The Conversation

India is the world's third-largest coal producer, but also the second-largest importer Coal image from www.shutterstock.com

As the world moves to combat climate change, it’s increasingly doubtful that coal will continue to be a viable energy source, because of its high greenhouse gas emissions. But coal played a vital role in the Industrial Revolution and continues to fuel some of the world’s largest economies. This series looks at coal’s past, present and uncertain future.

More than a fifth of India’s population lacks access to electricity, posing a major development challenge. India’s Prime Minister Narendra Modi has promised to bring affordable access to electricity to all of these people by 2019.

While Modi has committed to increasing renewable generation, India is also increasing coal production. India is the world’s third-largest coal producer and its second-largest coal importer.

This is creating a growing tension between development and India’s efforts to reduce greenhouse gas emissions to combat climate change.

Transforming economies

The world economy is changing faster than ever and Asia is at the forefront of its transformation. The growth, led by China over the past decade and more recently by India, shows that Asia has significant progress to make. But there are enormous challenges in realising the dream of the Asian Century.

For instance, in India, 22% of the population is living below the national poverty level. Only 47% of the households have access to a toilet, while 105 million people lack access to clean drinking water and 240 million people don’t have access to electricity.

But there is also bright news for India. The country’s economy is growing quickly and will soon surpass China’s. The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), in its recent interim economic outlook, has predicted that India’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP) will grow by 7.4% in 2016 and 7.3% in 2017.

In his electoral victory speech, Modi promised a “shining India” of new hopes and aspirations. The reality, however, is far more complex.

Resources are the focal point of this tension, particularly the increasing demand for energy. India’s energy demands will increase significantly, driven by rapid urbanisation, improved electricity access and an expanding manufacturing base.

Energy security is closely linked with food and water security, which are the backbones of the nation and a growing challenge in the face of climate change.

Indian government and businesses are addressing these issues by managing supply, increasing production of coal-based thermal plants and growing renewable energy sources. Coal supplies around half of India’s total energy supply.

Will constraints on resources, particularly access to affordable coal, disrupt India’s economic growth?

What role for coal?

India is the world’s third-largest producer of coal for electricity. While production has increased over the past few decades, the pace of growth has been insufficient to meet demand. Consequently, India has become more reliant on imported coal.

India’s thermal coal imports have increased from almost zero in the 1990s to having it overtake Japan as the world’s second-largest importer in 2013. The Indian government seems to promise adequate supply to its coal-fired electricity generation capacity by expanding its coal production as well as encouraging imports.

For example, the power and coal minister, Piyush Goyal, stated last year that the nation would step up domestic production and stop imports of coal for electricity (not coal for manufacturing) by 2017. However, growing economic growth and population may not allow this.

The Modi government’s plans to give access to affordable electricity to all Indians within the next five years cannot be achieved without importing coal. During the recent visit of India’s energy minister to Australia, the minister admitted that the country will need more coal imports, possibly including from Australia.

Although in the short term the case for Australian coal in India may be weakening due to the current global economic slowdown, India will have to rely on imported coal at least in the immediate future to increase its economic growth. This is reflected by the case of Adani, which is trying to develop a huge Carmichael coal mine in Queensland to supply India with thermal coal.

India’s domestic production of coal is constrained for a variety of reasons. India’s coal reserves are not only insufficient but also unevenly distributed among regions.

A further challenge related to the energy sector is a lack of private participation. Until 2014 coal mining was allowed only for government and private companies directly using coal for electricity and manufacturing.

The Modi government amended this rule to enable private companies to mine coal for sale in the open market. This may help create a more favourable coal market for both foreign and domestic investors and increase domestic production.

Although the Modi government is keen to increase production of domestic coal mines through privatisation, challenges still remain, such as pollution. The costs associated with pollution from coal-fired power stations are very large, as we can see from China.

China’s health minister from 2007-13, Chen Zhu, stated that lung cancer is now the leading cause of death in China as a result of pollution. This required China to spend an extra US$278 billion over five years to control pollution, mainly caused by coal-fired power plants.

India will have to tackle a very similar situation in the future. Hence, coal energy consumption is likely to be one of the defining issues of India’s economy in the 21st century, particularly the way in which the nation simultaneously addresses climate change and access to energy.

This is the fifth article in our series on the past, present and future of coal. Look out for others in the coming days.

Tapan Sarker does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond the academic appointment above.

AAP/Lukas Coch

In what has been shaping up as the election that forgot climate change, there are signs emerging in the Coalition’s election campaign that it is starting to listen to polls, its own focus groups and social media chat on climate.

So far it is the Great Barrier Reef that has drawn out the biggest campaign fight on climate.

Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull announced that A$1 billion of the Clean Energy Finance Corporation (CEFC) fund would be directed towards a Reef Fund. 10% of the money from the CEFC will be quarantined to make loans available to farmers in North Queensland.

While Turnbull declared the greatest threat to the reef was global warming, he nevertheless specified that the run-off from farming into the reef was what would be tackled. This is seen to be a measure that could prolong the reef in a region where the Coalition is at risk of losing some marginal seats.

So, one pitch is that saving the reef is about retaining 70,000 jobs that it sustains. But a less believable pitch is that the fund will battle climate change, with Turnbull saying that solar panels for farms in the region will reduce reliance on diesel, and that farmers would have loans for more energy-efficient farm equipment.

Labor’s shadow environment minister, Mark Butler, derided the Reef Fund as a “shameless exercise in spin” insofar as such loans have already been available to farmers for years.

Not far from the reef, in the Galilee Basin, is one of the largest coal deposits in the world, which both Labor and the Coalition have approved mining leases for, but which the Greens’ Larissa Waters insisted must be stopped if we are not going to:

… further cook the reef.

But on Monday night on the ABC’s Q&A, Bill Shorten reaffirmed Labor’s commitment to coal. He said:

A Labor government isn’t going to ban coal mining in this country … Coal is going to be part of our energy mix for the foreseeable future.

At the same time, he acknowledged:

… when we talk about the reef and when we talk about climate change, they are inextricably linked.

But Shorten’s message was identical to Turnbull’s in referring to jobs, saying that:

… good environments generate good jobs. 70,000 people make a living from the reef. It generates $6 billion in turnover for the Australian economy.

Weather and climate

In another climate change publicity opportunity, in the wash-up of the east coast storm last week, Shorten and Turnbull spent a day surveying the flood damage in Tasmania – but only Turnbull ventured so far as to link the floods to climate change.

While Shorten was happy to link climate change to the reef, he did not want to go near linking climate and weather:

In terms of climate and weather, today for me is not a day where I will join the dots about extreme weather events.

But Turnbull had no such hesitation. In a rare moment, the Turnbull of old came out in a moment that harked back to his days as environment minister, when he had no problem talking up the dangers of climate change:

Certainly, larger and more frequent storms are one of the consequences that the climate models and climate scientists predict from global warming but you cannot attribute any particular storm to global warming, so let’s be quite clear about that.

Turnbull is incorrect about subtropical lows becoming more frequent, but he is right about climate scientists’ forecasts that storms will get bigger.

If national policies in Australia and around the world are not calibrated to the 2℃ guardrail, the energy we saw released by last week’s storms will pale compared to what might be in store for future generations.

Referring to the Eemian period of 120,000 years ago, which was the last time the global average temperature was as high as the threshold that the Paris agreement is trying to avoid, scientists are uncovering evidence of storms that were of an order not compatible with the built environments of today’s human settlements.

In recent research, James Hansen, the author of the book Storms Of My Grandchildren, points to the puzzle of giant rocks in the Bahamas, up to one thousand tonnes, that are in a place they just shouldn’t be. Scientists warn these geological freaks harbour a terrifying secret – epic superstorms capable of tossing around boulders like bored Olympians.

But so as to reassure voters, both leaders did talk up the importance of mitigating damage (through the likes of building levies) – but not mitigating climate change itself.

While it was remarkable for Turnbull to discuss climate change at all in this election campaign, he failed to join the dots between the adequacy of the Coalition’s emissions reduction targets for Australia realising a responsible contribution to avoiding a 2℃ threshold.

Social media as a barometer of climate concern

A likely explanation as to why Turnbull in particular is reasserting climate change and the reef as an issue – but not asserting any kind of policy that will fix it – may be his reverence for the power of social media, and what it is telling his media team about neglecting climate change.

An analysis of 150,000 conversations on social media in Australia for the first three weeks of the election campaign reveals climate change is among the top five political topics Australians are talking about on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and blogs.

More than half of the discourse is negative towards each leader, with only 22% positive about Turnbull and 35% positive on Shorten. But of these posts, grouped around leaders, the only issue (other than negative gearing) that is common to discussion of both leaders is climate change. Climate change also stands out as the only issue in the top five that was not being aired by the leaders.

The analysis, by Meltwater, is significant in that it is so different from a poll. Those who answer a poll know that it will be aggregated and is likely to have a political impact. Their answers may not actually reflect their concerns as much as it does the desire to have an impact.

Analysis of social media, however, is more likely to capture the “backstage” of what people are actually concerned about in their daily conversations.

Could it be that, buried in these backstage conversations, are clues as to why voters are turning away from the major parties? And that neglect of climate change is a big part of this? Could it also be why the major parties have made panicked preference decisions to block the Greens and independents, who combined may capture 25% of the national vote?

There is evidence also that the Coalition’s announcements on the Great Barrier Reef are calculated to neutralise social media concern about it as an issue.

Perhaps it is its focus groups or it could be simply the impact of talk show mega-star Ellen DeGeneres’ “Remember the Reef” video-message campaign.

The campaign, which is also part of a promotion for a new film, Finding Dory, has seen Disney, the Great Barrier Reef Foundation and the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park Authority collaborate on raising awareness about the threats to the reef.

But more remarkable than this campaign was the barrage of tweets from Environment Minister Greg Hunt, strenuously defending the government’s management of the reef.

A further tweet personally invited DeGeneres out to visit the reef to allay her fears. But the fear is mostly coming from Hunt it seems, that the Disney campaign really could get out of control, based on an animated movie that is to be screened just two weeks out from election day.

All countries will have to reduce emissions. Coal image from www.shutterstock.com

The Paris climate agreement was an important success for climate diplomacy as nation states showed a strong will to cooperate on climate action.

But instead of imposing binding national emission targets, the Paris Agreement is based on voluntary country commitments (known as Intended Nationally Determined Contributions- INDCs). This poses some challenges.

First, the INDCs proposed so far are not enough to limit warming to well below 2℃, aiming for 1.5℃, as agreed in Paris. The INDCs shift a large burden of the effort to reduce greenhouse gas emissions to after 2030.

Second, the INDCs cannot, yet, be verified and compared in a transparent manner to build mutual trust over time.

Third, countries lack incentives to increase their level of ambition without reducing their competitiveness as well as securities that other countries do not free-ride; to counteract this the right institutions are needed.

Lastly, the INDCs do not automatically become national law after a country ratifies the Paris agreement. Only the promise to review and revise INDCs every five years is legally binding. Countries have to make an additional effort to include their proposed climate policy in their other national policies – for example to counteract the expansion of coal power plants.

Raising the bar

To be effective, the Paris agreement, or any international agreement, has to address these challenges. In this respect, sufficiently high national carbon prices that increase over time would be a meaningful climate policy instrument for three main reasons.

