated to explain here.

So, as undesirable as it might be to have two different policies on the same thing, there is no law against it in this case.

Streamlining or watering down?

In the short term, whether this is a good initiative, a streamlining or a watering down in the interests of putting the states in the driving seat, is a mixed question.

Clearly it will reduce the regulatory impact of overlapping the EIA schemes. And the NSW BOS does have some significant strengths, which the Commonwealth would do well to imitate when it responds to the current review of the EPBC Act.

But it is a worry that the Commonwealth has adopted a policy specifying what is an acceptable biodiversity offset, but then decided that a lower offset is acceptable if the impact occurs in NSW.

In the longer term, however, the more important policy question is not whether an offset is acceptable under a policy, but whether it is sufficient.

This highlights a fundamental weakness of the EPBC Act itself, which is that the Act doesn’t specify any objective standard of environmental sustainability, but leaves it to the environment minister to decide what is ‘acceptable’. Something that is clearly acceptable to a minister may nevertheless fall far short of sufficient.

Hopefully the current review of the EPBC Act led by Professor Graeme Samuel will recommend an approach that sets clear benchmarks for what is sufficient to maintain biodiversity and ecological integrity, and then requires that those benchmarks be met.

Image by Terri Sharp from Pixabay

Entering a no-analogue future

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You’re seeing it happen around you right now

By David Salt

“We have reached a point where many biophysical indicators have clearly moved beyond the bounds of Holocene variability. We are now living in a no-analogue world.”

These are the words of Professor Will Steffen and colleagues from a paper published a few years ago on the trajectory of Planet Earth as it moves into the Anthropocene. These are truly chilling words yet their import is ignored by most people.

Well maybe that’s about to change. As we move deeper into the Covid-19 pandemic, their significance is surely taking on a sharper focus.

Welcome to the Anthropocene

The Anthropocene is a proposal by many scientists of a new geological age in which humanity has become a ‘planetary-scale geological force’. It’s an idea that has been kicking around for the last two decades, and is finding increasing favour across the broad spectrum of academia, from the biophysical sciences to the humanities.

By ‘no-analogue world’, the scientists mean we can’t look at the past to guide our future. The Earth System is now behaving in ways that has no analogue in the past.

For the past 10,000 years, the Earth has behaved in a relatively predictable and stable way, in an age that geologists refer to as the Holocene. Scientists believe that if the Earth System was left alone (ie, if nothing interfered with the way it functioned), that Holocene conditions would continue for another 50,000 years.

However, in the last 10,000 years humans have become the dominant species on this planet and our activities have changed the very composition of the atmosphere, land and ocean – so much so that the Earth System is no longer behaving in the way that it did during the Holocene.

When it was originally proposed, most scientists suggested a good starting point for the Anthropocene was the invention of the steam engine in the late 18th Century as this was when the burning of fossil fuel (at this stage mainly coal) really ramped up powering the burgeoning Industrial Revolution.

More recently, most Earth Systems scientists have revised their idea of when the Anthropocene started. These days they nominate the 1950s and ‘the Great Acceleration’ as a more suitable start date. While the Industrial Revolution was an important antecedent to the forces that brought about the Anthropocene, it wasn’t till the great exponential increase in economic development (what is now referred to as the Great Acceleration) that the human signal began to change the way the Earth System behaves.

Trust in the future

This is a big concept with big consequences. Climate change, for example, is but one manifestation of the impact of the Anthropocene though it’s a lot more besides.

And this idea that we can no longer look at the past to guide our expectations of the future is terrifying if you think it through. Our whole quality of life is based on the belief that we have certainty in the future. It gives us confidence to plan, to invest, indeed to hope.

When disasters hit us, our leaders tell us to not worry, things will return to normal soon. But what does ‘normal’ mean in the Anthropocene?

In the Holocene, ‘normal’ means things will return to how we used to know them. The flood / bushfire / earthquake (whatever) will pass and good (normal) days will return. And then we can get back to business as usual because that’s how it has always happened in the past.

But in the Anthropocene, the past is no longer a good guide to what we can expect in the future.

Sleepers awake

Along with most people who believe in science, I am scared of what the future holds. As a species we are not living sustainably, but ‘business as usual’ trumps all other forms of business. Efforts at reform simply don’t seem to make any difference to accelerating economic growth and the impacts of that growth (be that impact in the form of rising carbon emissions or declining biodiversity).

There’s a profound cognitive dissonance here. The evidence tells us we are headed for trouble. But society keeps on with economic growth because it underpins our quality of life and expectations of an even richer future.

When the Great Barrier Reef underwent an unprecedented mass coral bleaching in 2016 I thought the scale of this disaster, and what it signified, would galvanise a nation-wide response, that it would serve as a wake-up call to our soporific negligence around climate change. But I was sorely disappointed. Many people expressed sadness at the stress the Reef was under, the Government threw a few more dollars at the problem, but life proceeded as normal.

Then there was another mass bleaching in 2017, but this event caused barely a ripple in the broader community – ‘mass bleachings; been there, done that…’

The climate wars continued unabated with claim and counter claim creating a dissonant chorus of fact, ideology and fake news. People switched off, and a party with no climate policy trumped a party with too much climate policy at our national elections in 2019 (less than a year ago, seems like an age ago).

And then came the historic drought and the unprecedented fires of our Black Summer – only just finished.

But before we could catch our breath the world has been plunged into a terrifying pandemic.

No certainty

Suddenly many of the certainties we believed in changed overnight. We lost our jobs, we were told not to travel, all sporting events and entertainment involving more than two people together were cancelled, and everyone is in quarantine.

The future is suddenly a very uncertain place. What we did yesterday is no guide to what we can do tomorrow, and we’re all quite scared.

This is what a no-analogue future looks like; except it’s not in the future, it’s here now.

Many industries (and regional communities) are on their knees because of the coral bleachings, the drought and the mass forest fires. Such disturbances stress society and depress regional economies. We turn a blind eye to these consequences however because we believe there will be recovery of some kind in the future. That’s what has happened in the past.

But the pandemic has shocked us to the core because the certainty of things being the same is no longer there.

Sleepers awake. This is the Anthropocene and we need to engage with what it means.

First indications with our pandemic wake-up call are that we’re still asleep.

There’s been another mass bleaching on the Great Barrier Reef, the third one in five years and more extensive than the last two. The Conference of Parties meeting to discuss the Paris Agreement on carbon emissions has been cancelled suggesting climate change is still not a priority to world leaders. And the rhetoric coming from many industry groups is that governments need to dial back environmental regulations so the economy can get to double speed ASAP as soon as this pesky plague passes.

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

A pathway for the Coalition to improve its climate change act

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Reviewing the 2020 Climate Policy Toolkit

by Peter Burnett

The Climate Change Authority (CCA) has released its latest advice to the Australian Government on how to respond to climate change. It’s contained in a report titled: Prospering in a low-emissions world: An updated climate policy toolkit for Australia.

For a body with three seats out of seven occupied by former Coalition politicians, it’s a bit of a surprise as it favours strong climate action.

Who or What is the CCA?

The CCA was set up by the Gillard Labour government in 2011. The Climate Change Authority Act was one of 18 bills forming the Clean Energy Future package, the centrepiece of which was a carbon price (also known as the ‘carbon tax’). The carbon tax didn’t survive of course, but thanks to Al Gore’s powers of persuasion with Clive Palmer, the CCA Act did. The CCA’s role includes research, and this latest report is released as a ‘research report’.

The CCA has seven members. The chair, Dr Wendy Craig, has headed a number of statutory authorities, including the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park Authority (GBRMPA) and the Murray Darling Basin Authority. While not political, she is trusted by the Government, as seen in her conducting the recent review of the impact of the EPBC Act on agriculture, a review loaded with political sensitivities.

Also a member of the CCA is another former head of GBRMPA, Dr Russell Reichelt.

Most significantly, three members of the Authority are former conservative politicians. Kate Carnell is a former Liberal ACT Chief Minister; John Sharp is a former National Party transport minister and Mark Lewis is a former Liberal agriculture minister in WA.

Finally, Stuart Allinson has an industry background, while the Chief Scientist, Dr Alan Finkel, is a member ex officio.

A updated Climate Policy Toolkit

The CCA produced its original Policy Toolkit report in 2015, at the request of government. This update appears to be unsolicited.

The report presents 35 recommendations about transitioning Australia to a low emissions future. But it does so ‘building on the Government’s current climate change policy settings’.

The Government rejected the CCA’s earlier advice in the lead-up to the Paris Conference in 2015 that it should aim to reduce emissions (on a 2000 baseline) by 40-60% by 2030. It is not surprising then that this report takes the Government’s 26-28% by 2030 emissions-reduction target as a given.

Because governments don’t like taking the tough decisions needed to fix the environment, advisers often stress economic opportunity when serving up unpalatable recommendations. This report is no exception, with Dr Craik declaring in her media release that ‘we need to position our economy for the coming changes in global trade and investment markets and seize on the opportunities before us, or risk being left behind.’

The updated advice

Despite this, there is some good advice in the recommendations. I’ve listed what I think are the highlights below (with my ‘translation’ of what I think they mean):

Develop a long-term climate change strategy that secures Australia’s contribution to the achievement of the temperature goals of the Paris Agreement.
Translation: we should do our bit to stop temperatures rising, not just to meet (inadequate) national targets.

Governments should work together to support industries and communities facing an uncertain future to identify pathways for industries to evolve and remain competitive and to exploit new economic opportunities.
Translation: we don’t really like the Left-oriented phrase, the ‘just transition’, but we agree with the idea of managing the transition to a low carbon economy so that sections of the community are not disadvantaged.

Australia should aim to meet its 2030 Paris Agreement target using emissions reductions achieved between 2021 and 2030.
Translation: don’t claim Kyoto carryover credits.

Develop an international climate strategy to support a strong global response to climate change that minimises physical impacts on Australia and increases international demand for Australia’s emerging low-emissions export industries.
Translation: push other countries to up the ante as it’s in our national interest.

Review and update the 2015 National Climate Resilience and Adaptation Strategy.
Translation: we need to do more in preparing to deal with the impacts of climate change.

In the electricity sector, advance electricity system security; fast-track reforms for integrating large amounts of low- and zero-emissions generation into the electricity market; align bilateral Commonwealth-State energy agreements with AEMOs Integrated System Plan; and increase certainty on the timing of the retirement of ageing coal generators to facilitate timely investment in replacement capacity and storage.
Translation: hurry up and fix energy policy.

Enhance the Safeguard Mechanism to deliver emission reductions from large emitters in industry, with declining baselines with clear trajectories and the ability to trade under- and over- achievement once baselines have commenced declining.
Translation: emissions trading, thou name shall not be spoken, though thy spirit be honoured.

For vehicles with internal combustion engines, reconsider implementing a greenhouse gas emissions standard for light vehicles and undertake a cost-benefit analysis of an emissions standard for heavy vehicles.
Translation: traditional transport can’t be left out of climate policy.

For electric vehicles, minimise barriers to electric vehicle uptake, including by: ensuring adequate infrastructure coverage on highways and in regional areas; considering implications for electricity network tariff reform and fuel excise revenue, and setting targets for electric vehicle adoption in government fleets.
Translation: Time to get serious about electric vehicles, including the tricky topic of new taxes to replace lost fuel excise.

Land use and agriculture activities should continue to be covered by the Emissions Reduction Fund, with credits continuing to be used as offsets for facilities covered by the Safeguard Mechanism.
Translation: Keep buying credits from agriculture until the Safeguard Mechanism above forces industry to buy them instead.

Introduce a Land and Environment Investment Fund (that is, a Clean Energy Finance Corporation (CEFC) for the land), to invest in low-emissions and climate-smart agriculture. Investigate and implement the most effective incentives to encourage the use of emissions-reducing inputs in agriculture.
Translation: Self-explanatory on the Fund. Farmers should be hit with carrots rather than sticks.

Recognise the benefits of a circular economy approach for emissions reductions, ensure the National Waste Policy Action Plan considers industry development, the waste hierarchy, research and development, training and barriers to adoption; and emphasises the creation of industries in regions undergoing transition.
Translation: governments need to drive us much further down the path of reuse and recycling.

Reinvigorate the National Energy Productivity Plan with enhanced ambition and additional resources, including by implementing a National Energy Savings Scheme that builds on existing state and territory energy efficiency schemes; strengthen and extend energy performance standards for appliances and commercial equipment (eg hot water products and pumps, boilers and air compressors); accelerate energy efficiency improvements for buildings.
Translation: energy efficiency has always offered cheap and low-pain options, so get on with it.

Continue to fund the Australian Renewable Energy Agency (ARENA) and consider expanding its remit into other sectors requiring R&D for low-emissions technology or practice. Expand the remit of the Clean Energy Finance Corporation (CEFC) to allow it to invest in emissions reduction technologies in all sectors to help overcome barriers to finance. Restrictions on the scope of the CEFC’s activities, its portfolio mix and the financial instruments it can use should be lifted. The Government should consider making further capital injections in the CEFC to fund this expansion.
Translation: the investment mechanisms that the Abbott government wanted to get rid of have proven very successful and should be expanded.

Together with the major accounting bodies, examine the phasing-in and mandatory reporting of climate-related risks and mainstream climate-related disclosures in companies’ audited financial statements. Assist the finance and investment sector to develop standards and verification processes for green finance products and services.
Translation: the impacts of climate change on business are here. This means getting companies into mandatory reporting but also capitalising as companies are driven by risks and stakeholders to mitigate their climate impacts.

Not a bad package overall

All in all, this is not a bad package, containing some carefully couched hints from a body that includes the Government’s own colleagues, to up the ante on climate, even on ‘no go’ areas like the 2030 targets.

Image: Part of Figure 5 from the report Prospering in a low-emissions world: An updated climate policy toolkit for Australia

A good decision in a time of plague

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Could it be there is no ‘right’ decision, just a good process?

By David Salt

What’s the best decision to make in a time of plague? Close your borders? Isolate your citizenry? Ration supplies? Close schools? Scorch the landscape? (Actually, for our east coast, the forests have already all been scorched and it doesn’t seem to be slowing the rate of infection.)

Of course, versions of all these actions are being applied in different measures here and overseas in the face of COVID-19. We have all been impacted by these decisions and most of us have strong views on which decisions are good and which are bad. Indeed the ‘strength’ of those views is on clear view in the twitterverse and in the mass media, and at times that strength is verging on the hysterical.

I can say from my own family’s experience, we are scared.

There is no perfect

I think most fair minded people would acknowledge that no-one has the perfect solution (or even a near perfect solution). Every option is problematic. Each comes with difficult trade-offs including constraints on personal freedoms, social isolation and reduced access to important goods and services. For some (eg, the wealthy), these trade-offs are inconvenient but they’ll cope. For many they are life changing; and for some they are life threatening.

What’s more, given the complexity of the systems being managed here, there is enormous uncertainty about how different options will actually pan out.

Given all this, surely we should all be more passionate about the process by the which a decision is made rather than it’s ‘rightness’ – because there simply isn’t a ‘correct’ answer. Or, in other words, rightness is actually more about the process of making a decision rather than the decision itself.

Good decision making

What are the ingredients of a good decision-making process in a time of crisis?

Here are a few key elements: the process needs to make use of the best information (and experts) available; it must be transparent, fair and adaptive. Above all, the process needs to be trustworthy.

Trust is not a given, it’s earned. It’s difficult to build and is easily lost. However, if the process is genuinely well informed by the science – and is transparent, fair and adaptive – the trust bank is built on solid foundations and will continue standing regardless of tough operating conditions, setbacks, slip ups and sub-optimal decisions – all of which are a given in a time of plague and mass disruption.

So far our governments haven’t done too badly. They have acknowledged the gravity of the situation, been open about the medical expert advice they have been receiving and how it informs their decisions, and have made some massive resource commitments to bolster the economy and ecology of our society.

Yes our governments (state and federal) have made many slip ups and sub-optimal decisions including slow responses, ambiguous and contradictory messaging, and letting cruise ships unload in Sydney with zero vetting. Yes it’s been messy, and social media has been even more venomous and judgmental than usual. But society is still functioning, riots don’t appear likely and the general public is acknowledging the need for harsh restrictions in the face of an unprecedented threat. (I hate using the word ‘unprecedented’ but it really does apply here. However, every pandemic is unprecedented because each is different. The Spanish Flu pandemic may have been bigger – so far – but it was a different world 100 years ago.)

In any event, while our response hasn’t been perfect, I trust our system and I’d rather be in Australia at the moment than in the US or the UK. The US, in particular, looks to be headed for grief on a massive scale. And they have a leader who says this disturbance will be over in a fortnight.

Transparent, fair and adaptive

For trust to be sustained in our decision making we need to see what it is based on. It needs to be a transparent process. We live in an open society with a free press and a strong set of institutions to validate information and the manner in which the government hand out resources.

Authoritarian governments might find it easier to impose draconian measures to counter a plague but the lack of transparency in such places is also a recipe for a plague to take off. Such was the case with the birth of the COVID-19.

We have a strong belief that government resources should be used for the common good and that the most vulnerable in society are looked after. In a time of plague this is doubly important, something our elected leaders are all too aware of.

The ‘rule of law’ is a particularly important component of being ‘fair’. That is the rules and constraints applied to the community are applied to everyone without fear or favour, something that is ensured by transparency and strong institutions. ‘Exceptionalism’, the practice of making rules for others but believing you are the exception – will simply not be tolerated in a time of plague and politicians caught out doing it are essentially robbing from the trust bank. That’s one reason I’m glad I’m not in the US at the moment. Their leadership has raised exceptionalism to an art form.

Being adaptive – changing your strategy to adapt to changing circumstances – is less often spoken about when it comes to coping with a massive disturbance. I think that’s because our leaders want to convince the population that they have the answers and there is nothing to worry about. I think this was on show during our recent bushfire emergency.

Such hubris is simply unacceptable in a time of plague. Our leaders need to acknowledge the enormous uncertainties facing us and have the humility to say they don’t have the answers and that we all make mistakes. Making mistakes is not a sin, not learning from them is.

This is where a brains trust of experts feeding into a transparent process of decision making is critical.

What decision will we make next week?

Have we done enough to counter this pandemic? Have we gone too far? It’s impossible to say. We’ll probably know in a month.

The only certainty is that more big decisions will need to be made in the coming days, and the situation will change significantly in the coming weeks. None of the decisions our leaders make will be perfect. I accept that. But, for the sake of my family and my society, may those decisions be transparent, fair and adaptive. If they’re not, my trust will wither.

And in a time of plague, trust is everything.

Image: Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay

‘Practical Environmental Restoration’

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The new Government mantra (and more grist from the Estimates’ mill)

By Peter Burnett

The Senate held another round of its regular environmental estimates hearings and, once again, I thought I’d share with you what emerged. As I’ve said in the past, these hearings often contain valuable evidence on Government thinking and action.

The topics covered this time were mostly grist for the mill, but one item really stood out: the Government has become focused on something called ‘practical environmental restoration’? Heard of it? Neither had I.

Practical environmental restoration

The government has a bit of a thing about taking ‘practical’ action when it comes to the environment. This theme emerged as a way of contrasting the Coalition Government’s main climate initiative, the Emissions Reduction Fund, with the complexities of the previous Gillard Government’s carbon price (which Tony Abbott had labelled, confusingly but very successfully, as a tax).

And then there was the Government’s obsessive focus on the second-order environmental issue of plastic pollution while ignoring the first-order issue of climate change because this government is all about practical solutions.

In the last budget, brought down in the lead up to the 2019 election, the Government developed this ‘practical action’ theme further, introducing two new programs, an Environmental Restoration Fund ($100 million over four years) and a Communities Environment Program ($22.6 million in one year only).

Smells like a pork barrel

On the face of it, the Environmental Restoration Fund seems respectable. However, look a little closer one and it takes on the appearance of a pork barrel. With the fund established and an election called, the Government proceeded to make election commitments covering nearly 80% of the fund. According to a non-government Senator, some of the groups nominated as recipients knew nothing about the grants coming their way until contacted by someone from a Coalition Party.

With the government re-elected, these election commitments prevented the Environment Department from giving the standard advice about holding competitive grant rounds. It had no choice but to advise the Government to hold what officials described as a ‘closed, non-competitive’, funding round. This meant that the grant guidelines actually specified the recipients as the groups nominated in the Governments election commitments.

None of this is illegal, because various policy guidelines allow for standard procedures like competitive grant rounds to be overridden by election commitments. The theory is that the Government has a mandate to implement his commitments.

So it’s not a second ‘Sports-Rorts’ affair, with attendant allegations of illegality.

It is, however, a blatant case of pork barrelling, likely to lead to poor policy outcomes because the politicians have specified the grant amount, purpose and recipient without any public service or other expert advice.

With the environment in continual decline and a desperate need for restoration, this is another example of very poor governance.

School yard stuff

And the response of Minister Birmingham, the minister representing the Government at Estimates, to Opposition criticisms of the program? ‘I don’t have to sit here and accept hypocrisy from you. You made similar promises at the election.’

In other words, you are just as bad as us, so we can get away with this. At a time when trust in government is very low and the environment in significant decline, this is school yard stuff and a very sad state of affairs.

The Communities Environment Program is not much better. The fact that the program is limited to one year, immediately following at election, is unusual and strongly suggestive of the program being another pork barrel. The fact that the money is allocated to all MPs ($150,000 per electorate) allowing non-government MPs to access to the pork, is hardly a saving grace.

Again, this is bad policy. Small numbers of piecemeal local grants in a one-off program make no contribution to the big environmental issues that face the national government.

So what does ‘practical environmental restoration’ mean? Pork barrelling, obviously.

Grist for the mill

To finish, some quick ‘grist for the mill’ themes from Estimates:

  • There was the usual manoeuvering in which the Greens asked the Bureau of Meteorology questions designed to elicit strong statements about the severity of climate change, while One Nation asked questions directed to showing that the Bureau was cooking the books.
  • The Opposition was in pursuit of Warren Entsch, the Government’s backbench Reef Envoy: why was he so focused on single use plastics in the marine environment when it is such a small component of marine waste?
  • There were the expected questions concerning the impact of bushfires on threatened species. In short, the Government has convened an expert panel and the Threatened Species Committee is reviewing conservational advice and recovery plans, but it really is too early to have much data from bushfire-affected areas.
  • Opposition and Green senators are still pursuing Minister Angus Taylor’s alleged intervention in a compliance investigation concerning his brother’s farm in southern New South Wales. Officials advised, yet again, that this long-running investigation remains incomplete.
  • Senator Matt Canavan, formerly Resources Minister and now on the back bench, asked about climate change as an issue in environmental assessments under the EPBC Act. He is clearly concerned that an environmental assessment for a large oil and gas project off the coast of WA, requires the proponent to assess the impact (if any) of greenhouse gases (including scope 3 emissions) on features such as the Great Barrier Reef, which lie on the other side of the country.
  • While on the topic of environmental assessments, officials revealed that the Environment Department had received some funding for extra environmental assessment staff under the government ‘congestion-busting’ initiative. This reverses the trend over the last few years of regular staffing reductions in this area. It’s ironic that governments cause the problem through general cuts (the so-called ‘efficiency dividend’, then ‘fix’ the resulting ‘congestion’!
  • Senators pressed the government on it’s electric vehicle strategy, due out in mid 2020, particularly given pre-election comments by the Prime Minister and other ministers about electric vehicles putting an end to the weekend. Perhaps rehearsing the lines that will be used to explain these pre-election comments away when the Government starts to promote electric vehicles in its forthcoming ‘Technology Roadmap’. Minister Birmingham made it clear that the electric vehicle market was ‘obviously one that is adapting in terms of the technical specifications’ and that ‘the electric vehicle strategy will no doubt take into account how those technical specifications are evolving.’

Image: Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

The zero sum game – from biodiversity to emissions

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A game for mugs or a magic pudding that just keeps giving?

By David Salt

Zero net emissions by 2050! It’s the goal proclaimed by many countries around the world*, and it’s aimed at stemming the tide of climate change.

Zero net emissions is the recipe for enabling business as usual (ie, strong economic growth) while supposedly dealing with the externalities resulting from business as usual (ie, civilisation-ending climate change).

And it’s a political winner because governments aren’t targeting specific economic sectors (ie, the fossil fuel industry). Indeed, this far away from 2050, they aren’t being pegged down by too many specifics on how it will be achieved. The generic solution, implicitly and explicitly rolled out everytime, is that technology will save the day.

The magic in the pudding

So where is the magic that drives this ‘zero-net’ proposition? It’s in the ‘net’ bit. This framing means you don’t have to be ‘zero’ in your emissions in any specific activity, like burning coal if that’s what tickles your fancy.

But you do have to be zero in your cumulative effort. If you produce carbon emissions in one area then you need to do something somewhere else that removes that carbon so the cumulative impact (the net effect) is zero.

How do you remove carbon from the atmosphere? The traditional way has been to plant trees or do existing activities in ways that emit less carbon, a good example being using renewable energy instead of fossil fuel energy.

It works as a political solution because it means you don’t have to explicitly say who is going to bear the burden of reducing their emissions. At some point, however, someone, somewhere is going to have to change their behaviour – after all, sustainability bites!

Experience so far with zero sum policy games suggests they are tricky to establish and easy to work around (ie, cheat).

Offset this

What, you weren’t aware of other zero-sum games? They’re actually quite popular and one place where it’s really taking off is in the arena of biodiversity conservation. The name of this specific game is called biodiversity offsetting.

When it comes to any economic activity with impacts on biodiversity there are many rules and regulations to prevent the loss of species and ecosystems.

To begin with, the proposer of a new economic development must demonstrate their proposal isn’t adversely impacting any native species or ecosystems. If it does, the developer is required to state what they will do about it to remove that impact.

Indeed, developers are expected to apply a mitigation hierarchy to their proposal (see the South Australian Government for an example) in which they need to show how they will first:
1. avoid the negative impacts of their development but doing it in a different way. But if there is still impact, they need to then demonstrate how they will
2. minimise the size of the impact of the development; and then
3. restore the area to make up for the impact.

However, if the developer can’t avoid, minimise or restore the impact they create, they can now offset the damage of the development by doing something good for the environment somewhere else. If you clear a stand of native trees over here for a shopping centre, you might offset this impact by planting the same species of tree somewhere nearby.

The aim is to achieve ‘no net loss of biodiversity’ over time. See, it’s a zero-sum policy game.

The trouble is, in many places it’s been seen by developers as a green light for development and has resulted in many perverse outcomes.

A green light for decline?

For starters, many developers don’t even bother with the mitigation hierarchy (because avoiding, minimising and restoring all cost considerable resources and regulators often don’t check to see whether the impact can be mitigated) and jump straight to some form of offset proposal. But proposing offsets for developments are usually quite complex and there’s a lot of research around to show they often don’t actually offset the impacts of the development (in space or time).

In some cases, the development impact is on something that is irreplaceable like the potential loss of threatened species. In these situations it’s impossible to offset the potential loss and the development should be blocked. Instead, the developer is sometimes asked to do something that might be ‘equivalent’ to a direct offset, like contributing money to an education awareness program that may help save the species. Such indirect offsets are not actually offsets at all but they do give cover for economic development to proceed.

The overall outcome is that while there is a goal of no net loss of biodiversity, biodiversity is lost anyway. Around the world we are seeing a mass extinction event taking place and biodiversity offsetting does not seem to be making any difference.

The devil is in the detail

The lesson here is that great care needs to be applied to the establishment of any zero sum policy game. It needs to be transparent, accountable and enforceable. And it cannot be applied merely as cover for business as usual to proceed without any checks and balances.

Economic activity that generates positive carbon emissions (ie, above zero) needs to be accountable for matching these emissions with activities elsewhere that generate negative carbon emissions (ie, activities that remove carbon).

Governments oversee this process and need to establish robust and transparent frameworks that keep track of these activities and their emissions, and report this tracking in a clear and simple way so everyone has faith in the system. To sustain this faith, the monitoring and measurement will need to be independent of government; something along the lines of what Zali Stegall recommended in her climate bill.

A lot of thought will need to go into how you trade emissions across time (eg, savings emissions today to pay for extra emissions in the future) and space (eg, buying emissions savings from another country for an emission heavy activity in our own backyard).

While the law surrounding such net zero policies will be enacted at the national level, it’s likely this game will involve the trading of positive and negative emissions between countries so the net zero frameworks will need to operate with agreed international norms.

The System of Environmental-Economic Accounts is one existing framework that might help with all of these issues.

Maybe net zero emissions is a policy pathway that might engage opposing political forces, something that efforts to date have failed to do. However, to transform the call for zero net emissions by 2050 into workable and effective policy, much effort will need to go into creating intuitions that will hold governments to account and prevent them from fudging the figures.

Image: the cover of the UN Emissions Gap Report for 2019

*According to the UN Emissions Gap Report for 2019, most emissions — 78%— come from the top 20 economies, the G20. Of these, only five had pledged to long-term zero net targets (and this did not include the three big emitters: China, the US and India). Around 70 countries worldwide have made pledges of being carbon neutral by 2050.

Insensible on coal

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Why climate change policy is such a challenge for Australian politics

By Peter Burnett

As I write this, our national Treasurer Josh Frydenberg is mocking his Opposition counterpart as some sort of guru-seeking hippy for daring to suggest that Australia might adopt New Zealand’s idea of a ‘well-being budget’.

This is just the latest example of our very low level of Australian policy debate: the ‘well-being budget’ is a serious attempt to address the well-known limitations of GDP (basically national income) as a measure of ‘progress’. It is particularly relevant to environmental issues and deserves a considered debate. Perhaps I’ll write about it in another blog.

It’s easy to despair over the shallow debate involving the environment, particularly when the state of our environment has started biting us in ways that are, to deploy once again this summer’s most overused word, unprecedented.

Is political agreement on a rational and proportionate environmental policy even possible? I thought I would look at this question by focusing on the troublesome issue of coal and climate change.

A tough challenge even in an ideal policy world

Our quality of life has been built on fossil fuels. In Australia, one fossil fuel in particular, coal, has supported our lifestyle not only by providing most of the energy needed for electricity production, but also by serving as a ‘top three’ export-earner.

So, phasing out coal presents a double policy challenge.

It is common to reflect on the fact that climate change requires concerted global action. Yet it is uncommon to reflect on the system behind the international approach to orchestrating such action.

The underlying problem is one of too many people consuming too much stuff, most of which generates greenhouse gases, one way or another. This is a problem tailor-made for economics, a discipline often defined as the study of efficient allocation of scarce resources.

