EXPLORE | THE BIG IDEA
We need to shift away
from a detached, exploitive
relationship with nature
toward one that is close,
protective, and regenerative.times as much as clear-cuts. As the old trees age,
they continue to store carbon in their boles and
sequester it into soils where it is protected. Added
all together, the world’s forests and their soils store
about 90 percent of global terrestrial carbon.
Soon we stepped into another clear-cut, where
the sun had burned and dried leaves of the tiny, old-
growth-dependent plants. The fallen ancient trees
were lying in parallel, pointing toward the mill, where
they’d be turned into shingles, sawdust, the odd
soundboard. Studies have confirmed that logging
old-growth forests releases 40 to 65 percent of eco-
system carbon to the atmosphere (even when off-site
storage of carbon in wood products is factored in).
The young defenders were already on the gravel
when I crawled up the final pitch onto the road-
bed. I was shaking, not just from the exertion, but
from the trauma of what was to come. Our police
escort was waiting. As I walked toward the truck, I
noticed the chocolate brown humus layer revealed
by the roadcut, six feet thick and rich with carbon.
About half of the carbon in this forest was stored
in this layer, the other half in the trees. Once the
forest floor is pushed around by the clear-cutting
machinery and exposed to the air, about 60 percent
of the carbon is lost through displacement, erosion,
and decomposition. My research also suggests that
ultimately 90 percent is lost when the replacement
tree plantations are logged again.BEFORE THE POLICEMAN pushed one of the defenders
into the cab, he muttered that he was saving her
from her own stupidity. I knew better than to argue.
But as we rolled down the mountain, I started to
explain that it takes decades for clear-cut forests
to stop emitting more carbon than they sequester
and centuries more to recover the sink strength of
the original tree stands. That we don’t have decades
for these forests to recover from clear-cutting. That
in the hundred years it takes for a forest to mature,
our planet is projected to warm by upwards of five
degrees Celsius (nine degrees Fahrenheit), eliciting
mass diebacks, pandemics, and starvations.
I don’t know if the cop heard, but I kept talking,
because our lives depend on scientists speaking
out and people taking action. In British Columbia,
we have only 3 percent of iconic valley-bottom old-
growth trees left, and we are gunning to log those
too. The same story is playing out worldwide.A month later, the rains started and the ancient
cedar matriarch and her forest were felled.
The rains continued. After one more month, the
soils—denuded of trees—eroded, the rivers swelled,
and in parts of the province, towns flooded.WHAT CAN BE DONE so that next time this story ends
differently?
First, we must stop converting natural forests to
industrial plantations and agricultural fields. The
commitment by governments to end global defor-
estation by 2030 is a good first step—but the pledge
needs to include ending industrial forestry practices
too. Corporations need to take responsibility for the
damage and emissions they create in pursuit of profit.
Second, we can take immediate action to protect
and restore old-growth forest ecosystems.
Third, we can press for land management policies
that restore plantations back to natural forests, where
we selectively harvest at a lower rate to preserve bio-
diversity, water supply, and carbon storage. By taxing
forest carbon emissions, we could restore cultural and
social equity to rural and Indigenous communities,
rewarding the stewards with what the polluters pay.
This is an easy tool to bring about a just transition.
Fourth, we need climate policies that put as
much emphasis on protecting forest carbon sinks
and preventing emissions from logging as they do
on preventing fossil fuel emissions.
And finally, we need to shift away from a detached,
exploitive relationship with nature toward one that
is close, protective, and regenerative.
We all can learn from the Indigenous Coast Salish
people of the Pacific Northwest, who have long known
that trees are our kin and that the forest is made of
many nations living side by side in peace. This com-
munal spirit will be essential for building alliances,
forming a web that binds us, makes us stronger, and
helps us protect our forests for future generations. jSuzanne Simard is a professor of forest ecology at
the University of British Columbia and the author of
Finding the Mother Tree: Discovering the Wisdom
of the Forest. She wrote the foreword for the new
National Geographic book Into the Forest, available
wherever books are sold and at books.disney.com.ABOUT THE AUTHOR