First, carbon prices are relatively easy to compare and represent a transparent indicator of the ambition level of national climate policies.

Second, a carbon price drives up the cost of carbon dioxide (CO₂) emissions, rendering high-emission forms of energy (such as coal power) unprofitable over the long term and low-emission technologies (such as wind and solar) competitive.

Third, the additional revenue from carbon pricing could remain in the respective countries and be used to achieve other societal targets, such as the Sustainable Development Goals.

When negotiating international carbon prices, for example in the context of the G20, individual countries would pledge to increase their domestic carbon price levels via emission taxes, fossil energy taxes, or emissions trading schemes featuring a price floor.

However, these price increases would only come into effect if other countries were likewise implementing high prices. This strategy would circumvent the concern that carbon pricing leads to competitive disadvantages. It would also include a sanctioning mechanism if participants were to lower their carbon prices.

Sharing the burden

A truly global coordination and increase of carbon prices can only occur if an effective burden sharing scheme is implemented. To engage developing countries, transfer payments are necessary. A particular country would receive international support if they accept a national carbon price.

Funds would have to increase with the price level, compensating for higher emissions reduction costs. Reducing the level of ambition would lead to a loss of international support.

This mechanism in turn increases the trust that other countries will pursue ambitious climate policies themselves. The climate finance envisaged in the Paris Agreement could be a main pillar of this strategy.

This article was co-authored by Christian Flachsland, head of governance group, and Ulrike Kornek post-doc in the governance group at the Mercator Institute on Global Commons and Climate Change.

Ottmar Edenhofer will be in Australia from 13-17 June and will present public lectures in Brisbane (University of Queensland), Canberra (ANU) and Melbourne (Climate and Energy College).

Ottmar Edenhofer is Director of the Mercator Research Institute on Global Commons and Climate Change.

Coal is a relatively cheap, abundant and well-established source of energy. Ray Hornsay/Flickr, CC BY-SA

As the world moves to combat climate change, it’s increasingly doubtful that coal will continue to be a viable energy source, because of its high greenhouse gas emissions. But coal played a vital role in the Industrial Revolution and continues to fuel some of the world’s largest economies. This series looks at coal’s past, present and uncertain future.

The availability of efficient and reliable energy for industrial, agricultural and household use is critical for productivity growth and improvement in human wellbeing. But many people across the planet live in a state of energy poverty.

The energy-poor are people living without electricity services and clean energy – for cooking, lighting, heating and other daily needs. According to the World Bank, one-third of the world’s economies have severe energy crises and about 1.1 billion people lack access to electricity.

A large population in developing economies, particularly in Africa, relies on traditional biomass sources of energy that themselves cause problems, such as severe deforestation and carbon pollution. What’s more, many inhabitants of these countries face power outages of up to 20 hours a day.

An economical and sustainable energy source for deprived populations is clearly needed.

Enter coal

Coal is a relatively cheap, abundant and well-established source of energy, but it’s also a major source of carbon pollution. Hence the controversy about whether burning coal can end energy poverty in the coming decades.

In the past, coal has occupied a significant share in the energy mix of developing economies, but it has been under attack due to its emissions, which include sulphur dioxide, nitrous oxide and carbon dioxide.

Amid calls for the use of efficient and clean technologies for electricity generation, the world’s largest producer and consumer of coal has already embarked on dynamic pathways to achieve energy efficiency and sustainability and combat carbon emissions. China’s initiatives for boosting the use of renewable energy sources, cutting the use of high-ash coal and resuming import tariffs on coal have reshaped the global energy mix landscape.

Coal is a relatively cheap, abundant and well-established source of energy, but it’s a major source of carbon pollution. Señor Codo/Flickr, CC BY-SA

Likewise, other developing countries including India are changing their energy mix by shifting their focus to renewables to reduce their reliance on coal-based energy. Although more than 50% of India’s new electricity generation is expected to be met by renewables, the country still needs to rely on coal-based generation to meet expanding demand.

The World Bank has already paused funding for new coal power generation except for exceptional cases, leaving a question mark over coal as a cure for global energy poverty.

But the slowdown in world coal demand is partly due to China’s structural shift away from construction and export-led manufacturing, which has significantly reduced coal prices. This has, in turn, slashed revenues of many exporting countries. And the collapse in prices is resulting in the closure of many mining businesses as companies are unable to recover production costs.

Still, energy-poor developing economies need coal as a cheap and readily available resource to provide electricity for their growing populations unless they find a way to completely replace it with alternative renewable sources.

Current and future trends

Many developing economies are facing a huge shortfall in electricity and are expanding their energy production capacity. This situation is likely to intensify as the world population increases. By the end of 2030, developing countries will need about 950 terawatt-hours electricity to meet their energy needs.

Consider India, which has the second-largest population in the world. It accounts for only 6% of global energy consumption and has 240 million people without access to electricity. With another 315 million Indians expected to move to urban areas in the next few decades, the country’s energy demand is likely to surge in the coming years.

Neighbouring Pakistan is facing a serious energy crisis and many people in that country are spending more than 12 hours each day without electricity. The new Pak-China economic corridor has created an opportunity for the country to use indigenous Thar coal reserves to generate 6,600 megawatts (MW) power, expanding its installed capacity of 24,829 MW by 25%.

According to global statistics, coal contributed to 39% of the world’s energy mix in 2014. The World Coal Association claims that about 1 billion people around the globe have received electricity from coal-powered energy generation. And that the industry has created 7 million jobs worldwide.

A large population in developing economies is reliant on traditional biomass sources of energy that themselves cause problems. Colleen/Flickr, CC BY-NC-ND

Many developing economies, including China and India, are connecting millions of their inhabitants to coal-based electricity systems. Over the last two decades, China has been able to electrify about 700 million households through coal-fired energy production.

India is still meeting the majority of its energy demand from coal-fired electricity generation and was among the world’s three largest coal importers in 2015.

Prospects of coal energy

Energy poverty is a major human and environmental crisis. A balanced energy mix with a high degree of physical safety, low environmental hazards and sustainable supply prospects is essential for poverty alleviation and energy security.

But, in the face of competing alternative energy sources, the role of the coal industry in energy poverty alleviation has become even more challenging.

While renewable energy sources are in their infancy and facing many uncertainties, developing economies have a long way to go before they can completely abandon fossil fuel energy sources. Indeed, these countries need major structural reforms and risk-tolerant investment capital in the renewable sector if the twin goals of reduced carbon emissions and the elimination of energy poverty are to be achieved.

All that means the coal industry will potentially remain a major part of the world’s energy mix. But it needs drastic measures to produce clean and efficient energy if it is to play a role in energy security and poverty alleviation without the adverse environmental effects that threaten to introduce other risks to water, global climate and food security.

The author would like to thank Associate Professor John Steen and Dr Jo-Anne Everingham for their valuable comments on this article.

This is the third article in our series on the past, present and future of coal. Look out for others over the next week or two.

Shabbir Ahmad does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond the academic appointment above.

Controlling our homes with the tap of an app may have hidden energy costs. Smart home image from www.shutterstock.com

Light globes that change colour with the tap of an app, coffee machines you can talk to, and ovens that know exactly how long to cook your food: our homes are getting smart. These devices, just a few examples of what is known as “the internet of things” (or IOT), have been called the “next great disruptor” and “the second digital revolution”.

One of the great hopes of this revolution is that it will help households save energy. Sensors can turn off lights and appliances when not in use, or turn the heating down when people go to bed. Smartphone apps can provide households with more insight into the energy use of their appliances.

While estimates vary widely, industry proponents suggest that emerging connected home technologies could help households reduce their energy bills by 10-25%. Such claims are largely speculative given the absence of robust “before and after” research.

Social research from Australia and the UK is revealing ways in which IOT might also increase energy demand. We have identified three “hidden” energy impacts which are rarely considered in IOT research or energy-saving predictions.

New updates and hardware

Estimates of the true energy and data costs of IOT are currently vague. In part, this is due to the variety of possible impacts within the home, within distributed information infrastructures, and in the production, transportation and disposal of goods.

For example, one estimate suggests that the data servers required to power the internet already produce as much greenhouse gas as the airline industry (around 2% of global emissions). Some predict that server electricity use will treble in the next decade.

While IOT is still a relatively small (and largely unknown) part of this growth, its share is likely to increase substantially in coming years.

As with smartphones and other computers, updates for connected devices add to growing data traffic and hence energy consumption by data centres and transmission networks.

There may also be more energy demand from the increasing need for data centres, control rooms and home networks located within people’s homes (as observed in some of our research). This hard infrastructure takes up space, runs on energy and may require air-conditioned cooling or heating to keep it operating normally.

The rapid emergence of new software for household appliances such as fridges and washing machines may encourage more frequent upgrading of these devices – as seen with televisions and computers over recent years.

Given that it also takes energy to make appliances, discarding and upgrading devices that aren’t smart enough would undermine policies intended to reduce electronic waste (e-waste) and reduce embedded energy.

New needs

Like the industrial revolution of the home, which raised cleanliness expectations and resulted in more energy and water consumption overall, devices like smart thermostats might also raise expectations for comfort, particularly if air-conditioned heating and cooling is used more often and in more rooms.

For example, home automation company Lutron promotes the creation of “pleasance” - a seductive concept promising the perfect combination of luxury, relaxation, pleasure and comfort - all enabled by smart tech.

This vision permeates a range of ambience and aesthetic connected technologies, such as mood and scene lighting, automated water fountains, smart toilets and whole-house audio-visual systems.

By themselves, such features may be relatively low-power. But they add to existing services and are likely to require a degree of always-networked, always-ready standby power consumption.

In one recent estimate, connected devices were forecast to grow globally from 10 billion in 2014 to between 30 billion and 50 billion by 2020. With potentially billions of networked devices in the not-too-distant future, globally these impacts could be considerable.

With more devices at our fingertips, we are also using them more often. Instead of watching only one television, multiple family members can use their tablets and smartphones at the same time. Even though each individual device might be super efficient and battery-powered, it may add up to more energy demand overall.

Even devices marketed to save energy might increase it. For example, some smart apps allow householders to switch their heating or cooling off remotely when they forget.

However, they also provide new opportunities to turn it on remotely. As one article suggests: “if you want the aircon roaring before you come home … use the app to turn it on before you get home”.

Having more connected devices can also create more complexity. This is opening up markets for new devices that integrate and consolidate technologies across the home.

For example, virtual helpers like Amazon’s Echo (Alexa) and the Google Home Assistant can do everything from turning on your lights to playing your favourite music. These devices are new additions for most homes, consuming small amounts of energy in their own right, but adding to the energy demands of distant data servers.

New services

New services are also emerging, such as smart versions of mattresses and fridges that monitor health and assist with sleep, diet and medication patterns.

The security industry is also rapidly evolving to provide surveillance features which allow constant home monitoring from a distance and enable lights and appliances to be switched on to deter burglars. Devices also provide live-stream video sent to smartphones and tablets so householders can check on the activities of their children and pets.

All these devices involve various forms of energy demand, which includes powering the devices themselves. They also transmit data over the internet and make greater use of streamed media content; another key component of the growing energy used by the internet.

That does not mean that IOT has nothing to offer: the devices we have described above arguably have many benefits.