If we had asked economists rather than diplomats to come up with a solution, they would have told us that getting consumption down to sustainable levels is all a matter of ‘getting the prices right’ and that if ‘stuff’ produces too much greenhouse gas, the answer is to put up the price of ‘stuff’, in proportion to the amount of gas it generates.

In an ideal world, then, we would have ended up with a uniform global carbon tax, with the rate set at just the right level to disincentivise the production of excessive greenhouse gases. Problem solved.

The realpolitik of the Climate Change Convention

However, the real world is not built around economic theory. It’s based on nation states and their absolute sovereignty. International diplomacy is a parliament of equals, but with no overarching government to enforce the rules.

As a result, when countries agree on international action, they tend to do so by agreeing to regulate only what goes on inside their own borders, relying on other countries to implement their own corresponding regulation but usually without any means of making them do so.

With climate change, this system of each nation focusing on their own back yard leads to a system where by countries regulate domestic emissions not just from consumption, but also from production. Mixed models such as this tend to produce anomalies.

For example, resource-rich countries such as Australia are advantaged in comparison to manufacturing countries such as China. Emissions from manufactured goods such as tools and furniture will be counted mostly in the country in which they are produced, increasing export prices if carbon is priced, while emissions from natural resources such as coal are (mostly) accounted for in the country in which they are consumed, with little effect on export prices under a carbon price.

What’s more, if we did reduce coal exports by restricting new mines, any emission reductions would not count towards our international targets. This leaves us with an unbalanced incentive to promote coal mining, but only for export.

Just make the best of it?

Okay, so the model is less than ideal but it is not likely to change. So, despite its flaws, can we extract policy success (ie climate change mitigation) from the existing system?

If we stay focused on the outcomes rather than the inputs, as any good policy should, the answer is a qualified ‘yes’. Under this approach we’d be targeting greenhouse gas reductions and not coal specifically, even though coal is a major source of greenhouse gases.

In the case of coal we would still need to phase-out domestic use, although we could be technology agnostic and pursue emissions reduction generally rather than reduced coal consumption specifically. We would also want to reduce emissions reductions from coal mining, but again the measures could be industry-blind and not directed at mining specifically.

On the other hand, we would not target emissions reduction from coal exports, because these emissions would count towards the targets of our customers rather than ourselves. Nevertheless, because it is essential for the planet that we get out of coal on a global basis, we would need to work towards the adoption of increasingly ambitious targets and regimes internationally.

Success here would have the incidental effect of reducing demand for coal, including our own exports.

Is this feasible?

Even though we wouldn’t be targeting coal or exports, this approach would remain a hard sell domestically. Despite the double policy virtues of good prospects of climate mitigation success and compliance with the letter and spirit of international agreements, the politics would still be tough.

Domestic environment groups have managed to demonise not just the consumption of coal, but its production. They have done this for their own reasons, in part because domestic place-based campaigns are what they do best: the environment movement was built on them.

On the other hand, coal-producing regions would not be appeased just because we weren’t targeting coal directly. We’d still be taking action internationally that would harm the coal industry. Jobs would still be under threat and transition programs would still be needed.

So action on coal, or more accurately, action on emissions including those from coal, is politically feasible, but hardly attractive. The best policy path available barely dents the political risk and pain.

The conundrum with coal is the same as that posed by climate change more generally: would you like a moderate dose of pain now or a much bigger and tougher dose of pain delivered to your children? At this point in time it seems we are happy to pass the burden to our children.

Image: Then Treasurer (now PM) Scott Morrison holds up a chunk of coal in Parliament in 2017. “This is coal,” he said mockingly to the Opposition. “Don’t be scared. It won’t hurt you.”

Dawn of the new normal(?)

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Is this a wakeup call we will heed? Or is it just more false light?

By David Salt

When did climate change arrive in Australia?

Was it when the rising seas swept away the last little native rat (a creature known as a melomys) from a tiny coral cay off the northern tip of Australia around ten years ago? This was reported as the first species extinction directly attributed to climate change.

Or was it Black Saturday, 7 February 2009, when devastating bushfires in Victoria killed 173 people causing everyone to acknowledge that more intense wildfires could no longer be resisted.

Or was it in 2007 when our Prime Minister of the time, Kevin Rudd, declared climate change to be ‘the greatest moral challenge’ of our time (noting he was then displaced by a Prime Minister who claims climate change is ‘absolute crap’).

Or was it this Australian summer, dubbed by our current coal-loving Prime Minister, Scott Morrison, to be our ‘Black Summer’? He then declared that we need to prepare for a ‘new normal’.

Of course, climate change has been impacting Australia for decades*, but it’s only been biting us with real venom in recent years. Unfortunately, rather than stimulate a significant, systematic and meaningful response, climate-change impact so far seems to have only galvanised the culture wars, entrenched the status quo and perpetuated inaction.

Scorched coral

To my mind, the inescapable consequences of ignoring climate change surfaced in the summer of 2016 with the mass coral bleaching of the Great Barrier Reef. It destroyed around a third of the reef’s hard corals. It was then followed but another mass bleaching in 2017 destroying another third. The bleaching was caused by high water temperatures associate with global warming.

Of course, I say ‘inescapable’ because a larger more graphic example of the impacts of climate change would be harder to find; and it was an impact entirely predicted and widely communicated by a broad range of scientists. What’s more, those impacts came with severe economic, social and policy implications (in terms of World Heritage obligations) all of which had me believing this event would actually make a difference. (2016 also saw the massive loss of mangroves and kelp forests but these collapses didn’t carry the same direct human connection. They weren’t as visible, either.)

In the past we’ve discussed the importance of shocks and crises in breaking policy deadlocks. And I really thought the coral bleaching episodes might be a tipping point that might overturn our climate-change inaction. But I was sorely disappointed. Far-right, populist pollies like Pauline Hanson said the reef was in fine form, while holding up a piece of healthy coral from a portion of the reef unaffected by the bleaching; the Government said their policy settings were fine, while government agencies were putting out status reports describing the reef’s outlook as very poor; and fear campaigns on the possibility of losing regional mining jobs in Queensland outweighed concerns for the reef and led to the re-election of a conservative government with no effective policy for climate change.

Rubbing salt into the wounds of my incredulity, the head of the Association of Marine Park Tourism Operators, a guy named Col McKenzie, urged the Federal Government to stop funding marine biologists because their reports on coral bleaching were “harming the tourism industry”.

The summer of 2016 (and 2017) left me somewhat desolate. If the ongoing death of Australia’s most beloved and precious ecosystem wasn’t a sufficiently powerful wake up call, what was?

And then there was the Black Summer of 2019/20

I was sad about the ecological implications of the mass bleaching (and what it portends for the economically important eco-tourism industry of Queensland); but, truth to tell, it didn’t directly affect my quality of life.

The Black Summer of 2019/20, on the other hand, has shaken me to the core. In addition to scorching forests and beaches dear to my heart, it’s trashed the economies of regional towns where I know people; it’s battered the life out of the city in which I reside; indeed it’s poisoned the very air that I breathe. I’m also bracing myself for a set of dramatically increased insurance premiums on policies I’m already struggling to sustain.

All that has happened this past summer has been predicted by our climate scientists and climate workers (such as emergency service agencies). All of this has largely been discounted by our national government for most of the past decade.

But never before have so many Australian’s been hurt by so many climate extremes over such a large area and over such an extended period; nearly 80% of Australians according to a new survey. First it was drought, then wildfire (and smoke), flood, storms and hail.

Summer is almost over (according to the calendar) and it can’t come soon enough. ‘What else could go wrong,’ I asked myself. And, then, last night as I was closing down I spied an emerging story on the news wire – another wave of coral bleaching is hitting the Great Barrier Reef as temperature levels surge above average. Indeed, it could be even more extensive than the 2016/17 episodes.

In the next month we’ll see the extent of this bleaching event but it’s not looking good.

The new normal

In environmental terms, the ‘new normal’ has been with us for over half a century. Earth systems scientists have long been warning that the impact of humans on this planet has pushed our ‘spaceship Earth’ into a new way of behaving. Our activities are now distorting our planet’s very capacity to provide us with the stable habitat we need. Many refer to this as the Anthropocene.

This Black Summer is but a foretaste of the conditions we will need to endure in the summers ahead; summers that will likely be far blacker than this one past.

Our Prime Minister presents this new normal as merely a management issue, a need to organise our response agencies a bit better; so they can act with greater co-ordination if, god forbid, we should ever again see fires as bad as this seasons. He’s called a royal commission and seems to be looking among other things for a recommendation for new laws so that the Federal Government can declare states of emergency, call out the army and so forth without needed a request from the States,

But he’s not questioning our nation’s inadequate carbon emission targets or making any effort to show leadership to address the unsustainable trajectory our species is on. His ‘new normal’, then, is really just a minor iteration on the ‘old normal’. It simply isn’t going to do the job.

A new light of day?

A growing segment of the community is coming to this same conclusion. The student protests of last year, prior to the Black Summer, were suggesting the status quo may be breaking down. And the impact of these recent months may, finally, be the catalyst for genuine action.

And though I was upset over the lack of action following the bleaching events of 2016/17, the ‘truth’ they spoke about what is unfolding around us was heard by many, even those recalcitrant lobbyists for the reef tourism. Col McKenzie was much derided for suggesting marine biologists were the problem (rather than climate change). But he changed his tune. Following that episode he said it is time “to take a more public stance” on climate change.

“It was the bleaching events in 2016-17 that drove the message home,” he said. He added that it was reluctance within his 11-member board – particularly from tour operators who refused to accept ‘man-made’ climate change – that had restricted his own ability to speak out in the past. But those climate-change deniers have largely gone quiet, he said. “They realise it’s bullshit and we can’t be continuing it.”

So if the bleaching events of 2016/17 belatedly convinced this cohort of deniers, maybe there is reason to believe our Black Summer may belatedly raise the nation to action.

*Climate change is not a new phenomenon. Climate deniers will often suggest we don’t know enough or the jury is still out or it’s only an emerging science but the truth is the science has been around for over a century and the evidence confirming it has been conclusive since the 1970s – that’s 50 years ago! For an excellent guide to this history see the very readable ‘Losing Earth: The decade we almost stopped climate change’ in the New York Times.

Image: Bushfire smoke filters the sun in late January 2020. Image by David Salt

A tale of two climate bills

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One is about meaningful reform, the other more about politics

By Peter Burnett

Last month, Zali Stegall released her long-anticipated climate change bill. This month, the Australian Greens released a climate bill of their own. They are quite different pieces of legislation. One is quite solid, I think, while the other is more about politics than meaningful outcomes.

Zali Stegall, of course, is the Independent MP for Warringah. She stood against Tony Abbott, one of Australia’s leading climate change deniers (and former PM), on a platform of introducing meaningful climate change policy; and she won. Her bill has been under development since her election in May 2019. Against the backdrop of Australia’s horror summer, and the resulting rocketing of the environment to the top of the political agenda, it could not have been better timed.

The Greens’ climate bill, on the other hand, looks to me like it might have been drafted in a hurry, for reasons I will explain below.

Given the contrasting approaches of the two bills and the possibility that a Parliamentary committee might end up looking at both, it’s instructive to consider what they contain.

The Stegall Bill

The full title of Stegall’s bill is Climate Change (National Framework for Adaptation and Mitigation) Bill 2020. As the title suggests, the bill establishes a framework for climate policy leaving it up to the government to develop climate mitigation programs that meet the targets set by the framework.

The bill would legislate a target of net zero emissions by 2050 and establish an independent Climate Change Commission, tasked with preparing a national National Climate Risk Assessment every five years. In response, the Government must prepare a national adaptation plan, together with five-year national emissions budgets and emissions reduction plans to meet those budgets.

Space doesn’t allow a more detailed examination, but you get the drift: the Bill sets the overarching target, while the independent Commission looks after the framework and keeps an eye on the Government. The Government’s job is to develop and implement detailed plans to meet the targets. If both parties do their job properly, national emissions follow a trajectory down to net zero 2050 while inflicting the least possible pain.

The Greens’ Bill

By contrast, the Greens’ bill has a much narrower focus. It’s full title is the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Amendment (Climate Trigger) Bill 2020, and it seeks to amend parts of the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999 (EPBC Act) to introduce a climate ‘trigger’ for ‘emissions-intensive actions’; specifically land clearing, drilling exploration and mining (with the capacity to add others later by regulation).

The EPBC Act has nine triggers, for example one for threatened species and one for large coal and gas projects affecting water resources. The basic idea is that if a trigger is, well, triggered, by a development proposal, the development can’t go ahead unless it has been the subject of an environmental impact assessment (EIA) and a decision by the environment minister as to whether the project can go ahead, and if so, on what conditions.

In short, the Greens’ bill extends existing environmental regulation to land clearing and mining projects in order to reduce their climate impacts.

Two bills compared

Stegall’s bill is impressive. Although she was able to draw heavily on overseas precedents, the bill is well drafted and specific to Australian law and circumstances. It is complete to every last detail, including administrative matters like pay-and-leave entitlements for the Commission’s CEO.

I know Stegall is a lawyer and probably had lots of free expert advice. Nevertheless, she’s a first term Independent MP, with no party colleagues or resources to draw on. Yet she has produced a bill that is just as good as one that might have been produced by the Government with the full resources of the public service.

The Greens bill on the other hand is disappointing. The Greens have been around for a long time and have a much greater depth of resources available to them. Yet the bill is narrow, doing little more than bringing two major categories of development into an existing regulatory net, one which leaves it almost entirely to the environment minister to decide what, if any, emissions-reducing conditions to impose.

Even within this narrow scope, the bill doesn’t seem to have been well thought through.

A mining or land clearing project will only trigger an EIA if its emissions would likely have a ‘significant impact’ on the environment. Under the EPBC act, the environment is defined in wide terms. And ‘significant impact’ is not defined. Greenhouse gas emissions do not have a direct impact on living things; they have an indirect impact in that they change the climate and it is the changed climate which has an adverse impact on the animals and plants.

Finally, the Act doesn’t regulate cumulative emissions, which means that a decision about whether a project triggers the Act only considers the project in isolation.

When you take these factors together, it means that the emissions from a single project, such as a proposed mine, may not be ‘significant’ under the act unless they are so great as to change the climate, by themselves, something that would only occur with an enormous project.

As a result, I think there is a good argument that the Greens’ climate trigger would never operate.

The politics and the process from here

It’s important to emphasise that Stegall’s bill has not been introduced in parliament. Rather, Ms Stegall has simply released it by public announcement. A key reason for doing this is that the government controls the numbers in the House of Representatives, where Ms Stegall is a member. It is very unlikely that the Government will ever allow her to introduce the bill formally, because this would cause the government to lose control of the climate change debate (more than it already has).

Significantly, the bill is supported by Rebecca Sharkey of the Centre Alliance Party, which also has members in the Senate. One scenario is that, once it becomes clear that the Government will not allow the Stegall bill to be introduced in the House of Representatives, Centre Alliance may introduce it in the Senate, which the Government does not control.

Once introduced, a bill can be referred to committee, which provides a good platform for public hearings and a committee report to keep public debate on the boil.

This may be where the Greens bill comes in. Rather than have a first-time Independent MP steal their thunder, perhaps the Greens foresaw this scenario and want to have their own bill that can be referred to committee as well. This way they would not be left dancing to someone else’s tune.

Outside Parliament, the temperatures will be dropping as we head towards winter. Inside, it’s likely that the Stegall bill will warm up the Winter Sittings one way or another, whether under my scenario or another. If that’s the case, let’s hope the deliberations produce some light as well as heat.

Image by enriquelopezgarre from Pixabay

Conversations with the devil

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Polarisation and tribalism are short circuiting society’s capacity to reason, trust and recover

By David Salt

So I was sitting there having a chat over coffee with some colleagues and the conversation turned to bushfires, as it often does these days. This chat, however, turned unexpectedly fiery.

As it happens, one of my coffee colleagues is a leading researcher on the value of hazard-reduction burning and property protection. He’s carried out multiple analyses on what variables are important in the risk houses face when a catastrophic fire hits. His results have been peer reviewed and consistently point out the same thing.

The research has found that the four most important variables critical to house loss when big bush fires strike are (in order of importance): the weather, the amount of woody vegetation close to houses, proximity to large blocks of native vegetation and, last and of least importance, hazard-reduction burning close to houses (with hazard burning undertaken further away not having any significant influence). This is consistent with a growing body of evidence that hazard burning is a tool of limited value when it comes to protecting people and property.

So far, so good. We often disagree with each other but we’re usually in concord about the ‘facts’ (and open to hearing each other’s points of view).

Interjection

Then this older gentleman sitting a few seats away from us butts in saying what’s really needed to beat these fires is just getting in there with big machinery and clearing away the native vegetation, opening up fire trails and getting the fire fighters into the forests before the fire gets away. That’s what they’ve done in the United States, he said, and that’s what we should have been done here in Australia! It’s outrageous, he exclaimed, how we’ve allowed this situation to get so out of hand.

We were a bit taken aback by this guy’s uninvited interjection. We asked him where he was getting his information. The United States, we pointed out, was experiencing its own wildfire catastrophes; the evidence clearly shows hazard reduction has limited value; and when a fire starts in the middle of a forest (often by lightning strike) there’s no way fire fighters can get in and contain it before it gets out of control. To even try would be putting their lives at danger.

Well, contesting his ideas did not please this man at all. He said we were talking rubbish prompting one of us to walk off commenting “”I cannot stand such ignorance.”

The interjector then threw down his newspaper (The Australian) and accused us of getting all our information from The Guardian, and that we didn’t know what we were talking about – and then he stalked off as well.

What a buzzkill. We were all left feeling quite flat.

Your tribe wrong

From our perspective, the man was a nosy fool taking his information from the Murdoch press and accepting the denialist cant that the fires are simply a management problem that could be fixed with greater resolve. It’s a line echoing government rhetoric as they grapple with the unravelling implications of climate change.

From his perspective, I expect he thought we were a pack of big talking, know-nothing latte sippers (for the record, none of us were sipping lattes but we do like a good coffee).

Our conversation angered him, he threw his beliefs at us, we acted angrily, challenged his ‘facts’, and he stormed off. Nothing changed, no-one questioned their own tribe’s truth; if anything both parties probably hardened their position.

The thing is this minor, relatively inconsequential altercation is reflective of the broader debate currently infecting our society. Fuelled by fake news, hyper connectivity, prejudice and powerful vested interests, reasoned debate is impossible, polarisation and tribalism rule. We don’t trust anyone outside of our own tribe and we begin with an assumption that the other side is wrong.

I fervently believe the ‘other side’ in this little example was wrong, that the evidence supports my world view; but I did nothing to bring the tribes together, to explore the basis of the beliefs on both sides.

Not only did I think he was wrong, I also didn’t believe talking to him was going to change his opinion (or that his ‘facts’ would change mine).

A world on fire

It seems insane to me after the fire season we have endured that we’re even having the political debates we’re witnessing: that we can’t discuss climate change while the fires burn; it’s the greens fault; it’s all because we don’t do enough hazard reduction burning; these fires are not unprecedented; and the nation needs cheap reliable coal-powered generation; all entwined in the overarching lie – we are doing our bit when it comes to emission targets.

But the consequences of this tribal insanity are dire. First and foremost is the withering of trust. We don’t trust the other tribe or the information it’s producing, and the other tribe doesn’t trust us.

And we don’t trust our leaders because all too often they appear to be speaking from the other tribe, and completely disavowing my tribe.

Our Prime Minister speaks of the importance of building adaptation and resilience, but I don’t trust him. Adaptation is important but mitigation and moving to a carbon-free economy has to happen at the same time, but that would involve them taking on the denialist tribes which he doesn’t seem able to do.

Resilience is equally pointless when the government won’t even spell out what they mean. The bedrock of resilient communities is trust and other forms of social capital. It’s all about bringing people and communities together. The government seems more intent on dividing us and throws fuel on the fires of our hyper-partisanship.

Devil may care

When the devil whispers to us he plays on our prejudice and tells us the other side can’t be trusted. We will not follow our leaders because we do not trust them, and we will not listen to anyone but our own tribe. And then, when we are tested, our strength is divided and our resolve weak.

And then the devil wins.

The fires have served as a wakeup call for some and yet there have also been reports of political focus groups finding that many ordinary Australians are responding to the fires by entrenching their positions. There’s research backing this up showing fires and extreme weather do not change climate skeptics into believers. But drawing back into our tribes is not helping the situation.

There’s a real challenge here. How do we stop the compounding of a natural disaster with a human disaster of more polarisation? How do we nurture a more civil and productive discourse in our democracy?

A good start might involve a chat with our neighbours about how the fires affected them and what they think we should do? Or inviting that interjector into your coffee conversation and engaging with how he or she sees things. It’s only by understanding another person’s frame of reference that we can possibly hope to influence them.

Image: South Coast fire ground (Photo by David Salt)

By all accounts, can we manage to save biodiversity?

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Environmental accounting could be the key to saving nature

By Peter Burnett

It’s 2020, and the world is again discussing targets to save biodiversity. The approach hasn’t been very successful in the past and many are throwing up their hands in despair in the face of a rapidly unfolding biodiversity catastrophe. Could environmental accounting be the missing link in our thinking?

In an earlier blog I described the short history of environmental accounting and highlighted its potential. This was more than just extending the traditional (economic) national accounts to cover the environment, which was the original idea (especially to make GDP a much more accurate measure of economic performance by subtracting losses of ‘natural capital’). Governments could also use environmental accounting to manage the environment.

In another blog I wrote about key meetings to be held this year in Kunming, China, under the Convention on Biological Diversity (CoP 15, CBD, and preparatory meetings). The aim is to develop a new 10-year international plan to replace the Aichi targets that have operated for the last decade.

Given the significance of 2020 internationally (and our extreme bushfires in Australia putting nature at the top of the agenda domestically) it seemed to me like a good time to come back to what role environmental accounting might play in saving biodiversity.

Aim for net positive outcomes

Conservation scientists have been questioning the value of biodiversity targets and the way they are applied for some time. Most recently, this call was made in Nature Ecology & Evolution by Joseph Bull and colleagues. They argue that policy must shift away from conservation targets that are based just on avoiding biodiversity losses, towards considering net outcomes for biodiversity.

This would involve tracking the cumulative net impact of both development and conservation, while aiming for an overarching objective such as ‘a positive outcome for nature’. It would be bringing things like restoration and offsets into the equation.

In effect, the argument is to take the mitigation hierarchy, the ‘avoid, mitigate, offset’ approach most often associated with individual development approvals, and apply it at a global level. Yet Bull et al go even further, arguing that this language of net outcomes raises an even wider aspiration for tackling biodiversity loss, climate change and human development together.

This latter argument is similar to the one made by Malgorzata Blicharska and colleagues, that biodiversity supports sustainable development and the 2030 Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) in many ways (‘Biodiversity’s contributions to sustainable development‘).

Also in a similar vein, Charlie Gardner and colleagues have argued that attention to biodiversity loss has been eclipsed by the climate crisis, and that conservationists must capitalise on the opportunities presented by the climate crisis to establish the idea that keeping ecosystems intact is one of the most cost-effective defences against climate impacts (‘conservation must capitalise on climates moment‘).

These recent articles suggest to me that there’s a growing realisation that the coming decade is not just the last chance to halt climate change, but also the last chance to address the ‘sixth great extinction’, before they get away from us completely. Hitching the two together might increase the chances of at least some success.

Biodiversity and sustainability: the accounting connection

If we were to turn ‘avoid, mitigate, offset’ into an overarching approach, one of the challenges identified by Bull et al was that the resulting need to measure net outcomes would require a plurality of metrics for measuring losses and gains to biodiversity.

With several colleagues, I responded by pointing out that environmental accounting, standardised globally in the System of Environmental-Economic Accounts (SEEA), already does this well (our Nature Ecology & Evolution paper is titled ‘Measuring net-positive outcomes for nature using accounting’). All that is needed is for governments to make it happen.

A key but often misunderstood point is that although environmental accounts are often, like conventional accounts, kept in monetary terms, it is just as valid to keep them in physical terms such as population numbers and measures of condition. Environmental accounts could, for example, measure a variety of biodiversity-relevant attributes such as species occurrence, distribution, abundance and age-sex structure of populations.

In contrast to financial accounting, there is no need to consolidate these different accounts into a single ‘bottom line’ unless this would be both feasible and meaningful.

In other words, if you are counting echidnas and platypii, there is no need to aggregate these into a single ‘monotreme account’ unless this is a useful thing to do. While a single bottom line is always ideal (which prompts economists to push hard for it) it is by no means the only solution.

In an ecological context, it could be just as useful to take all the accounts relevant to a particular ecosystem, which might include our echidna and platypus accounts, and ask whether the bottom line of each and every account exceeds a predetermined measure of ecosystem health. If they do, then the collective ‘bottom line’ for the ecosystem is ‘in the black’. If only some do, the ones below the measure point to the management intervention needed.

Why accounts?

Why bother using accounts? Why not just do a census or a stocktake, or ongoing monitoring? The answer lies in the problem being solved. Environmental accounts are not kept by scientists for research, but by a new and specialised form of accountant for management purposes.

Importantly for governance, environmental accounts that comply with the SEEA are consistent and auditable. This facilitates transparency and, where appropriate, comparisons.

Further, because accounts don’t just contain entries but record transactions, they reveal something about when and why something occurred, and who it was connected with. For example, a reduction in a species population due to approved land clearing would reveal not only the quantum but the date and party undertaking the clearing.

In a comprehensive set of accounts this action would be reveal not only the loss of natural capital, but the corresponding loss of ecosystem services.

All of these attributes contribute to good decision-making. Environmental accounting may not have been invented as a management tool, but serendipity has delivered this as a bonus.

The capacity of environmental accounts to be used in environmental management has been demonstrated in some case studies but not in a general and ongoing manner. Ideally it would be nice to scale up slowly but we don’t have the luxury of time.

If we are to manage, by all accounts, to save biodiversity, it might be because environmental accounting was a key part of the decisions taken at Kunming.

Image by Terri Sharp from Pixabay

On ‘resilience’ as a panacea for disaster

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When the going gets tough, the government hides behind resilience

By David Salt

Have you noticed that when the chips are down, and I mean really down, our political leaders frequently invoke ‘resilience’ as the thing that’s most important? We’ve seen it following massive floods, devastating cyclones and, most recently, in response to the bushfire catastrophe (that continues to unfold as I write).

What’s this about?

In my time I’ve written a bit on resilience. While I think resilience science can offer many insights on the challenges that currently beset us, I don’t see its current deployment as anything more than a strategy of obfuscation and displacement, the strategy you roll out when you don’t actually have a plan.

When a massive disturbance overwhelms a country’s capacity to continue with ‘business as usual’, governments do their best to reassure the community that everything will be alright, even though they are often impotent in the face of that crisis.

When that flood wipes out critical infrastructure, for example, it’s often apparent that despite the government’s grand claims, it can’t make the rain stop or move people and emergency services to where they are needed. And when that happens, they often fall back by saying: ‘we’ll get over this, we are resilient.’

Or when the fires are so extensive, as we are witnessing now, and whole communication networks and the road system goes down (and everyone is on edge while choking on endless smoke), we know there is only so much the government can do, but we want reassurance that it’ll all be right. And what is the Prime Minister telling us our priorities should be? “That resilience and adaptation need an even greater focus,” he said.

We are resilient

What’s the attraction in invoking resilience? From a political point of view, I think it’s twofold.

The first relates to our belief of the ‘rightness’ of the system we are in. Yes a fire/drought/flood might knock us down but we are ‘good, hard working people that care for each other’. We may be knocked down but our inherent qualities will help us triumph over adversity, get us back on our feet and prosper.

You’ll hear this refrain time and again following disasters from political leaders at every level, from the town mayor to the prime minister, each crafting their message of resilience to their own group of people, reassuring them that they are ‘right’, they are ‘good’ and ‘they’ll get over it’.

Consider Premier Anna Bligh’s now famous statement following the unprecedented Queensland floods in 2011: “We are Queenslanders,” she told the public. “We’re the people that they breed tough north of the border. We’re the ones that they knock down and we get up again.”

That’s the basic definition of ‘resilience’, it’s all about how we cope with disturbance, and we like to think there’s something inherently right and good about our system (municipality/state/country) that will enable us to triumph. ‘We are Queenslanders/Victorians/south coasters/insert place name here, and we are tough…’

Politically speaking that’s exactly the ‘we-are-righteous-and-shall-overcome’ message that a government wants to convey to the electorate so invoking ‘resilience’ is an attractive notion; especially when it’s clear there’s not much they can actually do.

The second attraction for invoking ‘resilience’ is that everyone has their own idea of what it means and it’s impossible to measure in a precise manner. Consequently, it’s an ambiguous goal that is easy to hide behind while avoiding accountability.

So far, our Prime Minister’s invocation of resilience seems more about avoiding talk on emissions targets and climate change policy than any genuine engagement with the idea.

The new ‘sustainability’?

The idea of ‘sustainability’ has similar weaknesses (or strengths, depending on your perspective and degree of cynicism) to resilience but sustainability (and sustainable development) have been around for longer as a policy goal. Having been seriously worked on for at least the past 40 years, sustainability has had a lot of time and energy spent on working out how it might be operationalised.

‘Sustainability’ was also a ‘made up’ word to embody efforts to respond to the damaging effects of unbounded economic growth. In this way, sustainability had meanings loaded into it. ‘Resilience’, on the other hand, is a real word that now labels many different approaches to managing systems (people, families, communities, cities, nations and ecosystems to name a few) to help them overcome disturbance. People have their own idea what it is to be resilient.

All models (or framings) are wrong but some are useful (to paraphrase George Box). Sustainability, with all of its shortcomings, enabled national and international conversations to take place around the connections between the economy, society and the environment. It also allowed notions of equity and justice to be incorporated into our thinking. And, while it’s still a work in progress, the sustainability project is still an important and potentially critical element of our species ongoing survival.

Many faces of resilience

Resilience too has many weaknesses as a strategy and policy goal. For starters, what resilience approach are you talking about? It has separate origins and applications from many disciplinary areas with the disciplines of psychology, emergency relief, engineering and ecology being the main four fields from which it has emerged. Each considers resilience at a different scale and with a different purpose though all are concerned with how the systems we are interested in cope with disturbance.

The value of resilience is that it is a systems approach that engages with the complexity of the system of our interest (for example, in psychology that’s individual people, for ecology that’s social-ecological systems).

