The catastrophic environmental damage from Australia’s bushfires of 2019-20 is still playing out, but scientists now have a clear picture of what was been lost in that unprecedented summer and lessons that can be learned. It is set out in a recent book, Australian Megafires, which brings together the research and analysis of more than 200 experts in their field.
The scale of the impact is so vast that it is hard to get your head around. Fire burned the entire known habitat – every part of it – of more than 500 plant and animal species. At least 100 species that were already threatened with extinction before black summer had more than 50% of their habitat burnt. About 350 species and ecosystems either became threatened for the first time or were pushed closer to extinction.
The book reinforces that this was a watershed moment in the deterioration of the Australian environment. In some cases scientists cannot know what was lost because what was there had never been documented. We have a particularly poor understanding of insects and other invertebrates (scientists estimate only about 30% have been formally identified) and fungi. Both play a crucial role in forest ecosystems and sustaining other life.
The fires came as many of the country’s ecosystems were already in long-term decline. Last year’s shocking state of the environment report tells this story. Nearly half the country’s forests and woodlands have been destroyed. We’re still clearing hundreds of thousands of hectares of native forest and converting it to grazing land, housing estates and burned out plantation sites.
Australia is the only developed nation recognised as a hotspot for deforestation. Nineteen ecosystems are at risk of collapse. Invasive species are killing and displacing endemic species. Above it all hangs the climate crisis – an omni-threat that has already driven at least one mammal species, the Bramble Cay melomys, to extinction.
Environmental destruction is, of course, a global story. The latest Living Planet report by WWF estimated the average number of animals in more than 31,000 species populations across the planet had crashed by nearly 70% since 1970. The forests of eastern Australia are among the areas considered particularly at risk, having been included on a shortlist of biologically rich but threatened regions.
It is easy to feel hopeless in the face of this avalanche of awful news, but that doesn’t get us far. We should start by acknowledging the evidence of sharp decline is real and qualifies as a national emergency as important as discussions about, to pick one example, defence and national security. Beyond its intrinsic value, a healthy environment is crucial to human wellbeing and survival.
The authors of Australian Megafires make a simple case: that change can only come when nature is prioritised. They give a standout example in dealing with bushfire. In early 2020, a team of remote area firefighters was deployed to save the only known surviving strand of Wollemi pines – “dinosaur trees” that existed up to 200m years ago – from fire in the Blue Mountains. It happened because the then state government chose protecting this unique wilderness over other considerations.
These success stories are rare. More often, the environment has to settle for rhetoric, best wishes and pockets of funding too small to make a real difference. It is too early to say whether this will prove the case with the Albanese government, but there are some concerning signs.
The environment minister, Tanya Plibersek, started in the portfolio by setting high benchmarks against which her performance will be measured. At the National Press Club last July, she was justifiably scornful of the performance of the former Coalition government, which slashed funding for environment programs and failed to fix conservation laws. She promised real change, declaring that “under Labor the environment is back on the priority list”.
Ten months on, we are yet to see evidence of this change. There are some excuses. Plibersek landed in the portfolio unexpectedly and developing policy takes time. But responding to the crisis requires whole-of-government backing. Labor spent next to no time on environment policy in the last parliament and held back its few commitments until the day before the election. We’re seeing the flow-on effects from that now.
Aside from $260m to repair national park infrastructure and ongoing support for work on the Great Barrier Reef, nature has barely rated a mention in the lead-up to next week’s federal budget. It is not expected to feature significantly on Tuesday, just as it didn’t in the Albanese government’s first budget last October.
Since taking on the portfolio, Plibersek has set some headline targets, including a vague goal of “zero extinctions”, focused on only 110 of about 1,900 threatened species. Legislation has been introduced to create a “nature repair market”, which the government says will encourage businesses to pay to protect the environment. In return, they would receive certificates to basically say they are good corporate citizens. It is an expansion of a pilot proposed by the Coalition shortly before it lost power.
Small problem: market-solutions have so far failed to stop nature destruction, let alone drive its repair. As Guardian Australia has shown, there are examples close to home where they have exacerbated it.
Even experts who believe markets can make a difference (and that increased corporate disclosure about nature risk is inevitable) say there is little reason to think businesses will soon be lining up to voluntarily invest at scale. It is, at best, a weird place for a government that has promised transformational change to start.
It has come ahead of what should be a more substantial reform: a promised revamp of national conservation laws, including the creation of a national environment protection agency. The details that will determine whether that is a success are still months away.
As Prof Euan Ritchie argued this week, none of these policies are likely to deliver what is required unless backed by a substantial rise in public investment. Experts have a magic figure: about $2bn a year, over 30 years. It sounds big, but isn’t in the context of the budget, and could be enough to help restore the degraded ecosystems that Australia’s unique wildlife relies on.
It is just a question of priorities.
Adam Morton is Guardian Australia’s climate and environment editor