Are Forests Renewable?

Dear Friends,

A few months back, I came across this photo of Greta Thunberg and her friends holding up a sign that reads “forests are not renewable,” and I’ve been marinating on the idea—and what it means within the larger climate conversation—ever since.

On the one hand, we can plant trees again. And there is some essential hope lodged in that fact, like the germ in a seed. But a collection of trees does not a forest make. And monocrop tree plantations designed to shore up carbon (and earn carbon credits) have, to some eyes, become a symbol of a fragmented, piecemeal approach to the climate crisis.

Rebecca Solnit put it well in a March op-ed for the Guardian when she said, “Pretending that trees are our atmospheric janitorial service belies both the ways that forests across the globe are devastated by the climate crisis…and that planting trees does not necessarily result in a healthy long-lasting forest.”

I grew up surrounded by orchards, so I have long seen trees as physical manifestations of time. They can take years to mature and decades—if not centuries—to become truly interwoven in their surrounding ecosystems. (If you’ve been lucky enough to plant a tree, you’ve probably considered the likelihood that it will outlive you.) But the reliance on eucalyptus and other faster-growing species in tree plantations—and the push to develop genetically engineered trees that will sequester carbon faster—can seem like a hubristic move to rush nature.

It would be one thing if we were merely talking about how to replace all the trees we’ve already lost, but as more forests are managed for wildfires the process also involves removing some trees while simultaneously planting and making space for others, making for an incredibly complex equation.

In my effort to understand all this, I spoke with Evan Frost, a forest ecologist who works with landowners and federal agencies to help them manage forests up and down the West Coast. He has a lot to say about the need to rethink our collective approach to protecting our forests. Here’s a (lightly edited) excerpt of our conversation:

Let's start with that renewable question. Are forests “renewable”?

The real crux of that statement rests on the difference between trees and forests. Obviously you can cut a tree down and plant a new one, and it'll more or less replicate what was taken away. But forests are infinitely more complex; there's so much that we don't yet know about how they work. So if we log a forest in a dramatic way, we have evidence that we're not going to get the same forest back.

Now, that doesn't necessarily mean you can't remove trees from forests and still have the forest sustain itself, so there's a lot of gray area in there. But there's a lot of legitimacy to the idea that forests aren't renewable, because we don't even know what we're renewing in a lot of cases. And if we take into account the changing climate and all the other things that are stressing forests and altering them in ways that we haven't seen for a long time—if ever—it’s clear that forests are in trouble worldwide.

In the common thought process, we often think of tree plantations as forests—but if we're talking about the kind of forests that have existed here for millennia, they're not forests. They don't provide many of the same ecological values. They're not as resilient to insects or disease or fire. They're also not reliable as sinks for carbon, either.

The fire piece is important. Can you talk about the relationship between logging and thinning forests as a way to make them more resilient to wildfires?

We're often replacing large trees—[those] that have evolved with low-intensity fire, that have thick barks and other adaptations that allow them to resist fire—with relatively dense stands of young trees that don't have those traits. And there's lots of science that shows that they just don't have any resiliency to fire.

There’s a gap between what the science says and how fuels reduction or thinning projects are actually happening on the ground, especially on federal lands. The science is quite clear that a lot of these fire-suppressed forests, where the big trees have been removed, are now much denser, and they can benefit if we reduce the density of smaller trees. But a lot of those trees don't have much commercial value, if any; they’re less than 100 years old. So it's pretty clear [that those trees need to be thinned],but on the ground they're often removing legacy trees that are over 150 years old instead. They are still the best that we have out there, and they’re the cornerstone of recovery. [Here’s a recent example in Vermont.]

That must be really frustrating to see, repeatedly.

It is. And that's probably why I just keep posting about it. Because I'm interested in really bringing it to the attention of more people that, “Hey, we know [forest thinning] can be a good thing, but look at how it's actually being done.”