But we do need to pay more attention to these hidden impacts as governments and households embrace these technologies for their promoted energy-saving benefits.

Yolande Strengers receives funding from the Australian Research Council and Energy Consumers Australia. She is affiliated with the Sociological Association of Australia (TASA).

Janine Morley and the DEMAND Centre receive funding from the RCUK Energy Programme and EDF as part of the R&D ECLEER Programme.

Larissa Nicholls receives funding from Energy Consumers Australia.

Mike Hazas receives funding from the UK Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council.

Sparrows are one of the five most common birds in Australian cities. Sparrow image from www.shutterstock.com

In Australia, like so many other countries, the house sparrow is one of the five most commonly seen birds in backyards and gardens. This is a result of intentional introductions over the past two centuries.

The story of how house sparrows came to Australia has several new twists. Recent research shows just how much effort was made to introduce the species as an early form of bio-control (almost a century before the cane toad was introduced to help control the cane beetle).

Most surprisingly, historical documents reveal that the first house sparrows to arrive and breed in Australia actually arrived from India, not England as has been believed for more than 100 years.

Alongside them came the most vilified introduced bird in Australia, the common myna.

Introduced birds

Over the past two centuries Australia has become a new home for hundreds of introduced species of plants and animals. Many of these have become serious pests, causing major losses to agricultural production and threatening Australia’s endemic biodiversity.

The house sparrow and myna dominate many urban areas in Australia but, on account of their dependence on people, have mostly stayed in human-modified environments. They have apparently caused little damage to native species.

While species have been introduced to Australia for a variety of reasons, many people assume that these birds were introduced for very frivolous ones.

Common belief is that English songbirds were introduced by homesick colonists so they could once again hear the familiar sounds of home, in a land where the birds were unfamiliar. But our research reveals a different story.

If you have mynas nearby, you’ll know about it. Myna image from www.shutterstock.com The sparrow campaign

The first sparrows arrived in Australia in late 1862. They were shipped after a prolonged campaign led by Edward Wilson, editor of the Melbourne Argus.

Wilson had established the Victorian Acclimatisation Society, set up with the support of the Victorian government to import useful species. Sparrows, it was thought, could help the struggling agricultural sector.

A series of articles and editorials in 1860-61 drew attention to famines in Hungary and France that were reportedly caused by the destruction of so many songbirds in the farming districts of those countries.

Studies in Switzerland showed that while sparrows do cause some damage to fruit crops, this is outweighed by the number of insect pests that the birds feed to their nestlings (3,000 per nest).

In 1860 Wilson called for farmers to “wage war” on insects pests with sparrows and starlings. He also confessed that:

I like to see a bird in the streets, and I have a kindly feeling for the sparrow for his friendly confidence in this way.

This attitude may explain accusations of frivolity, but the sparrow was valued above other birds because they associated more strongly with people than other birds, and their worth had been demonstrated in Europe and New York where they had been introduced to attack insects defoliating city trees.

By today’s standards, however, efforts to ascertain the ecological and agricultural risks were very poor. The same people are also to blame for the introduction of the rabbit, fox and carp – to mention just three major pests.

Indian arrivals

So, in the early 1860s, Wilson and the Acclimatisation Society went to great efforts to transport birds from Europe. Birds were kept alive during the long voyage by sea and then acclimated to Australian conditions by being held in large aviaries in Melbourne (on the site that later became the Melbourne Zoo), before their release around the colony. This was a challenging enterprise and the value of a live sparrow arriving in Melbourne encouraged greater care on board the ships.

An inadvertent consequence of the economic value placed on the arrival of a sparrow in Australia was that it created a new market for opportunism. The sea passage from India was significantly shorter than that from Europe and an enterprising shipping agent in India, G. J. Landells, took full advantage of this.

New research has uncovered clear documentary evidence that house sparrows arrived from India in 1862 and were breeding successfully in Melbourne before any arrived alive from England (in early 1863). This means it is highly likely that the house sparrows in Australia today are a genetic mix of Indian and European sparrows. The house sparrows in India were native to the subcontinent and are a different race of house sparrow from the one in Europe.

The newspapers of the time also make it clear that, along with each shipment of sparrows from India, a number of common mynas also arrived. This is presumably because they were abundant in the same places as the sparrows and it was argued that they would be a useful addition for eating insects in towns and farms.

In 1863, Landells placed an advertisement in The Sydney Morning Herald offering to export more “minas” to Melbourne for 20 shillings each, and house sparrows at ten shillings each.

While it’s unlikely that he became rich on the back of such a market, his enterprise changed the avian landscape of Australia’s backyards forever.

Simon Griffith receives funding from the Australian Research Council.

To halt climate change and prevent dangerous warming, we ultimately have to stop pumping greenhouse gases into the atmosphere. While the world is making slow progress on reducing emissions, there are more radical options, such as removing greenhouse gases from the atmosphere and storing them underground.

In a paper published today in Science my colleagues and I report on a successful trial converting carbon dioxide (CO₂) to rock and storing it underground in Iceland. Although we trialled only a small amount of CO₂, this method has enormous potential.

Here’s how it works.

Turning CO₂ to rock

Our paper is the culmination of a decade of scientific field and laboratory work known as CarbFix in Iceland, working with a group of international scientists, among them Wallace Broecker who coined the expression “global warming” in the 1970s. We also worked with the Icelandic geothermal energy company Reykjavik Energy.

The idea itself to convert CO₂ into carbonate minerals, the basis of limestone, is not new. In fact, Earth itself has been using this conversion technique for aeons to control atmospheric CO₂ levels.

However, scientific opinion had it up to now that converting CO₂ from a gas to a solid (known as mineralisation) would take thousands (or tens of thousands) of years, and would be too slow to be used on an industrial scale.

To settle this question, we prepared a field trial using Reykjavik Energy’s injection and monitoring wells. In 2012, after many years of preparation, we injected 248 tonnes of CO₂ in two separate phases into basalt rocks around 550m underground.

Most CO₂ sequestration projects inject and store “supercritical CO₂”, which is CO₂ gas that has been compressed under pressure to considerably decrease its volume*. However, supercritical CO₂ is buoyant, like a gas, and this approach has thus proved controversial due to the possibility of leaks from the storage reservoir upwards into groundwater and eventually back to the atmosphere.

In fact, some European countries such as the Netherlands have stopped their efforts to store supercritical CO₂ on land because of lack of public acceptance, driven by the fear of possible leaks in the unforeseeable future. Austria went even so far as to ban underground storage of carbon dioxide outright.

Our Icelandic trial worked in a different way. We first dissolved CO₂ in water to create sparkling water. This carbonated water has two advantages over supercritical CO₂ gas.

First, it is acidic, and attacks basalt which is prone to dissolve under acidic conditions.

Second, the CO₂ cannot escape because it is dissolved and will not rise to the surface. As long as it remains under pressure it will not rise to the surface (you can see the same effect when you crack open a soda can; only then is the dissolved CO₂ released back into the air).

Dissolving basalt means elements such as calcium, magnesium, and iron are released into pore water. Basaltic rocks are rich in these metals that team up with the dissolved CO₂ and form solid carbonate minerals.

Through observations and tracer studies at the monitoring well, we found that over 95% of the injected CO₂ (around 235 tonnes) was converted to carbonate minerals in less than two years. While the initial amount of injected CO₂ was small, the Icelandic field trial clearly shows that mineralisation of CO₂ is feasible and more importantly, fast.

Storing CO₂ under the oceans

The good news is this technology need not be exclusive to Iceland. Mineralisation of CO₂ requires basaltic or peridotitic rocks because these types of rocks are rich in the metals required to form carbonates and bind the CO₂.

As it turns out the entire vast ocean floor is made up of kilometre-thick oceanic basaltic crust, as are large areas on the continental margins. There are also vast land areas covered with basalt (so-called igneous provinces) or peridotite (so-called “ophiolitic complexes”).

The overall potential storage capacity for CO₂ is much larger than the global CO₂ emissions of many centuries. The mineralisation process removes the crucial problem of buoyancy and the need for permanent monitoring of the injected CO₂ to stop and remedy potential leakage to the surface, an issue that supercritical CO₂ injection sites will face for centuries or even millennia to come.

On the downside, CO₂ mineralisation with carbonated water requires substantial amounts of water, meaning that this mineralisation technique can only succeed where vast supplies of water are available.

However, there is no shortage of seawater on the ocean floor or continental margins. Rather, the costs involved present a major hurdle to this kind of permanent storage option, for the time being at least.

In the case of our trial, a tonne of mineralised CO₂ via carbonated water cost about US$17, roughly twice that of using supercritical CO₂ for storage.

It means that as long as there are no financial incentives such as a carbon tax or higher price on carbon emissions, there is no real driving force for carbon storage, irrespective of the technique we use.

*Correction: The sentence has been corrected to note that gas volume rather than density decreases when it is compressed. Thankyou to the readers who pointed out the error.

Dom Wolff-Boenisch does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond the academic appointment above.

Visits to Belize's reefs have been climbing, despite them being listed as World Heritage in Danger since 2009. Elizabeth Albert/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY

In 2014, 1.88 million tourists visited the Great Barrier Reef, bringing an estimated A$5.17 billion into Australia’s economy and helping to employ some 64,300 tourism workers.

With those numbers, it’s easy to see how threats to the Reef’s future, such as the recent mass bleaching event, are confronting for the tourism sector. Perhaps unsurprisingly, many tourism operators have chosen to remain quiet about their concerns or downplay the issue, fearful that mentioning the threats would turn tourists away.

The federal environment department evidently felt the same way, judging by its request that all references to Australian World Heritage sites, including the Reef, be removed from a UNESCO report on climate change and World Heritage tourism.

But does this reasoning stack up? Three other famous tourist destinations have also been in the spotlight of the World Heritage Committee, with little indication that this has turned visitors away.

Galápagos Islands

Galápagos was listed as World Heritage In Danger from 2007-10, primarily because of the impacts of tourism, and was taken off again once the World Heritage Committee was satisfied that its concerns had been addressed. The area is now facing other issues, including biosecurity, sustainable development and fishing, but Galápagos tourism continues to grow, as shown in the graph below, with almost 225,000 visits in 2015.

Everglades National Park

Everglades National Park was listed as World Heritage In Danger in 1993, and remains on the list today (although it was briefly taken off in 2008 before being reinstated in 2010). Annual visitor numbers have fluctuated around the 1 million mark, although official figures count only those who pass through the park’s entrance stations, and many more people enter through the miles of surrounding waters.

Belize Barrier Reef Reserve System

Belize’s reefs have been on the World Heritage In Danger list since 2009, due to a range of issues including invasive species, oil and gas exploitation, and inappropriate visitor accommodation and associated infrastructure. Tourist numbers recently reached a high of 968,131 cruise arrivals in 2014.

Data compiled by author What can we learn from these numbers?

The first thing to note is that the Great Barrier Reef has, to date, avoided being listed as World Heritage In Danger, thanks to last year’s successful campaign by the federal and Queensland governments – although there is no guarantee it will not be added in the future.

But what do the statistics above tell us about what happens to tourism numbers when World Heritage sites are officially listed as “In Danger”?

Galápagos suffered a very slight downturn in tourism after it was added to the In Danger list in 2007, but since then tourism has continued to grow, and today numbers are higher than they have ever been.