When I use the term resilience science I’m talking about ecological resilience, the topic I have helped write two text books on. It’s a rich body of research and academic discussion that has revealed much about how linked systems of nature and people endure over time coping with a range of disturbances. It’s all about thresholds and tipping points, linked scales, adaptive cycles and transformation.

To really make a difference with resilience science you need to honestly engage with the complexity of the system of your interest. You need to respect those people with expert knowledge on how it functions, maintain healthy buffers of economic, environmental and social capital, and work within the limits of your system rather than ignoring them. (These are themes I will explore in future blogs.)

Unfortunately, when governments invoke resilience they use it as cover to continue doing whatever it is their vested interests dictate (which seems in Australia at the moment the continued support for more coal mining). They usually spin resilience as a magic bullet that solves a multitude of problems without ever being accountable for what it is they are specifically attempting to achieve.

And isn’t that the perfect escape for a government – ‘because of this fire/flood/drought we are down but we are not out. We are resilient and we shall triumph come what may.’

Image: Epicormic regrowth from bark of Eucalypt, four months after Black Saturday bushfires, Strathewen, Victoria, in 2009. (Photo by Robert Kerton, CSIRO. Creative Commons 3.0.)

Now is the summer of our discontent

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I want this summer to be over and I want our government to do something

By Peter Burnett

I’ve never seen a summer like it. If fire, smoke, dust and drought weren’t enough, Canberra has just been rocked by a ferocious storm. Most of the inner city has been clobbered by big hail and I reckon it’s another record breaking weather event.

This time, I’ve felt the impact first hand. I’ve just been down looking at my car, parked at the ANU. The front and rear windows are broken, the back one shattered letting hailstones into the car. The front windscreen is spider-webbed with cracks, dropping glass fragments onto the driver’s seat. The car is covered in dents and several plastic components have been broken off. The reversing sensors are now dangling by their connecting wires from the rear bumper.

I tried contacting my insurance company but their help line was jammed. Based on the news I’m hearing, hundreds and possibly thousands of other people are similarly impacted, so that’s no surprise.

Raining cats and dogs, and then leaves and branches

The day began well; pleasant, warm and sunny. Such a relief after the debilitating heat and acrid smoke.

But then the storms swept in, with the rain following quickly. At first it was just heavy rain, but then came the wind and the hail. Some said the approaching hail sounded like a freight train. Others reported hearing a ‘chittering’ like a swarm of ravenous locusts.

The wind was strong and the hail large, but what really struck me was the dense fall of leaves and small branches being stripped off the trees by the hail. I think this what the ‘chittering’ people heard.

I’ve never seen anything like it. The grass under the large oak tree in the courtyard has disappeared under a carpet of leaves and twigs, while the canopy looked as if it had had a haircut, looking noticeably denuded.

As the rain eased I went downstairs to take some photos of the hail. Then I noticed a car with a broken window, then two, three and more.

Farewell to my trusty wagon …

For some reason I thought my car would be undamaged, but as I approached it I realised not only that my car was damaged but that the car wasn’t drivable and was probably a write off. I’m upset about this. The car is 10 years old and due for replacement but I was quite attached to it. It’s been good to me.

More importantly, I’m on a buyer’s strike and had sworn to wait for an electric car in my category and price range. I’m probably two years early for such a purchase.

Funnily enough, I had considered really stretching the finances to buy a Tesla Model 3. This storm, however, has given me pause for thought. The roof on this model of Tesla is made entirely of glass. And glass, I suddenly realised, is not a great material in a climate of extreme hail storms. I wonder how all the solar panels fared?

I’m lucky, but I still want action

I don’t want to make too much of this incident (or pretend to be a martyr). I didn’t lose my home or business and everyone I know is safe – though everyone I speak to was either impacted (literally) or knows someone who was. My car is probably a write-off but I was safe inside a building and the car’s insured. Others are doing it much tougher.

The point is that this storm is just one more weather event linked, if indirectly, to climate, that is wearing the community down. Apart from all the suffering in the bushfire disasters, in the last few days there have been one-in-a-hundred year storms causing flash flooding on the Gold Coast and fast-moving dust storms in western NSW. These dust storms are so thick, according to the ABC, ‘that it went completely dark’.

Despite being one of the lucky ones, I’m sick of this summer, and it’s far from over yet. I’ve probably just lost my car. Because there’s been so much bushfire smoke and record-breaking heat we didn’t make the usual Christmas trip to visit family and I haven’t been able to do the daily commute on my bike.

I’m asthmatic, which calls for extra precautions. The asthma’s been ok, but I’ve been profoundly unsettled by the smoke at its thickest, especially around New Year when the sky was nicotine yellow at times. And I’ve had some bouts of cabin fever from spending extra time inside.

I know the government can’t fix this in the short term but like many Australians, I want them to acknowledge the problem and at the very least engage with it.

Governments over the last quarter century have failed us on the environment. They all share in the responsibility but there’s only one government in power and I want action.

I know that things will get much worse unless there’s dramatic, global, action. Australia is well-placed to be a lifter in such action; but instead we are leaners, claiming special exemptions.

What will they think of next? Nothing, probably.

So what will the government do? In the short term, they’ve done some straight-forward things, calling out the Army and splashing a lot of cash.

And in the long term, to deal with the complexities of climate change? Nothing new it seems. Our Paris targets are unchanged and Australia is ‘open for business’ (with our PM throwing $76 million at a new campaign telling the world this is the case.

This summer will be over in a few weeks but I suspect the discontent will continue to build. I certainly hope it does: something has to give, and I don’t want it to be us!

Image: My trusty white wagon, consigned to the scrap heap in a couple of minutes. (Photo by Peter Burnett)

Five lies that stain the nation’s soul

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What really burns me up about our climate denialism

By David Salt

As I wipe the tears from my smoke-stung eyes and choke down the bile rising from my indignation, I ask myself why the angst? A large part of it is the remorseless lying we get day after day from our national government on climate change. It’s the big lies and small lies, the obfuscations, distractions and falsehoods that come at such volume that we start to distrust everything we hear; which I feel sure is part of the government’s strategy.

Multiple media players and experts attempt to filter the truth from the falsehood but it just keeps coming regardless.

For me, there are five overarching lies that subsume all the smaller falsehoods. And those five are:

1. We are guided by the science
2. We are doing our bit when it comes to climate change
3. We are good neighbours (to Pacific nations)
4. We are a responsible international player
5. Our children should be optimistic about their future

1. We are guided by the science

This is one of the most oft repeated lies the government gives us day after day. It’s a claim completely repudiated by its actions when it comes to climate change, environmental science and sustainability in general. The scientific consensus is crystal clear on what the problem is and the appropriate solution. Yet the government ignores the evidence, cherry picks data to suit its own narrative, constantly throws out red herrings to give it cover, and disparages climate science in general (all the while claiming they are ‘guided by the science’).

But this lie extends beyond climate science to expert knowledge in general. They ignored repeated pleas from retired emergency managers for greater action in the lead up to the current fire catastrophe. And they ignored the economic consensus that has been around for years on the need for a price on carbon (this government reversed the ‘carbon tax’, the only policy that appears to have had any measure of success in curbing Australia’s carbon emissions).

The government claims it is guided by the science, that their policy is evidence based, but they lie. And in many ways all the deceit that follows is based on this foundational deception.

2. We are doing our bit when it comes to climate change

The government’s target of a reduction of 26-28% in carbon emissions (below 2005 levels by 2030) is not ‘Australia doing our bit’. It is not based on evidence, science or equity. It is one of the weakest targets amongst developed countries, is not aligned to what the science says is necessary to tackle climate change (the government’s own Climate Change Authority recommended a minimum of 45% reduction in carbon emissions by 2030, the government’s response was an attempt to abolish the Authority and, failing that, ignore it), and the target not proportionate to the size of our population or economy. Our Prime Minister claims it is “credible, fair, responsible and achievable” yet all the evidence suggests the exact opposite.

3. We are good neighbours (to Pacific nations)

We ignore the evidence and refuse to even shoulder our fair share of the burden. Then we happily preach to the members of the Pacific Islands Forum that everything is okay and Australia is a great neighbour. To prove it, we throw $500 million in their direction (taken from the existing aid budget) so they can invest in “renewable energy, climate change and resilience in the Pacific”.

Keep in mind these are our neighbours. Unlike us, they haven’t contributed any carbon emissions to speak of, they haven’t enjoyed the benefits of economic growth but they are faced with existential threats arising from climate change caused by that growth.

We disregarded their fears and did our best to stop the Islands Forum from releasing a communique including references to phasing out coal and limiting global heating to 1.5 degrees.

4. We are a responsible international player

Having repudiated our neighbours our Prime Minister then visited the UN to tell the world what a great job we’re doing when it comes to climate change; both overhyping what we were actually doing while underplaying our culpability. He also did his best to distract everyone’s attention by talking up our efforts on plastics in the ocean, as if it were a problem of the same order as climate change.

Another constantly repeated note in our siren song of denial is that we’re but a small part of the problem emitting a paltry 1.3% of global emissions. He never then acknowledges that 1.3% coming from only 0.3% of the world’s population is actually a shocking record making us the highest emitter per capita in the developed world and one of the world’s top 20 polluting countries.

But it’s not enough to deny our responsibilities and mislead on our effort to this global cause, we have also gone out of our way to thwart efforts to curb global carbon emissions. At a UN conference on climate targets in Madrid only weeks ago Australia was accused of ‘cheating’ and blocking efforts to reach a consensus on how to make the Paris agreements on emissions work. ““The conference fell victim to the base positions of a handful of major polluting countries, Australia included,” a former Australian diplomat was quoted as saying.

So, it’s not enough that Australia is rated as the worst-performing country on climate change policy out of 57 countries, a new report prepared by international think tanks also criticises the Morrison government for being a ‘regressive force’ internationally.

We bully our neighbouring nations in local forums and then snuggle up to the world’s biggest climate change bullies (in this case the US and Brazil) on the international stage.

5. Our children should be optimistic about their future

After lecturing the world on how great Australia was in terms of its climate action at the UN in September, our Prime Minister then rebuked younger Australians for taking time off school to protest his climate inaction. He suggested Australian kids needed to be given more

“context and perspective” on the issue because, he says, “I don’t want our children to have anxieties about these issues.” He said it was important Australian children were confident they would live in a “wonderful country and pristine environment”.

Well, that ‘pristine environment’ is now being engulfed in flames, communities are in despair and everyone is scared of a future in which we can only expect worse. What context and perspective is he talking about? And how is it possible for our children to be optimistic about their future when their present is in chaos and our national leaders won’t even engage with the real problem. They may be young but they’re not stupid.

Many many lies

Yes I get angry at most of the other deceptions foisted on us daily by this denialist government, this farrago of lies. I get upset when they blame a lack of hazard reduction burning as the real problem behind the fires, that they claim their policies are protecting the Great Barrier Reef or that this Coalition Government is responsible for the enormous investment in renewable energy. They are all dissembling untruths with strong evidence revealing what the real situation is.

But overarching these untruths are the five deceptions I have discussed here. We ignore the science and the expertise on climate change, we are not doing our fair share in addressing this challenge, we are poor neighbours and wretched global partners; and in doing all this we are destroying the hope of upcoming generations.

There are no easy solutions, no silver bullets; this is a wicked problem. But we cannot redeem our nation’s soul in regards to climate change until we honestly acknowledge the nature of this challenge and get real with our response.

2020 hindsight – insights on government thinking from 20 years ago

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1998 and 1999 were important years for environmental policy in Australia

By Peter Burnett

As policy researcher, I love New Year’s Day. Not because it’s a public holiday but because it’s when the National Archives of Australia release government records, including Cabinet papers, from several decades earlier. Documents used to be released after 30 years but, under a Rudd Government reform, this is being reduced progressively to 20 years. And this is great for anyone seeking deeper insights into how policies are conceived and developed.

This year Archives released documents from 1998 and 1999. I’ve been looking at the Cabinet submissions and decisions from these two years to see what environmental issues were preoccupying the first and second Howard Cabinets (there was an election in 1998).

At least, I’ve been looking at the ones that are available. Even though there are only a few hundred cabinet documents prepared each year, and their annual release is of significant media interest, Archives actually only release the ones that their history adviser regards as newsworthy. Most of the others are available on application, but you have to wait, sometimes for many months, for these files to be ‘examined’, to decide whether they contain any exempt material, usually related to national security.

The need to apply for files and then wait for some months has limited what I can write about one of the major issues, as you’ll see below. Such are the frustrations of anyone seeking insight from the official records.

What were the issues in 1998–99?

The final years of last century were very important for environmental policy, nationally and around the world.

Internationally the Kyoto Protocol had been concluded at the end of the previous year, with Australia securing a special deal, sometimes called the Australia Clause. This allowed us to increase our emissions by 8% on 1990 levels in the coming decade, when other developed countries had committed to a 5% reduction.

We had based our case on the principle of ‘common but differentiated responsibilities’, a principle developed originally to accommodate the circumstances of developing countries. We argued that this should apply to us because of our population growth and fossil fuel-intensive economy. (Which, of course, has great relevance in current debates on whether Australia is pulling its weight on climate change.)

Domestically, the Government was busy rolling out the first tranche of spending under the Natural Heritage Trust, which had been funded through the partial sale of the national telecommunications utility, Telstra. It was also in the midst of reforming national environmental law, tabling the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation (EPBC) Bill, later passed in 1999 as the EPBC Act (now up for its second decadal review).

While all this was important, top of the Government’s reform agenda was the introduction of a goods and services tax (GST). This reform would deliver unexpected, possibly even accidental, environmental benefits (as I discuss below).

Winning our emissions bargain

As you might expect in the immediate aftermath of the Kyoto climate meeting, the environmental issue taking most of Cabinet’s attention was whether to ratify the protocol, and its implications for domestic policy.

Having been worried in the lead up to Kyoto that Australia’s hard line might lead to diplomatic isolation, the Government could rest easy. Australia’s tough negotiating stance had been very successful and the three ministers with climate responsibilities were able to report that the Kyoto agreement had met all of Australia’s primary objectives. (I once heard that Environment Minister Robert Hill was applauded when he entered the Cabinet room on return from Kyoto.)

They advised Cabinet that the 108% target represented a cut to business-as-usual growth of 30%, which was ‘comparable to the average for industrialised countries as a whole’. Another important achievement was international agreement that emissions from land use change and forestry (now known as Land Use, Land Use Change and Forestry, or LULUCF) would be treated much the same as other anthropogenic emissions. This was important for Australia because much of our target would be obtained through a reduction in emissions from a reduction in land clearing.

Even though Kyoto was done, the climate change caravan kept on rolling. Australia also had to settle its position for the fourth Conference of the Parties to the Climate Change Convention (COP 4 – we’ve just had COP 25).

The interesting point in our position was that we decided to push for the widest possible and most flexible international emissions trading scheme. This did not come from any government convictions about the efficacy of emissions trading, but simply to keep our options open: the US had estimated that they might meet up to 75% of their emissions task by purchasing international permits, reducing compliance costs by something between 60 and 90%!

Domestically, Cabinet agreed to update the National Greenhouse Strategy (‘National’ indicating that the States were parties) in light of Kyoto, but without allocating extra money. This was because the Government had already announced a $180 million package in the lead-up to Kyoto.

But nothing on the EPBC Act

To my surprise, there was no Cabinet submission on the EPBC Bill. I find it hard to believe that Environment Minister Robert Hill got such a major reform through without a stand-alone Cabinet submission, but I double-checked and Archives does not list any submission related to this reform beyond an earlier authority to negotiate an EPBC precursor, what became the 1997 COAG Heads of Agreement on Roles and Responsibilities for the Environment. This was the document by which the States endorsed Hill’s set of ‘Matters of National Environmental Significance’.

So I’ve requested access to some related files to dig deeper. Watch this space: I’ll report what I find.

Show me the money

There were a number of submissions relating to environmental spending. Most are no longer interesting but there was one interesting money story.

In 1999 the Government persuaded the Australian Democrats to support the introduction of the Goods and Services Tax (GST) by funding a new environmental package, known as Measures for a Better Environment. This package included some significant reforms designed to reduce transport emissions and greenhouse gases.

Some reforms were vehicle-based, including incentives for buses and trucks to shift to CNG and LPG, while others were fuels- based, including a commitment to develop national fuel standards. There were also rebates for installing solar panels and increased support for the commercialisation of renewable energy.

I heard an interesting story recently that suggests that the strength of this package might have been fortuitous. Apparently Prime Minister John Howard asked Treasurer Peter Costello how much they should be prepared to spend on such initiatives. ‘About 400’ was the reply. Howard duly offered $400m. It seems Costello was thinking $400,000.

Could it be that this is how we get significant environmental reform? Through horse-trading or accident?

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

Positioning ‘The Environment’

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A new year sees a new department for The Environment – What’s in a name?

By David Salt

As we grind to the end of a difficult year in terms of environmental decline and crisis, it’s worth noting the Prime Minister’s recent announcement of a shake-up of the public service. Eighteen departments are to be reorganised into 14 mega departments on the grounds of improving efficiency and service delivery (though the details have not been made public and there is considerable skepticism on the value of these changes). Given our ongoing fire crisis, endless heatwave, mass fish kills and growing extinction list, a more responsive and effective Department of the Environment is to be hoped for. But rather than making The Environment a higher priority, this latest reorganisation appears to be signalling the exact opposite.

From DSEWPaC to DoE

Government departments are always changing names as governments reorganise the public service’s structure, roles and responsibilities to suit their agenda. Each change is a good reflection of the priorities of the group in charge.

Prior to the current conservative group (the Liberal National Coalition) coming to power, The Environment fell under the umbrella of the Department of Sustainability, Environment, Water, Population and Communities or DSEWPaC.

It was a bit of a grab bag of issues but it signalled that ‘sustainability’ was a high priority for the Labor Government of the time, and that sustainability had strong connections across multiple sectors such as water and population. This reflected the growing consensus that has emerged in recent decades that sustainability needed to be integrated across sectors if it was to make a difference.

‘Climate Change’, the key sustainability issue of our times, had its own department, reflecting the political priority the Labor party had placed on climate change (and some believe this structure placed climate change closer to the central economic ministers/agencies). Prime Minister Rudd had, after all, declared climate change the great moral issue of our times (but then reneged on his pledge to do something about it).

On the outer

And then the conservatives stormed to power in 2013 under Tony Abbott and ‘sustainability’ was an orphan in search of a patron. SEWPaC became simply the Department of the Environment, and the Department of Climate Change was subsumed into it. Environmental budgets were cut and ‘The Environment’ was clearly on the outer.

Where possible, the government avoided talking about climate change or biodiversity, and the idea of sustainability was simply code for how do we get more efficient (and fuel even greater economic growth).

A few years into the conservative rule, the Department of the Environment also took on responsibility for ‘Energy’ And, even though Malcolm Turnbull put the Environment first in the department title (it was now the Department of the Environment and Energy), no-one was under any illusion as to which sector called the shots.

The Environment part of the department laboured on with ever decreasing resources while the government undertook several reviews on how environmental checks could be streamlined in order to enable economic development to grow unimpeded.

The Department of AWE

And now we have the latest reorganisation – The Environment Department is now being subsumed into the Department of Agriculture along with water to become The Department of Agriculture, Water and the Environment (or DAWE).

I think it would be safe to say, given the Coalition Government’s track record, that this new mega Department of AWE will place the protection of environmental values a distant third behind ramping up agricultural productivity and maximising the economic return on our troubled water resources.

As one example of that track record, earlier this year the Government ran a review on green tape and how environmental constraints (in the form of our national environmental law, the EPBC Act) might be lifted from farmers. Ninety percent of all land clearing in Australia is for agriculture and yet this review found that only 2.7% of the 6000 referrals considered under the EPBC Act have been for agriculture. In other words, the overwhelming majority of federal environmental regulation doesn’t even touch our farmers and still they complain and want even less constraint placed on them.

Well, now The Environment is truly back in its box and the new Department of AWE will likely ensure that’s where it remains (while this government is in charge, anyway).

Priorities and mental models

And this reveals a tragic reversal of the central tenet of ecological economics, that our society and economy are a subset of The Environment. Rather, this latest reorganisation suggests that The Environment is a subset of the economy and reflects the conservative catch cry that we’ll look after The Environment once we’ve fixed the economy.

As our farms, houses, suburbs, businesses, national parks and endangered species are all going up in flames, the lunacy of this ideology has never been so apparent. Our environment is failing and, as it does, it is bringing down the economy with it.

This is not the time to turn our backs on The Environment or see it as a marginal add on to our economy. And yet this is exactly what our Government seems intent on doing.

Will next year be a big one for biodiversity?

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The Post-2020 Biodiversity Framework: From Aichi 2010 to Kunming 2020

By Peter Burnett

Next year might be a big year for biodiversity. At least, I would like to think so. In February, almost every nation on the planet is meeting in Kunming, China, to discuss how well they are doing at conserving biodiversity. Which is just as well as earlier this year the UN issued its latest report suggesting we are witnessing an biodiversity catastrophe with a million species threatened with extinction.

The upcoming event in Kunming is a meeting of the nations (parties) which signed up to the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD). That’s 196 nations, almost everyone except the USA*. The February meeting is in preparation for the 15th Conference of the Parties (or COP 15) to be held in October.

‘COP’ is an arcane diplomatic acronym that is, unfortunately, entering the mainstream as the annual climate COPs held under the Climate Change Convention become increasingly desperate for real progress as time runs out.

COP this for biodiversity

But I digress. For the CBD, the main task of COP 15 is to adopt a new ten-year strategic plan for biodiversity. The current ten year plan, known as the Strategic Plan for Biodiversity 2011-2020 and which includes a set of ‘Aichi Biodiversity Targets’, is about to expire. With 2020 looming it’s time for a new plan and targets. These have the working title of the ‘Post-2020 Biodiversity Framework’.

But let’s not be too hasty to move on. What were the Aichi Targets and will Australia meet them?

I’ve had a quick look at key targets and Australia’s progress. These are discussed below. Progress can be hard to gauge though. The usual scarcity of information is made even worse by the fact that Australia’s Sixth CBD National Report is nearly 12 months overdue, which in itself suggests this task is a low priority for the Australian Government.

Each of the 20 Aichi Targets falls under one of five strategic goals:

Goal A: Mainstreaming

Strategic goal A deals with the ‘mainstreaming’ of biodiversity. This term may sound contemporary, but it’s pretty much a rehash of the concept of ‘policy integration’ from the 1987 Brundtland report, which gave birth to the concept of sustainable development and to the 1992 Earth Summit in Rio, the meeting at which the CBD was born also.

Targets for mainstreaming include the insertion of biodiversity into national plans of various kinds. This includes Target 2, which talks of extending national accounting and reporting systems to address biodiversity.

Superficially, Australia’s environment ministers look to be on the ball in regards to this target. They have agreed on a national plan in 2018 to develop environmental-economic accounts. In reality, this is a small drop in the bucket and it comes more than 25 years after Australian government first agreed on the potential of ‘proper resource accounting’, and nearly 50 years after Barry Commoner proposed as the first law of ecology, that ‘everything is connected to everything else’.**

Accounting aside, we haven’t even attempted national baseline monitoring of biodiversity, decades after governments first committed to it, so even if we designed a good set of accounts we’d be short of data with which to populate them.

Goal B: Reducing pressures and promoting sustainable use

Goal B deals with reducing direct pressures and promoting sustainable use. Key targets under this goal include halving the rate of habitat loss; making farming and fishing sustainable; and minimising the pressures on coral reefs, to maintain their integrity and functioning.

In Australia we haven’t even reduced habitat loss, let alone halved it. And while fishing is one area where we score reasonably well, we haven’t done nearly so well with farming and our attempts to reduce pressures on the Great Barrier Reef have made no discernible impact. On the contrary, the authority responsible for the Reef has downgraded its outlook from ‘poor’ to ‘very poor’.

Goal C: Safeguarding biodiversity

This goal deals with safeguarding ecosystems, species and genetic diversity; traditionally, these three components are used to measure biodiversity. The targets contained in this goal include having 17% of terrestrial areas and 10% of marine areas in ecologically representative and well-connected protected areas (ie, 17% of Australia’s land within a protected area and 10% of our sea).

This goal also includes the highly ambitious aim of improving the conservation status of our threatened species (as well as halting their extinction).

When Australia gets around to submitting its Sixth National Report, we’ll no doubt blow our trumpet about meeting the percentage targets for protected areas, but we won’t have gone close to the ensuring that they are representative and well-connected, at least on land.

And we can’t even measure a turnaround in the conservation status of threatened species, except at the very coarse level of counting new and changed listings. Even at this coarse level, things have declined rather than improved.

Goal D: Enhancing benefits to people

The aim of Goal D is to enhance the benefits to people from biodiversity and ecosystem services, including by restoring and safeguarding ecosystems that provide essential services such as water.

A recent positive example from Australia is the Victorian Government’s decision to phase out logging of native forests. This decision was influenced in part by a 2017 study led by ANU academic Heather Keith and based on a specially-prepared set of environmental-economic accounts.

The study revealed that native forests would provide greater benefits through the ecosystem services of carbon sequestration, water yield, habitat provisioning and recreational amenity if harvesting for timber production ceased and forests were allowed to grow to older ages.

Goal E: Better planning, knowledge

Finally, Goal E is concerned with enhancing implementation through planning, knowledge management and capacity-building. The Aichi targets under this goal include showing respect for traditional knowledge and encouraging the full participation of Indigenous communities in biodiversity conservation and use.

I’m not aware of much progress in Australia in this area, but the emphasis given to Indigenous knowledge and participation in a recent discussion paper on the review of Australia’s national environmental law [link: https://epbcactreview.environment.gov.au ]did make me wonder whether the Government might have some appetite for improvement in this area.

A colleague in Indigenous studies commented that with the Government having appointed Australia’s first Indigenous minister for Indigenous Affairs, but not keen on implementing proposals to recognise Indigenous Australians in the nation’s Constitution (see the Uluru ‘Statement from the Heart’, they might be keen to deliver some reforms here to avoid leaving their minister with a thin record of achievement. I think he might be right.

Beyond Aichi: what can we expect from the ‘Yunnan Targets’?

So for Australia at least, the limited evidence suggests a weak record of achievement under the Aichi targets.

Chances are that many other countries will find themselves in a similar position. Yet experience also suggests that countries will also be too embarrassed to simply sideline biodiversity targets as too hard.

The path of least resistance would be to say ‘we’ll do better next time’ and adopt a set of ‘Yunnan Targets’*** for 2030. There is likely to also be some discussion on aligning the Yunnan Targets with the 2030 Sustainable Development Goals. In diplomacy, if you can’t win the war, the next best option is to simply declare victory and charge on …

* The USA isn’t a member because President George Bush (senior) wouldn’t sign and his successor, Bill Clinton, couldn’t get ratification through the US Senate.

** Barry Commoner, The Closing Circle (Random House, 1971).

*** Targets are normally named after the region in which they were drawn up. The Aichi Targets were drawn up in the Japanese city of Nagoya, which is in the province of Aichi. The Yunnan Targets will be drawn up in the city of Kunming, which lies in the Chinese province of Yunnan.

But we’re only a tiny part of the problem!

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The bankrupt philosophy underpinning the Morrison Doctrine

By David Salt

Seven suited powerbrokers sit in an air-conditioned board room discussing the morality of their business. Unfortunately, for them, their bank has been caught putting profits before people in manner which breaks the law and deemed morally repugnant. What are they to do?

David Pope, one of Australia’s leading political cartoonists, imagined what might have gone on in that boardroom. He suggested in his daily cartoon (in The Canberra Times, 24 November 2019) that maybe they could hide behind the argument of relativity: that their bank’s illegal money transactions were just a tiny fraction of the global total and that doing something different wouldn’t change the “child exploitation climate in the Philippines one jot”.

Of course, Pope was using the Westpac debacle to throw a light on the Australian Government’s hypocrisy in relation to our nation’s carbon emissions, something that is quite unmissable because he labelled this cartoon ‘the Morrison Doctrine’. That’s because Prime Minister Morrison used pretty much the same argument in defending his party’s approach to climate change. He said:

“Climate change is a global phenomenon and we’re doing our bit as part of the response to climate change – we’re taking action on climate change. But I think to suggest that at just 1.3% of emissions, that Australia doing something more or less would change the fire outcome this season – I don’t think that stands up to any credible scientific evidence at all.”
Prime Minister Scott Morrison*, in The Guardian

To paraphrase, the Morrison Doctrine says that our ‘sin’ is but a small part of the overall ‘sin’ and doing something about our sin wouldn’t make much difference to the global total. The unstated part of this train of logic is: therefore, we needn’t bother because doing something will cost us.

The Morrison Doctrine: Image by David Pope, courtesy of The Canberra Times

The Doctrine fails for some sins

Pope’s cartoon is a fabulous parody of our Prime Minister’s defence and it’s worthy of reflection on several levels.

First, the Morrison Doctrine didn’t work for Westpac. The bank’s CEO at the time, was reported to have told staff that mainstream Australians were not overly concerned about what had happened.

“This is not a major issue,” he said. “So, we don’t need to overcook this.”

But, as it turned out, he was dead wrong. Mainstream Australia was appalled at the behaviour of Westpac and within days our political leaders had sensed this and joined in with the mob calling for heads to roll.

Prime Minister Scott Morrison said “these are some very disturbing transactions involving despicable behaviour”. Attorney-General Christian Porter said “this is as serious as it ever gets”, while Home Affairs Minister Peter Dutton accused Westpac of giving “a free pass to paedophiles!”

Westpac’s share price plummeted, its CEO resigned and its Chairman brought forward his retirement.

So, in the case or Westpac and the Morrison Doctrine, ‘our little sin’ did count. Not doing anything (or much) was simply unacceptable and believing otherwise was a hanging offence.

But the Doctrine works for the Government

I think the reason the Pope cartoon stuck with me is because of the many questions raised by Westpac’s corporate failure compared to our government’s failure on climate change. The big question is: Why is the Westpac sin seen as an unacceptable moral failure (for which the board must be held accountable) when no-one is held accountable for the policy failure on limiting carbon emissions?

There are many answers to this: the Westpac failure was well documented and the lines of accountability crystal clear; whereas the climate failure is global in scale, complex and it’s very challenging to hold individual people, institutions or governments directly accountable.

The Westpac failure followed on shortly after the Banking Royal Commission which exposed the corrupt heart beating behind so many bank practices so the broader community was already sensitised (and outraged) by corporate malpractice. The Westpac malpractice gave us a target to vent our sense of injustice on.