How do you think about the future of some of these Western forests?

It's not looking good. I think people who see my Twitter feed think, “This guy's really pessimistic.” But I'm just reporting primarily on what I see as a practitioner and what I've seen in the science. One study in particular on what [scientists] call zombie forests found that 20 percent of the trees [won’t be able to produce a future generation of trees], and once they're gone, they're not coming back.

That's pretty eye opening if you let that in: 20 percent of the Sierra forests are basically living dead. And I'll be surprised if I hear that from any of the land management agencies—they don't want to talk about it. And it's likely true for most of the forests in Southern California, as well. The mountain forests outside of the Sierra are under the same kinds of climatic pressure. These large, intense fires, and the kind of setup that we've created through our past management mistakes—we're not going to turn that around overnight.

Are there parts of the country where you think we should be working to protect older, larger trees that are still in the ground?

We don't have a lot of what would be classified as “old growth” left, but we have a lot of mature or maturing forests that have reestablished since very early, historic disturbances, and they're now just starting to get into those phases where they're more complex, providing a lot more ecological services and storing more carbon. Conceivably that could be almost all the forests east of the Mississippi River, and it's really important that we allow them to get better going forward. In the West, the question is: How do we help nudge forests toward a condition where they can do better in the face of all the challenges that they face? That requires more intervention, but it has to be ecologically informed. Otherwise, we're just going to be repeating our mistakes.

Are there places where you see people doing it right?

One that I've been involved with, to some extent, is in southwest Oregon, in the watershed of the city of Ashland. It's on the Rogue River Siskiyou National Forest, right behind the city. And they've done a lot of thinning, a lot of prescribed burning, but with a pretty light touch. And there are still quite a few large trees in there.

I've also worked on some private [land] where we've done some really good stewardship work, clearing out small trees and creating more complexity in the forest, reducing fuels, and doing prescribed burning wherever we can. Fire is really the key element.

I'm curious to hear your thoughts about efforts to give the Yurok and Karuk Nations and other tribal communities throughout the West more latitude and support in bringing back their traditional burn practices?

Those tribes have a lot of expertise; they've worked with these landscapes for a long time. There has been a lot of knowledge loss, but there's also a lot of connection to those places and that’s important. So yeah, I'd like to see more of it. You know, oftentimes, with cultural burning they have very specific objectives in mind, like increasing acorn crops or producing new growth for basketry. And it's complimentary to some of the broad-scale fire applications that we need, even if it doesn't necessarily replace it.

A bristlecone pine.

How do you talk about the future of our forests with people who are less engaged or too overwhelmed to listen?

It's a big challenge. I think a lot of people working in relation to climate in various ways face that same challenge. Sometimes I think the easiest way is to just bring it down to something very concrete, like the individual places that people know and care about, or something like the recent loss of so many giant sequoia in California, or the loss of the bristlecone pines, which are some of the oldest trees in the world—they were thousands of years old, and they just died. Those kinds of things can cut through for some people.

I do the best to divorce my actions from outcomes. So, I'm not necessarily posting about these things because I think it'll lead to a particular outcome, but because it's an expression of what I care about. This is just who I am, so to not do anything about it is to deny who I am.

Climate news you might have missed

Dolly says the world is on fire, but leaves the rest vague
Dolly Parton’s new song about climate change has gotten a lot of attention this week. While the burning-globe-as-skirt visual was super impressive, and I have a place in my heart for Dolly’s ability to walk to the political razor’s edge at a time when very few celebrities can command such a purple audience, I’m also a little disappointed in the song itself. After the important line “still got time to turn it all around,” the song goes on to suggest that we can do that by “showing some love,” “rising above,” and remembering common decency. Depending on who you see as the “liars” (i.e., whether you watch CNN or Fox News), the lyrics can be read a number of different ways. Her April interview with National Geographic about the environmental efforts she’s funding in the Great Smoky Mountains—one of the most biodiverse places left in the country—was equally noncommittal and focused largely on work to protect bald eagles in the region. That said, the fact that Dolly is willing to say, out loud, that the “world is on fire” is no small thing.