In Belize, tourism has fluctuated since the site was listed as World Heritage In Danger in 2009, but here too, tourist numbers today are at record highs despite the fact that these reefs remain on the In Danger list.

Finally to the Everglades, which has been placed on the World Heritage In Danger list twice – both times at the request of the US government. This shows that, while sites can be taken off the list if their prospects improve, not all governments think that an In Danger listing is itself a bad thing. Certainly, Everglades tourism numbers do not seem to have suffered since it was placed back on the list in 2010.

Airboating in the Everglades: still a popular jaunt. chensiyuan/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

Why did the United States lobby to have the Everglades officially described as In Danger, while Australia fought to keep the Great Barrier Reef off the list? As Carol Mitchell, Deputy Director of the South Florida Natural Sciences Center, has explained, the In Danger listing makes it clear to the national and international community that the Everglades still needs attention. Mitchell wrote to me:

It helps to keep some external pressure on both the federal and Florida state governments in their efforts to restore the park … both governments are strongly committed to Everglades restoration; nevertheless … the ability to call upon important, very visible international designations … does help to maintain those commitments.

Tourists already know the Great Barrier Reef is threatened

Despite what the Australian government and many tourism operators would like to believe, the threats to the Great Barrier Reef are already widely known, because they have drawn global media attention.

How this translates into the perceptions of prospective tourists in not yet clear. But the indications from elsewhere around the world is that In Danger listing does not have a significant impact on tourism, and presumably we could say the same about inclusion in documents such as UNESCO’s tourism report.

Many other factors are far more important to tourists, including the economic situation, access, weather events, service quality and, importantly, a site’s relative quality compared to alternative destinations.

Tourism operators are increasingly recognising that the Great Barrier Reef faces myriad threats, and that its outlook is poor. Many people agree with Tony Fontes, a dive operator from the Whitsunday Islands, who previously told me that an In Danger listing “might actually be the catalyst to ensure the GBR is properly protected”.

Recently, other GBR tourism operators have spoken out about the worst crisis ever faced by the GBR, with some 200 businesses and individuals pleading with the government to tackle climate change and the many other threats that together threaten the Reef’s future.

What needs to be done?

Ignoring the indisputable fact that the Great Barrier Reef ecosystem is under unprecedented pressures will help neither tourism nor the environment in the long term. A more effective strategy would be for the relevant agencies and operators alike to create realistic expectations, and responsibly inform tourists of the real situation.

University of Queensland professor Ove Hoegh-Guldberg has summed up the situation:

The reef is in dire trouble, but it’s decades away before it’s no longer worth visiting. That’s the truth. But unless we wake up and deal with climate change sincerely and deeply then we really will have a Great Barrier Reef not worth visiting.

Australia has an international obligation to safeguard the Great Barrier Reef for future generations. As a relatively rich country, Australia needs to show global leadership, but this will require more government assistance, leadership from industry and, crucially, widespread public support for action. If reef tourists from around the world know the real situation, they might be able to help too.

Jon C. Day does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond the academic appointment above.

Miners were fired by a sense of solidarity but also by dangerous working conditions, which produced high death and injury rates. Janet Lindenmuth/Flickr, CC BY-SA

As the world moves to combat climate change, coal is becoming increasingly vilified for its greenhouse gas emissions. But coal played a vital role in the Industrial Revolution, and continues to fuel some of the world’s largest economies. Our series examines coal’s past, present, and increasingly uncertain future, and today we turn to its role in the development of industrial relations.

Coal mining, major industrial disputes, and the coal miner himself, are iconic representations of the industrial age. Demand for coal came from expanding urban centres as a result of the Industrial Revolution, and new coal-fired factories, mills and furnaces.

Miners were among the first workers to organise into trade unions from the middle of the 1700s, battling a lack of legal recognition and resistance from the mine owners.

By the 19th century, there were numerous attempts to combine and organise what were often local trade unions. By the beginning of the 20th century, lasting national bodies of miners had been formed in the United Kingdom, Australia, and the United States.

Origins of mining communities

Small pit-top communities emerging in the 1800s created bonds of association that flowed into newly established trade unions. Mines tended to concentrate in distinct regions following coal seams.

Miners were fired by a sense of solidarity but also by dangerous working conditions, which produced high death and injury rates. Proper records were not kept in the early period, but in the United Kingdom, for example, at least 90,000 miners died between 1850 and 1914.

Disasters were common in the industry. Their collective impact and lasting grief created a long tradition of anger over working conditions. The prevalence of occupational diseases – especially respiratory ailments – further encouraged union formation, and was a rallying call for organisation and political change.

Starting in the late 19th century, mechanisation not only reduced the total number of miners needed to raise a tonne of coal, it also introduced new hazards into the workplace. Machines with high-speed moving parts could catch clothing and limbs, causing serious injury or death.

In Australia and the UK, regulation usually followed major disasters. The US mining industry was more lightly regulated and only serious disasters prompted concerted federal government action; a situation that was unfortunately mirrored in other parts of the world. From 1900 to 1947, more than 90,000 US miners died at work.

Industrial conflict

By the late 19th century, the industry was characterised by uncertain profit margins, seasonal shifts in demand, uncertain supply lines, and owners who increasingly resented the rise of unions.

Mine owners were pressing for lower wages or faster work rates, and industrial conflict was common. And as older, more paternalistic forms of management of the early 1800s began to recede, the industry was characterised by major industrial battles.

Disasters were common in the mining industry. Orin Blomberg/Flickr, CC BY-ND

On the eve of the Great Strikes of the early 1890s in Australia, for instance, there was evidence that mine owners, in league with other employer groups, had decided to make a stand against the rising tide of union power.

Miners had joined other workers in asserting the right to form their own associations. They encouraged unions in new secondary industries and in other mines. In places such as the Hunter Valley in New South Wales, coal miners helped workers organise in the new base metal mines of the 1880s, and later in the Newcastle iron and steel industry from 1915.

In the US, there were violent and deadly clashes between miners and state and federal militia including the infamous 1914 Ludlow massacre in Colorado, where more than 60 strikers were killed.

In Australia, a seven-week miners strike in 1949 over wages and conditions but made worse by Cold War fears, saw federal government intervention and soldiers working in the mines.

Mining communities

Miners were also important in the development of the labour parties in Australia and the United Kingdom.

In the 1930s and 1940s, coal-mining communities in Australia, Wales, and England included members of the Communist Party. But the Labour parties were by far the dominant group, and mining communities would supply staunch Labour party politicians for many decades.

There was strict gender division of labour in coal-mining communities with men as breadwinners and women as wives and helpers. If women organised, it was in an “auxiliary” role.

Religion was often an important part of mining communities and this usually took the form of Protestantism that preached an acceptance of one’s fate; hyper religiosity in the face of the deadening weight of wage labour and the daily possibility of injury or death prevailed.

By the 1950s and 1960s, unionised coal miners had won better pay and conditions. In conditions of low unemployment and with the prestige garnered by their national organisations, coal miners had significant industrial power.

The withdrawal of their labour could bring an economy to a standstill as coal was required for factory machinery and transport. But towards the end of this long boom period, coal began to lose out to oil and gas.

The radical miner?

There is a common misconception that most coal miners were militant socialists. But miners and their communities could be socially conservative moderates who worked within the capitalist system.

Pit-top communities were homogeneous, and solidarity was often enforced through intimidation and exclusion, as well as moral consensus.

Working in a coal mine did not inevitably produce a radical political consciousness. Where strong union organisation was present, it was the result of hard work and efforts to organise members focused on protection rather than revolution.

Where strong union organisation was present, it was the result of hard work and efforts to organise members focused on protection rather than revolution. Amgueddfa Cymru - National Museum Wales/Flickr, CC BY-NC

The UK miners' strike protesting mine closures in 1984-85 was an occasion when, in the face of strong external threats, communities did come together powerfully.

With long memories of successful miners’ strikes in the early 1970s, Margaret Thatcher’s government embarked on a concerted attack on coal communities. This included plans to call in the military if needed, and reduce the power of the coal miners by encouraging nuclear energy.

But even in this case, the ultimately unsuccessful strike also produced internal dissent, a rival workers' organisation, and broke the exclusive coverage of the union in mining jobs.

Recession and globalisation

Coal mining continued to offer good jobs for working class communities but, increasingly, the jobs were being shifted to the developing world. And miners were losing their industrial and political muscle.

By 2007, there were 41,000 coal miners in the United States but only 22% were unionised. Recent high-profile bankruptcies of major US firms have again highlighted this development.

The centre of the global coal industry is now China. It accounts for 40% of global production; up to 80% of global coal mining fatalities; and no independent union representation.

Away from the spotlight of large mines, informal or artisanal coal mines are important in the developing world. While these small mines are important sources of income for poor communities (especially for women and children), conditions are squalid, safety unregulated and figures on the loss of life or serious fatalities largely unknown.

The reality of climate change has transformed the standing of coal mining. Those on the left were once unfailingly proud of their militant tradition. But as coal became associated with human-induced climate change this became less tenable.

The industry that spawned major unions, heroic though often unsuccessful industrial action, and transformed the political makeup of the UK and Australia, is now increasingly struggling. While the UK has only a handful of operating coal mines, the Australian situation is complicated by the renewed expansion of mining, including coal mining, from 2001.

This is the third article in our series on the past, present and future of coal. Look out for others in the coming days.

Erik Eklund does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond the academic appointment above.

Coal powered the machinery and lit what English poet William Blake described as 'dark satanic mills'. Sam Leighton/Flickr, CC BY-NC

As the world moves to combat climate change, it’s increasingly doubtful that coal will continue to be a viable energy source, because of its high greenhouse gas emissions. But coal played a vital role in the Industrial Revolution and continues to fuel some of the world’s largest economies. This series looks at coal’s past, present and uncertain future, starting today with how it’s formed.

Coal was king of the British Industrial Revolution. As coke, it provided an efficient fuel for reliably turning iron ore into iron.

Cheap iron built the famous bridge across the River Severn at Ironbridge Gorge in 1781. And the machinery that filled the new factories of the industrial age was built from it.

Coal then powered the machinery and lit what English poet William Blake (1757-1827) described as the “dark satanic mills” that revolutionised cotton manufacture. It powered James Watt’s double-acting piston engine, whose reciprocating motion was converted into rotary motion by means of a crankshaft.

The resulting steamships and railway locomotives reduced the time and cost of bringing coal into factories and taking their products to British export markets across the globe.

Somewhat unexpectedly, the new forms of transport also generated exciting adventures for the British population – the mass seaside resort and the day return. Thus were Thomas Cook and the British tourism industry born.

Spoils of coal

Coal literally powered its way through the British economy of the 19th century – the so-called first industrial nation and workshop of the world.

Coal powered James Watt’s piston engine, whose reciprocating motion was converted into rotary motion by means of a crankshaft. Herman Pijpers/Flickr, CC BY

It even fuelled engines that drained water from deeper, less accessible coal mines to keep the supply coming. When steel superseded iron later in the century, coal remained a critical raw material.

Subsequent generations of locomotives and steamships improved transport productivity enormously, and gradually forced owners of stagecoaches, canal boats and sailing ships out of business. Then locomotives, rails, steamships and coal themselves joined the growing range of British exports as other countries sought to mimic the nation’s success.