And the Westpac failure indirectly involved possible sex trafficking and exploitation of children, a moral crime deemed unacceptable by society; whereas conservative governments everywhere are framing climate change as an economic issue and doing their best to discount the moral consequences of inaction. Former Prime Minister Tony Abbott, for example, summed it up best at the Liberal’s recent electoral victory when he said “Where climate change is a moral issue we Liberals do it tough. Where climate change is an economic issue, as tonight shows, we do very, very well.”

A tiny part of the problem (?)

But maybe the reason Pope’s cartoon got me thinking so much was because it played on one of the central articles of the climate denialist’s cant: that humans have only added a little to the greenhouse gases in the atmosphere which in themselves are only trace gases. A little on a little surely can’t be the problem the scientists are saying, can it (and definitely not something worth sacrificing economic growth for)?

Well, it depends. The science says it matters enormously. The science says little changes to the atmosphere fundamentally shifts the Earth system. However, setting aside the scientific consensus, a little sin might be completely unacceptable when it involves transgressing community norms like the sex trafficking of children.

But this ‘little sin’ of economic growth heedless of the consequences is drowning the little children of low lying Pacific islands? It’s also destroying the livelihoods of all those families that depend on the ongoing health of the Great Barrier Reef? This little sin is pushing the climate to the point where it undermines our food security.

“There has to be some understanding of accountability for when these things happen.” These aren’t my words, they are Scott Morrison’s but he was referring to the Westpac failure, not his own on climate change.

*Australia’s little bit: whenever anyone says to you Australia is pulling its weight in producing only 1.3% of global emissions (as our PM constantly does) politely point out at only 0.3% of the global population we are the highest per capita emitters in the developed world.

Main image: Image by cinelina from Pixabay

Announcing ‘Australia’s Strategy for Nature’

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The strategy you have when you have to have a strategy (without actually having one)

By Peter Burnett

In November 2019 Australia’s federal and state environment ministers signed off on a new national biodiversity strategy. Under the title Australia’s Strategy for Nature, it replaces the previous strategy, Australia’s Biodiversity Conservation Strategy 2010–2030 (the 2010 Strategy), even though the 2010 strategy had more than 10 years to run.

The new strategy comes with its own shiny new website, Australia’s Nature Hub, and it reads pretty well. But here’s the kicker: the new strategy doesn’t actually contain any strategies (ie means to achieving ends).

And there’s no new money or programs to support it, although the new website does serve as an aggregator for existing strategies and programs from various governments. As we’ll see below, the implication seems to be that if you think we need to do more to halt biodiversity decline, do it yourself!

It’s a ‘compliance model’

So what’s going on? If the new strategy were a car, it would be a ‘compliance model’, a car that manufacturers produce in limited numbers to comply with a regulatory requirement to sell ‘zero emission’ vehicles.

The best known example of a compliance car was the EV1, an electric car that General Motors produced in America in the late 1990s. Instead of selling the car to customers, GM leased it to them; once the leases expired it recalled the cars and sent them to the crusher.*

In this case, the requirement generating a compliance mentality is Article 6 of the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD). Australia joined the CBD, along with most other countries, soon after it was opened for signature in 1992. Article 6 requires each member country to ‘develop national strategies … for the conservation and sustainable use of biological diversity’.

Australia’s history with biodiversity strategies

Australia had started work on a national biodiversity strategy even before the CBD was signed. In fact, in his 1989 Environment Statement, Our Country, Our Future, Prime Minister Hawke made commitments, not just to develop a national biodiversity strategy, but for Australia to play a leading role in what would become the CBD. In marketing terms, we weren’t just ‘early adopters’ in biodiversity policy, we were ‘innovators’.

As they say in the classics, it’s been all downhill from there. The strategy was ready in 1993 but languished when it proved difficult to get the states on board. It was eventually adopted by all Australian governments in 1995, under the title National Strategy for the Conservation of Australia’s Biological Diversity. It’s most significant measures were a national commitment to undertake bioregional planning and a target of arresting and reversing the decline of native vegetation by 2000. The strategy also had major flaws, setting the unfortunate precedent of being adopted without new resourcing, on the basis that many of its measures fell within the scope of existing programs.

There was a change of government federally soon after the strategy was adopted and incoming environment minister Robert Hill worked hard, but with limited success, to give it life. He included provisions for bioregional planning in Australia’s new national environmental law, the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999, but these have barely been used. Later, following a five year review of the strategy, he would develop ‘national objectives and targets’, including an objective of halting land clearing, and seek to incorporate these into bilateral agreements with states under the National Heritage Trust, a major funding program. Despite some success, state resistance was ultimately too great to deliver much of significance.

In 2009 another environment minister, Peter Garrett, succeeded in getting a new strategy (the 2010 strategy) endorsed, including 10 ambitious national targets for 2015. In their foreword to the 2010 strategy, ministers noted that despite much effort, biodiversity continued to decline and, as a result, ‘we need to take immediate and sustained action to conserve biodiversity.’

In fact, the problem was so serious that ‘business as usual is no longer an option’. Despite these strong words, most of the 2015 targets were not met (or could not be measured) and I suspect this was the real reason why environment ministers decided to replace the 2010 strategy early: to make the strong language and unmeasurable targets disappear.

A ‘zero emissions vehicle’ for the wrong reasons

Now governments are taking a new tack. Strong warnings and ambitious targets have been replaced by an exhortation that we all work together. The new strategy is sold as an ‘overarching framework’ and is said not only to ‘set the framework for local, state/territory and federal government actions’, but also to ‘help those outside government identify where they can contribute to support national areas of focus’.

I see this as code for ‘all care but no responsibility’: government will identify the problem and the point to both solutions and ways to measure progress, but without specifying any actual strategies in the document. As a result, if ‘those outside government’ (ie, you and me) want to halt the relentless decline of biodiversity it Australia, we will have to do it ourselves, as none of our governments have seen the need to announce any new measures to support this new ‘strategy’.

The only conclusion to be drawn is that Australia’s Nature Strategy has been produced only to comply with the CBD. It’s a ‘compliance model’ and if I were its owner I’d follow GM’s recipe by recalling it and sending it to the crusher. The difference is that I would be doing this, not because its success threatens business, but because its likely failure threatens business (and everything else that depends on biodiversity). This is a ‘zero emissions vehicle’, not because it is propelled by the latest technology, but because it only works if self-propelled. Fred Flintstone would feel right at home in it.

*Killing the electric car: if you’d like to know more about the EV1, it was the subject of a 2006 documentary, Who Killed the Electric Car?

Image by David Zapata from Pixabay

The script that burns us

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But what lies beneath our inability to engage with catastrophic fire

By David Salt

The fire emergency is over; for today, anyway. The drought, however, shows no sign of breaking and it promises to be a long, hot, fiery summer. Summer hasn’t even officially started for goodness sake but everyone is scared, frustrated and not a little angry; though who should bear the brunt of this anger depends on who you ask.

We’re scared by the science, by the forecasts and our own experience of recent summers telling us that things are changing for the worse. We’re frustrated because our political leaders are wasting their energy on obfuscation and political fights rather than seeking real engagement with the issue. They fortify their walls of denial rather than build bridges of consensus on a way forward.

There’s been a lot of media commentary on the fatuous point scoring and sniping of recent weeks as our political leaders attempted to shift the focus (and blame) in the face of catastrophic fires. Lives, houses and habitat were scorched, but our leaders seemed more concerned in blaming the other side.

We’ve seen it all before and, tragically, we’ll see it all again, and possibly very soon. I don’t just mean more catastrophic fires. We’ll see the exact same arguments erupt with the next emergency, and the one following that. And, as night follows day, the war of words we’ve just seen was also completely predictable.

The script

So, what’s the script? When the fires return and get out of our control, tearing apart life and certainty, observers will say climate change is multiplying the stress and we need to act on the fire and climate change. Then the government will say we can’t worry about climate change till the emergency is dealt with. The greens (with most scientists onside but not entering the fray) will say this is outrageous and the government will then attempt to shout down anyone trying to extend the debate beyond the immediate emergency.

At some point, as the damage from the fire is measured, some political leader (usually from the conservatives) will inevitably blame the scale of the disaster on inadequate hazard reduction burning that should have taken place before the fires took off. They’ll blame inadequate preparation (from the government authorities) as well as too much influence from green-leaning, inner-city yuppies.

Much media attention has been given to this script in recent weeks, and each of the details it contains has been raked over in some detail. Rather than repeat that analysis* I’d like to consider what lies beneath these arguments and ask whether we are doomed to simply see them repeated into the future.

The ideology

Why can’t our conservative government acknowledge climate change is real, present and an existential threat? It’s a question that has bugged me for many years.

Yes, climate denial serves vested interests, fossil fuels being key. Yes, changing the status quo is always a challenge. But I’ve always felt to generate and sustain the level of comprehensive denial we’ve seen propagated in recent years that you needed an underlying idea that trumps all other considerations.

For me, that idea is that climate change is an existential threat to the ideology of free market fundamentalism (and Libertarianism). If we as a society acknowledge the clear and present danger of climate change (and the need for a deep and systemic response) then we are also acknowledging the need for bigger government and for greater constraints on our personal freedoms (in order to tackle climate change, including more taxes and higher prices to pay for mitigation).

This was the theme of my first blog in Sustainability Bites (A ‘good’ reason to deny climate change) and my conviction on this point has only grown. I won’t elaborate more on this, read it yourself if you’re interested. However, I reckon the script of denialism is never going to change until we appreciate the bedrock of ideology it emanates from.

Dominion

The second part of the script on hazard reduction burning relates to the belief that humans are in control, it’s our God-given right. The destruction resulting from catastrophic fires is because we simply aren’t exerting that control.

Instead, the argument goes, we’re pandering to conservationist (green) cliques, declaring too many national parks, preventing management from whipping the landscape into a more amenable (and safe) shape. Our folly, according to this set of beliefs, allows fuel levels to build and catastrophic fires are the inevitable result.

This ideology fundamentally ignores the nature of the complex adaptive systems, the social-ecological systems of which we are a part. We can control bits of these systems but we are not in control (though we would like to think that we are). No amount of hazard-reduction burning will deliver us from catastrophic fires but it’s the refrain our leaders fall back on as the ashes cool.

It’s a similar response from those wanting more dams to drought proof us. In both cases it’s a partial solution to a complex problem that is probably impossible to implement and wouldn’t fix the problem anyway. But it gives our leaders something to say, a fig leaf of intent to cover their impotence and denial.

Future replay

Given their deep ideological roots, I believe it’s inevitable the fire script will simply be replayed during future fire events. But maybe the growing dissatisfaction over our leaders’ inability to respond to the context of the fires will overwhelm its denial. The levels of outrage over recent weeks I think have surprised many.

Or maybe we’ll simply endure the government’s intransigence and vote them out at the next election (noting we failed to do this last time). Unfortunately, while we wait, listening to pitiful tune the Government is playing, Rome is burning.

By the way, did you hear the latest news? The World Meteorological Organisation has just released figures on greenhouse gases in 2018 and it makes grim reading. There is no sign of a slowdown, let alone a decline, in greenhouse gas emissions (despite all the commitments under the Paris agreement on climate change).

*Analysing the current fire emergency: If you want to see an excellent-science based discussion on the connection between climate change and catastrophic fires see Drought and climate change were the kindling, and now the east coast is ablaze or Australia bushfires factcheck: are this year’s fires unprecedented?. For an equally solid analysis of the pros and cons of hazard reduction burning, see Controlled burns often fail to slow a bushfire. There’s no question our Government is on the wrong side of science (and history) in their framing of the ongoing bushfire emergency.

Image by Julie Clarke from Pixabay

Supplementary Environmental Estimates

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More questions, a few answers and an unwelcome appearance by Dorothy Dix

By Peter Burnett

Senate Estimates are potentially an important process throwing light and meaning on government expenditure and process. Unfortunately, over the years it’s become a bit of a political circus with all parties doing their best to score political points by squeezing answers from unwilling public servants, who in turn try to avoid being drawn into the politics by giving very flat ‘dull-as-dishwater’ and ‘nothing-to-see-here’ answers.

The main Estimates examination of the Department of the Environment occurred in October (and was the topic of my last blog). But there was a follow up; in early November the Estimates Committee held a supplementary hearing on environmental matters.

This doesn’t happen very often, but one circumstance in which it does occur is when an issue has ‘legs’ (ie, is of topical interest) and Senators are in hot pursuit. This was one such occasion, so it’s worth a look.

‘Nothing to see here’

The Senators were pursuing more information on several controversial and well-reported matters on which they no doubt feel they have the Government well and truly on the back foot:

  • Minister Angus Taylor’s letter to Clover Moore, Lord Mayor of Sydney, concerning the climate impacts of the Council’s allegedly excessive travel expenditure
  • allegations of inappropriate interference by Minister Angus Taylor in compliance action under national environmental law concerning endangered ecological grassland communities in the Monaro region (the ‘Jam Land’ case);
  • the associated review by Dr Wendy Craik into interactions between the EPBC Act and the agriculture sector, said by some to have been initiated to appease angry farmers;
  • a letter from retired fire chiefs to the Prime Minister seeking a meeting to discuss their concerns about the increasing frequency and severity of fires as a result of climate change; and
  • the $443m grant made by the Turnbull Government to the Great Barrier Reef Foundation, a private body, and, now, whether the grant was motivated by a desire to avoid the Reef being given a ‘World Heritage in Danger’ listing.

The transcript on what transpired is here if you want to take a look.

None of the responses to questions on these issues revealed anything of great note. Most were to the effect that officers had followed standard bureaucratic processes and either were not privy to, or in the case of the Reef grant, were prevented by Cabinet confidentiality from revealing, anything nefarious that may or may not have been done by the Government.

The most that can be said about the answers is that they show first, that the Government appointed Craik without asking the Environment Department for the usual list of potential appointees; and second that they replaced the Department’s standard flat answer to Clover Moore with a letter of their own. Both of these things tend only to confirm the obvious, that these were purely political decisions rather than standard government decisions on advice.

A new participant at Estimates: Dorothy Dix

One thing that did concern me was the response of officials to a question from Senator McMahon, a government member from the Northern Territory, concerning the recent endorsement by Federal and State environment ministers of Australia’s new national biodiversity strategy, known as ‘Australia’s Strategy for Nature’. This strategy replaces Australia’s Biodiversity Conservation Strategy: 2010 – 2030.

In my earlier blog on the Estimates I reported the questioning that officials received about this strategy being late. This time around at the Supplementary hearing, the question and the answers it elicited resembled a ‘Dorothy Dixer’, the friendly questions that government backbenchers ask of Ministers in Question Time, providing them with an opportunity to make an announcement or other statement favourable to the Government. They also serve the very valuable purpose of using up time that might otherwise be devoted to attacking the Government.

Use of this self-serving practice has attracted increasing criticism to the point that it is under review by a Parliamentary Committee.

We are, however, talking about Estimates, not Question Time. Sometimes government members on Estimates Committees do ask benign questions that have a Dorothy-Dix feel to them. However, it takes both a benign question and a self-congratulatory answer to make a Dixer, and this is the first time I’ve seen an answer from officials that had the feel of a Dixer in Estimates.

A new more ‘flexible’ strategy for saving Nature

In responding to Senator McMahon’s question, officials in effect criticised the previous government’s strategy and complimented the Government for developing a ‘flexible framework’ that would place Australia in a ‘strong’ position to respond to expected developments, including the post-2020 Global Biodiversity Framework that is due to be adopted by the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD) when it meets in Kunming, China, in February 2020.

This post-2020 framework will replace the ‘Aichi Targets’, which were adopted in 2010 and mature in 2020.

According to the officers, the Strategy for Nature enabled all Australian jurisdictions to be represented on an ‘innovative’ website known as Australia’s Nature Hub which demonstrates ‘how much good work is happening across this country in relation to biodiversity conservation at multiple levels’. The strategy would ‘place us well in the international space’.

And on it went. Rather than simply explaining why the Government had elected to replace the previous government’s strategy before its expiry, and perhaps outlining the content of the new strategy, as public servants would normally do, one official ventured that ‘we thought it was really important to update’ the previous strategy and that ‘we think this will be an important international contribution for how we can frame our global efforts with respect to diversity’. In doing so officials were either revealing their advice to government, something that officials normally refuse to do, or portraying themselves as players, with their own independent views, another no-no.

The use of Estimates by officials to promote government positions and to deploy the promotional language of ‘spin’ is an unwelcome development and, I hope, an unfortunate aberration rather than evidence of a trend.

What’s in the Strategy for Nature?

As for the value of this new Strategy for Nature; well, that’s a big topic and an important one in this time of major and ongoing biodiversity decline. In an up an coming blog I’ll review the Strategy, not only to see if it puts Australia in a ‘strong’ position to respond to the post-Aichi world, but also to see how it might enhance the conservation of Australia’s biodiversity.

I’m so angry I’m going to write a letter!!

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How do scientists get attention when their science is ignored?

By David Salt

Our elected leaders are ignoring the science on climate change, turning their back on an unfolding biodiversity catastrophe and, in so doing, increasing our vulnerability to ‘natural’ disasters while dispossessing future generations. If the scientist’s science is not making a difference, what’s a scientist supposed to do? Well, it seems increasingly they’re penning public letters to our elected leaders pleading with them to acknowledge the science and act on the evidence (rather than hide within their ideology and continue to prop up vested interests).

Last week, 11,000 scientists from 153 countries and multiple disciplines published an open letter in the journal BioScience calling for urgent action on climate change. It pointed out that science on climate change has been well known for the past 40 years and, indeed, had only grown stronger over that time. While the letter generated considerable media attention, it was largely ignored by our political leaders.

Strengthen our environmental law

A couple of weeks ago, 240 of Australia’s leading conservation scientists published an open letter to our Prime Minister calling for stronger environmental law to protect our imperilled biodiversity. This was done in the hope that a soon to be announced decadal review of the Environmental Protection and Biodiversity Conservation (EPBC) Act might strengthen the legislation.

That review has since been announced but, despite considerable media attention given to the scientists’ letter, the government has framed the review as a way of making the environmental law more efficient, cutting the green tape that blocks economic development. And not one of the 240 scientists who signed the letter to the PM asking for stronger environmental law are on the EPBC Review Panel; indeed no biodiversity scientist is included.

Letters to governments from scientists are not an uncommon strategy employed to raise public awareness on issues, most often issues connected with sustainability. More than 12,000 European scientists signed a letter supporting the student climate strikes that took place in March this year. In New Zealand more than 1,500 academics released a similar statement of support.

Canadian scientists also seem very partial to a protest letter. Sixty Canadian scientists wrote to the Canadian PM on climate action in 2006. Eighteen hundred early-career researchers in Canada wrote to the Canadian Government in 2016 demanding scientific integrity in environmental decision making. And 250 international scientists signed a letter to the Canadian PM in 2017 warning about the international importance of Canada’s efforts on climate change.

A warning to humanity

One of the more notable letters penned by scientists on sustainability was the ‘World Scientists’ Warning to Humanity’, released back in 1992 by the Union of Concerned Scientists. It was signed by more than 1700 scientists including the majority of living Nobel laureates in the sciences.

These concerned professionals called on humankind to cut back on our environmental destruction and cautioned that “a great change in our stewardship of the Earth and the life on it is required, if vast human misery is to be avoided.”

Now, surely in a rational world, when your best brains tell you we need to change because we’re heading for disaster, you sit up and listen. But did we? Not in any way that was really measurable.

You didn’t listen last time!

Twenty five years later in 2017 a new cohort of our ‘best brain’ scientists put out a second notice to humanity pointing out we didn’t listen to the 1992 warning. In this article they also showed graphs of resource use, carbon emissions and other key environmental indicators. In their timelines of these graphs they helpfully mark 1992, the year of the first letter. In almost all cases, consumption or levels of emissions either continued on their merry ascent or even increased in rate following the first ‘warning to humanity’. No government or industry, it seems, was too concerned by what the Union of Concerned Scientists thought was important.

In the second notice to humanity the authors wrote: “To prevent widespread misery and catastrophic biodiversity loss, humanity must practice a more environmentally sustainable alternative to business as usual. This prescription was well articulated by the world’s leading scientists 25 years ago, but in most respects, we have not heeded their warning.”

So what is a letter worth? If the response to the second notice is the same as to the first (‘well articulated’) letter, expect business as usual to continue or even to ramp up.

The pros and cons of letters

It’s easy to be cynical about these letter-writing exercises. They often come over as self-righteous and pious. First notice: ‘Listen to me, I am your oracle scientist. If you keep doing what you’re doing you will be sorry.’ Second notice: ‘You didn’t listen to me last time, now you will be very very sorry if you don’t stop what you’re doing!’

As we discovered in Australia in our recent national elections, people don’t like being told they are wrong and need to change, even when the evidence is overwhelming that we do need to change.

There’s also the argument that while a ‘first’ letter sounds revelatory, by the time we reach the 14th letter, it’s beginning to sound whiny and possibly ‘crying wolf’.

Having said this, it’s easy to be cynical and when these letters come out the deniers, party hacks and apparatchiks line up to start throwing stones; it’s easy to be cynical, but possibly it’s not all that helpful. Scientists should be encouraged to take their concerns to the broader public more often. The have the insights and knowledge that will likely prove critical when we get serious about sustainability and climate change. They need to be an active part of the broader conversation.

Communicating with non-scientists on technical and complex issues is never easy. Scientists should be rewarded when they make the effort. Many universities are now encouraging their scientists to be more active in the communication of their science (and its impact on society) to a broader non-scientist audience. We need more, not less of it.

There’s also the argument that throwing out one warning is unlikely to shift society. Change is always a challenge; just ask anyone who attempted to shift the status quo. You need to keep throwing pebbles because you never know when a message cuts through possibly precipitating widespread change.

And sometimes – when the message is well crafted, the timing is right and the need is obvious to all – sometimes a letter is what really makes all the difference. Einstein wrote* to President Roosevelt in 1939 warning that Germany might develop an atomic bomb and suggested the US should start its own nuclear program – the rest is history.

*Actually, the letter was written by the Hungarian physicist Leó Szilárd who few people knew and signed by Albert Einstein who everyone knew. The message was well crafted, the timing was right and the need obvious to all.

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Little gems from the 2019 Senate Environment Estimates

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What’s hot and what’s goss in the Federal Department of Environment

By Peter Burnett

The Senate held one of its regular ‘Estimates’ hearings in October. Some of the high profile issues raised in Estimates get reported in the mainstream media, but for those with sufficient interest, Estimates are also a treasure trove of small gems. As these small gems are rarely reported I thought I’d share what came out of the session on the Environment Department with you here. But first, some background.

Preparing for battle

Estimates is a strange ritual. To the casual observer, it is the very acme of boring. Public servants file in and out of the hearing room in troupes, while Senators put a miscellany of questions about what appears to be administrative detail, such as: ‘How many staff in the department?’ ‘How many times has the Minister met with representatives of Rio Tinto while this mine was under environmental impact assessment?’ ‘How much have you allocated to the Threatened Species Recovery Plan for the Striped Earless Dragon?’

Estimates has some of the trappings of a court. For many years I participated as a departmental ‘witness’, giving ‘evidence’. Preparing for it reminded me of preparing for court as well: a lot of swatting, including much time spent learning material that did not attract any questions.

It also reminded me of what people say it’s like to fight in a war: long periods of boredom (while others are questioned) punctuated by intense periods of action when suddenly it’s your turn and Senators are trying to lure you into confirming their suspicions about what the minister has been up to. The media and the minister’s office are nowhere to be seen, but you are acutely aware they are able to watch your every word on closed-circuit TV.

Rules of engagement

It seems to me that Estimates has become increasingly political. A colleague who had participated in early Estimates hearings in the 1970s told me that he attended as a relatively junior officer (now a no-no) and that he was actually asked straight and detailed questions about the ‘estimates’ of expenditure, a much less common phenomenon now. Certainly during my time I felt that some of the interchanges were becoming more combative.

Despite the apparent focus on spending proposals, at some point the Senate ruled that almost any question was an Estimates question, because anything done by ministers or public servants involved government spending, if only on their salaries.

Despite this broad scope, in my experience environment estimates questions tended to fall into a small number of categories, all with political intent. For example:

Questions to buttress a political point on the environment generally; for example, questions about staff reductions or budget cuts, to show that a government was reducing its support for the environment.
‘Spill the beans’ questions, designed to get public servants to reveal what ministers were doing or failing to do; for example, ‘How many meetings did you attend between the Minister and the Farmers’ Federation?’ or ‘How long ago did you brief the minister on these grant applications?’
Probing of policy and regulatory processes, looking at a minimum for some insider detail that might serve as grist for the political mill; such as ‘Have you engaged expert advice on this application to take water from a Ramsar wetland?’

Even though the rules exempt officials from revealing departmental advice to ministers, this doesn’t stop those questions being asked anyway, as a revelation that a minister had departed from public service advice would be potent politically.

Don’t be ‘interesting’

No public servant wants to be remembered for saying something ‘interesting’, so most would endeavour to make their honest answers as dull as dishwater. 

Environment Estimates this October was nothing out of the ordinary, with ‘dishwater’ answers aplenty. Despite this, if you’re prepared to pay attention, there are always a few little gems arising from each session of estimates. And so it was this year.

Below is list of topics that I found interesting. (And you can read the full transcript yourself if you like.)

One thing that stands out for me is the under-resourcing of the Department. There’s mention below for example of non-compliance with FOI regulation because of IT problems, delays in listing threatened species, an overdue national biodiversity report, and an inability to fast track development proposals.

Small gems from the October hearings:

Interference by a minister: Top of the list were attempts to elicit information that might support allegations that Energy Minister Angus Taylor had attempted to interfere with compliance action affecting his farming interests (this has been covered in the mainstream media).

Admit it’s a ‘crisis’: The Greens tried to get the senior climate change official to use the phrases ‘climate emergency’ ‘climate crisis’ and ‘getting worse’ but the replies used the flattest of language such as ‘the climate is definitely changing’.

FOI non-compliance: Labor quizzed the department about its non-compliance with FOI (Freedom of Information requests) and what the minister knew about it – the Department claimed that IT problems had put it many months behind in disclosing FoI releases on its website.

GBR conflict of interest:  Several Senators asked about the Great Barrier Reef (‘GBR’), including an alleged conflict of interest associated with a contract from the GBR Foundation, which holds over $400m of government reef funding, to the Cane Growers Association, which had also hosted a speaking event by a climate skeptic.

Delays in uplisting the Australian Sea Lion: South Australian Senators probed delays in listing threatened species, especially the ‘uplisting’ of the Australian Sea Lion. The Sea Lion questions seemed connected with concerns about oil drilling in the Great Australian Bight.

Underwhelming Special Envoys: There were questions about the role of backbencher Warren Entsch as ‘Special Envoy’ for the GBR–this seemed to be linked to criticisms that efforts by the Drought Envoy, Barnaby Joyce, had been underwhelming (eg ‘briefing’ the PM by text message).

EPBC Review: Senators probed officials for information about the review of the EPBC Act, which was about to be announced — answers revealed little, but it did emerge that a review of the biodiversity offsets policy, due in 2017, had in effect been rolled into the EPBC review.

Ban on exporting waste: Officials expect the government’s proposed ban on export of major waste streams — paper, plastics, tyres and glass — to be in place next year.

GBR – World Heritage in Danger: There were questions about the forthcoming lodgement of a ‘State of Conservation’ report on the GBR to the World Heritage Committee — Senators seemed to be probing for any indication that the Committee might revisit the possibility of a ‘World Heritage In Danger’ listing.

Overdue response to Convention on Biological Diversity: There were also questions about Australia’s overdue sixth national report to the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD) — the ‘dishwater’ answer was that ‘it’s taken longer than we anticipated’. In the course of answering this, the Deputy Secretary revealed that there was a new national biodiversity strategy, the ‘National Strategy for Nature’, was going for endorsement at a meeting of environment ministers on 8 November.

Fast tracking dam proposals: There were questions about the ‘fast-tracking’ of NSW proposals to build dams, to which a Deputy Secretary replied that the Environment Minister’s expectation was that ‘we will meet the statutory requirement of the Act and not be late in our approvals-which, sadly, is fast-tracking for us these days.’

Follow up on the Craik Report on ag: As to the fate of the Craik Report on agriculture and the EPBC Act, [Ed: apparently done to appease farmers angry about the impact of threatened species listings on their ability to farm] it seems that there will be no response. Rather, it ‘would certainly be a … document that we would draw to the attention’ of the EPBC Act review.

Adani: Not surprisingly, there were several Adani questions. First, a new referral for the North Galilee Water Scheme had attracted 7,000 submissions, but there was no decision yet as to whether this proposal needed an environmental assessment. Second, Adani still had not identified the last 3% of a Brigalow offset required under an earlier approval.

Kyoto carryover credits: As to Australia’s carbon emissions and whether we would meet the 2030 target — we will meet the target, using Kyoto carryover credits ‘to the extent necessary’. Interestingly, officials were not aware of any other country proposing to use Kyoto carryover credits.

Electric vehicle strategy: The government is developing an electric vehicle strategy and expects it to yield no more than a (very small) 10m tonnes of abatement (from an overall target of 695 m).

Abatement vs land clearing: Vegetation accounts for 125.7m tonnes out of the 192m tonnes of abatement contracted under the Emissions Reduction Fund but there is no comparison available to contrast this with the amount of native vegetation lost to land clearing.

On the taboo of triage

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Some hard choices we don’t want to even think about

By David Salt

Former leader of the Liberal Party, John Hewson, made an astounding comment last week during an address to farmers and industry leaders. “Government ministers are not turning up at events if they have the word ‘climate’ in the title,” he claimed.

Hard to believe but everyone knows that political parties of different stripes avoid certain words that trouble the ideologies that underpin the core beliefs of that party. As George Orwell frequently noted (and dictators often put into practice), language is power.

And it’s not just things tagged ‘climate’. I was amazed to observe the word ‘biodiversity’ disappeared from almost all Government messaging after the Liberal Party (under Tony Abbott) took office in 2013. How is it possible that a term like biodiversity*, that emerged from the academic field of conservation science and surely carries no political baggage at all, is seen to be politically taboo?