Now, on to the actual fires
Speaking of fire, this week’s heat dome didn’t help the situation in Alberta, Canada, where over 400 wildfires have burned in the last few weeks, often causing mass evacuation. Many of the fires had been put out, but the recent unseasonable temperatures and humidity drop—at a time of the year before there aren’t many leaves on the trees—have sparked new ones.

Subways cut emissions in half
A recent study of satellite data looked at the 192 cities around the world that are home to subway systems and found that they reduced population-related CO2 emissions by 50 percent. That’s a persuasive number, and it makes a strong case for construction of more underground mass transit moving forward. Now we just need to talk about how to make subways safer places for women and people of color.

Rights of Nature law stops mine in Ecuador
I’m fascinated and encouraged by the many efforts taking place around the globe to recognize the legal “rights of nature,” the acknowledgment that nonhuman life forms have the right to exist and stay healthy rather than be treated like property. You may have followed the effort in Lake Erie (where pollution has engendered aquatic life) a few years back, where the rights were ruled unconstitutional shortly after they were granted.

In 2008, Ecuador added a Rights of Nature law to its constitution, and now a community in the Tropical Andes, an Ecuadorian biodiversity hotspot, has stopped a copper-mining project from moving forward by pointing to nature’s constitutional rights.

Meanwhile, this week Ecuadorian leaders brokered a fascinating deal to trade some of the nation’s debt for its promise to preserve the wide range of plant and animal species on and around the Galapagos Islands. The NYT calls it the “biggest debt-for-nature swap in history.”

Powering India
India has announced a potential plan to stop building new coal-fired power plants, aside from those already in the pipeline. This is important because India and China are now burning the bulk—an estimated 80 percent—of the world’s coal. India is also now the home to some of the largest solar arrays in the world, including one that is nearly the size of Manhattan.

Among the top-10 highest-emitting countries, India ranks number 10, despite having a population of 1.4 billion people. The United States, meanwhile, is No. 1 with only 330 million people—just our latest reminder that the wealthiest nations are the largest emitters. And those top-10 emitting countries? They’re responsible for a whopping two-thirds of all global emissions. This is all worth keeping in mind the next time you encounter messaging that suggests there’s a simple relationship between our world’s growing population and the climate crisis.

Is Elon Musk harming or helping Tesla sales?
Heatmap, the new project from Robinson Meyer that is uncovering a lot of great survey-based data related to the climate crisis, had this gem to share this week: “Some 36% of Americans who want to buy an EV in the future say Elon Musk’s actions are making them less likely to get a Tesla.” But that number is only “slightly larger than the 31% of prospective EV buyers who say that Musk is making them more [emphasis mine] likely to purchase a Tesla.” Musk is clearly banking on the latter group, and I can’t help but wonder how many of them are also Dolly Parton fans.

If they can do it

Two young people who inspired me this week:

Lauren MacDonald, a 22-year-old climate activist who took the podium at the annual general meeting for Norwegian oil company Equinor, which is currently developing the Rosebank oil field in the North Sea. “You know that if the oil in Rosebank is burnt, it will create more CO2 than 28 entire countries produce in a year combined,” she told shareholders.

Charitie Ropati, a 21-year-old researcher and Alaska Native studying the relationship between fireweed and climate change, told Alaska Public Radio:

“For Native people, fireweed growth is an indicator of change, an indicator of changes coming, when a new season is coming. My research validates that preexisting knowledge.”

The Visual

1. Water mapping using crochet, by Andrew Hahn

2. A tree gets moved in Japan to make room for a road, by Debbie Banks

3. A collection of walnut shells, by Jonas Frei

That’s it for now, friends. Stay strong and keep heart.

Twilight