Ironically, many ageing sailing ships were deployed to carry coal to refuel the growing network of coal bunkering stations around the oceans of the world, a trade that required low cost but no particular urgency.

Fast, reliable ocean liner services contributed to the first era of globalisation in the late 19th century, led by British steamship companies such as Cunard and P&O. They connected Britain across the Atlantic and eastwards, respectively.

Other countries followed suit, especially France, Belgium and Germany, which also had ample supplies of coal. While no one would deny the connection between coal and 19th-century industrialisation, why Britain was the first nation to modernise its economy by exploiting reserves remains highly contested.

Why Britain?

A long-held view is that the antecedents of British success can be traced back centuries during which the nation gradually built the preconditions for modern development. Growth-inducing institutions can take many forms, and include a stable political system and the development of commercial law.

The emphasis in Britain was on rising literacy levels and logical reasoning derived from movements that encouraged analytical thinking about the problems of the real world – the scientific revolution and the Age of Enlightenment.

These “gifts of Athena” (in the words of economic historian Joel Mokyr) facilitated critical and creative thinking about “useful knowledge” necessary to solve growth constraints. In modern parlance, here was the knowledge economy.

This “Eurocentric” view – so-called because it assumes that development in Britain (and Europe) was ahead of the rest of the world – has now been challenged.

In his epochal study, The Great Divergence, US historian Kenneth Pomeranz used China as a point of comparison to reject the long-term antecedents of the “great divergence” between the economic development of Europe and the rest of the world.

Pomeranz argues that Britain and China had arrived at similar stages of development by the 18th century (“a world of surprising resemblances”, as he calls it) and that they reflected different, but equivalent, measures of progress.

Railway locomotives, along with steamships, reduced the time and cost of bringing coal into factories and taking their products to British export markets across the globe. Colleen Galvin/Flickr, CC BY

The divergence was then born of differing abilities to confront an impending global ecological crisis: growing populations faced food and raw material shortages in a low-technology era.

Fortuitously, Britain had coal, conveniently located, and an empire in the New World with the space to produce primary commodities – timber, sugar, cotton and wheat – which, alongside coal, facilitated industrialisation.

Pomeranz concludes that Britain was a “fortunate freak” because its development was due to a short-term windfall from “coal and empire”, rather than to deeper determinants of long-term change.

Paths to growth

The publication of The Great Divergence led to a broad and thought-provoking debate in economic history for a decade and a half.

What we learnt from it – above all else – was that there have been different forms of economic development across the world. And some of these have been pathways less recognisable to Europeanists accustomed to coal and heavy industry as staples, and Gross Domestic Product (GDP) as the measure, of development.

Other historians have drawn attention to forms of industrialisation, especially in Asia, that have needed more human – and less non-renewable natural – resources.

Now that we are living in an era when coal’s environmental problems have come to the fore, it’s heartening to be reminded that there are other growth paths.

The other relevant insight from the Great Divergence debate is that human agency is vital; there are no immutable lessons of geography or ecology, and no development path is unchanging.

Coal and other resources have always been abundant in many parts of the world. It’s the human ingenuity found in particular societies – however derived – that has created high levels of wellbeing from these natural resources.

Let’s hope we will find a way of maintaining living standards into the future while mitigating the impact of our growth on the environment.

This is the second article in our series on the past, present and future of coal. Look out for other pieces over the coming days.

Simon Ville does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond the academic appointment above.

Imagine a unique set of scales that measures the value of life. If a single human were on one side, how many chimpanzees (our closest genetic relatives) would need to be on the other side before the scales tipped in their direction?

This may seem like an abstract, irrelevant or even offensive question to some people. But it was made horrifically real by the death last week of Harambe, the Cincinnati Zoo gorilla who was shot after a young boy fell into his enclosure.

Zoo handlers were faced with the agonising decision to take Harambe’s life to ensure the young boy would not lose his. The response to this event online has varied from anger, to sadness, through to considerations of how much choice the zoo’s staff really had. How do we decide what our own lives are worth compared with other species?

Perhaps we can try to frame the comparison in relative terms. There are 7.4 billion human beings on the planet, whereas Western lowland gorillas are critically endangered. Does a human life hold more value than that of a member of a critically endangered animal species?

Harambe’s death suggests that the instinctive answer is yes, but is there a point at which some people’s moral scales might tip the other way? Our research suggests there might be.

The concept of ‘moral expansion’

No one expects an easy answer to this question. But the fact that we can even ask it shows that our moral sensibilities have expanded beyond the boundaries of our own species.

Many of us feel a deep moral responsibility not just to protect our fellow humans, but to guard the moral rights of entities the world over. This change, which has spanned the past few centuries, has resulted in some serious ethical challenges to the ways we interact with other species and the environment.

Recently, animal rights organisations in the United States have fought for the legal personhood status of chimpanzees like Tommy, while animal advocates have petitioned the United Nations for a Declaration of the Rights of Great Apes since 1993.

In the meantime, a river in New Zealand has been officially granted legal personhood status (similar to the status given to corporations), making the river a legal “person” with its own rights and interests under law.

In line with the concept of compassionate conservation, these examples highlight the narrowing of the gulf between the moral rights of humans, non-humans and the environment.

For supporters of these causes, human rights and corresponding moral standing should no longer be restricted to humans.

Are you willing to sacrifice?

The legal semantics are interesting, but what about when it really comes to the crunch? Our recent research has examined how widely people spread their moral concern to others. We found that this is a key predictor of the type of moral decision-making that compares the value of a human life to that of another animal.

We asked people the following question: how many other human beings would need to be in danger before you sacrificed your own life to ensure their survival? But our research didn’t stop at humans.

We also asked how many chimpanzees would need to be at risk. How many ants? How many redwood trees?

Responses to these questions were as varied as the responses to the shooting of Harambe.

Some people said they would sacrifice their life if it meant that just a few chimpanzees would keep theirs. Others said it wouldn’t matter how many animals or trees were in danger; a human life was simply worth more.

We found that we could predict people’s responses to specific questions based on their position on what we call the “moral expansiveness scale” (you can find out your own score here). Those whose moral outlook stretched further beyond humans were more likely to say they would sacrifice themselves to benefit other animals or nature.

A moral dilemma

Human beings are becoming increasingly morally expansive. As a species we are adopting a moral standard that represents ethical and altruistic responsibilities on a global scale. This is reflected in the extension of human rights to chimpanzees and the granting of legal rights to elements of our natural environment.

However, this trend is accompanied by an escalating moral conflict. The extension of our moral boundaries is happening just as the global human population is growing exponentially, leading to tension and competition over scarce resources.

As a consequence, we are increasingly likely to face ethical dilemmas over the value of human versus non-human life. It won’t be in the form of a quick decision to kill an animal to save the life of a child. These dilemmas will play out in courtrooms and parliaments, as human needs are pitted against environmental ones, and as the battle for natural resources brings threats of deforestation and species extinction.

As we edge ever closer to the brink of the Earth’s sixth mass extinction, perhaps we need to consider just exactly what a human life is worth.

Complete our survey to find out how morally expansive you are.

Brock Bastian receives funding from The Australian Research Council.

Daniel Crimston, Matthew Hornsey, and Paul Bain do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond the academic appointment above.

Much of the 'smart cities' rhetoric is dominated by the economic, with little reference to the natural world and its plight. Ase from www.shutterstock.com

Back in the 1960s, the influential urban planner and journalist Jane Jacobs put American cities under the microscope. Jacobs was aiming to explain, and suggest ways of remedying, the hollowing out, or “doughnut effect”, which left previously well-functioning city centres rundown and devoid of new blood.

The effect was less dramatic in Australian cities, which had few, if any, residential populations in their central business districts until comparatively recently. And many of the innermost suburbs that surrounded the CBDs were industrialised and yet to feel the decline of manufacturing.

Of course, today the situation is completely reversed across Western cities. The emergence of the service economy and explosive growth of professional classes are promoting gentrification and squillion-dollar property values.

Jacobs’ conditions for a vibrant city life were that districts must serve at least two functions to attract persons of different purposes around the clock. Further, blocks must be small, with many opportunities for pedestrians to interact and a diverse range of buildings. Finally, there needed to be reasonable density. The idea was that “vitality” had a lot to do with chance encounters.

Digital entanglement Digital interconnectivity is increasingly taken to be a measure of a city’s vitality. Ekaphon Maneechot from www.shutterstock.com

Jacobs’ encounters have now been supplemented if not entirely supplanted by social media. Enter some Italian researchers who hit upon the idea of mining “big data”. In this case, they used mobile phone calls cross-referenced to satellite-derived records such as Open Street Map to gauge where precisely this feverish activity was happening across six of Italy’s large cities. (In corroboration of Jacobs’ thesis, the best places were found to be “day end points” with concentrations of office workers at large, as well as small streets and blocks with historic buildings.)

There’s a sense that this “interconnectivity” is becoming a signal of city vitality/vibrancy. The two elements are becoming entangled like subatomic particles.

Moreover, it’s a natural fit with the vogue for blending IT with strategic planning. The new ministerial portfolio, cities and digital transformation, exemplifies this.

Smart city buzz

You don’t have to venture far into urban policy space before coming across the idea of the “smart city”. There’s a near-continuous run of conferences on the topic and even a Turnbull government plan. The plan features, among other measures, a blend of big-data thinking, with “better benchmarking of city performance”, and the prescriptions set out in Edward Glaeser’s 2013 book, Triumph of the City.

Glaeser views cities as places where human ingenuity can flourish and skills are developed and refined – a combination driving economic and technological advance. He believes increased densification, including a “vertical city” with yet higher stacks of buildings, is integral to achieving these objectives.

Glaeser, however, illustrates complexities in this debate. Jacobs opposed the view that high-rise cities create beneficial interactions. And concern is growing that increased reliance on digital communication will radically reduce urban human interaction.

Reckoning with a cantankerous planet High-rise cities face particular problems in a warming world. zhangyang13576997233 from www.shutterstock.com

Smart cities need to be “resilient” if they’re to counter, for example, Paul Gilding’s “great disruption”. This includes life-threatening heat, desiccation and killer peri-urban fires. High-rise cities may prove to be the least adaptable human constructions in an era of fundamental change and add considerably to the urban heat island effect

Should an economic perspective – like this, for instance – remain the main if not the sole focus for cities? This in a year when atmospheric carbon reached an irreversible 400ppm; the Great Barrier Reef’s coral is bleaching; wildfires have destroyed towns and cities in Canada; India has recorded its hottest day on record 51°C; Paris has been heavily flooded; and sea-level rise threatens to inundate Silicon Valley, the spiritual home of start-ups – not to mention our home-grown variety of storm surge, erosion and flooding.

Is there something we’re missing? In the rhetoric surrounding smart cities it’s difficult to unearth specific reference to the natural world and its current plight. And when there is, it’s often a few throwaway lines about the value of green space in protecting biological diversity and threatened species.

Contrast this with the growing awareness of the benefits to our psyche of exposure to the natural world (even acting as a boost to productivity in the workplace).

Set these observations against the revelation that today’s children – the inheritors of the smart city – are spending less time outdoors than prisoners. This has occurred in a generation for whom the environment is unlikely to be mainstream given that their reality is ultimately what appears on a screen. Digital connectivity in low-amenity vertical communities is likely to prove a poor substitute for the kind of city Jacobs advocated.