Priorities

In a general sense I’d ascribe it to broad government priorities: first we fix the economy, then we look after the environment. It’s a common mantra of political leaders and particularly so for those at the conservative end of the spectrum. I won’t discuss here why I believe this prioritisation of economy first/environment later is wrong (on so many levels) because that’s a big and hairy discussion better left to another time. However, it’s closely related to another taboo: don’t question the primacy of economic growth – growth is good, ad infinitum.

Of course, the empirical evidence on climate change and biodiversity decline is incontestable in terms of evidence and the overwhelming scientific consensus. Which is not to say the evidence isn’t contested in the ideological arena of political power? Just consider the denialists’ most recent effort, a publication titled ‘There is no climate emergency’. It was reviewed and shown to be a text-book example of the denialist dark arts exhibiting bias, inaccuracy and cherry-picked information.

However, surely it’s easier to not mention something rather than expend considerable effort in constructing an ever more elaborate lie to deny the existence of that thing.

Which leads me to a taboo word so consequential that we must never breathe its name: triage.

Well, that’s not completely true. In medical settings like hospitals and treating wounded soldiers on battlefields, ‘triage’ is a common and accepted term. Indeed, the idea was born on the Napoleonic battlefield.

Triage comes from the French word ‘trier’, which means to separate, sort, sift or select. It’s all about setting priorities when the need is urgent and resources are limited. On the battlefield (or in a hospital’s emergency ward) doctors and nurses triage patients to ensure appropriate care is given as quickly as possible depending on available resources: “This soldier we can save, this soldier we can’t.” “This patient needs immediate care, that patient will have to wait.”

Triage this

Medical triage underpins some of the toughest decisions humans have to make but society accepts this process because these decisions are made by trusted experts working for the common good.

But when it comes to other forms of triage – namely conservation triage, landscape triage or enterprise triage – we’re entering dangerously taboo terrain.

Conservation triage refers to prioritising resources for threatened species (eg, “this species we can save, this species we can’t do much for so let’s stop wasting funds on it”); landscape triage refers to prioritising resources for different types of land use (eg, “we’ll support farmers working in this region but not those working over there”); and enterprise triage refers to prioritising resources for different business sectors (eg, “renewables is an emerging industry that should be supported but manufacturing is a mature sector that can’t be propped up”).

From a political perspective, these forms of triage are never to be mentioned because as soon as you do you draw a target on yourself. If you suggest that government should favour one thing while letting another fade away you’ll be accused of picking winners and giving up on losers.

Winners and losers

When triage is applied to threatened species the debate becomes particularly heated. If any politician even dares to suggest that resources might be better used if they were prioritised to where they might have the greatest impact, the media (and opportunistic politicians from the other side) immediately ask: “Which species are you giving up on?!”

It’s an effective attack because the broader community believes no species should go extinct, and the government is careful to avoid any discussion on whether this expectation is being met.

Of course, this expectation is not being met. Indeed, the reverse applies. The world is witnessing a biodiversity catastrophe and Australia leads the developed world in our rate of extinction.

The tragic irony of not undertaking robust conservation triage (which necessarily involves transparency and accountability) is that the pitifully inadequate resources available for threatened species conservation are poorly applied resulting in waste and ineffective conservation. Politicians pretend that all species will be saved while making ad hoc, reactive and opaque decisions to save whatever species is the flavour of the month. It’s not only inefficient, it’s quite immoral and represents a deep failure in leadership.

Whatever, don’t mention the word ‘triage’ as a tool of conservation. Not only is it a politically challenging process to prosecute, it also throws a light on our abject failure on threatened species conservation.

Don’t mention it

Similar arguments apply to other forms of triage, such as landscape and enterprise triage. Picking winners highlights the losers and throws a focus on the government’s failure in letting an unsustainable situation develop.

Attempting triage on land management, for example, would require the government to acknowledge that traditional farming is simply not appropriate in many Australian landscapes contexts, especially in light of predictions connected to climate change. Criticising farmers, of course, is another taboo.

It’s easier to simply not mention ‘climate’ (or ‘biodiversity’ or ‘triage’), and hope your pigeons don’t come home to roost until at least after the next election.

*On biodiversity: The word ‘biodiversity’ is a shortening of the term ‘biological diversity’ and broadly speaking refers to the variability of life on Earth. The word took on official usage in the 1980s (and its creation is attributed to the scientists Thomas Lovejoy and Walter Rosen). Truth to tell, while I attribute the demise of the term ‘biodiversity’ in political discourse to a plot by Abbott’s conservatives to avoid all science, a robust study of the decline of ‘biodiversity’ in conservation policy discourse in Australia has revealed that the downturn in usage began much earlier than Abbott’s rise to government in 2013. This study, led by Alex Kusmanoff at RMIT, suggests that from 2003 to 2014 the term ‘biodiversity’ was in steady decline while the term ‘ecosystem services’, an economic framing of the benefits of nature, was on the rise.

Image: Otis Historical Archives Nat’l Museum of Health & Medicine, Creative Commons Attribution 2.0

Is Corporate Social Responsibility an environmental ‘Dodge’?

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Why companies don’t make the environmental their top priority

By Peter Burnett

Corporate Social Responsibility has been in the news a lot lately. Corporates have been active in recent social debates, for example as advocates for same sex marriage and Indigenous recognition; and most recently when some companies backed September’s School Strike for Climate. This has prompted the Australian Government to push back, urging corporations to ‘stick to their knitting’.

In the USA, the high profile Business Roundtable, whose members are the CEOs of ‘leading American companies’ such as Tim Cook of Apple, recently dumped their long-held position that the purpose of a corporation is to serve shareholders, in favour of a commitment to ‘all of our stakeholders’ (their emphasis). This included a commitment to ‘protect the environment by embracing sustainable practices across our businesses.’

The ‘rules’ for corporations

Can a corporation really embrace sustainable practices if it is not in their immediate commercial interests to do so?

This is an issue with a long history (even longer than post-war discussions on this thing called sustainability). In the 1910s, on the back of the success of his Model T car, Henry Ford cut prices, gave his workers significant pay rises and started building a war chest to fund future expansion. But Ford hit the wall when he proposed putting an end to special dividends as a way of making his war chest even larger. Two of Ford’s shareholders, the Dodge brothers (themselves car makers), successfully sued Ford for such an audacious proposal. The Michigan Supreme Court forced Ford to continue paying the dividends on the basis that the company must operate in the interests of shareholders.

This case is often discussed as a key source of two key principles of corporate law, namely shareholder primacy and the ‘business judgement’ rule. And these are not just US principles, but are reflected in modern corporate law in Australia. Section 181 of Corporations Act 2001 requires directors to act in good faith in the best interests of the corporation, while  section 180 enacts the business judgment rule, in essence that directors meet their duty to act in the best interest of the corporation if they believe, rationally and after exercising due diligence, that they are so doing.

The net result is that, while directors must act in the best interests of the corporation, directors have significant scope to apply their best judgment in determining what those interests are.

However, acting in the best interests of the corporation effectively means acting in the interests of the shareholders, since they are its owners. Furthermore, since (almost all) shareholders are investors, acting in the corporation’s best interests pretty much means making money, or at least increasing shareholder value, as much as possible.

So, broadly speaking, corporations are in it for the money. They have a one-track mind. And, allowing some leeway for management discretion, shareholders are entitled to make sure it stays that way.

Corporations and voluntary action for the environment

What does all this mean in terms of caring for the environment?

Well, corporations often claim they will care for the environment, as the US Business Roundtable has just done. Further, corporations often acknowledge the need for a social licence, which is not quite the same thing.

Finally, corporations sometimes take voluntary environmental action at the behest of government. A recent example came in a statement by Trevor Evans, Federal Assistant Minister for Waste Reduction and Environmental Management, who said that creating a more circular economy in Australia is a responsibility shared between individuals, governments and industry. (Of course, industry mostly consists of corporations).

Despite the impression created by such statements, the bottom line is set not by business roundtables and ministers, but by the rights that the law gives to shareholders.

If a company is led by a visionary and the shareholders share the vision, almost anything is possible. Elon Musk for example has managed to spend hugely on his vision to accelerate the world’s transition to sustainable energy, pushing Tesla Corporation to the limits of viability through borrowing and even giving valuable rights away by opening patents to all-comers, without attracting shareholder litigation of the Dodge Bros v Ford type*.

Keeping out of ‘Dodge’ City

On the more likely scenario that there will inevitably be some modern Dodge brothers among the shareholders in any large company, how might a corporation take voluntary action for the environment without risking shareholder litigation?

For example, how might companies respond to Minister Evans’ call to share in responsibility for the circular economy without getting in trouble? The answer depends on whether the corporation is a direct participant in the circular economy, such as a recycler, or simply affected by it, say a department store.

It is in the commercial interests of a recycler to see the circular economy grow as it will increase demand for recycled products. Therefore the directors might justify going well beyond general industry engagement with government policy development. They might decide for example that the company will sell recycled product at a loss, or adopt unprofitable circular economy practices within its own business, to establish itself as an exemplar. They might even justify paying their employees a ‘recycling allowance’ to promote recycling at home and to spread the word on social media.

A department store, on the other hand, may not be able to justify any voluntary investment in circular economy practices, beyond some basic ‘greenwashing’ at the margins to support a general ‘we are environmentally responsible’ stance. In fact, it might be in the interests of an upmarket store to maximise the use of virgin materials and extravagant packaging, to enhance the overall ‘customer experience’. These interests might even lead it to oppose some circular economy initiatives in the name of customer choice.

So it’s horses for courses. Yet in either these examples or others, companies can only justify voluntary environmental action if there is a business case for that action. If companies go significantly beyond what a business case would justify, they are inviting challenge by our modern Dodge brothers.

So what’s the right approach?

In a recent commentary on the US Business Roundtable decision to adopt the ‘stakeholder value’ approach, company director and philanthropist Alan Schwartz argued that it is the job of companies to maximise their profits within the rules, and the job of governments to get the rules, including environmental rules right, for example by setting a carbon price (‘Why Friedman was right’ and the Business Roundtable wrong).

In his view, efforts by companies to go beyond shareholder interests in pursuit of broader stakeholder interests are likely to be no more than a sideshow.

Looking through an environmental lens, as we do in this blog, I think Mr Schwartz has it right. It’s much better to have clear and comprehensive environmental rules set by government than to rely on the social ambition of directors and the tolerance of investors.

Image: Arek Socha from Pixabay

* There is shareholder litigation over Tesla’s acquisition of solar panel manufacturer SolarCity, but this is based on other grounds.

Shame Greta Shame

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Is ‘shame’ a good tactic to get our shameless leaders to engage with the ‘truth’?

By David Salt

An open letter to Greta Thunberg from one Australian

Dear Greta

Thanks for your efforts. You’ve done well. Your speeches, UN discussions and the student rallies you helped inspire have, hopefully, shifted the debate on climate change. (God knows the outcries from scientists don’t seem to be achieving much.)

However, I have to say, I am terribly fatigued by the events of recent weeks. It’s been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. I was elated by the grassroots nature of the students’ Climate Strike, impressed by your fearless denunciations of our world order, appalled by the vicious blowback you then endured, and, finally, I am incredulous at the shameless tissue of lies our national leader, Scott Morrison, told the UN Assembly in the wake of your efforts. His whole engagement with climate change (and his defence of Australia’s efforts to engage with it) fills me with shame.

And that, Greta, is a terrible shame in itself. Because, rather than engage with your heroic message, I find myself longing for the emotional turmoil of these recent weeks to simply recede, be swallowed by the media cycle and let me, us, them, get back to the comfort of business as usual.

Unfortunately, as you so passionately outlined (along with almost all the available science), ‘business as usual’ is neither sustainable nor fair. Business as usual is killing our life support systems, drowning our poorest citizens and disinheriting future generations (which, of course, includes you and the youth of today).

You have every right to stoke our shame on this but I worry that for some it simply causes them to double down on their lies. ‘Double down’, it’s an American piece of jargon that now dominates our media, possibly a sign of our partisan times. Rather than admit you’re caught out on a fib or deception, you reinforce it, double down, by telling an even bigger lie. But I digress.

In any case, Greta, I wanted to tell you that many Australians are very supportive of your crusade. Unfortunately, that doesn’t include our national leaders. They fervently don’t agree with you. Under their leadership, our country is not prepared to play its fair part in saving the future. But they’re not prepared to even acknowledge this, instead claiming Australia is doing its fair share. Sounds shameless, doesn’t it?

I won’t take you through the details of this denial. That has been done comprehensively by many others (for example, see the report by the Climate Council and this story in The Guardian). It seems the facts simply don’t count. But the broad gist of our Government’s defence is that our emission targets are strong (they’re not, they’re among the weakest of all developed countries); we’re doing our bit (we’re not, we’re responsible for 1.3% of global emissions but only represent 0.3% of the global population, indeed we have the highest per capita emissions in the developed world and we are the third largest exporter of fossil fuels in the world); and that we’ll reach our (inadequate) targets at a canter (we won’t, our emissions are actually increasing and have been from the past 5 years).

Our Prime Minister even had the audacity to throw in at the end of his UN statement that our most climate-threatened natural ecosystem, the Great Barrier Reef is in good condition: “our Great Barrier Reef remains one of the world’s most pristine areas of natural beauty,” he trumpeted. “Feel free to visit it. Our reef is vibrant and resilient and protected under the world’s most comprehensive reef management plan.”

I’m sure you know this Greta but, in case you don’t, in 2016 and 2017 the Great Barrier Reef was severely damaged through back-to-back bleaching events which killed half of its corals. Australia’s current emissions target goal, if followed by other countries, would sign the death warrant of the Great Barrier Reef and coral reefs around the world.

What can I say? It’s just shameless.

So, while I agree with your message, I worry about the strategy. How do you bring about change by shaming people who are shameless?

This is not just about Australia’s current political configuration. Populism, partisanship and win-at-all-costs seem to be the modus operandi of an increasing number of national leaders all around the world (Trump, Johnson and Bolsonaro being three other examples). If they can so shamelessly deny the evidence (simply discount it as just ‘fake news’), then shaming them to change their position may be a futile endeavour.

In any event, keep up the good work. It could be I’m quite wrong. Our more ‘mature’ approach of appealing to rationality, logic and incremental improvement does not appear to be achieving much at the moment. The world is moving away from a sustainable space.

Your call to the younger generation, on the other hand, does appear to be generating grass roots support and action. Shaming our leaders may not influence the shameless behaviour of those leaders but maybe that’s not the point. Your efforts are creating a groundswell of engagement that may, in the years to come, be the thing that actually makes a difference. So, keep it up.

All the best

David

Federal environmental planning: the broken leg of the stool

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Our national environmental law is a bit wobbly because it doesn’t take planning seriously

By Peter Burnett

Our big and complex national environmental law is called the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999 (or EPBC Act). When you unpack its major components (as I did in a recent blog) they sort themselves quite nicely into three streams: 1. Identify Matters of National Environmental Significance (MNES) for protection; 2. Plan for Conservation; and 3. Assess and Approve for Development or Trade.

The streams can be seen as the three legs of a stool, with protecting, conserving and approving designed to combine to ensure that our most important environmental values are looked after, but without blocking economic activity more than is necessary. At least, that’s the theory. Unsurprisingly, there are some problems in practice and in this blog I’ll start with the biggest: the planning leg is half-missing.

One leg is half-missing

The Act provides a planning mechanism for everything that it protects or conserves: bioregional plans for biodiversity and other values; wildlife conservation plans for listed marine, migratory and conservation-dependent species; recovery and threat abatement plans for threatened species; and management plans for heritage places, Ramsar sites and Commonwealth reserves.

The problem is that many of these plans are dated, underdone, or were never created in the first place. I’ll illustrate by examples. In each case I looked up the relevant place or plan on the Department of the Environment and Energy website [www.environment.gov.au] and followed the links.

Dated plans

A number of plans look dated to me. For example, the very first recovery plan listed in the Species Profile and Threats Database, for the great desert skink, was made in 2001 and expired in 2011. The executive summary of the plan says that the Recovery Team will review implementation progress annually and any changes made to the plan will be made available to all stakeholders. There was nothing on SPRAT to indicate whether this had occurred.

Underdone plans

Other plans look underdone. I picked the recovery plan for Carnaby’s cockatoo, an endangered species found in the woodlands and plains around Perth. The species has been controversial because Perth’s development often involves clearance of the cockatoo’s habitat.

The recovery plan identifies eucalypt woodlands as critical to the survival of the cockatoo, in part because they provide breeding hollows, which the plan notes take 100-200 years to develop. It goes on to identify protection of nesting habitat as a recovery action and adopts as a performance measure for this the maintenance of the extent of nesting habitat (trees with nesting hollows).

The implication seems clear: don’t clear old growth woodlands. Moreover, the EPBC Act prohibits the environment minister from acting inconsistently with a recovery plan, so a plan containing a statement like this would block development in these areas.

However, the plan stops far short of such language. Under the heading ‘guide for decision makers’, it states only that the success of the plan requires that decision-makers avoid approving activities that will adversely affect the cockatoo, and that they should minimise or mitigate those impacts that cannot be avoided (ie. apply the ‘avoid, mitigate, offset’ hierarchy). The plan goes on to cite WA EPA guidance that it is ‘unlikely to recommend’ approval of projects with a significant adverse impact on the species.

In effect, the plan simply points out that if decision-makers want to save the cockatoo, significant impacts should be avoided, or at least minimised. By pulling its punches, the plan leaves it open to the federal minister to approve the destruction of critical habitat, provided he or she duly considers the plan and applies the mitigation hierarchy to the extent the minister regards as practicable.

Missing plans

At a larger scale, looking at biodiversity more generally, there are no bioregional plans for Australia’s 89 terrestrial bioregions. Nil, none, zero!

Fortunately, Australia’s marine area is much better catered for, with bioregional plans for four of five marine bioregions, supplemented by management plans for marine park networks in each bioregion plus one for the Coral Sea Marine Park.

It’s the politics stupid

Of course, there is a practical explanation for the absence of terrestrial plans. Bioregional plans require joint federal-state action, except on the small portion of land classed as Commonwealth land. Federal cooperation is never easy, even between governments of the same political flavour. Moreover, preparing lots of plans would be expensive and could well stir up local concerns about the whole gamut of development and conservation issues in the region concerned. Such a scenario is, to say the least, politically unappealing.

Yet without bioregional plans project-based environmental impact assessment (EIA) must proceed without contextualised, place-specific guidance on what needs to be conserved and where development can occur. This perpetuates one of the major flaws with project-based EIA, the ‘death of a thousand cuts’, where small environmental impacts are approved in ignorance of their cumulative effect.

The bottom line

While under-done recovery plans may provide some of the guidance that should be coming from the absent bioregional plans, at the end of the day the stool has only two-and-a-bit legs, leaving development decisions pretty much at the minister’s discretion.

This means that a minister who wasn’t really interested in protecting Matters of National Environmental Significance won’t find themselves hemmed in by plans. Even a minister determined to protect and conserve MNES would find that the absence of contextual information a major problem in seeking to make good decisions, just as it’s hard to see where you’re going in a fog.

Who wants a stool with two and half legs?

Image: A pair of Carnaby’s cockatoos feeding on banksia. This species is endemic to south-western Australia. It has experienced widespread loss of nesting and feeding habitat and is considered endangered under the IUCN Red List, and Australian federal and state legislation. Since the 1950s, numbers of the Carnaby’s cockatoo have declined by more than 50%, with its range contracting by over 30%. Image by Leonie Valentine.

I’ll match your crisis and raise you one Armageddon

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The pros and cons of playing the crisis game

By David Salt

Quick, this is an emergency! Do Something!

How do I know it’s an emergency? Because everyone is telling me it is*.

The Australian Medical Association has formally declared climate change a health emergency.

The City of Sydney has just declared a climate emergency (following in Hobart’s footsteps). Indeed, around the world some 660 local governments have made similar declarations.

A few months ago a bipartisan UK Parliament passed a national declaration of an Environment and Climate Emergency (with Canada doing the same soon afterwards).

In Australia there are calls for a conscience vote by the parliamentary representatives for a declaration of a climate emergency but, predictably, both major political parties are resisting. However, pressure is mounting with the Greens tabling a petition of 125,000 people asking the Parliament to declare one.

Crisis talk

Why bother invoking a climate emergency?

Partly it’s because some people feel events are suggesting things have gone way beyond ‘normal’. It is now an emergency.

Partly it’s because some people want our elected representatives to start signalling that they see climate change as being a higher priority than they currently do.

And, given these motivations, some people just want something to be done. Stop talking and do something.

Crises in the past have served to bring on action. Indeed, sometimes a good crisis can galvanise a nation. The bombing of Pearl Harbour, for example, transformed overnight a war-phobic USA into a unified fighting machine that would go on to become the world’s leading superpower.

Calling an emergency signals that special effort needs to be taken to deal with an extra-ordinary situation. It mobilises resources and public sentiment. It ‘allows’ a government to assume more control, often overriding individual freedoms that exist when things are normal. Indeed, I suspect this is one of many reasons conservatives are so loathe to accept the situation we are facing is a crisis. Because to do so leads to constraints on personal freedoms.

Take care when crying ‘crisis’

Climate change is big. Indeed it’s one of the biggest threats facing our species. But does labelling it a ‘crisis’ or an ‘emergency’ really assist us in dealing with it?

David Holmes from Monash University recently set out six reasons why a national climate emergency is not a realistic or helpful option in Australia. Among these, he says it would require bipartisan support (which clearly it lacks), the term ‘climate emergency’ doesn’t mean much to many Australians and no-one trusts politicians. (This lack of trust is especially significant since our Prime Minister visited the UN and told the world a highly misleading and cherry-picked set of facts about Australia’s efforts on climate change).

Beyond Australia’s specific context, I’d put forward five generic reasons why care needs to be taken with crying ‘crisis’.

1. It prevents a calibrated response.
Where do you go once you’ve announced an ‘emergency’? It’s kind of the end of ‘normal’. It often leads the media and government struggling to come up with ways of describing the magnitude of the problem or response. Last year we described the crisis of the fish deaths on the Darling simply as the ‘mass fish kill event’. This year, with the same event looming, we’re told to prepare ourselves for a fish Armageddon!

2. It normalises crisis
And if it’s an emergency this year, what happens when things get worse next year. Is it like emergency plus (maybe that’s what an Armageddon is)? People will just begin thinking that emergency is really business as usual. I find it’s a similar problem when trying to engage people on climate change by discussing how our weather is ‘record breaking’. Yes, they say, we’ve been breaking records each year for much of the past decade. Breaking records is now normal.

3. It causes people to give up
Emergencies promote uncertainty and sometimes even panic. Events are clearly beyond our capacity to deal with them. This leads to anxiety, depression and fatalism (with many people actually declaring they won’t have kids because of the declining state of the world). Indeed, it often induces a form of paralysis.

4. It encourages citizens to not take responsibility
Individuals are often overwhelmed in an emergency and expect higher authorities (usually the government) to take over. In some ways an emergency signals ‘this is not my problem, it’s the governments’ or maybe some other higher power (especially when you start invoking Armageddon).

5. It doesn’t provide a constructive way forward
I’ve spoken before about how people deal with the perception of an existential crisis, an event so big it threatens our very identity. Most people give up and withdraw into nihilism, retreat into fundamentalism or, the constructive option, get into activism. Unfortunately I think too much crisis talk creates nihilists or fundementalists.

Dream on

Several years ago the political economist Anthony Giddens observed that “Martin Luther King did not stir his audience in 1963 by declaiming ‘I have a nightmare’.” Similarly, it concerns me that invoking climate change as an emergency may shut down people more than causing them to believe they can make a difference.

Consequently, I think we need to always be talking about where hope may lie as the shadows of climate change darken. To that end I’d like to finish with six sentences of hope recently penned by Richard Flanagan, one of Australia’s finest authors. He put these words to paper (in an article in The Guardian) because he sought to escape the sense of futility that seems to be settling on us as our government continues to shirk its responsibilities on climate change. He said:
“1. We [the general community] believe Australia can be an affirming light in a time of despair, a global leader in transitioning to a carbon-free and socially just society, and that is why we wish our government to –
2. Work with Australian land managers to stop land clearing, protect existing forests and grow new forests to absorb existing carbon pollution.
3. Work with Australian farmers and graziers to make farming carbon neutral.
4. Work with Australian miners to ensure a transition into 21st century minerals (nickel, rare earth) and end thermal coalmining and gas fracking in Australia.
5. Work with Australian regulators to make all Australian ground transport powered by renewable energy by 2030.
6. Work with Australian industry to make Australia a renewable energy giant and carbon-neutral economy by 2050, funded by progressive pollution tariffs on global heaters.”

So, while I agree that climate change is now a real and present crisis, declaring it an emergency and leaving it at that is insufficient and, indeed, may be counterproductive. If like me you think there’s a crisis but don’t want to conjure up nightmares, you could demand your government representatives to take our situation seriously, but at the same time make sure you put forward constructive and possible alternatives to business as usual.

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

*Measuring climate change: Actually, I don’t need to be told it’s a climate emergency. I can see it in every news bulletin be it Australia’s fire season getting underway in a devastating manner in September, unprecedented hurricanes ravaging the Bahamas, and the Amazon burning before our very eyes.

And, not only can I see the direct impacts of climate change, I also accept the reports of the World’s leading scientific institutions. Let me reprint here the summary findings of the World Meteorological Organization (WMO) report on the Global Climate from 2015-2019. This report, hot of the press, brings together measurements made by thousands of scientists using multiple technologies over many years, and it all paints the same picture.

Given this evidence and our government’s steadfast refusal to respond with appropriate urgency, is it any wonder everyone is calling for an emergency to be proclaimed?

The Global Climate in 2015-2019
World Meteorological Organization (WMO)

Warmest five-year period on record: The average global temperature for 2015–2019 is on track to be the warmest of any equivalent period on record. It is currently estimated to be 1.1°Celsius (± 0.1°C) above pre-industrial (1850–1900) times. Widespread and long-lasting heatwaves, record-breaking fires and other devastating events such as tropical cyclones, floods and drought have had major impacts on socio-economic development and the environment.

Continued decrease of sea ice and ice mass: Arctic summer sea-ice extent has declined at a rate of approximately 12% per decade during 1979-2018. The four lowest values for winter sea-ice extent occurred between 2015 and 2019. Overall, the amount of ice lost annually from the Antarctic ice sheet increased at least six-fold between 1979 and 2017. Glacier mass loss for 2015-2019 is the highest for any five-year period on record.

Sea-level rise is accelerating; sea water is becoming more acidic: The observed rate of global mean sea-level rise accelerated from 3.04 millimeters per year (mm/yr) during the period 1997–2006 to approximately 4mm/yr during the period 2007–2016. This is due to the increased rate of ocean warming and melting of the Greenland and West Antarctica ice sheets. There has been an overall increase of 26% in ocean acidity since the beginning of the industrial era.

Record Greenhouse Gas Concentrations in the Atmosphere: Levels of the main long-lived greenhouse gases, carbon dioxide (CO2), methane (CH4)) and nitrous oxide (N2O) have reached new highs. The last time Earth’s atmosphere contained 400 parts per million CO2 was about 3-5 million years ago, when global mean surface temperatures were 2-3°C warmer than today, ice sheets in Greenland and West Antarctica melted, parts of East Antarctica ice had retreated, all causing global see level rise of 10-20m compared with today.

In 2018, global CO2 concentration was 407.8 parts per million (ppm), 2.2 ppm higher than 2017. Preliminary data from a subset of greenhouse gas monitoring sites for 2019 indicate that CO2 concentrations are on track to reach or even exceed 410 parts per million (ppm) by the end of 2019. In 2017, globally averaged atmospheric concentrations of CO2 were 405.6 ±0.1 ppm, CH4) at 1859 ±2 parts per billion (ppb) and N2O at 329.9 ±0.1 ppb. These values constitute, respectively, 146%, 257% and 122% of pre-industrial levels (pre-1750). The growth rate of CO2 averaged over three consecutive decades (1985–1995, 1995–2005 and 2005–2015) increased from 1.42 ppm/yr to 1.86 ppm/yr and to 2.06 ppm/yr

https://public.wmo.int/en/media/press-release/landmark-united-science-report-informs-climate-action-summit

What’s in the EPBC Box?

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Unpackaging Australia’s national environmental law

By Peter Burnett

I’ve decided to pull apart Australia’s national environmental law, the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Act 1999 (EPBC Act). I want to see what makes it tick and, perhaps more significantly, to see if I can explain what makes it tick.

I’m not doing this for fun; there are two major reviews coming up that will delve into this important law and I’d like to have my say in these reviews. If I’m going to have my say, I’ll have to go beyond just knowing what I’m talking about. I have to be able to communicate my understanding to support my point of view.

This is no easy task. A colleague of mine, with extensive experience in public policy but not environmental policy, recently tried to read the EPBC Act. He told me, with considerable frustration, that he found it virtually impenetrable.

I can also draw on personal experience. I recently gave a guest lecture about the Act as part of an environmental law course (the course was for non-lawyers). The blank looks I got from the students, and the absence of questions, challenged me to try a new approach to explaining what this important piece of legislation does.

The two upcoming reviews of the EPBC Act could have significant consequences for environmental law in Australia. The first is being carried out by the Productivity Commission and examines regulation of the resources sector. This review has just started and I discussed it in an earlier blog.

The second review examines the operation of the entire EPBC Act, something that the law requires every 10 years. This review is due to be announced in October.

Only for the ardent

The EPBC Act is around a thousand pages long! And that’s just the Act itself. This doesn’t include supporting regulations and guidelines. There are reasons for this length (and complexity).

Because of the peculiarities of Australian constitutional law, parts of the Act use arcane legal language to attach themselves to certain constitutional hooks.

The Act is also repetitive, because it applies similar processes to different things. The alternative would be to draft master provisions and apply them in multiple places through frequent cross-references. I’ve heard drafters argue that repetition makes the law easier to read but I’m not entirely convinced – what the Act gains in readability through repetition may be lost in the added length.

All in all, reading the Act is only for the ardent.

So, with the blank looks of the students still fresh in my memory, I decided to draw some pictures of it. I’d seen some well-drawn flow charts of some of the Act’s regulatory processes and thought I could do something similar, with a broad readership in mind.

I started with the idea of reverse-engineering a piece of equipment, say an espresso machine: first identify the major components, such as reservoir, boiler and coffee grinder, further dismantling each as necessary to see what it does. Then assemble the machine and observe how the components complement each other to produce a finished product.

So what’s in the box?

It turns out that the Act has 16 major components, at least as I’ve counted them (and leaving out ‘ancillary equipment’ such as compliance powers).

You can see these in my diagram below (Figure 1). The parts fall into three streams, indicating that the Act has three broad functions.

Figure 1: The main components of the EPBC Act (omitting supporting provisions such as compliance powers)

The first stream is about identifying various environmental values for protection. This mostly covers threatened species and special places. Once these values are identified, usually through a formal listing process, they are ‘protected’ by the Act. This means it becomes an offence to do something likely to harm them significantly, unless one obtains permission to do so (see stream three).

Because this is a national law, the values protected are predominantly things of high significance, such as World Heritage places or nationally-threatened species. Hence the term for many of them is ‘matters of national environmental significance’ (or MNES).

Apart from MNES, some values are there because they fall into categories that are protected by federal law alone. For example, marine species are included because the jurisdiction of the Australian states ends three nautical miles from the coast, while our Exclusive Economic Zone goes out 200 nautical miles.

The second stream is about planning for conservation. The Act doesn’t just cover planning connected to MNES and Commonwealth areas. It also provides for bioregional plans across the continent and its territorial sea, although with the major qualifier that for a region within a state (ie most of terrestrial Australia), the plans can only be done in cooperation with that state.

So far, there haven’t been any bioregional plans done with states, something I’ll discuss in another blog.

The third stream is about assessing and approving things that might harm the environmental values protected by the Act, or in the case of trade, the environment generally. The best known component in the third stream is project-based environmental impact assessment, but there is also provision for strategic environmental assessment of development.

This stream also covers assessment and approval of trade in species, whether these be endangered species under the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES), native species for export or exotics for import.

Putting the parts together

Despite the complexity of the Act, its components do seem to fit relatively comfortably into these three broad streams. These are based on the protection and conservation of many of Australia’s most important environmental values, plus the power to assess and, if appropriate, approve (usually subject to conditions) developments that might harm what is protected and conserved.

In the broad this seems like a reasonable approach to looking after the environment while allowing for development. However, as I’ll explain in future blogs, there’s devil in the detail. In its current form, the framework does not realise its potential.

Have we bitten off more than we can chew?

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Joining the dots on Sustainability Bites

By David Salt

“A real engagement with sustainability has bite.” That was our contention when we (Peter and I) began this blog. Well, have we demonstrated that in our efforts so far? And have our reflections generated any useful insights, is the whole greater than the sum of its parts? With 33 ‘bites’ now under our belt, I thought I’d take a look over what we’ve discussed so far and see if any themes are emerging.

If you read our blog’s ‘about’ page (which we haven’t touched since we began) you’ll see we had our own ideas on what ‘Sustainability Bites’ means. We said: “There are no absolute rights or wrongs in this debate on sustainability, but there are serious trade-offs and important consequences resulting from the decisions we make, and the way we make them.”

Those consequences are, if you like, the ‘bites’ of which we speak.

Governments will always sell their policy formulations as ‘win-win’ propositions but this is simply politically expedient fiction. There will always be ‘losers’ in any policy change and when it comes to sustainability those with most to lose are often big and influential ‘actors’ with considerable power in government decision making. Their vested interest in sustaining the status quo means the interests of future generations are forgotten. The present trumps the future.

33 bites, 5 emerging themes

The other meaning of the title of our blog is that we aim to serve up short, bite-sized stories on sustainability; stories based on emerging news and/or our research on various elements of the policy and science of sustainable development. So far we’ve produced 33 bites, roughly one per week since the beginning of 2019. I’ve listed these stories at the end of this blog in the order they appeared (Appendix 1) with links to each piece if you see something that catches your interest that you may have missed first time round (or maybe you only started following us recently).

Going through that list I see five themes constantly emerging:
1. The challenge of change (and the importance of crisis);
2. The culture of science (and its failure to influence policy);
3. The burden of politics and ideology (frustrating the development of good policy);
4. The value of good policy; and
5. The importance of history.

Of course, these themes arise from our interests in the sustainability sector. Peter comes from a policy background whereas I have been communicating conservation science for many years. However, I feel we have discussed enough examples to provide compelling evidence that these emerging themes are important (we would contend central) to any engagement with sustainability.

I have indicated in appendix 1 where a ‘bite’ is predominantly aimed at one of these themes should you want to read further. Many bites, of course, cross several themes.

And here are a few comments on each.

1. The challenge of change (and the importance of crisis)

Achieving enduring change is hard. Often it’s politically impossible. Vested interests, competing ideologies and weak governance frequently conspire to defeat our best intentions.

The more we (Peter and I) have pondered this point the more it seems the only way enduring change is achieved is through crisis. The status quo needs some form of disturbance to weaken its hold to enable a change in rules to occur.

Of course, there are many things you can do in the absence of a crisis and several of these we discuss. Importantly, when a crisis does occur, make sure there are effective policy solutions available to be deployed. ‘Never let a good crisis go to waste.’

2. The culture of science (and its failure to influence policy)

Scientists gather evidence to better understand the world and inform our choices. Politicians gather evidence to maximize their electoral return (power). Often this involves the politician selling an ideology or plan which usually leads to presenting evidence to justify a specific idea or refutes a competing ideology. In other words, science and politics are antithetical in their process (something that both sides rarely acknowledge).

But it’s not just that politicians fail to act on what science is telling us; they simultaneously use science as an excuse for not acting on the clear and growing threat of global change. They hold up the promise and power of technology as something that will save us when things get too bad, thereby enabling them to ignore the risk (and implement appropriate policy) today.

It’s really quite perverse. Our leaders often ignore the science that undermines their (political) position but then hide behind the promise of science in defending the consequences of that position.

3. The burden of politics and ideology

The biggest obstacle to meaningful policy reform for sustainability is the inertia of the status quo, and this inertia is based on the politics of self-interest and short termism. It might be that the politics is driven by ideology or it might be that ideology is used as a weapon of power to shore up the politics. In many ways it doesn’t matter which, as both situations add up to today’s vested interests stopping the consideration of the future.

I would note that Peter and I both used our first blog in this series to talk about Conservative ideology. Peter spoke about sustainability actually being a central tenet of mainstream Conservative philosophy (the notion of the good steward). And I discussed how climate denialism was consistent with a Libertarian hatred of big government and constraints on personal freedoms.

4. The value of good policy

There are many policy tools available to government to tackle issues relating to sustainability. For example, Peter devoted several blogs to exploring environmental accounts and environmental impact studies. He also discussed the role and value of the Productivity Commission and the Sustainability Development Goals (and several other policy institutions as well).

In all cases, these processes and institutions developed valuable ideas and assessments that ultimately failed to deliver real advances in sustainable development, not because they were flawed in themselves but because they weren’t implemented properly or integrated with other policy sectors.

A good policy poorly implemented can, in some ways, be worse than no policy at all because it gives the impression that a problem is being dealt with when it’s not, while the underlying problem just gets worse.

5. The importance of history

To understand why a good policy is not implemented in an appropriate way, or why ideology so often trumps rationality, it’s important to understand the historical context and development of an idea or process. Many of the stories we have examined have long histories, and to understand why something works as it does it’s necessary to see from where it came and how it has changed.

Sustainable development is a complex and dynamic field, hardly surprising given we live in a complex and dynamic world. Many of our reflections have looked back in time to see where something has come from and how it has changed over time. Does this throw any light on the past, present and future of the sustainability project? We think so, and in support of this claim I give you a timeline of what we have discussed so far (Appendix 2).

Of course, this is hardly a comprehensive treatise on the development of sustainability. It’s more a patchwork of ideas, a palimpsest of policy intent. But it’s not a bad start.

And we hope to fill in this patchy tapestry of ideas with greater detail as we chew on more bites in the future.

Image by vegasita from Pixabay

Appendix 1: 33 Bites [in order of appearance with main themes in brackets]

1. Environmental Sustainability: a thoroughly Conservative notion[Ideology; history]
2. Sustainability, ‘big government’ and climate denialism [Ideology, science]
3. Why Can’t We Agree on Fixing the Environment? Tribalism & short termism[Politics, crisis]
4. Wishing for a ‘Goldilocks’ crisis’A crack in the Greenland Ice Sheet [Change, crisis, history]
5. How are we going Australia’s OECD decadal Environmental Report Card [Good policy]

6. Throwing pebbles to make change:is it aim or timing?[Crisis and change]
7. The BIG fixWhy is it so hard [Crisis, politics]
8. Duelling scientists: Science, politics and fish kills [science culture, politics]
9. Making a difference without rocking the boat The FDR Gambit [Crisis, good policy, politics]
10. Throwing pebbles and making waves: Lake Pedder and the Franklin Dam[Crisis, history]

11. Ending duplication in Environmental Impact Assessments [Policy, history]
12. Is science the answer? Technology is not the solution[Science, ideology]
13. Environmental Impact Assessment and info bureacracy [Policy, politics]
14. Confessions of a cheerleader for science: delaying action because science will save us[Science, ideology]
15. Caldwell and NEPA: the birth of Environmental Impact Assessment[History, policy]

16. This febrile environment: elections, cynicism and crisis[Politics, crisis]
17. 20 Year review of the EPBC – Australia’s national environment law [Policy, politics, history]
18. Saving the world’s biodiversity: the failure of the CBD and the need for transformative change[Policy, history, politics]
19. The value of Environmental Impact Assessment [Policy, history]
20. Retreat from reason – nihilism fundamentalism and activism [Ideology, crisis, politics]

21. Too late for no regrets pathway: a pathway to real sustainability[Politics, policy, history]
22. A short history of sustainability: how sustainable development developed[History, policy, crisis]
23. Kenneth Boulding and the spaceman economy: view from Spaceship Earth[History, policy]
24. A real climate change debate: science vs denialism[Science, politics, ideology]
25. Craik Review on green tape: environmental regulation impact on farmers[Policy, politics]

26. Trinity and the dawn of the Anthropocene [History, science]
27. An environmental accounting primer [Policy, history]
28. Displacement activityit’s what you do when you don’t have a real environmental policy [Politics, policy]
29. The Productivity Commission and environmental regulation [Policy, politics]
30. Framing climate change: is it a moral or an economic issue [Politics, ideology]

31. The Sustainable Development Goals: game changer or rehash [Policy, history]
32. The Great Barrier Reef: best managed reef in the world down the drain [Science, policy, politics]
33. Doing the Tesla Stretch electric cars to our economic rescue [Policy, politics]

Appendix 2: The potted timeline of Sustainability Bites

500 BC: Plato comments on the denuded hills of Attica. Five hundred years later Columella argues the need for the ‘everlasting youth’ of Earth. Also in this blog, are discussions on John Locke, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt and Margie Thatcher.
Environmental Sustainability: a thoroughly Conservative notion

1940s till now: Following the ‘reboot’ of WW2, the international community has made many concerted steps to develop a workable strategy for sustainable development.
A short history of sustainability: how sustainable development developed.

1941: Reflecting on how President Roosevelt prepared for war prior to the crisis of Pearl Harbour.
Making a difference without rocking the boat The FDR Gambit

1945: Monday, 16 July, the world’s first atomic bomb is tested, and the Anthropocene begins (the world will never be the same).
Trinity and the dawn of the Anthropocene

1966: New ways of perceiving the environment came to the fore in the 1960s, Boulding’s evocation of a Spaceship Earth was one of the important ones.
Kenneth Boulding and the spaceman economy: view from Spaceship Earth

1969 (and the 1960s): The US drafts its National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA), marking the birth of modern environmental policy (ending a decade in which environmental decline was finally triggering legislative responses)
Caldwell and NEPA: the birth of Environmental Impact Assessment

1970s & 80s: The rise of environmental politics in Australia. It really began with the flooding of a beautiful Tasmanian mountain lake.
Throwing pebbles and making waves: Lake Pedder and the Franklin Dam

1972: Anthony Downs publishes on the ‘issues-attention cycle’
The BIG fixWhy is it so hard [Crisis, politics]

1972/73: The world confronts resource scarcity while simultaneously reflecting on measures of economic welfare. These were the antecedents of the environmental accounts.
An environmental accounting primer

1990s till today: A short history of attempts to reform Environmental Impact Assessment in Australia
Ending duplication in Environmental Impact Assessments

1998: Australia established the Productivity Commission to enhance the government’s efforts improving our economy, society and environment (and probably in that order).
The Productivity Commission and environmental regulation

1999: Australia’s premier national environmental law – the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act – is passed. Twenty years on, it’s in need of a major overhaul.
20 Year review of the EPBC – Australia’s national environment law

2000: The book ‘The Tipping Point’ is released
Throwing pebbles to make change:is it aim or timing?

2005-2009: The United Kingdom shifts from a bland incremental climate policy to an ambitious goal, enshrined in law. That goal is to cut emissions by 80% by 2050.
Too late for no regrets pathway: a pathway to real sustainability

2015: The Sustainable Development Goals are adopted by the UN (following on from Agenda 21 in 1992 and the Millennium Development Goals in 2000).
The Sustainable Development Goals: game changer or rehash

2016/17: The Great Barrier Reef experiences mass bleaching under climate change
Wishing for a ‘Goldilocks’ crisis’A crack in the Greenland Ice Sheet

2017: Ex-Prime Minister Abbott denies climate change to an international forum
Sustainability, ‘big government’ and climate denialism

2017: At the same time that Abbott was denying the existence of climate change, the head of his Church, Pope Francis was saying: “Human-induced climate change is a scientific reality, and its decisive mitigation is a moral and religious imperative for humanity.”
Framing climate change: is it a moral or an economic issue

2019: OECD delivers Australia an environmental report card (this is a process that more could be made of)
How are we going Australia’s OECD decadal Environmental Report Card

2019: Mass fish kills signal the latest impact of severe weather events (exacerbated by climate change)
Duelling scientists: Science, politics and fish kills

2019: Geoengineering is being promoted as a silver bullet for climate change
Is science the answer? Technology is not the solution

2019: UN reports unprecedented losses in biodiversity (bit like similar reports in 2015, 2010, 2005; each worse than the one before)
Saving the world’s biodiversity: the failure of the CBD and the need for transformative change

2019: Australia votes and the Conservatives get back in, a repudiation of the growing calls for environmental policy reform.
Retreat from reason – nihilism fundamentalism and activism

2019: Latest outlook reports show the Great Barrier Reef is dying and government efforts to fix water quality are failing.
The Great Barrier Reef: best managed reef in the world down the drain

Doing the Tesla Stretch

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Electric cars to our economic rescue (with a nudge from government)

By Peter Burnett

New car sales are flat. In Australia we’ve just had the 17th consecutive month of declining sales. Of course, sales do go up and down and there are many reasons for the current dip including tight lending for cars and low consumer confidence.

Sales are also flat in other countries including the United Kingdom, but some commentators are advancing explanations far more significant than tight money and low consumer confidence. For example, the online newsletter MarketsInsider is suggesting that the US may have already passed ‘peak car’ due to generational and disruptive factors such as debt-strapped millennials, ride-hailing apps and self-driving technology.

I don’t know if being debt-strapped is the only factor for millennials, as my own millennial progeny give me the clear sense that cars just don’t have the allure that they did for me and my fellow baby-boomers. But quibbling aside, it seems clear that such disruptive factors are at work.

A Tesla for the market

I also suspect there may be another disruptive factor operating, a by-product of the ‘Tesla Stretch’. The Tesla Stretch refers to the fact that buyers are so keen to have a pure-electric car (ie, a battery-electric vehicle, or ‘BEV’, not a hybrid) that they are willing to pay around $30,000 more than they would normally spend on a new car. People who would never consider buying an entry-level BMW or Mercedes are paying BMW and Mercedes-like prices for the privilege of owning a Tesla, or at least a BEV.

The so-called ‘mass market’ Tesla, the Tesla Model 3, has only just gone on sale in Australia. In fact, the wider market for electric vehicles is only just getting off the ground here and it will be at least another 12 months before fully-electric vehicles are available here in any numbers and at least another couple after that before the cost of an electric vehicles begins to achieve price-parity with conventional internal combustion engine (‘ICE’: don’t you love these acronyms?) vehicles.

Although it’s too early to tell whether the Tesla Stretch will be a real thing here or not, there’s no reason to think Australians will be any different to Americans or Europeans in this regard. Moreover, I think the Tesla Stretch is already having an indirect impact here and that the current drop in car sales is partly the result of its by-product, which might be called the ‘Tesla Strike’.

A Tesla Strike?

The Tesla Strike would be a form of ‘buyers strike’, in which buyers want a BEV but, because they are not readily available, or not available at an affordable price, decide to wait. This flash of insight has come to me because I am one such buyer. My current car is about due for replacement and I’m keen to reduce my environmental footprint. I also like new technology (and cars, although this feels like admitting to being a dinosaur).

In principle, I’m prepared to do the Tesla Stretch, at least to some degree, but none of the handful of BEVs available so far meets my needs and fits my price-range. So, I’ve decided that my current car is my last ICE vehicle and that I’ll just wait.

In a small market like Australia there wouldn’t have to be too many more people like me out there for the Tesla Strike to be a ‘thing’, a phenomenon affecting sales and thus the economy, and calling for policy attention from government. The Government could act to increase the supply of electric cars by removing barriers to market entry, for example by streamlining the certification of electric cars for sale in Australia, introducing training programs in servicing electric cars, or subsidising the installation of recharging infrastructure, anything that would signal to electric car manufacturers that if they commit to supplying us, we’ll commit to giving this technology a long-term future.

Direct subsidies to car buyers might be one policy option but this may not be as effective as removing barriers to market entry. This is because simply increasing demand in the short term, without more, may not give manufacturers an incentive to establish sales and servicing networks here when there is already more than enough demand in larger markets for the BEVs currently available.

Wouldn’t it be ironic if governments, having so far baulked at spending on an electric car transition as an environmental measure, decided to do so as an economic measure?

As a bonus, oil imports would begin to go down, as would carbon emissions, increasingly so as ever-cheaper renewable energy replaces fossil-fuel power in our electricity network.

Ironic or not, for a government focused on the economy, Tesla Stretch surely beats Tesla Strike.

Image by Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

‘Best managed reef in the world’ down the drain

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What’s happening around the Park makes a mockery of our ‘best management’ approach

By David Salt

Is it hubris, arrogance or duplicity when the country’s Minister for the Environment can claim, almost in the same breath, that the Great Barrier Reef is ‘the best managed coral reef ecosystem in the world’ but that the science-based outlook for the Reef’s ecosystem has slipped from ‘poor’ to ‘very poor’? I’m not joking, read her press release (it came out last Friday). How does ‘best management’ produce this outcome?

Well, it might surprise some of our readers to hear that I don’t actually disagree with the claim that the GBR is one of the world’s better managed reefs. It’s one of the world’s biggest marine parks with a significant portion of it off limits to all forms of development (around a third) thanks to the application of world’s best-practice systematic conservation planning. And the management of this world-heritage listed park is supported by a range of relatively well resourced institutions (GBRMPA, AIMS and the Centre of Excellence for Reef Studies to name three).

We monitor it well and in many areas we have led the world on reef science. And that’s as it should be because Australian’s love the Reef and expect our elected representatives to look after it. Economists tell us it’s worth looking after because it employs 64,000 people, generates $6.4 billion each year and has a total asset value of $56 billion.

The shadow of climate change

The trouble is, the looming threats overshadowing the Reef cannot be addressed by best-practice management within the Park’s boundaries. They originate outside of the Park and the Government claims it has limited power to address them.

In 2012, the Australian Institute of Marine Science (AIMS) released a major peer-reviewed study that found the GBR was under significant stress and that it had lost half of its hard coral since 1985. The cause of this decline was threefold: storm damage (48%), outbreaks of Crown-of-Thorns starfish (COTS) (42%) and coral bleaching (10%).

All three threats had connections with climate change but the government (in this case the Federal Government and the Queensland Government who together share responsibility for the Reef) claimed climate change is a global issue beyond its capacity to control. (And, it should be noted, since this report came out the GBR has experienced catastrophic bouts of mass coral bleaching in 2016 and 2017).

No, climate change is something the government won’t buy into but what it says it can do is improve water quality.

Dirty water

Water quality refers to the levels of chemicals, nutrients and sediments ending up in Reef waters along the coast of Queensland. These ‘contaminants’ largely originate from land-based activities such as sugar cane, bananas and pastoralism. Declining water quality has been an issue for the Reef for much of the last three decades.

Poor water quality is a problem because it alters the balance of the Reef ecosystem – promotes outbreaks of coral eating COTS, encourages algae to colonise spaces previously occupied by corals and generally lowers the Reef’s resilience* – it’s ability to recover from disturbance.

Given the government’s impotence in the face of climate change, the strategy it has elected to follow is to focus on aspects it claims it can influence. In other words, clean up water quality by changing land management. We can’t force other countries to behave differently (in respect to climate change) but we do, in theory, have power over how we manage our own landscapes.

The belief is that if water quality can be improved, this will contribute to overall reef health which, in turn, means the reef should recover faster whatever disturbance hits it (including climate related episodes of bleaching and super-charged cyclones).

Interestingly, the same day the Environment Minister released the appalling Reef Outlook report, she also released the 2017 – 2018 Reef Water Quality Report Card which gave a very gloomy prognosis: “Across all Great Barrier Reef catchments, water quality modelling showed a very poor reduction in dissolved inorganic nitrogen (0.3%) and sediment (0.5%). There was also a poor reduction in particulate nitrogen (0.5%).” What was it, bad news Friday or something; put all the garbage out at the same time (and this following on from the latest carbon emissions data showing Australia’s emissions are still rising over several years even though we say we’ll reduce them!).

So, even if we ignore climate change (exposing the moral void of our environmental stewardship), the strategy nominated by the government to protect the reef – improve water quality – is also failing to achieve anything. And this is not an isolated statement, there have been many reports in recent years showing government action is not working in improving water quality.

Why is it so hard to fix water quality? Because it’s very expensive (though a lot less expensive than taking on climate change). The government’s own costing on what is required is $8.2 billion over 10 years, and so far it hasn’t even stumped up a tenth of this.

Rating the reports

This government prides itself on its managerial approach. However, no matter how well the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park is managed, it is a sitting duck facing the coming onslaught of climate-related bleaching events and big storms. The fact that the government can’t even clean up water quality just adds insult to injury.

The science has been saying what we need to do for many years (indeed, see comments by Terry Hughes, one of the world’s foremost experts comments on coral reefs, on the Outlook report) but the government hides behind the notion that because one part of the reef system is managed well (the part inside the Park) then they have met their commitments. But that well managed bit is connected to the land component next door and the greater world surrounding it, and those connections are killing the reef.

So, in light of last week’s horror reports on the Outlook for the Reef and the 2017-2018 Reef Water Quality Report Card, I think it would be fair to rate the Government’s progress as FAIL with the comment: hubristic, arrogant and duplicitous; don’t try to dress up a failure as a good effort because to do so just makes it harder to take the tough decisions that are needed.

*Reef resilience – having co-written two textbooks on resilience science (Resilience Thinking and Resilience Practice) that have played a large role in popularising the concept of resilience, it saddens by enormously to see the idea used by governments as a shield to hide behind when they are unable to engage with the science of climate change.

Image: A reef under stress on multiple fronts (Image ARC Centre of Excellence for Reef Studies)

The Sustainable Development Goals: Game-changer or good-looking rehash?

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From Agenda 21 to the Millennium Development Goals and beyond

By Peter Burnett

Australia, along with most nations in the world, has signed up to the Sustainability Development Goals (or SDGs for short), the UN’s latest effort to broker a pathway forward to a more sustainable future. How are we going in our efforts to meet the SDGs? And, indeed, is there any value in the SDG approach? I’m a tad cynical but the SDGs have definitely put a new face on sustainability.

The value of SDGs came into sharp focus for me last week at a conference in Melbourne titled ‘Why Should the Public Sector Care About Sustainable Development?’ (I think the answer to the conference-title question is simple: our future depends on it.) One of the conference presenters was John Thwaites, former Victorian Deputy Premier and Environment Minister, now a Professorial Fellow and Chair of the National Sustainable Development Council (NSDC), an NGO. John’s topic was the Sustainable Development Goals. Last year the NSDC released a progress report on SDG implementation in Australia, hot on the heels of Australia’s first official progress report.

John spoke with some passion about the value of the SDGs and gave examples of how they were influencing actual decisions by government and non-government bodies alike. Having been more focused on government policy-making, I had not considered his argument that the SDGs were gaining some real traction due to their social influence. So I thought it was time for another look: are the SDGs breathing new life into sustainable development?

Origins of the SDGs

Before answering that question, some history. The SDGs are a set of 17 goals adopted by the United Nations General Assembly in 2015. The UN describes them as a ‘shared blueprint for peace and prosperity for people and the planet’.

You’ve probably seen the catchy 17-tiled SDG infographic, as it gets quite a lot of exposure (see Figure 1).

Figure 1: The 17 Sustainable Development Goals

Countries made their original commitment to sustainable development at the Rio Earth Summit in 1992. The summit adopted the Rio Declaration, which sets out some 27 sustainability principles, along with a 350-page action plan called Agenda 21 (an agenda for the 21st Century).

The problem was that, to get everyone on board, rich countries had to make commitments to poor countries based on a principle of ‘intra-generational equity’. In essence this came down to promising poor countries that they wouldn’t lose the opportunity to develop, and to consume their fair share of the environmental resource pie in doing so, just because the rich countries had already eaten most of it.

Of course, this implied that the rich countries would henceforth constrain their own consumption. With the deal done and the pressure seemingly off, the rich countries went home and, unsurprisingly, did not consume less to free up resources for poor countries. So when everyone met again, at ‘Rio+5’ in New York in 1997, the poor countries objected strongly and the meeting almost collapsed.

The MDGs

Giving up on sustainable development wasn’t really an option. So they had another go, this time endorsing eight Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) to mark the new century. The MDGs focused on poverty, with only one goal embodying a commitment to environmental sustainability*. The target date was 2015.

The MDGs breathed some life back into the sustainability. Real progress was made, though I think this was made possible by allowing the rising tide of economic growth to lift all boats, particularly in China, at the expense of ongoing environmental decline.

In any event, the Rio+20 Conference in 2012 decided that the MDGs warranted follow-on goals, and so the SDGs came to pass. Unlike the MDGs, the SDGs reflect a more even balance between social and environmental goals, with five of seventeen goals having an environmental focus. The SDG’s also have some real substance, with 17 goals supported by 169 targets and 232 indicators.

Australia and the SDGs

The proof of the pudding however is in the eating. Australia’s first implementation report to the UN is simply a compilation of actions taken by governments and others that align with the SDGs. Further, while some good things are reported (eg, the National Disability Insurance Scheme), others are glossed over. The report for example refers to government support for Ramsar wetlands, omitting mention of the small amounts involved. Still other things are trivialised: the section on ‘Sustainable Cities and Communities’ reports that community gardens are increasingly popular, supported by ‘grass-roots’ organisations!

Irrespective of how good the reported measures are, the government makes no claim that the SDGs have driven any change in domestic policy and files its report under ‘aid’ on the DFAT website. Clearly the SDGs are not a game-changer from the government’s point of view.

The NSDC report is more analytical, using a ratings scheme under which Australia scores an overall 6.5/10. While this corresponds to a university ‘credit’ grade, averaging conceals a wide spread of ratings. We are best in looking after ourselves, scoring 8.9 in health and education, and worst at sharing, rating 4.4 on climate action (ie, sharing the Earth’s capacity to absorb pollution with future generations) and 4.3 on reduced inequalities.

Are the SDGs making a difference?

I’m sure John is right and that the SDGs are gaining some traction, including in ways not readily measured. But is that influence putting a dent in the underlying problem, that we are consuming environmental resources more quickly than nature can replace them?

The NSDC answers this question itself, opening its report with the comment that despite strong economic growth, ‘our children and grandchildren face the prospect of being worse off than we are as a result of increasing inequality, environmental degradation and climate change.’

A key problem is that while the SDGs are new in some respects, they are old in others. The goals, targets and performance measures are new, but the underlying principles are not. The UN Resolution adopting the SDGs in 2015 simply calls up the earlier principles and resolutions, such as those from Rio in 1992. This means that governments (and the rest of us) have no new reason for taking the hard decisions that sustainability requires, to keep the pursuit of economic development within nature’s capacity to replace what we consume.

Trumped by the short term

This is the reason for my cynicism. Because there is nothing new foundationally in the SDGs, short term political imperatives to grow the economy will continue to trump normative or moral obligations to share available resources with future generations and poor countries, no matter how often those obligations are repeated.

I’m sure John Thwaites is right and that the SDGs are making a difference. It’s just that they don’t contain anything that would make a fundamental difference. As a result, I expect that, short of a crisis, we will continue to play the game and report actions that are consistent with the SDGs, without actually changing our ways.

*The MDGs were later endorsed at ‘Rio+10’, the World Summit on Sustainable Development at Johannesburg, 2002. These ‘Rio+’ conferences are now a thing, with Rio+30 due in 2022.

Calling all economists: don’t let the denialists leave you the blame

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Climate change is both an economic AND a moral issue

By David Salt

“Where climate change is a moral issue we Liberals do it tough. Where climate change is an economic issue, as tonight shows, we do very, very well.”

These were Tony Abbott’s parting words on the 18 May 2019 as he conceded defeat at the recent federal elections. The voters in his Warringah electorate had finally tired of his denialist cant, and his wrecking and leaking from the side lines.

But in the ashes of his defeat he still found solace in the fact that while he had lost, his party, the Liberals, had won. They took no credible policy on carbon emissions (or the environment in general) to the election, they backed the development of new coal mines, and they scared the nation that the changes the nation would face under the opposition would cost everyone.

Against all poll-based predications, the Liberals won, and from their (close) victory they claim they have a mandate to ramp up the economic development of our fossil fuel reserves and continue with their non-action on the environmental front (with displacement activity on plastic recycling on the side to cover the void of their inaction).

Economics traduced

So, while Abbott has departed the political stage, possibly his parting observation of how the conservatives should be framing climate change held some truth: ‘Where climate change is framed as an economic issue, the Liberals do very, very well.’

If that’s the case then the once noble science of economics has been traduced – revealed as lacking a moral centre. It is merely a tool (a pawn) in a political game used to instil fear and prejudice in a jittery electorate.

Climate change is big – indeed it’s massive – but it’s also amorphous, uncertain and lies in our future (even though its impacts are starting to be felt). With clever economic framing it’s easy to convince people that the deep, transformative change that the world’s scientists say we need comes with ‘unacceptable’ short term costs. This is the exact game the Liberal party has been playing.