Reconnecting kids and others requires rejigging our perspective, as well as starting to look out for vestiges of wildlife that has sought refuge in our cities. And providing for local food production is as big as big data itself, but that’s something for another day.

Peter Fisher does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond the academic appointment above.

Coal has provided us with some stunning fossils. Bart Bernardes/Flickr, CC BY-NC-ND

As the world moves to combat climate change, it’s increasingly doubtful that coal will continue to be a viable energy source, because of its high greenhouse gas emissions. But coal played a vital role in the Industrial Revolution and continues to fuel some of the world’s largest economies. This series looks at coal’s past, present and uncertain future, starting today with how it’s formed.

Love it or hate it, coal played a crucial role in launching us into the modern world by fuelling the Industrial Revolution. The byproducts of that role were, of course, the rise of greenhouse gases in our atmosphere and dangerous levels of air pollution in the big coal-fuelled cities.

But despite its insidious influence on the climate and our health, coal has a lesser-known positive side to its otherwise dark soul. It has provided us with some stunning fossils.

Geologists have known for centuries that coal is an accumulation of plant material that, once buried in the Earth’s sedimentary layers, gets compressed by gravity into a denser, compact form. Yet, in recent years, scientists have hotly debated the early phases of coal formation.

The discussion hinges on whether coal formed due to the absence of certain organisms that actively break down the woody tissues of dead trees, or whether other non-biological factors were the reason.

Contested origins

Coal starts its cycle of formation with the accumulation of plant material in swamps or bogs. Decaying plant matter that builds up at the bottom of bogs or swamps is called peat. After other sedimentary layers bury the peat deposit, the weight of these sediments builds up and compacts it.

Other chemical and physical processes also alter the peat, including pressures exerted by tectonic forces as continents move and crash into one another. These processes eventually turn the layers of compacted peat into rock we can mine.

Pure black coal, richer in organic carbon and tempered by heat and pressure, is called anthracite. Brown coal, or lignite, is mostly just compressed peat and has more sediment mixed in with plant matter.

Coal has formed as very large deposits at certain times in Earth’s prehistory. So much so that Reverend William Conybeare, the esteemed British geologist of the early 19th century, first named the Carboniferous or “carbon-bearing” period (359 million to 299 million years ago) after the distinctive coal deposits of Britain in his book of 1822.

These great coal swamps formed in what were the Earth’s first great forests. They were home to many varieties of giant amphibians and early reptiles and huge insects, as global oxygen levels were very high at this time.

Scientific treasures from coal: the Iguanodon dinosaur display in Brussels Museum of Natural Sciences. Brussels Museum of Natural Sciences website

For many years, scientists believed that coal formed in such large deposits at these times because certain fungi that helped break down the lignin, or woody tissues, had not yet evolved. The molecular clock estimates for the appearance of these fungi, called Agariomycetes, suggest they should appear in the Permian period (299 million to 252 million years ago), after the formation of the vast Carboniferous coal deposits.

A new theory

But this doesn’t account for the huge amounts of coal that formed in much later geological periods, such as the Cenozoic, over the past 65 million years. And a new study, led by Matthew Nelsen of Stanford University, takes issue with this model, as well as presenting a new hypothesis for coal formation.

The study authors argue that coal formed in the Carboniferous period consists dominantly of plants such as horsetails, or Lycophytes. These trees grew to enormous sizes and their periderm, or outer cuticles of the trunk, lack lignin, so wouldn’t be affected by the absence of lignin-degrading fungi. Their argument points to the biochemical composition of the plants having little to do with how coal accumulates.

The distribution of coal deposits through time is seen in the chart below of the estimated total volume of coal in North America. Large deposits of coal also accumulated during the age of dinosaurs (Mesozoic Era, from 252 million to 66 million years ago) and during the first half of the Cenozoic period (between 66 million and 30 million years ago), well after the predicted first appearance of lignin-degrading fungi.

Terrestrial coal accumulation in North America, through time. Note the large peaks during the Carboniferous ‘C’ and early Cenozoic ‘Pg’. Taken from the paper by Nelsen et al. (2016). Prof. Kevin Boyce, with permission.

The paper argues that tectonic factors are the most likely reason such big coal deposits built up at certain times. Large basins fill up with thick sedimentary piles when continents collide and mountain-building occurs. Some really excellent fossils have been found in such coal deposits, although the acidity of coal often dissolves bones.

The best-preserved fossils are those caught in the cleaner sediments laid down by streams between coal seams. Such fossils are routinely uncovered as part of coal mining. Several of the large fossil amphibians that lived in the Carboniferous swamps have been found this way.

A famous site at Nyrany in the Czech Republic was discovered because the director of the natural history museum there had coal delivered to heat his room. Splitting the coal sometimes yielded well-preserved fossils of early amphibians, so he could add scientifically significant specimens to his collections without leaving his office.

Perhaps the most famous fossils found in a coal mine were uncovered at Bernissart in Belgium. Many skeletons, representing 33 individuals of the large plant-eating dinosaur Iguanodon, were found there in 1878. These skeletons were among the first complete dinosaurs ever found.

Although coal is much maligned because of its byproducts from combustion, the factors responsible for coal accumulation also give us fossil treasures from the past. To stop coal mining would undoubtedly mean many good fossils remain in the ground. But the long-term health of our planet is a bigger priority.

This is the first article in our series on the past, present and future of coal. Look out for others in the coming days.

John will be online for an Author Q&A between 2:30 and 3:30pm AEST today (Wednesday 8 June, 2016). Post any questions you have in the comments below.

John Long receives funding from The Australian Research Council

Eastern Australia’s wild weather has left coastal homes teetering on the brink of collapse, and has eroded beaches by up to 50m in parts of Sydney.

Now the attention turns to the clean-up. There are several legal issues for owners of damaged properties, particularly the question of if and how they can be compensated.

While the recent events cannot be attributed directly to climate change, they are certainly consistent with a warming world. Our institutions are ill-prepared for a potential increase in the frequency and severity of such events.

Insurance

Unfortunately, the success of insurance claims for damaged homes in Sydney will depend entirely on the terms of their policies. Some policies don’t cover erosion at all. Some policies only cover it if it occurs within a certain proximity of another insured event (for example, within 48 hours of a named storm event). Some policies also comprehensively exclude coverage for damage caused by actions of the sea.

What’s more, while insurance will cover damage to buildings, policies do not extend to cover damage to or loss of land. This is especially problematic in the case of damage caused by waves and storms, because erosion will often result in loss of land.

Under the traditional law doctrine, where land is lost to erosion, the Crown automatically gains title to the inundated land, without any obligation to pay compensation. So even if a home-owner is insured, they may find themselves with no land to rebuild on.

Legal proceedings

Another potential avenue for home-owners to pursue is proceedings against the relevant local government for negligent approval of development. The success of this type of proceeding is highly speculative – much will hinge upon when the development was approved and how much information on the coastal hazards was available at that time.

Where development was approved decades ago, it may be difficult to prove that a local government was negligent, because of the limited state of knowledge at the time. In the case of more recent development approvals, there may be an argument that a local government had a high level of knowledge of the risk and control of risk information. These are the type of factors a court will look at in assessing negligence.

On the flip side, a court may also find that a landholder knew of and accepted the risk. Negligence proceedings are by no means a guaranteed avenue for landholders to recoup their loss, but are an avenue that Collaroy landholders may be able to explore.

Disaster assistance

Where insurance is not available, and there are no strict legal rights against government, landholders may request disaster relief or assistance from government.

Despite the lack of any legal compulsion to do so, Australian governments have a long history of providing disaster relief to citizens when an extreme weather event causes property damage.

A recent Productivity Commission report estimated that, over the past decade, the federal government spent A$8 billion on post-disaster relief and recovery. State governments spent a further A$5.6 billion.

However, the availability and amount of a payment are not guaranteed. This may depend upon the number of other claims for assistance, and any other demands on government resources. A claim for disaster relief from government may be an option for Collaroy landholders, but many other home-owners are also affected by flooding due to the recent extreme weather – and so potentially there are many other requests for relief.

What should we learn from this event for the future?

While the pictures of houses being lost to the sea in Collaroy are confronting, these images may become more commonplace. The most recent scientific report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change suggests that, under a business-as-usual scenario, a global sea-level rise in the range of 0.53-0.97m by 2100 is likely.

Even if emissions are immediately reduced, a global sea-level rise of 0.28-0.60m by 2100 is still possible. This will be especially problematic in Australia, with an estimated 711,000 residential addresses located within 3km of the shore and less than 6m above sea level – not to mention the billions of dollars' worth of government infrastructure also located in these regions.

As sea levels rise, some properties may be permanently inundated. Others may be hit by storm surge impacts or erosion, which may be exacerbated by sea-level rise.

If these events continue to attract disaster relief, the financial burden will become too great for governments to bear. Furthermore, government disaster assistance does not solve the more intractable problem of land being lost to the sea.

The pictures from Collaroy should therefore prompt a discussion about how we, as a society, can deal with the potential impacts of coastal hazards on existing developments.

This is a challenging question to answer, but there is an opportunity to address it in a planned and co-ordinated fashion.

Justine Bell-James has previously received funding from the Australian Research Council and the National Climate Change Adaptation Research Facility.

The massive storms that have lashed Australia’s east coast over the past few days are not just a threat to lives and property, but also to our marine wildlife.

The increasing urbanisation of our coastlines, and proliferation of impervious surfaces, has meant that up to 80% of stormwater now runs rapidly into a dense underground network of drains.

These drains act like an expressway for pollution and debris in our cities, roads, gutters and gardens, sending a cocktail of contaminants directly into the aquatic ecosystems that lie at the end of the pipe.

Stormageddons

Earlier this year, Newcastle recorded its wettest January day since 1862. In 2015, New South Wales experienced a “once in a century” storm event.

These storms along Australia’s east coast originated mainly from naturally occurring low-pressure systems, which may become less frequent but more severe in the future. Worldwide extreme weather events are becoming more common, with about 18% of heavy precipitation events attributed to global warming.

Australia is not the only country receiving a drenching. Torrential rains have hit Texas twice this year, breaking records in May and unleashing two 100-year storms in less than a week. Louisiana and Mississippi have been placed on flood watch.

Across the Atlantic, Europe is also emerging from receding flood waters, with the River Seine in France at its highest levels since 1910 and southern Germany battered by thunderstorms, hail and flash flooding.

A pollution cocktail

Stormwater is a mixture of rain and any dissolved or solid pollutants carried along with it. The excess water flowing along streets and gutters picks up litter, oil and grease, and metals. Run-off from parks and gardens introduces fertilisers, pathogens, pesticides and soil.

In Sydney Harbour it has been estimated that more than two-thirds of the pollutants entering the waterway do so via stormwater drains, creating hotspots of pollution with concentrations 20 times higher than natural levels. More than 80% of the city’s catchment is covered by concrete, increasing the volumes of stormwater run-off.

When stormwater reaches a waterway it represents a significant ecological risk. Together with international colleagues, we have been investigating the impact of stormwater pollution on ecological communities large and small, including changes to the number of species, nutrient cycling, and the release of toxic compounds such as ammonia, nitrous oxide and hydrogen sulphide.