Indeed, the Liberals line in the run up to the last election was that their climate policies met their climate commitments “without wrecking the economy” and they released economic modelling suggesting Labor’s 45% target would cost the economy billions. The Liberals climate commitments have been shown time and again to be inadequate and their modelling of Labor’s higher target have been widely debunked.

It was a climate campaign based on fear and deception, and it seems that it worked in that it convinced voters the short term costs outweighed any longer term benefits. And then the government’s biggest denier (in the form of its past leader Tony Abbott) claimed it was simply an economics framing.

Stand up and be counted!

Well, I say to economists everywhere, please don’t accept this. Your science is based on rationality, public welfare and moral outcomes. Don’t allow conservatives to hide behind the economic façade of short term optimisation. Don’t allow them to sell your science as a reason to turn our back on climate change.

Of course, economists are some of the biggest supporters of meaningful action on climate change. And, truth to tell, there are real dangers in raising any issue to the status of a moral crisis.

In 2007 one of the world’s leading economists, Sir Nicholas Stern, told the world that “climate change is a result of the greatest market failure the world has seen.”

“The evidence on the seriousness of the risks from inaction or delayed action is now overwhelming. We risk damages on a scale larger than the two world wars of the last century. The problem is global and the response must be a collaboration on a global scale,” said Stern.

Our own Prime Minister at the time, Kevin Rudd, then chimed in on this rising tide of concern by labelling climate change as “the great moral challenge of our generation.” But then he seemed to squib on his commitment as soon as it hit resistance in parliament (resistance led by Tony Abbott). Surely the ‘great moral challenge of our generation’ was worthy of a bit of a fight.

But with major ecosystems failing, mass extinctions on the increase and Pacific nations drowning under rising seas, there can be no doubt that climate change is the great moral challenge of our generation. It’s also the great ecological, economic and social issue of our times, and experts from all areas should be standing up and demanding our political leaders see it as such.

For a past prime minister (Tony Abbott) to claim otherwise is immoral. To claim legitimacy for his party’s denialism by hiding it behind the cloak of economics is deceitful but in that he invoked economics it’s beholden on economists everywhere to set the record straight.

But the last word goes to the Pope

And another little postscript on Abbott’s election night epiphany. He began by pointing out that ‘where climate change is a moral issue the Liberals do it tough’. Where is Abbott’s moral centre in this debate? As a self-professed Catholic of deep faith, what does he make of Pope Francis’ declaration (coincidently also made in May this year). Pope Francis said: “We continue along old paths because we are trapped by our faulty accounting and by the corruption of vested interests. We still reckon as profit what threatens our very survival.” From this perspective, the Liberals economic framing is revealed to be merely faulty accounting and corrupt.

Not that Abbott has ever shown the moral fortitude of the leader of his Church. At the same time that Abbott was telling the world that climate change was not something to worry about, Pope Francis is on the record as saying: “Human-induced climate change is a scientific reality, and its decisive mitigation is a moral and religious imperative for humanity.”

Image byPete Linforth fromPixabay

Environmental regulation and the Productivity Commission

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Is ‘efficiency’ the sole solution to the challenge of ‘sustainability’?

By Peter Burnett

Last week the Australian Government announced a new inquiry by the Productivity Commission (PC) into regulation of the resources sector. While not confined to environmental regulation, in announcing the review Treasurer Josh Frydenberg made specific reference to improving the efficiency of environmental approvals to reduce the ‘regulatory burden’ on business. Frydenberg also said that the review would complement the forthcoming statutory review of national environmental protection law, the Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act. (For more on this review, see my recent blog).

In his media release, Frydenberg repeated the mantra of recent governments: that the aim was to ensure that projects were assessed efficiently while ‘upholding robust environmental standards’. This largely reflects the terms of reference of the PC inquiry, which talk of removing unnecessary costs while ‘ensuring robust protections for the environment are maintained’.

The week before the inquiry was announced, the new chair of the Minerals Council of Australia, Helen Coonan (a former Howard Government minister), identified efficient regulation as one of her top priorities. She claimed that if project approvals were sped up by one year, this would release some $160 billion and 69,000 jobs to the economy. I’m not sure where this figure came from, but it may have been based on a PC inquiry into the upstream oil and gas industry in 2009, which estimated that expediting the regulatory approval process for a major project by one year could increase its net present value by up to 18%. In any event, that’s a juicy target for efficiency savings.

The PC’s role on sustainability

On its website, the PC advertises itself as ‘providing independent research and advice to Government on economic, social and environmental issues affecting the welfare of Australians’. That’s not bad for a slogan but the substance is a little more complicated.

Under the Productivity Commission Act 1998 the substantive functions of the PC are all cast in terms of industry development and productivity. And the PC’s statutory policy guidelines, to which it must have regard, are dominated by considerations of improving economic performance through higher productivity; reducing regulation and increasing efficiency.

The statutory guidelines do, however, include considerations relevant to sustainability. Beyond a direct reference to the need ‘to ensure that industry develops in a way that is ecologically sustainable’, there are also references to other things connected to sustainability such as regional development; avoiding hardship from structural change; and meeting Australia’s international obligations. Further, one of the Commissioners must be experienced in sustainability and conservation while another must be experienced in social issues.

So, while the PC is definitely about efficiency and growth, it doesn’t have a one-track mind. Environmental and social impacts are definitely members of the cast, though in supporting roles. As we’ll see below, the problem doesn’t seem to be the PC but what the government does or doesn’t do with its recommendations.

We’ve been here before

Industry keeps complaining about inefficiency and duplication in environmental regulation, and governments keep returning to this theme, often through references to the PC. In recent years, in addition to sector-specific reports on regulation (including environmental regulation) of transport, agriculture, fisheries, water, upstream oil and gas, and mineral exploration, the PC has produced general reports on native vegetation and biodiversity regulation (2004); planning, zoning and development assessment (2011); COAG’s regulatory reform agenda including environmental regulation (2012); and major project assessment (2013).

This is in addition to the statutory review of the EPBC Act itself by Allan Hawke in 2009, which also included significant recommendations for regulatory streamlining.

The PC has also conducted other relevant review activities, such as convening a roundtable on Promoting Better Environmental Outcomes (2009).

And it looks like we’ll do it again

The terms of reference for this latest review focus on identifying practices for project approval that have led to streamlining the process without compromising environmental standards. This is rather unimaginative and I think will simply lead the PC back to places it has already gone, such as recommending increased use of regional plans and other landscape scale approaches; increased regulatory guidance; and a single national threatened species list.

In response to past recommendations, governments have done some of all these things. For example, there is a process underway to adopt a common assessment method for threatened species listings.

But governments don’t seem to tackle the issues in a fulsome and vigorous way, to deal with them once and for all. In fact, they attempt to walk on both sides of the street, pursuing reforms in an incremental way while simultaneously cutting environment department budgets. On this basis, one must even question their appetite for reform.

So much at stake

So is environmental regulation just a convenient whipping boy? There’s so much at stake that I don’t think so. Perhaps governments are wedged between their own policies and the politics: they don’t want to increase spending and can’t be seen to water down existing standards, yet remain frustrated by the processes that those standards bring with them.

If governments want real improvements to regulatory efficiency, without simply winding environmental laws back, they have to front-load the regulatory process with information and guidance and resources, ie with things that the PC and others have already recommended. These boil down pretty much to landscape-scale approaches such as regional planning (done comprehensively) supported by increased levels of regulatory service, including detailed guidance on what will and won’t be approved.

It’s not rocket science, but it will take serious money. But keep in mind that such an investment would lead to saving even more serious money.

And there’s an incidental benefit in such an approach. Proper environmental information and planning will also improve the quality of decision-making, which should improve environmental outcomes.

Image: Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Nothing to see here

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Displacement is the game when you have nothing really to say (on the environment)

By David Salt

‘How good is the environment?’

Well, by any objective measure it’s in serious trouble and getting worse. But what do you say if your policies aren’t prepared to acknowledge this?

As our national government, you’re in charge of protecting the environment. You’re faced with collapsing ecosystems, declining biodiversity and a rising toll from climate extremes. In spite of this, you’ve made cut after cut to your Environment Department, told everyone Australia is going to make our carbon emission targets ‘at a canter’ (despite all the hard evidence that emissions are actually going up) and repeatedly stated when it comes to the environment everything is sweet. It’s getting harder to sustain this line but you have to say (and do) something. So, what will it be?

Based on what our Environment Minister is saying in Parliament in answer to questions from her own side, the game appears to be to focus on the little picture and displace everyone’s attention.

A tiny agenda

‘Questions without notice’ are supposed to be an opportunity for members to raise important issues relating to their electorates. Unfortunately, they have largely become political theatre in which the major parties just try to embarrass each other.

Under Question-Time rules, government members are allowed to ask questions of their own side. These are called ‘Dorothy Dixers’, after a famous syndicated column in womens’ magazines, ‘Dear Dorothy Dix’, in which ‘Dorothy’ played agony aunt to her readers and provided homespun advice on marriage and the other challenges of home life.

When the government gets a Dorothy Dixer (or ‘Dixers’ as the insiders call them) it’s an opportunity for the government to use a rehearsed question from a friendly questioner to spell out its strategy and agenda, often in the context of announcing (or re-announcing) the spending of money. So when the Minister for the Environment is asked by her own side what’s on the environmental agenda we get a good idea on what the Government is setting out to achieve, what its grand vision is, including how it intends to spend our money.

In recent weeks, that vision seems to consist of small community projects – “it’s supporting grassroots organisations working on small projects that make a big difference”; a bit of environmental restoration, a bit more on soil conservation (God bless our farmers) and a big focus on increasing recycling and reducing waste. (Note: the links in this paragraph take you to the Hansard record of Parliament for the day in question – 23, 30 & 31 July in these cases – but not to the specific answers in the Questions-Without-Notice sessions that I’m referring to. Why Hansard can’t provide specific links to specific answers I don’t know. Maybe to make it harder to pin Ministers down to their answers.)

Indeed, recycling and waste reduction seem to be this government’s big ticket item when it comes to the Environment: “We can’t opt out of modern living or the modern world,” says Sussan Ley, our new Environment Minister, “but we can get smarter about the way we live and the pressure we place on our environment, and about doing everything we can to mitigate that—reducing waste, increasing recycling.”

We don’t need to save the reef (?)

They’ve even appointed an ‘envoy for the reef’ in the form of Warren Entsch (Member for Leichhardt in far north Queensland) who has refused to acknowledge the imminent threat of climate change to the Great Barrier Reef instead citing plastics as being the big problem and increased recycling as the solution.

“We don’t need to save the reef,” Entsch said recently in The Guardian. “It’s still going – we need to manage it and manage it well and we’re the best reef managers in the world.”

So what is his (and this Government’s) solution to saving the Reef? Get rid of single-use plastics. Though, when it comes down to it, our political leaders don’t even believe Australia is the cause of this problem: “the bulk of it [plastic] on our seas comes down from our northern neighbours,” says Entsch. “If we can create world’s best practice and get them to clean up their own backyard then we will reduce the volumes that come down to us.”

What about cleaning up our own backyard, Mr Reef Envoy? Have you read any of the voluminous science coming out over recent years telling us our reef is dying (from declining water quality, increased storm activity, increased outbreaks of crown-of-thorn starfish and, multiplying every threat, climate change)?

“Australians care about our environment,” says Environment Minister Ley. “They want to be involved in protecting it now and into the future. The Morrison government will work internationally and with communities, with local organisations and with our scientific experts to address all of the issues that confront us, large and small, including Asia-Pacific rainforest recovery, blue carbon and sequestering carbon in our coastal and marine ecosystems, and we will continue to invest in protecting the Great Barrier Reef.”

Nice words, but it’s such shallow rhetoric. When it comes to our environment, the government only pays lip service to the big issues, and only engages in doing things that are too small to make much difference overall. All the while it ignores and marginalises the scientific expertise it claims to respect.

High opportunity cost

This is displacement activity of the worse type because the opportunity cost of ignoring the bigger picture – trashing the evidence and degrading our environmental capacity – is the horrible cost of environmental failure our society (and children) will bear down the line.

And, even as I write this, the Government is doing more displacement on the environmentally linked sector of energy – let’s set up an enquiry on nuclear energy to show we mean business.

Nothing to see here.

Image: Tane Sinclair-Taylor, Centre of Excellence for Coral Reef Studies

An ‘environmental accounting’ primer

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What is it? (and why should we use it?)

By Peter Burnett

‘Environmental accounting’ (or ‘environmental-economic accounting’ to use its full name) is, on first blush, a dry-as-dust topic. Yet the ideas behind it and the insights it unlocks are fundamental to good environmental governance and a meaningful shift towards sustainability. That’s in part why Australia’s governments adopted a national strategy, or at least a common national approach, to environmental accounting in 2018.

Recently I attended a workshop in Brisbane on environmental accounting* hosted by state and federal governments. The workshop was lively and well-attended, with many more participants asking to be part of the discussions than had been originally invited. Clearly the value of environmental accounting is beginning to be acknowledged across multiple sectors.

But the development of environmental accounting didn’t happen overnight. Its gestation took over half a century with some of its central concepts going back centuries. What’s more, a lot more needs to happen before its full potential is realised.

Origins

Environmental accounting can be traced back to the 1970s when several countries, including Norway and France, developed what was then described as ‘natural resource accounting’, or in the case of France, ‘patrimonial accounting’, as part of their response to the emergent major environmental concerns of that era. There were also fears associated with resource scarcity arising from the oil crisis of 1973. These accounts were kept in physical terms.

At about the same time, economists William Nordhaus and James Tobin (later to be Nobel laureates) wrote a seminal paper highlighting the shortcomings of GDP as an economic indicator. They argued for a ‘Measure of Economic Welfare’ (MEW) that subtracted consumption of capital, including ‘environmental capital’, from domestic product. This is because treating consumed capital as income creates an inflated sense of well-being in the short term but is unsustainable over the longer term. Implementing a MEW would require the inclusion in national accounts of figures for the consumption of environmental or ‘natural’ capital, expressed in monetary terms.

During the 1980s the United Nations Environment Program (UNEP) and the World Bank ran workshops aimed at linking environmental accounting to the System of National Accounts (SNA), an international standard maintained by the UN. This work may have influenced another well-known UN project, the Brundtland Report of 1987, famous for proposing a global goal of ‘sustainable development’.

Brundtland placed great emphasis on policy integration as essential to achieving sustainable development. Although Brundtland did not go on to recommend environmental accounting per se, it did couch some of its arguments in economic and accounting terms, referring for example to ‘overdrawn environmental resource accounts’ and the need to maintain the stock of ‘ecological capital’. Given the implicit connections made in Brundtland, it’s probably no coincidence that Agenda 21, the action plan adopted by the subsequent Rio Earth Summit of 1992, linked accounting and sustainability directly by including a commitment to develop integrated environmental and economic accounting as ‘a first step towards the integration of sustainability into economic management’.

With Agenda 21 providing a mandate, the UN soon published a handbook on integrated environmental and economic accounting in 1993. However, it took a further 20 years to develop the handbook into a full international accounting standard and even then the scope of the standard was confined to traditional natural resources, with ecosystem accounting relegated to a supporting ‘experimental’ framework. The UN is scheduled to consider adopting a revised version of this experimental framework as a full international accounting standard in 2021. I hope this indeed occurs, but it reflects how long these processes take. The gestation period for this work is nearly 30 years!

Delay aside, a key innovation of the resulting System of Environmental-Economic Accounts (SEEA) is the concept of ‘combined presentation’, the ability to produce accounts expressed in either physical or monetary terms, or both. This allows accounts to support two streams of work: 1. the integration of environmental consumption into national accounting and
2. the use of physical accounts to inform environmental management.

Why bother?

As national accounting informs economic decision-making, the rationale for environmental accounting in monetary terms is clear. But why bother with physical accounting, other than as an intermediate step to monetary accounts? The answer lies in two developments, one in the late 1960s and the other going back to medieval times.

Concerns about the extent of environmental decline had been growing steadily through the 1960s. In 1969** two resource economists, Robert Ayers and Allen Kneese made a profound observation concerning environmental ‘externalities’ (externalities are the costs or benefits affecting persons not party to an economic transaction). Their observation was that if environmental externalities could no longer be regarded as exceptions, but were more the norm, then good economic decision-making required a ‘materials balance’; that is, a full recording and accounting for environmental impacts, in physical terms. Implicitly, Ayers and Kneese had just made the case for environmental accounts.

The other development foundational to the case for environmental accounting is the concept of the ‘double entry’, which goes back at least to the medieval ‘Venetian method’ of book-keeping. Double entry recognises that almost all transactions involve both a gain and a loss. In purchasing equipment for example, a business gains the equipment but loses the money used to pay for it, so it records both the gain and the loss in separate ledgers, one for equipment and one for cash. Moreover, accounting links the two aspects of the transaction, showing that this purchase in the equipment ledger was paid for with this payment, and correspondingly that this payment was attributable to that equipment purchase.

Stocks and flows

Environmental accounting builds on the parallels between our interactions with each other in business and our interactions with the environment. Just as business accounting tracks the stocks of business assets and liabilities, and the flows of business receipts and expenditure, recording the net change in capital at year’s end, so environmental accounting tracks the stocks of environmental assets (and liabilities, eg pollutants) and the flows of ecosystem services (and expenditure on ecosystem maintenance), recording the net change in natural capital each year.

Moreover, environmental accounts record the transaction from both society’s end and the environment’s end, making it ‘quadruple entry’. As a result, environmental accounts can show for example that this flow of ecosystem services to society came from that environmental asset, depleting it by this much, but that the depletion was offset by that degree of natural replenishment and this much environmental maintenance. This capacity to link transactions so specifically to their causes and impacts is what makes accounting a powerful tool for environmental analysis and decision-making.

What next?

Environmental accounting is starting to build significant momentum in Australia. As this work is still in its infancy, despite its long gestation, the ongoing work under way nationally and internationally to develop accounting standards and protocols remains important. More important however is the need to pay extra attention to, pardon the pun, the other side of the ledger, the application of accounts for better decision-making. I will cover this in a future article.

* The Brisbane workshop on environmental accounting brought together a number of researchers to present their work on the development or application of accounts. For example, Victoria presented their work on using accounts to identify the ecosystem services provided by forests.

**1969 is big in the news at the moment with the 50th anniversary of the Moon landing. It seems strange to me that so much attention is paid to this triumph of technology; while so little attention has been given to 1969 as the dawn of modern environmental policy. Beyond the analytical insights of Robert Ayers and Allen Kneese, 1969 also marked the passage of the world’s first comprehensive environmental law the US National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA), thanks significantly to the efforts of Professor Lynton Caldwell.

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Trinity and the dawn of the Anthropocene

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Reflecting on the moment the world changed

By David Salt

Seventy four years ago, at 5.29am on Monday 16th of July 1945, the US military detonated the world’s first atomic bomb. Code named Trinity, the test was run out on a lonely New Mexican desert on an air force bombing range. Small by the standards of later tests, Trinity still managed to light up the surrounding mountains brighter than day, fuse the sand underneath it into radioactive green glass and generate a shock wave felt over 160 km away.

Yet the significance of Trinity extends way beyond that New Mexican desert, and even beyond the end of the Second World War which, with the aid of atomic weapons, was now only weeks away.

By some reckonings, 5.29am on Monday 16th of July 1945, marks the beginning of a new geological epoch – the Anthropocene, the age of humans. Seventy four years on, the trajectory of the Anthropocene should be at the fore front of all our thinking.

Written in stone

The Anthropocene is not yet an ‘official’ geological time period. Such decisions require a formal review and proclamation by the International Commission on Stratigraphy (ICS), a fairly conservative scientific panel not keen on mixing their science with fashion and politics (and the ‘Anthropocene’ is jam packed with political ramifications).

According to the ICS, planet Earth is still officially in what’s known as the Holocene Epoch, which began after the last ice age ended some 12,000 years ago.

But many scientists have been unhappy with the title ‘Holocene’ believing human activity is now dominating the Earth system, and this should be reflected in the stratigraphic nomenclature – the Earth’s geological rock strata reflecting the deep history of our planet. The name ‘Anthropocene’ was proposed by the atmospheric chemist (and Nobel laureate) Paul Crutzen back in the year 2000.

For a new geological epoch to be declared the rock strata above a proposed boundary needs to distinctly different from those below, suggesting some major change in the processes that created them. But this difference also needs to be evident all around the world, indicating that the change is global and not merely regional in character.

Can human activity be seen in the geological record? You betcha! Particles of plastics, concrete and aluminium, all of undeniable human origin are now widespread around the planet and found in today’s emerging strata. But possibly the most undeniable material of human origin being found in the strata are radionuclides from atomic bombs, beginning with Trinity in 1945. Nothing like these substances had existed on Earth prior to 1945, but now they coat the planet.

While the radionuclides serve as an easily detectable marker, they only exist in trace quantities. Other artificial materials are so abundant we’re drowning in them. The total amount of concrete that humanity has produced, most of it in the post-1950 period, amounts to about a kilogram for every square metre across the entire surface of the Earth. The amount of plastic wrap produced since 1950 is enough to cover the entire planet in plastic. And enough aluminium foil has been manufactured to wrap the continent of Australia.

All of these stratigraphic markers begin to appear in significant amounts around the middle of the 20th century. This coincides with a time that is now commonly referred to as the Great Acceleration, a period of unparalleled economic growth and development. And it wasn’t just plastic production that skyrocketed; so too did water use, energy use, fertilizer consumption, international tourism, dam construction and paper production. Underpinning it all was a swelling human population and an insatiable drive to grow the economy.

When did the Anthropocene begin?

When Crutzen first began writing about the Anthropocene with colleagues he proposed that it began with the invention of the steam engine and the Industrial Revolution from the second half of the 18th Century. This was because this period coincided with increasing levels of carbon dioxide associated with greater levels of coal consumption.

Other scholars have suggested the Anthropocence began much earlier, back with the Agricultural Revolution some 5-8000 years ago. The spread of agriculture also led to increased greenhouse gas emissions through changes in land management.

Others have suggested even earlier dates with human making their mark through the extinction of mega fauna in areas where they appeared.

Each proposal for the beginning of the Anthropocene has its strengths and weaknesses depending on your frame of reference.

From an Earth systems perspective, however, it is only from 1950s that the cumulative impact of human activity began to distort the Earth system itself. Humanity was changing the very behaviour of our planet. None of the earlier ‘start’ dates can claim this.

And, when you combine this with the crystal clear signal of radionuclides and their sudden appearance, I believe Trinity is the best candidate for the opening of this latest planet-shifting epoch – the Anthropocene. The fact that Trinity also symbolises our ‘mastery’ over matter by unleashing the dangerous power of the atom only reinforces the significance of the 16th of July 1945.

So, 74 years into the Anthropocene, where is it taking us? I don’t think we’ll need another 74 years to find out.

Image: The Anthropocene began with a bang. The Trinity explosion is pictured here 16 milliseconds after the detonation. The highest point of the explosion’s dome in this image is about 200 metres high. (Los Alamos National Laboratory)

Review of ‘green tape’ for farmers throws up old conundrums – but also contains one gem

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By Peter Burnett and Philip Gibbons

Wendy Craik’s review of the impact of national environmental law on farmers (Craik Review) was released quietly late last week by new federal environment minister Sussan Ley, nine months after it was received by her predecessor, Melissa Price. (That law, of course, is the Environmental Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999, or EPBC Act. It’s up for review later this year and for many years farmers have been complaining it places an unfair burden on their agricultural activities.)

Craik is a former Executive Director of the National Farmers’ Federation (NFF) and former head of the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park Authority. She is well respected by government, the farm and conservation sectors.

Useful but mostly problematic

Craik has handed over a good report. The review has produced some useful proposals, including ways to improve environmental information and to align existing research with regulatory objectives.

It does however throw up some old conundrums for government. Maybe this is why its release was delayed till after the election, and then done with little fanfare.

The review recommends keeping farmers informed about what they can and can’t do on their land by investing in environment department services and systems, yet Coalition governments have cut federal environmental resources by 40% in six years (ACF 2019). You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs.

It also prescribes a new $1 billion National Biodiversity Conservation Trust as a remedy for biodiversity decline, an amount exceeding existing funding under the National Landcare Program. Same problem, a good proposal but requiring considerable additional resourcing.

Craik also made a number of recommendations, including nationally-aligned policies and encouraging environmental markets, that would require genuine and ongoing federal-state collaboration on policy, something that has mostly eluded federal and state governments over nearly 50 years of trying.

The conundrums are not confined to the recommendations.

The review found that only 2.7% of the 6000 referrals considered under the EPBC Act have been for agriculture.

This is a striking statistic given nearly 90% of all land clearing in Australia is for agriculture, suggesting that the EPBC Act is significantly under-applied and (from the government’s perspective) an indigestible outcome from a review originating in farmer complaints of regulatory burden.

Ley’s brief media release implies that she will defer responding until completion of a much larger review, the forthcoming second 10-year statutory review of the EPBC Act.

It is little wonder Ley is kicking the can down the road, a decision no doubt aided by current controversy concerning Minister Angus Taylor’s involvement in some of the events behind the review (Guardian 2019).

A gem of an opportunity

There is one recommendation however that presents a gem of an opportunity for immediate action.

One of the triggers for the review was complaints by farmers in the Monaro region of southern NSW about the combined effect of federal and state laws affecting the management of native grasslands on their properties (farmonline 2017).

The review prompted a ‘well-resourced’ offer from NSW that federal and state officials work together on two pilot studies, one in the Monaro, to identify what biodiversity needs protecting under both federal and state law and how to achieve this.

Craik supported the idea, proposing the production of non-statutory regional plans under an independent chair.

The NSW offer is significant. The traditional approach of the states towards federal environmental regulation has been to resist and contain, especially in regard to on-ground management, which the states have seen as their exclusive role and a major bulwark against federal jurisdiction creep.

Previous attempts at regulatory collaboration, such as the ‘one-stop-shop’ for development approvals, have focused on regulatory change negotiated between officials rather than on-ground management and service-delivery, and have been conducted in an atmosphere that was at least lacking in trust, if not adversarial.

A genuine attempt to work together on the ground, along with local stakeholders and twin aims of protecting what is ecologically significant while also making life easier for farmers and other businesses, has much better prospects of building the trust necessary for effective regulation. It would also be a valuable investment in social capital.

Cynics may regard the prospects of successful on-ground collaboration as limited. The problem is, we have tried most of the other options with limited success, especially over time.

The environment continues to decline, dramatically according to the latest UN report. The opportunity to trial collaborative regional planning is too good to leave in the in-tray.

The real climate change debate

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Beliefs trump evidence while the truth disappears in the babble

By David Salt

A few years ago American comedian John Oliver ran a skit on the way most mainstream media run debates on climate change. He lampooned the way they inaccurately portray the debate as a balanced affair in which a climate expert is pitted against a climate skeptic. The viewer sees one person versus one person – a 50:50 debate. But, as Oliver points out, the scientific consensus supporting climate change is an overwhelming 97%. To portray the debate as a 50:50 divide is inappropriate and dangerously biased.

Oliver demonstrates the ludicrousness of this by staging a ‘statistically representative debate’ in which three climate-change deniers argue their cant against 97 climate scientists who drown out the naysayers with their chorus of facts.

It’s a great skit, much loved by climate researchers and science communicators everywhere. If you haven’t seen it, I commend it to you. Indeed, I regularly screen it in a talk I give on ‘science and policy’. And, I note, it’s been watched by well over eight million people with 77,000 giving it the thumbs up with around 3,000 giving it the thumbs down – fairly close to the 97% scientific consensus.

So, having praised Oliver’s efforts, and lauded the skit’s central conceit, I’m now going to call it out for demonstrating two critical weaknesses in the overall effort to communicate the seriousness of climate change; flaws that are hampering current efforts to bring about enduring policy reform.

Belief vs evidence

The first relates to Oliver’s contention that facts are more important than people’s beliefs. He begins by pointing out that a recent Gallup poll found that 1 in 4 Americans are skeptical about the impacts of climate change and think this issue has been exaggerated. Oliver retorts (to much laughter) “who gives a shit, that doesn’t matter; you don’t need people’s opinions on a fact; you might as well have a poll on which figure is bigger, 15 or 5? Or, do owls exist? Or, are there hats?”

But, as we have seen increasingly over recent elections both here and abroad, beliefs do trump facts. We make fun of people’s beliefs, regardless of their relation to evidence, at our peril.

When I looked for stats on current beliefs in the US on climate change I found results from multiple surveys. Most suggested there was a growing acceptance of the reality of climate change, that young people had higher rates of acceptance and believed that governments should be doing more, and that Republican voters had significantly lower rates of belief.

One recent survey by Yale University of over 1000 adults found that a record 73% of Americans polled agreed that global warming was happening, marking a 10% point increase since 2015. The results were trumpeted in Forbes news under the banner New Survey Finds 3 Out Of 4 Americans Accept The Reality Of Climate Change, which is really pretty much the same as the figure quoted in the Oliver skit, just framed in the reverse way (1 in 4 Americans are skeptical about the impacts of climate change).

Speaking with one voice

And the second issue raised in the Oliver skit relates to the cacophony of scientist cries as the ‘statistically representative debate’ gets underway. The point he was trying to make is that the weight of evidence drowns out the denialism if you line them up along the lines of the 97% scientific consensus (97 scientists vs 3 deniers).

But I couldn’t hear any message; it was drowned out in the babble. Indeed, the only line you actually hear is that of the deniers who get the first line in: “Well I just don’t think all the science is in yet and settled,” says the denier. Oliver then asks for what the scientists think and you can’t hear anything from then on as the 97 voices speak out in unison.

So, Oliver’s point is made with comic impact but I think he also highlighted the problem of what the public hears when confronted by multiple voices spewing out endless facts and figures, impenetrable graphs and numbers loaded with dense techno-speak expositing doom and gloom if we don’t dramatically change our ways.

On the other side* is a tiny minority of players (usually representing unstated vested interests with deep and well-funded ideological roots) putting out simple, well-crafted messages of uncertainty, sowing seeds of doubt that, with time, flower into vigorous weeds of denial that prove ever so hard to pull out. Their seductive message is that this whole climate change thing is big and complicated, we’re still figuring out what it means, but we’d be fools to change the status quo while so much uncertainty is present. Let’s do nothing for now, keep the economy growing as we have for the past 50-70 years and some way down the track we’ll fix up the climate if indeed it turns out to be broken. And, if it does need fixing, our wonderful science and market forces will provide the solution.