Mobile animals such as fish and crustaceans may be able to avoid pollution by temporarily moving. But other aquatic organisms such as seaweeds and animals that anchor to rocks are more vulnerable. If they don’t die from the exposure, they may accumulate significant concentrations of pollutants within their bodies.

In stagnant or poorly flushed waterways, the risk of exposure is greater as pollutants tend to linger in the water and become bound to sediments where they act as an ongoing stress.

A big question is what happens when ecosystems are exposed to many different pollutants. Some studies suggest the impacts will be greater than the sum of the individual pollutants.

Building better cities

The solution to stormwater run-off is to build better: to design and construct cities to protect waterways such as rivers, manage stormwater and also make them liveable for people too. This approach is known as water-sensitive urban design.

One example is the large underground water tanks that collect stormwater to be reused for irrigation at Sydney’s Barangaroo Reserve.

You can help at home too by retaining vegetation, installing rainwater tanks, clearing excess leaf litter and debris from guttering and driveways, and reducing the use of pesticides and fertilisers on gardens. Rainwater tanks have proven particularly successful at capturing all stormwater for reuse in toilet flushing and irrigation.

While we need to clean up our waterways, we also need to make sure that enough water and organic matter are flowing through our rivers and into the oceans. Getting the balance right will make for better cities and healthier oceans.

Katherine Dafforn receives funding from the Australian Research Council and Lendlease. She is affiliated with the Sydney Institute of Marine Science.

Emma Johnston receives funding from the Australian Research Council.

The flooding rains that have drenched eastern Australia have tragically left several people dead and several more missing in New South Wales and Tasmania. This is an all-too-common story – flooding rains are a major cause of deaths around the globe.

Since 1994, we have studied the trends and causes of deaths due to natural disasters. Recent research into flood fatalities in Australia from 1900 to 2015 is revealing some important insights.

Our research suggests many of these deaths are avoidable.

How people die in floods

Since 1900, 1,859 people in Australia have died in floods. That’s more than in bushfires and earthquakes, but less than heatwaves, which remain by far Australia’s most deadly natural peril (excluding pandemic diseases). Of these flood deaths, 178 have occurred since 2000.

The majority of deaths have been male (79%), although the proportion of females has increased since the 1960s. Children and adults younger than 29 make up the majority.

Overall, most deaths have occurred in New South Wales and Queensland, although a greater proportion of people die in the Northern Territory compared to the population. Most deaths happen in relative isolation, in flood events that claim either one or two lives.

Most people have died while attempting to cross a bridge, causeway, culvert or road, either on foot or in a vehicle. While most victims were capable of independent action and aware of the flood, the speed and depth of the water took them by surprise.

Of those who were attempting to reach a destination at the time of death, the greatest number were on their way home. Playing in flood water is also a significant cause of death, particularly for children and young adults. More women and children died in floods due to the decisions of others – for example, being a passenger in a vehicle.

Those on foot mostly perished during the daytime, whereas those in vehicles were more likely to die in the evening when visibility is poorer. The majority of fatalities happened within the local area close to where they lived.

Overall, flood deaths have been declining since the early 1960s. This is probably due to investments in flood mitigation and warning systems, and the work of emergency service organisations such as the State Emergency Services. Deaths associated with motor vehicles, however, are on the rise and those associated with four-wheel-drive vehicles have increased over the past 15 years. The large majority of drivers have been men.

Our research has shown that many people simply ignore warnings and road closure signs. In one case in 2015 in NSW, 84% of motorists were observed driving past road closure signs and entering flood waters. Most were men driving four-wheel-drive vehicles.

How can we prepare people?

Our unpublished survey has revealed that Australian emergency managers prefer improving roadside warning signage at causeways, flood warning systems and road design in flood-prone areas.

However, it is clear that current practices are failing and must be complemented with a strategy to inspire behavioural change in the community.

Education programs should be targeted at young males at risk of entering floodwater, and at females and children to raise their awareness so that they may be empowered to influence motorist behaviour.

It is too easy to underestimate the dangers associated with floods. Our vehicles, even four-wheel-drives, do not provide a safe means of crossing flooded roadways. The public must understand that flood waters need to be respected, and be ready to work with authorities to reduce risks posed by flooding to our towns and cities.

See here for the full research report.

Katharine Haynes receives funding from and is affiliated with the Bushfire and Natural Hazard Cooperative Research Centre.

Andrew Gissimg receives funding from the Bushfire and Natural Hazards Cooperative Research Centre.

Fire significantly added to our ability to change the world. Fire image from www.shutterstock.com

Over the past year, carbon dioxide (CO₂) levels in the atmosphere have risen faster than any period in the past 55 million years. That’s the finding of my study published in Global Change Biology.

From April 2015 to April 2016, CO₂ levels rose by 4.6 parts per million (ppm), reaching a level of 407.42ppm at Mauna Loa observatory, Hawaii. This rate has increased in the past 200 years and forms a unique spike, reflecting accelerating global warming reinforced by the recent El Niño.

CO₂ levels above 400ppm have not been observed in the Earth’s climate record since the Pliocene, 5.3-2.6 million years ago, when sea level was about 25 metres higher than at present.

While climate change has gained scientific attention in the past 50 years, and political action in the last 25, humans have been altering the atmosphere much longer than that.

About 7,000 years ago, the development of agriculture, burning and land clearing is believed to have led to a small rise in CO₂ in the atmosphere (around 20-25ppm). Methane also rose by a small amount from 5,000 years ago.

These small rises didn’t lead to increasing temperatures, because the overall temperature trend until the 18th century was cooling.

Humans have since increased CO₂ from 280ppm before the Industrial Revolution to over 400ppm. Together these global changes, driven by our use of energy, have led scientists to define a new geological age, the Anthropocene.

A new age

Although not yet officially recognised, the Anthropocene is widely considered to have begun in the 18th century with the release of greenhouse gases (CO₂, methane and nitrogen oxides), land clearing, chemical pollution and other human activities. These changes have accelerated since the 1950s.

Some think the Anthropocene began much earlier, linked to the first rise in greenhouse gases around 7,000 years ago. In evolutionary terms, it can be suggested the blueprint for anthropogenic global warming originated earlier still with the harnessing of fire.

The only natural parallel with the speed of climate changes over the last few decades is during mass extinctions, when the pace of change exceeds the ability of species to adapt. Mass extinctions in the past have been triggered by large-scale volcanic events or asteroid impacts.

This time it’s us causing the changes. The unique ability of an organism to trigger a mass extinction has a possible precedent in the history of Earth.

As US palaeontologist Peter Ward explains in Under Green Sky (2008), the Permian-Triassic mass extinction (about 251 million years ago) was, at least in part, caused by toxic gas released by purple-green algae from the oceans.

Fire and ice

What has made humans so effective at causing environmental change? There are two essential factors.

First, with the exception of humans, no species has ever been able to harness combustion in order to magnify its energy output. Humans mastered fire at least 1 million years ago, and possibly earlier.

Fire has allowed us to cook. Consequently, we were able to increase our protein consumption, hunt, protect ourselves from cold and wild animals, move into inhospitable climate, clear the land, smelt metals and construct machines.

Fire vastly increased the amount of energy available for people to use. Human respiration dissipates 2–10 calories per minute, a camp fire covering one square metre releases approximately three to four orders of magnitude more, and the output of a 1,000 megawatt-hour power plant expends yet higher orders of magnitude than the energy produced by human respiration.

Second, humans have been blessed by a relatively stable climate over the past 7,000 years, although mean global variations of less than 1℃ were sufficient to cause serious disruption to agriculture and a decline to collapse of civilisations.

Ice core evidence for the concentration of greenhouse gases and atmospheric temperatures during the last 740,000 years suggests highly unstable and often extreme climates during the ice ages (glacial) and during abrupt cooling phases (called “stadials”) during warmer (interglacial) periods, preventing the development of farming.

A stable climate developed around 7,000 years ago. This allowed large-scale Neolithic production of extra food and thereby the emergence of villages, towns and later cities. This opened the way for Homo sapiens to expand its population and trigger energy output by huge amounts.

Thus, despite their high intelligence, humans were largely restricted to hunting and gathering until they mastered fire and then until the climate stabilised enough to allow farming.

The future

Since the onset of the industrial age, humans have released more than 600 billion tonnes of carbon, pushing mean global temperatures up by around 1°C globally, or 1.5°C on the continents.

Allowing for the cooling effects of sulphur aerosols (which reflect sunlight), the rise in temperatures is closer to 2°C, a mean global temperature similar to the Pliocene (2.6 - 5.3 million years ago). More recently the rise of atmospheric CO₂ accelerated, to rates higher than 3ppm per year during 2012-2016.

While we know a lot about what may happen in a warming world, widely agreed projections of future temperatures do not include the possibility of abrupt climate tipping point events.

Following the peak of previous warm periods, the Atlantic Mid-Ocean Circulation (AMOC) has repeatedly collapsed due to the melting Greenland ice sheet and flow of cold meltwater into the ocean, triggering much colder temperatures, followed by further warming. Examples are the cold Younger Dryas (12,900-11,700 years ago) and the collapse of the North American ice sheet about 8,200 years ago.

A future AMOC collapse may be signified by a growing cold region southeast of Greenland in the North Atlantic. An AMOC collapse will trigger a sharp decline in temperatures in the North Atlantic region for a limited but unspecified period. With high atmospheric CO₂ levels, such a collapse would be followed by renewed warming.

Recent history inexorably links human civilisation to the Earth’s climate. Given its mastery of fire and nuclear fission, humanity would need to be both wise and in control if it is to avert the energy released from these sources from threatening nature and its own future.

This article is based on Climate, Fire and Human Evolution (2016) by Andrew Glikson.

Andrew Glikson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond the academic appointment above.

Australia’s east coast is recovering from a weekend of wild winds, waves and flooding, caused by a weather pattern known as an East Coast Low. Tragically, several people have died in flooding.

Parts of New South Wales have received more than 400mm of rain since Friday morning. Some places such as Canberra and Forster recorded their wettest June day on record. Waves have also caused severe coastal erosion and damaged property.

East Coast Lows are a type of low-pressure system or cyclone that occur on the Australian east coast. They are not uncommon, with about seven to eight lows a year causing widespread rainfall along the east coast, particularly during late autumn and winter. An East Coast Low in April last year caused similar damage.

But whenever they happen they raise the question: did climate change play a role?

Good news?

Climate models suggest that the cyclones that move through the global mid-latitudes, around 30° to 50°S, are moving south. This is contributing to long-term declines in winter rainfall in southwestern Australia and parts of southeast Australia.

These models also suggest that the atmospheric conditions that help East Coast Lows form could decline by between 25% and 40% by the end of the century.

In recent work, my colleagues and I looked even more closely at how climate change will affect individual East Coast Lows.

Our results also found East Coast Lows are expected to become less frequent during the cool months May-October, which is when they currently happen most often.

But there is no clear picture of what will happen during the warm season. Some models even suggest East Coast Lows may become more frequent in the warmer months.

And increases are most likely for lows right next to the east coast – just the ones that have the biggest impacts where people live.

This chart shows how the frequency of East Coast Lows could change by 2080 across May-October (left) and November-April (right). Red indicates fewer storms, while blue indicates more. Crosses show high agreement between climate models. What about the big ones?