It just isn’t fair

Scientists live and die by the evidence they generate. In their world facts win and beliefs inevitably bend to the weight of evidence, even if it takes a while. It’s a numbers game; over time the evidence builds and a scientific consensus forms (or shifts).

The scientific consensus on (anthropogenic) climate change has grown and solidified over the past 50 years. There is now no doubt in the world of science as to its reality or consequence, even if a small clique of deniers still warps the media debate. But this clique represents powerful vested interests, and their influence may take more than facts to shift.

Scientists believe their consensus will eventually permeate the societal debate; that, in a rational world, ‘facts’ will squash unfounded belief. But the real world isn’t always rational (or fair), and it doesn’t always conform to the rigorous black and white perspective of its scientific citizens.

*Sowing seeds of doubt is just one of several techniques employed by the climate-change denial lobby/collective. They also peddle conspiracy theories, cherry pick data, employ logical fallacies and set up fake debates. If you’d like to learn more about these dark arts and how they can be resisted, check on the University of Queenslands’ online course called Denial 101: Making Sense of Climate Science Denial. Highly commended.

Image: John Oliver stages a statistically representative debate. See https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjuGCJJUGsg

From ‘cowboy economy’ to ‘spaceman economy’

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Kenneth Boulding and the view from Spaceship Earth

By Peter Burnett

Sustainability is a complex multidisciplinary field, so it’s not surprising that many of its concepts evolved over decades of scholarship and policy development. However, in my research, I have been surprised on several occasions by scholars putting forward valuable framings of sustainability concepts well before the emergence of the notion of sustainable development itself. Kenneth Boulding’s 1966 essay The Economics of the Coming Spaceship Earth is the example par excellence of this phenomenon. Not only did Boulding hit the nail on the head in regards to the nature of the problem, he also framed the way forward in a compelling and lucid way. It’s something we can still learn from today.

Early Boulding

Boulding was a British-American; a professor of economics by title, a social philosopher by inclination and a Quaker by conviction.

He began publishing in the 1930s and had been pushing boundaries long before Spaceship Earth. Influenced by his study of accounting, he had argued in his 1950 book A Reconstruction of Economics that the balance sheet should be a central analytical concept in economics, specifically that asset preferences (stocks) rather than profit maximisation (flows) should be a central to explaining the behaviour of economic entities. It is thus not surprising to find Boulding talking elsewhere about World War II as having ‘drained the economic bathtub in a great waste of consumption’, with the task of post-war reconstruction being to refill the bath.

Boulding argued for a ‘conceptual revolution’ concerning consumption. He believed the emphasis should be on the enjoyment of assets rather than their consumption (or, as Boulding put it, their destruction). Through this lens, production and income should be seen as quantities to be minimised rather than maximised, in the interests of maximum enjoyment. This would have been complete heresy in an era when the idea of unbounded growth was rapidly becoming dominant.

Undaunted, Boulding would make much the same argument a decade and a half later in Spaceship Earth, but this time in connection with the environment.

Spaceship Earth

In 1966 Boulding was invited to write an essay for a forum held by the think tank Resources for the Future (RFF, itself an interesting organisation that played a pivotal role in sustainability thinking). Prompted by growing recognition that most of the pressures on the natural environment were the result of high levels of consumption and economic growth, RFF adopted a forum theme of ‘Environmental Quality in a Growing Economy’. (If RFF had added the word ‘maintaining’ to this theme they would, in essence, have defined environmental sustainability 20 years early: another example of prescient thinking.)

Boulding was a big picture thinker and in 1966 the ‘space race’ and the ‘moonshot’ were the order of the day (as was the sexist language in the quotes that follow). His narrative was that humans were making a long transition in their image of interaction with the environment. This transition involved moving from the ‘cowboy economy’, in which there were vast expanses of resources and an ever-beckoning frontier, to the ‘spaceman economy’, which was a closed system, a single earthly ‘spaceship’ in which man must find his place in a cyclical ecological system that is capable of continuous reproduction but limited by energy inputs from the sun (whether directly as solar radiation or indirectly through fossil fuels).

The measure of success in the cowboy economy was production and consumption (throughput), because reservoirs of resources were effectively infinite. In contrast, the measure of success in the spaceman economy was not throughput but the nature and extent of total capital stock, including human bodies and minds (which we would now call human and intellectual capital). The task in the spaceman economy was thus to maintain the stock, in part by increasing resource-use efficiency. In a masterly understatement, Boulding noted that the idea that both production and consumption were undesirable would be very strange to economists. It would have been to politicians too, who by then had become wedded to the mantra of economic growth and GDP as the only measure of success, as reflected in the OECD’s 1961 target of increasing growth by 50% in a decade!

Sustaining capital in time and space

Boulding describes the sphere of economic activity as the ‘econosphere’ and society as the ‘sociosphere’, with environmental resources passing from the environment into the econosphere and waste passing in the reverse direction. This pretty much captures the later foundational model of ecological economics (figure 1) in which the economy is a subset of, and thus dependent on society, which in turn sits within and depends upon the environment.

Figure 1: The foundational model that lies at the heart of ecological economics.

Boulding recognised that a prescription of maintaining capital for the long haul raises the question of why we should do such a thing, encapsulated in the sardonic aphorism ‘What has posterity ever done for me?’ Rather than pose a normative answer to this question, as nations later did in endorsing the principle of intergenerational equity through the Rio Declaration (1992), Boulding argues an anthropological rationale: that the welfare of the individual depends on identifying with a community, not only in space but over time. In other words, we identify with future generations as part of our own well-being.

Natural capital on Spaceship Earth

The Spaceship Earth essay carries, expressly or by implication, a full theory of, and prescription for, environmental sustainability. It recognises that our attitude to the environment is based on our image of the environment, which thus explains our attitudes. It presages the insights of ecological economics and the policy prescriptions of modern environmental sustainability: maintain natural capital, increase resource efficiency and ensure that the scale of consumption remains within the regenerative capacity of the environment.

Even where Boulding does not solve a problem of sustainability policy, he plants the seed of its solution. For example, he recognises that even if we accept the welfare of future generations as part of our own welfare, it remains economic practice to discount future values. He explains that discounting is based on our myopia concerning the future, which is ‘an illusion which the moral man should not tolerate’.

Although he does not propose a solution, he nevertheless plants the seeds of one in his prescription to maintain capital. In economics, the case for any project is evaluated by cost-benefit analysis, in which future costs are discounted. If the maintaining of capital is a prescribed as fundamental policy, then the case for any individual project, which might otherwise have been justified solely by reference to cost-benefit analysis, must now be made within and subject to a constraint of maintaining capital. In other words, you can discount all you like but your project will be constrained by rules concerning or prices of natural capital.

Beyond Silent Spring

Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring (1963) is generally acknowledged as the foundational work of the modern environmental era. However, Silent Spring identified a particular aspect of the problem of environmental decline and did not develop a solution. Spaceship Earth came a little later, but it was the first to describe the problem in holistic and conceptual terms and the first to outline a policy solution.

The best modern approaches to environmental sustainability can trace a direct lineage to Boulding’s essay and sit entirely within its construct. It is a tour de force.

Image: The Blue Marble, the view from Apollo 17 of Spaceship Earth some 45,000 kilometres distant. (NASA, 1942)

A (very) short history of sustainability

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A mud map of how sustainable development has grown up

By David Salt

For many, sustainability is a buzz word; a descriptor used and abused by governments (and corporations) all around the world to give the impression their policies of economic growth and development are simultaneously meeting the needs of society and the environment. But it’s more than just a hollow catch cry. Sustainability is a concept with substantive meaning and pedigree.

The growing body of evidence, unfortunately, is that our world is not on a trajectory of sustainability. If anything, we are accelerating away from it. However, there was a time, no so long ago, when there appeared to be a growing international consensus that sustainability was a real and achievable goal. When was that? Here is my (very) short potted mud map of sustainability (with a fist full of caveats at the end for me to hide behind).

The Twentieth Century

The Twentieth Century was the century of human domination in which our species ‘conquered’ the final bits of the planet’s surface. We encircled the world with our communication cables (1902), reached its South Pole (1911), ascended to its highest point (Mt Everest, 1953) and then reached even higher with artificial satellites (Sputnik, 1957). We also made a real effort to annihilate many dimensions of our own culture in two world wars.

If the first half of this century was marked by massive global-scale disruptions (two world wars and a Depression) and empire failures (Britain and Japan especially), then the second half was characterised by population and economic growth of unprecedented scale. Population more than doubled, while the global economy increased by more than 15-fold. And it was in this second half that notions of sustainability were developed.

The 1940s: Reboot

My mud map begins in the aftermath of the Second World War; a time of mass destruction, renewal and new beginnings. The aim of governments was growth, stability and the kindling of hope for a prosperous future.

The tremendous economic growth that followed was in large part enabled by the ‘rebooting’ effect of the wars. These broke down old imperial and feudal institutions, opened up space for new institutions based on liberal-democratic and later neo-liberal economic principles, and empowered us with a new suite of powerful science and technology.

Survival was more the consideration than sustainability, but towards the end of the 1940s there was an international push to set aside bits of landscapes for wildlife and nature with the establishment in 1948 of the International Union for the Protection of Nature (which was to become the International Union for the Conservation of Nature, IUCN, in 1956). Economic growth was the main focus and the environment was seen as a space separate from human activity.

The 1950s: Lift off

Today’s economy and environment has direct roots in the explosion in economic growth that took place in the 1950s, the beginning of the so called Great Acceleration. Population, GDP, energy generation, fertiliser consumption, water use and international tourism all underwent dramatic (often exponential) increases as the economy powered up.

The ‘sustainability’ of the environment was not really a question back then. The USA, a major driver of growth, was concerned about the ongoing supply of natural resources, but only as it related to feeding the economy rather than sustaining the environment. It set up a commission, the Paley Commission, which led to the establishment of the NGO called ‘Resources for the Future’. Its brief was to look at resource scarcity issues on an ongoing basis. The great environmental economist David Pearce identifies this as the founding of environmental economics.

The 1960s: Cracks in the model

The economy was growing strongly, living standards for many were improving, the rich were getting richer but the poor were getting less poor. Indeed, during these first decades after the war the gap between the richest and the poorest was decreasing (proof that a rising tide can indeed lift all the boats).

But underneath the growth and the technological mastery, cracks were appearing in the form of environmental decline. These concerns were embodied in the book Silent Spring by Rachel Carson (1962). It drew attention to the accumulating impacts of pesticides on natural ecosystems, and questioned the costs of industrial scale-agriculture.

Technology also gave us new frames for considering humanity’s role and place, with the race for the Moon providing new perspectives, metaphorical and literal, on our planet. Kenneth Boulding coined the term ‘Spaceship Earth’ in a famous essay in 1966 (and in 1968 we saw our fragile home in perspective for the first time in the famous ‘Earth Rising’ photo taken by Apollo 8 astronauts as they orbited the moon).

Concern was growing as case study (eg, acid rain) after case study (eg, contaminated waterways) caused people to question the costs and benefits of economic development. Laws for environmental protection started taking shape and the idea of Environmental Impact Assessment took off (enshrined in US environmental law, NEPA, in 1969); yet the approach that evolved was more a ‘bottom up’ one of minimising impacts on a case by case basis rather than the holistic bigger picture approach that Boulding had advocated and NEPA, read as prose rather than law, clearly embodies.

The 1970s: Hopes are high

1972 saw the publication of landmark report titled Limits to Growth, one of the first formal efforts to understand what the consequences of unbounded economic development might be. Its conclusion was that our species was likely heading for some form of collapse in the mid to latter part of the 21st Century. (While widely dismissed by economists, a review in 2014 of the Limits-to-Growth analysis found its forecasts are still on track.)

The 70s saw many efforts by governments and community groups around the world to address the swelling list of environmental problems falling out of our rapacious growth. Key among these was UN Conference on the Human Environment, also known as the Stockholm Conference, in 1972. It catalysed many activities that were to prove pivotal to the manner in which we dealt with the environment, including many nations setting up their own environment ministries. It also saw the creation of UNEP (the UN Environmental Programme), and it put a greater focus on the connection between society and the environment. The Stockholm Conference was one of the first events where there was a strong acknowledgement of the need for poverty alleviation and its connection with access to environmental resources.

And it was during this decade that the term sustainable development began to see common usage. Indeed, the term was first used officially in the World Conservation Strategy launched in 1980, though at this stage the focus was on the environment alone.

The 1980s: Negotiations are had

‘Sustainable development’ took real form with the release of the report titled Our Common Future by The World Commission on Environment and Development (let by the indefatigable Gro Harlem Brundtland, Norway’s first female Prime Minister) in 1987. The report defined a sustainable society as one that “meets the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs”. It made sustainability an idea that involved acknowledging the linkages between the economy, the environment and society.

The mid 80s also saw the emergence of a massive ozone hole over the south pole (resulting from humans pumping ozone depleting substances into our atmosphere). This went some way to puncturing our complacency about environmental decline. Countries met and negotiated what they would do about the ozone problem, treaties were signed and these days ozone depleting emissions are on the decline.

Not so easily addressed, unfortunately, was the greenhouse gas problem in which a by-product of economic activity (energy, transport and agriculture in particular) was carbon-based emissions that distorted the Earth’s climate systems. Though the science of greenhouse warming was well understood and discussed in scientific circles in the 70s, it actually became visible in the late 80s. (In 1988 Jim Hansen, a leading atmospheric scientist at NASA, declared: “The greenhouse effect has been detected, and it is changing our climate now.”)

The 1990s: Plans are drawn

In 1992 the world came together in Rio for the great Earth Summit in which nations would pledge how they were going to meet the great challenge of sustainability. A plan for sustainable development in the rapidly approaching 21st Century was adopted (Agenda 21) and an international agreement on biodiversity conservation was opened for signing.

Through the 90s the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (formed by UNEP and the WMO in the 80s) began compiling an enormous brief of evidence that greenhouse gas levels were growing remorselessly and creating a raft of problems from shifting climate to sea level rise and extreme weather. But as the fear rose about the need to do something about carbon emissions, vested interests increased their efforts to discredit the science, and obfuscate the emerging picture.

And governments everywhere were discovering that policy positions developed to meet sustainability pledges came with real short term electoral pain, and that the prospect of deep change, transformational change, was simply too much to push through. Sustainable development is a moral imperative but the reality is that sustainability bites. Or, as President Bush said in 1992 at the Rio Earth Summit: “the American way of life is not up for negotiation.”

The 2000s (the Naughties): Sustainability bites

As you’d expect, the beginning of a new millennium saw a lot of reflection, discussion and planning for a better world (a bit like my New Year’s resolutions to be a better person). There was the Millennium Summit in 2000 (and ensuing Ecosystem Assessment in 2005), a Rio+10 Earth Summit (held in Johannesburg in 2002) and a World Summit held in 2005. Millennium Development Goals were drawn up and agreed to, and almost all nations (with the US a notable exception) committed to reversing declines in biodiversity (the Convention on Biological Diversity, CBD).

And the manner in which many governments sought to deliver on their sustainability commitments increasingly invoked utilitarian values, a move supported by an emerging line of conservation science that demonstrated that nature provided benefits to humans that save us money (like native vegetation providing water purification). So, why don’t we start paying for the things that nature gives us, ecosystem services, and let the market optimise the delivery of these services? Some saw this as a dangerous move away from acknowledging nature’s intrinsic value.

But, just like my News Year’s resolutions, it didn’t take long for most governments to begin making excuses for why aspirations (for sustainable development) needed to take second place to the realities of day-to-day life: “as soon as we’ve secured a strong economy we can begin worrying about fixing up the environment.”

Targets adopted under the CBD meant that 2010 was supposed to be the line in the sand for biodiversity conservation but all countries failed to deliver on their commitments with extinction rates climbing and the drivers of extinction only accelerating.

The 2010s: Cracks in the ice cap

Sustainability, however you want to define it (and heaven knows it comes in many flavours), was proving a stubbornly elusive goal. But the negotiations continued.

The world’s nations continued to get together (Rio+20 in 2012, this time in Rio) but failed to agree on any major outcomes other than replacing a failed international body, the Commission on Sustainable Development, with a new one, the UN Environment Assembly); the failed Biodiversity Convention targets were replaced with a more nuanced set of goals (the Aichi Targets); the Millennium Development Goals (which some believed were quite effective while others said were unmeasurable) were replaced with a more nuanced set of sustainability targets (the Sustainable Development Goals); and the stalled climate change discussions actually reached half a consensus with the Paris Agreement (in 2015; though President Trump has since withdrawn from it).

In many ways, it’s the same old, same old; endless meetings, discussions, agreements and targets; one step forward, two steps back, another step forward; but, at the end of the day Bill Clinton’s 1992 election mantra ‘it’s the economy stupid’ sums up the approach of virtually every country. Which sometimes has me wondering that Rachel Carson, Kenneth Boulding and the doomsayers behind ‘Limits to Growth’ were simply wrong. The environment is undoubtedly in decline but we’re still standing, talking and aspiring to better things (most of us are wealthier, but at the expense of future generations). Clearly governments are almost unanimous in believing that the economy is what counts and if things get scarce then markets and technology will always find a solution; they have so far.

But those people calling for reflection and change were not wrong; and the 2010s and the emerging science are emphatically backing their calls for a new way of stewarding Spaceship Earth. We’re losing species and ecosystems that we depend upon. We are seeing changes to our climate and Earth system that are already stressing many parts of our planet (including our food and water systems); and the science tells us these changes are just beginning, promising an increasingly uncertain future. We are losing the challenge of sustainability and it’s not a challenge we can afford to lose.

Caveats and endnotes

This ridiculously short history only touched on a few of the elements that have contributed to the evolution of sustainable development (and only mentioned a couple of the thousands of identities – people and institutions – who have made important contributions to its story). And, clearly, dividing this history into decadal phases doesn’t reflect the real inflection points of its evolution, it is merely my effort to subjugate a complex, non-linear, multi-faceted topic into something that looks like time line with a simple narrative.

However, even the limited set of events described here tells us that the history of sustainable development has gone through life stages with different dynamics. It began as our faith in the economic growth model began to erode and it’s early days kept a tight focus on the environment; as it developed there grew a better appreciation of the connections between society, economy and environment; and as it reached maturity and asked for real commitment from its sponsoring actors, the reality of shifting the status quo has proven that much of its rhetoric is impotent.

In its youth sustainable development was driven by natural science. In its young adulthood, it began to take on it legitimacy from ideas founded in social values, rights and laws. And as it matured it cloaked itself in the robes of economics and markets.

Is it any wonder then that sustainable development is no longer a force for change (if it ever was)? Rather than challenge the paradigm of unbounded economic growth, it has been forced to work within the normative structures that put economic growth before all other goals.

So, if you were a doctor asked to prescribe a change to an ageing man whose life style is clearly leading to a miserable old age, what might you suggest? Because maybe this is the lens we need to look through when considering where to from here for sustainable development. And, maybe, just like our ageing patient, we need to be confronted with some hard truths about what the future holds (unless we sign up for some demanding therapies)?

Image: Earthrise, 25 December 1968. Taken aboard Apollo 8 by Bill Anders. Earth is peeking out from beyond the lunar surface as the first crewed spacecraft circumnavigated the Moon. (NASA)

Regretfully, it’s too late for ‘no-regrets’

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What’s the pathway for real sustainability following the Australian Election?

By Peter Burnett

Like many people, I was surprised by the win for conservative parties in the recent Australian election. I know there were lots of factors in play, but I thought that the extreme weather of last summer in particular had propelled climate change to the top of the political agenda, especially in the minds of young people, who were enrolled to vote in record numbers. I was reinforced in my views by much of the political commentary. Progressive parties seemed to have reached a similar conclusion, campaigning hard as they did on ambitious environmental policy platforms.

How wrong I was

Financial issues, especially proposed tax changes, appear to have weighed more on the minds of voters. The views of one young voter, who appeared on the television show ‘Q&A’ after the election, seemed to me to encapsulate the electoral mood. This voter commented that she was concerned by climate change (and also, she implied, by the expected opprobrium of her climate-voting cohort) but ultimately voted conservatively because of her concerns about the more immediate impacts of progressive party tax policies on her family.

While the election result could be attributed to various one-off factors, from an environmental perspective the underlying problem is that environment continues to be framed as an issue of progressive vs conservative, left vs right. Unless both sides pursue strong environmental policies then we cannot hope to sustain the policies necessary to avert the ‘dangerous climate change’ of the UN Climate Convention, let alone other disasters such as the loss of a million species predicted in the latest report from the Intergovernmental Science-Policy Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services (IPBES).

The divide over environmental policy was not part of the political landscape when environmental concerns first became prominent in the public consciousness in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Rather, it emerged much later as vested interests, realising the implications of the policies necessary to counter environmental decline, pushed back hard, including by framing issues in terms of the ‘environment vs jobs’ dichotomy that reflects the dominant and still-powerful post-war paradigm, that of economic growth as progress.

A clash of paradigms

Can we return to bipartisanship? This would require a shift from a growth paradigm to one of sustainability. In pure policy terms the case for such a shift is clear: the growth paradigm became outdated around 50 years ago, when humans realised that the environment was a limited, rather than unlimited, resource. The sustainability paradigm that emerged in response rests on the recognition that we can only consume nature at the rate at which it renews itself. If we exceed that rate, we are headed for disaster.

In political terms however the case is far from clear. The growth paradigm is based on ‘growing the economic pie’ and gives a ‘win-win’ outcome: grow the pie and you grow every slice, including the slice constituted by government spending on the environment. ‘A rising tide lifts all boats’, as they say.

The sustainability paradigm on the other hand gives a ‘win-lose’ outcome. If we consume to our hearts’ content, we court disaster at the expense of future generations (if not our future selves). If on the other hand we live within our environmental means, we do the right thing by future generations, but at the expense of constraining our own consumption, especially by those who do, or aspire to, consume a lot.

And who wants to give government a mandate to constrain consumption, unless convinced there is no other way to look after their children and grandchildren? Although this has been a logical conclusion to draw for over 50 years, this framing has yet to be adopted generally, in part because so many people have a vested interest in either clinging to the growth paradigm or watering down the sustainability paradigm.

This watered-down version of sustainability is that we can live within our means simply by using environmental resources efficiently, with the bonus outcome that efficient consumption will save us money. Another win-win, achieved for example by switching off lights in empty rooms. We might have got away with such an approach in 1969, but in 2019 it’s far too late for such a ‘no-regrets’ approaches.

It’s time (?)

I argued in an earlier blog that it will probably take a significant environmental crisis to generate the social consensus necessary to support a paradigm shift. I still hold that view, although there is at least one example of a country finding an easier path. In the period 2005-2009, the United Kingdom shifted from a bland incremental climate policy to an ambitious goal, enshrined in law, to an 80% cut in emissions, from a 1990 base, by 2050. There was no crisis, but a confluence of factors conducive to change.

The UK Government had commissioned the influential Stern Review, which argued the economic costs of not acting (Sir Nicholas Stern pointed out that climate change is the “greatest and widest‐ranging market failure ever seen”). Al Gore produced his influential documentary, An Inconvenient Truth (aimed at alerting the public to an increasing ‘planetary emergency’ due to global warming). And future Prime Minister David Cameron wanted to modernise the Conservative Party (then in Opposition) and actually beat the Government to the punch in opting for ambition. And the Global Financial Crisis gave the UK Government an opportunity to present ‘green economy’ measures as a major part of the solution to the crisis.

Whatever the precipitating event, we will only respond effectively to environmental issues when we abandon the growth paradigm in favour of one built around sustainability. If that happened, environmental policy would become much more like foreign policy: generally bipartisan because we are all in favour of Australia being a secure country able to pursue prosperity under an effective international rules-base order. If only Australia had a David Cameron or two (circa 2006 of course, not the Brexit David Cameron).

Image by Mediamodifier from Pixabay

Retreat from reason

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Environmental crisis, existential angst and electoral backlash

By David Salt

The story so far: A climate crisis has been called, the Great Barrier Reef is in the process of collapsing and our great inland waterways are dying. The government doesn’t seem to have a reasonable plan of response and, in any event, a national election is underway and no-one gives them a chance of winning. The opposition party has a more credible emissions target but the government says achieving this target will wreck our economy. The nation votes (18 May 2019) and, against all the polling, the opposition is repudiated and the government is re-elected. What’s the story?

Of course, the election outcome was much more than economics vs environment but I think the widespread anxiety about environmental decline was a major factor. But possibly not in the way many concerned environmentalists may have thought.

Future uncertain

Anyone who is aware of environmental issues is alarmed at the state of the world, be it collapsing biodiversity, wild weather or plastic pollution. Conditions are deteriorating, and in many cases the decline is accelerating. Policy responses so far are inadequate.

But even those people not up on the environment know something is happening. The floods are more brutal, the bushfires more horrendous, the heatwaves more cruel.

And life is increasingly complex. We have a world of information at our fingertips – more info than at any time in history – and more options to choose between. Social media means we’re in contact with everyone 24/7 and there are louder voices shouting at us from all directions. Houses are unaffordable, congestion chokes our cities and anxiety is our biggest growth industry. The future is increasingly uncertain.

What do you do when you have no confidence in the future? Indeed, there are people all around shouting it’s not just an uncertain future we’re facing but an environmental cataclysm (“I want you to feel the fear I feel every day. And act as if your house is on fire. Because it is!” one young climate activist named Greta Thunburg exhorted).

Three pathways from existential angst

I teach and write about environmental science. I am scared of what the future holds, and I’m saddened by the lack action being taken by our elected representatives. I often wonder how people deal with the prospect of a dark future.

A few years ago a colleague of mine (Richard Eckersley) posed a simple typology of responses to fears of the apocalypse. Now, I’m not saying the apocalypse is nigh, but I found his typology a useful model for how we respond to the existential angst associated with an uncertain future.

Richard suggested there were three basic responses: nihilism, fundamentalism or activism.

With nihilism, we basically give up. We’re going to hell in a handbasket and our individual actions don’t seem to make any difference so why care; let’s party till we drop.

But if you don’t want to give up and are prepared to accept the comfort of a simpler model of how the world behaves then maybe fundamentalism is for you. This might be the acceptance of a religious framework setting out what a good life entails (with a guarantee of heaven or paradise when you leave this mortal coil). Or it might be a secular framework of markets solving all our resource issues and creating a rising tide that will eventually lift all the boats.

And then there’s activism. In this response you don’t give up or accept a simpler model; you ‘act’ to make a difference. You think global but act local. You acknowledge the rotten unsustainability of what’s going on around you but you focus on something that you can do, some little bit where you can make a difference; and you hope that everyone else starts doing the same thing.

All roads lead to…

I’ve often wondered about this typology.

Nihilism and fundamentalism, while not saving the world, have a certain rational appeal to them. If the state and trend of the world is making you anxious, depressed and dysfunctional and you feel powerless to do anything then why not look for different ways of engagement. Drop out or sign up.

Activism*, on the other hand, while seemingly a positive response (in Eckersley’s discussion he describes it as ‘hope rules’ and a constructive response), has never seemed as ‘rational’. You can go ahead and make your own backyard a little more sustainable but it’s impossible to ignore that the surrounding neighbourhood is going to the dogs. Activism only salves the angst for so long before the outside reality seeps in and has you reaching for the bottle (nihilism) or the bible (fundamentalism). (Or maybe that’s just me cause I’ve always been a little ‘glass half empty’. I’ve been trying to make my own little difference for decades through engagement with environmental NGOs, and the angst is still rising.)

In truth, I don’t believe anyone goes down one path exclusively. Rather, we all adopt varying degrees of nihilism, fundamentalism and activism simultaneously in all our thought processes. We all want to make a difference through our actions, conform to some normative ideology without too many questions, and sometimes just forget about life and get wasted.

Why do we do this? Because the world is a complex place and that complexity is difficult and painful to deal with. Attempting to reconcile ourselves with that complexity, to fill the gap between our aspirations and what actually happens, creates a cognitive dissonance that wears us down.

To help us cope with this complexity, and the cognitive dissonance it generates, we will often deny that complexity (nihilism), subjugate it with simplistic models (fundamentalism) or just focus on a tiny bit of it to stop from being overwhelmed (activism).

Get real

So what does this have to do with a poor election outcome in Australia for the environment? To my mind a lot.

The government had been bagged for its abysmal performance on the environment and especially on our pathetic efforts to curb our nation’s greenhouse emissions. It decided it’s best hope for re-election was to keep it simple, make it about the economy vs the environment, play up the uncertain economic conditions coming our way, and damn the opposition for gunning for change (big change, uncertain change, change that will rob you of your accrued wealth).

We’re all suffering from change overload. We’re all carrying a degree of existential angst; angst that is being hypercharged by an environmental movement telling us daily that the end is nigh (climate crisis, extinction catastrophe, pollution apocalypse, blah, blah, blah). And with social media they can send us direct emails telling us this on a daily basis (I know this, I get their emails).

The polls tell us that more and more people are worried about climate change and the future but is it possible that the Opposition and the Greens have got it wrong when it comes to what the voters expect our leaders to do about it?

Fundamentalism: Maybe they don’t want reality and greater connection with the complexity that engulfs us. Maybe they want a simple answer or model of how things should work; take the government’s simplistic solutions on faith. (Maybe our emissions targets will prove to be adequate and we really will reach them in a canter despite all the evidence to the contrary.)

Activism: And maybe the comprehensive prescriptions of the opposition were too much to handle, and a more constrained form of engagement is all the electorate was after, or could cope with. (50% renewable energy sounds like a big change, couldn’t we just do a little more recycling?)

Nihilism: And if simple solutions or constrained actions still won’t help you deal with reality, why not damn the lot of them and vote informal (or worse, cast your vote for those absolute nutters on the far right, a hell of a lot of voters did).

Tell me I’m wrong.

*On activism: All models are wrong but some are useful. The ‘model’ presented here is my interpretation of how we cope with a complex world and growing existential angst. To me this model (in part) explains why a compelling rational case for a change in government, partly based on a better environmental policy, found no favour in the broader electorate. Beyond this explanatory value (and the guide it serves for messaging future campaigns), my model also suggests there’s no point in doing anything as we’ll eventually withdraw from the complexity of the environmental challenges we’re involved in (which is really another form of nihilism). What’s the point of being active? The point is that while acting may sometimes not achieve what we desire (in this case a sustainable future), it is our only realistic pathway to finding hope. Not acting, in contrast, simply leaves us hopeless (which is how I felt after the recent election result, but I’ll get over it).

Image by Maklay62 from Pixabay