The results in the studies I talked about above are for all low-pressure systems near the coast – about 22 per year, on average.

But it’s the really severe ones that people want to know about, like the current event, or the storm that grounded tanker Pasha Bulker in Newcastle in June 2007.

These storms are much rarer, which makes it harder to figure out what will happen in the future. Most of the models we looked at had no significant change projected in the intensity of the most severe East Coast Low each year.

Warming oceans provide more moisture, so intense rainfall is expected to increase by about 7% for each degree of global warming. East Coast Lows are no different – even during the winter, when East Coast Lows are expected to become less frequent, the frequency of East Coast Lows with heavy rain is likely to increase.

Finally, even though there may be fewer East Coast Lows, they are occurring in an environment with higher sea levels. This means that many more properties are vulnerable to storm surges and the impact of a given storm surge is that much worse.

Was it climate change?

While the frequency of cool-season East Coast Lows looks likely to decrease in the future, changes in the big ones are a lot less certain.

However, East Coast Lows are very variable in frequency and hard to predict. So far, there hasn’t been any clear trend in the last 50 years, although East Coast Lows may have been more frequent in the past.

As for extreme rainfall, studies have found little influence of climate change on Australian extreme rainfall so far. Climate variability, such as El Niño, currently plays a much larger role. This doesn’t mean climate change is having no effect; it just means it’s hard to tell what impact a warming world is having at this stage.

So did climate change cause this weekend’s storms? No: these events, including intense ones, often occur at this time of year.

But it is harder to rule out climate change having any influence at all. For instance, what is the impact of higher sea levels on storm surges? And how much have record-warm sea temperatures contributed to rainfall and storm intensity?

We know that these factors will become more important as the climate system warms further – so as the clean-up begins, we should keep an eye on the future.

Acacia Pepler receives funding from the Australian Research Council

Drink containers are the biggest contributors to rubbish in Australia. Litter image from www.shutterstock.com

Australians are serial wasters. For every 1,000 square metres (or about four tennis courts), Australians litter about 49 pieces of rubbish. The biggest culprits are drink containers, making up five of the top nine recorded pieces of litter by volume.

One way to reduce this litter is to refund people when they deposit drink containers for recycling through container deposit recycling (CDR) schemes. South Australia and the Northern Territory have CDR schemes. In May this year, New South Wales Premier Mike Baird announced a CDR scheme for his state, to begin in July 2017.

Under the scheme most drink containers over 150ml will be eligible for a 10c refund through state-wide depots and reverse vending machines. This has re-ignited an ongoing debate, largely driven by the drinks industry, which – as previously debated on The Conversation - vociferously opposes these schemes.

Refunds work

As part of the NSW process, we at BehaviourWorks Australia at Monash University recently reviewed research and data from 47 examples of CDR schemes or trials around the world. This work was commissioned by, but independent of, the NSW Environment Protection Authority.

The 47 CDR schemes recovered an average of 76% of drink containers. In the United States, beverage container recovery rates for aluminium, plastic and glass in the 11 CDR states are 84%, 48% and 65% respectively, compared with 39%, 20% and 25% in non-CDR states. The figures are similar in South Australia, one of the longest-running CDR schemes in the world: 84%, 74% and 85% for cans, plastic and glass compared with national averages of 63%, 36% and 36%.

Some CDR schemes donate the refund to charity, but people are more likely to return a container for a refund. And the greater the refund, the greater the return rates. Most schemes refund 5-10c; the 11 schemes in Canadian provinces include those with refund rates as high as 40c for glass containers over 1 litre in Saskatchewan.

CDR schemes reduce litter overall. Data from seven US states show 69–83% reductions in container waste and 30–47% reductions in overall waste.

Finally, government CDR schemes are sustainable. The 40 government schemes worldwide have operated for an average of 24.8 years and all except two are still going.

Industry opposition

CDR schemes work, so why do they face continued opposition from the drinks industry?

The first major argument against is cost – to the public, to producers, to jobs and to government via, for example, a reduction in alcohol tax revenues due to reduced sales.

We found little published evidence to support these claims. The few studies identified were either funded by the beverage industry or theoretical arguments without any empirical data. Manufacturers and consumers will share the costs of the NSW CDR scheme, with consumers paying an estimated A$30 into the scheme annually should they not redeem any deposits.

The most robust cost data, the Packaging Impacts Decision Regulation Impact Statement, was prepared for the Australian government in 2014. This found that CDR schemes were more expensive than other packaging recovery and recycling options, but reduced litter the most.

The question of whether the cost is worth the return is an important aspect of the debate, and one that should be considered not just by the beverage industry but by all stakeholders, including the wider community.

Can industry do the job?

The second argument against government CDR schemes is that industry can recycle containers itself. Examples to support this argument are sparse and unconvincing.

In 2010, Coca-Cola launched a reverse vending machine scheme in Dallas Fort-Worth, Texas, with a target of 3 million beverage containers recycled per month. The scheme folded in October 2014, having achieved roughly a quarter of this target.

PepsiCo’s ongoing Dream Machine initiative of college-based reverse vending machines commenced in April 2010 with the goal of increasing the US beverage container recycling rate from 34% to 50% by 2018. It reported collection of over 93 million containers by 2012. Although an impressive-sounding yield, achieving the target of a 50% recycling rate would require multiplying this effort 400-fold.

These examples illustrate that industry-based CDR schemes appear either unsustainable or lack realistic targets.

Replacing recycling?

Thirdly, it is argued that CDR schemes will cannibalise existing kerbside recycling programs. The evidence suggests that the effect, if any, is the reverse – marginal increases in kerbside recycling have been noted following introduction of CDR legislation.

This may be linked to the “spillover effect” where people are more likely to do one thing if they are already doing something similar. The data from CDR schemes suggest that people may be more inclined to use kerbside recycling simply by buying a drink with a container deposit, not just getting the refund. As an example, South Australia’s overall recycling rate in 2008–2009 was 67%, against a national average of 51%.

Behavioural research also tells us that convenience is a major factor in CDR schemes, particularly how close collections are to people’s homes. Vending machines are perceived as convenient but data on whether they work are mixed.

There is also robust evidence that clean environments are likely to remain cleaner (than otherwise would be the case) and that littered environments are likely to attract more litter.

This underlines the findings from research that CDR schemes not only increase beverage container recycling, but reduce litter. Ongoing CDR debate should be informed by research evidence and involve all stakeholders in this multifaceted issue.

BehaviourWorks Australia received funding for this commissioned review from the NSW Environment Protection Authority. This funding was paid to Monash University, not any of the authors personally.

BehaviourWorks Australia received funding for this commissioned review from the NSW Environment Protection Authority. This funding was paid to Monash University, not any of the authors personally.

BehaviourWorks Australia received funding for this commissioned review from the NSW Environment Protection Authority. This funding was paid to Monash University, not any of the authors personally.

AAP/Paul Miller

With an unprecedented storm flooding large population centres on Australia’s east coast over the weekend, you would be forgiven for thinking politicians on the campaign trail might pause to reflect on climate change.

On the other side of the world, France and much of west and northern Europe are also experiencing extensive floods. They are unprecedented in the speed at which they have deluged cities and communities.

Climate change did not overdetermine these floods in Australia and Europe. But, it has super-charged their intensity and speed in a way that would make them rare in the past.

The weather patterns are complex, but the climate change part of the science is less so. Every 1℃ increase in global average temperature means the atmosphere can hold 7% more water vapour. This means that when moist air condenses into rainfall, it is capable of coming down for much longer and in much greater volume than it did in pre-industrial times.

Climate change is not about some kind of linear increase in temperature. It is about an increase in energy in the climate system that produces extremes – in drought, storms, wind, heatwaves and floods. Floods are just one of the expressions of the violence of the excess energy.

Analysis from the Potsdam Institute for Climate Impact Research, published last year and reported in the New York Times, showed record-breaking rainfall has increased 12% from 1980 to 2010 compared to the previous 80 years. In Europe, the increase was 31%. This is because the northern hemisphere temperature anomalies are so much greater than the south.

In France, the floods are getting attention as they are affecting globally recognised public treasures such as artwork at the Louvre and Musee d’Orsay. Paris hasn’t experienced a flood of this magnitude in more than 30 years, and certainly not one that has accumulated at the speed of this one.

This has moved French President Francois Hollande to link the flood to climate change, only six months after the climate summit held in Paris last December.

But, in Australia, at the midway point of an election campaign, the leaders of the major parties failed to mention our floods. Malcolm Turnbull aired the hang-up he shares with Bill Shorten about avoiding a hung parliament to shore up their own political power.

Ironically, a hung parliament might lead to power-sharing with the one party likely to drive effective action on climate – the Greens.

The Great Barrier Reef visits Australian voters

At a time when some are “reef-stricken” about the pending loss of coral at one of the world’s greatest natural wonders, many are oblivious to the seriousness of the bleaching process. While Environment Minister Greg Hunt would like to take credit for management of the Great Barrier Reef, the greatest palpable threat to the reef is warming sea-surface temperatures.

Just days after it was revealed the Australian government had lobbied for the removal of an entire chapter on the reef from a UN report, Hunt applauded his own management of the reef.

With the current floods, we are now seeing the hangover from the record sea surface temperatures that emerged in the last six months. This has devastated 93% of the reef.

But the leaders appear to be afraid of any kind of contest, let alone one on climate change. Last week’s highly scripted leaders’ debate largely dodged climate change, despite persistent questioning from Financial Review journalist Laura Tingle.

There is a growing indication that voters are taking extreme weather into their deliberations around climate policy. Even though mainstream media is notoriously bad at linking extreme weather to climate change, which is taboo for many Coalition MP’s, voters make this link themselves simply by experiencing it on an ever-more regular basis.

Even Deputy Prime Minister Barnaby Joyce, one of the eight-member kill-the-carbon-tax group that met every week in Cory Bernardi’s office, is having second thoughts. A feature article in the Sydney Morning Herald had him questioning his faith in Coalition groupthink.

After visiting his parents parched landholding in Rutherglen, Joyce declared:

I start to wonder whether climate change might really be happening.

This phenomena is an example of what 350.org founder Bill McKibben said at the end of what he regarded as a failed climate summit in Paris. Without an effective agreement, there is only one negotiation that remains: with physics itself. And physics actually holds all the cards.

As voters confront the physics or – put another way – extreme weather visits upon us, climate change becomes depoliticised.

But, in ignoring the physics, the cowardly climate stance that the major party leaders have taken is likely to backfire. Both leaders set out from the position that climate change has become so politicised that swinging voters are more likely to change their voter intention on other issues such as “jobs and growth”, education and hospitals.

A telling statistic here comes from three weeks of data collected by the ABC’s Vote Compass. 63% of the 250,000 respondents now want to see a price on carbon in Australia, compared to 50% in 2013.

But, more significantly, the shift was most marked in Coalition voters. There is a 13% increase in those wanting a price on carbon (41% agree, 22% are neutral).

These figures have prompted former Liberal leader John Hewson to challenge the idea that the Coalition’s 2013 campaign to “axe the tax” won it the last election.

As the Mona Lisa makes its way to higher ground, and Australians are asked to stay indoors across four states, the reality of climate change continues to assert itself. While they may be in denial, politicians cannot dismiss climate change as an issue that comes and goes. It is here to stay for today’s voters and for every election to come.