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Trump in the Anthropocene

The president’s pathologies point to why we got an “Anthropocene” in the first place

By Christopher Schaberg

Republished from here:

Beach trash

Photos by Christopher Schaberg

When I teach my Literature & Environment class at Loyola University New Orleans, one of the first lessons I try to get across is a tricky one: Nature with a capital N is an artificial construct. This doesn’t mean that there’s no such thing as nature, but rather, it’s not something over there, detached from human life. Nature is, if anything, everything. Writing about nature—and reading across the history of nature writing—can bring this into sharp relief, as we see how different authors use rhetorical strategies and narrative and poetic devices to make nature appear more like Nature. So-called environmental writers are often very good at defamiliarizing the very stuff of life, if then to make readers pay attention and care for it all the more. 

The day after the Women’s March on Washington, I took my children to the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History. Amid the myriad exhibits, I was struck by one piece of signage nestled into a wall within the aquatic-life room. It was a sort of brief informative essay about the Anthropocene, a word that is used to describe human impact as having a geologic force on our planet. The sign diplomatically wondered whether or not this term should be used: Can we be so bold as to name an entire geological era after our arguably still young species? One way of answering this question is that we do it all the time, simply by rendering nature as something other than human in the first place. In other words, the Anthropocene has lurked as a cultural habit for a long time, before the word even emerged. It spilled out of smokestacks just as it infested 19th-century poems and essays named after “Nature.” 

It’s one thing to consider the Anthropocene when the incumbent political establishment acknowledges the significance of things like pollution, climate change, national parks, environmental protections, and so on. In such an atmosphere, we can have spirited debates about the implications of the concept of the Anthropocene, highlighting its different valences or offering alternative words. But this piece in the museum got me thinking: How are we to comprehend the Anthropocene in an age of a new president, a leader who seems utterly unmoved by ecological thought? Does the term become another disparaged “big word” that loses all traction given a regime of swift deregulations and defunding of scientific and precautionary research? In short, now that we are seeing the swift rolling back of so many careful measures put in place over the past several decades, how are we to understand Trump in relation to the Anthropocene? 

Beach trashI’ve been turning this over in my mind as I take walks along the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, picking up beach trash. This stuff washes up on shore and accumulates, especially after a big storm. It’s a mishmash usually consisting of balloon strings, plastic bottles, bottle caps, and tiny fragments of larger plastic containers. It’s a local snapshot of a global problem, one that we have come to know particularly well by the name Great Pacific Garbage Patch—that floating island in the Pacific Ocean the size of Texas, made of micro-plastics and other debris. These miniscule objects wreak havoc on certain bird species and other life forms, changing the planet demonstrably by threatening extinctions and upsetting the balances of ecosystems. Human waste has become such a vast thing, spread out across the globe, evident by traces and in glimpses but impossible to see as a totality—what environmental philosopher Timothy Morton would call a “hyperobject.” We’re responsible for it, and yet it seems completely elusive and beyond our grasp. Each day when I go back down to the beach, I fill another bag with these particulates of disposable fun, the detritus of so many summer vacations and freshwater boat rides. 

But how does Trump figure into this? 

For one, we cannot dismiss him or his policies as unnatural. Instead, as counterintuitive as this may sound, we have to acknowledge Trump as endemic to, and symptomatic of, the current state of our world. His bullying tweets and destructive executive orders; his prioritizing dirty fossil fuels over clean renewable energy; his “us versus them” and “America first” ethic all expose the very same pathologies that got us an “Anthropocene” in the first place. In a perverse way, then, Trump could end up making the Anthropocene a lot less controversial or debatable—he will make it chillingly obvious. His curiously ecological “swamp” metaphor appears quainter than ever. 

In the offing of his presidency, we can see individuals and collectives rallying around causes that we may have assumed a few months ago were settled matters. It was never just about a fabulist wetland that could or should be “drained”—what an odd idea—but rather a whole fragile, enmeshed planet with rising sea levels. And we’re here for the duration. 

If the downside of the Anthropocene is that we as a species have brought the planet to (or even beyond) the brink of mass extinction and environmental collapse, the upside might be that we can acknowledge this and become, to use a buzzword, proactive and conscious participants in this epoch. What would that look like? 

It wouldn’t look like the ultra-wealthy pursuing habitation on other planets, or fortifying nuclear-proof bunkers in Kansas. It would involve slower processes, such as community engagement, commitment to ecological education, and undoing our most wasteful and destructive habits. It would mean rethinking economic models and income gaps. It would mean trying, consciously and conscientiously, to bring about more balance rather than less, ecologically speaking. We have to work toward these things, even while knowing that there is no pure state of natural balance—flux is always the only game in town. We’re not trying for perfect harmony—we’re trying to survive, maybe even restore and better appreciate some of the biodiversity we have destroyed on our planet. And within these dynamic ecosystems, amid rampant threats and possible recoveries, how will we live out our time? What legacies will we leave, for our future generations and in the eventual fossil record, long after humans are gone? 

These are serious questions that demand serious answers—not impulsive reactions or the frantic shoring up of resources. If we truly wish to treat human life with dignity, we cannot detach humanity from the whole planet, in all its intricacies and ongoing pulsations. The hubris of Trump might end up revealing the humility of humans living in—and working with—the Anthropocene. It’s an endless project—at least while we’re here. But it’s the project we cannot help but be part of, whether we like it or not.   

Addressing the Anthropocene from the Global South: integrating paleoecology, archaeology and traditional knowledge for COP engagement

 ECHOES&#x; ECHOESVerónica Zuccarelli Freire1*Michael J. Ziegler1,2Victor Caetano-Andrade2Victor Iminjili1Rebecca Lellau1Freg Stokes3Rachel C. Rudd2Danielle Heberle Viegas2S. Yoshi Maezumi1Gopesh Jha1,4Mariya Antonosyan1Deepak Kumar Jha1,5Ricarda Winkelmann1Patrick Roberts1,2,5,6Laura Furquim2,7

  • 1Department of Archaeology, Max Planck Institute of Geoanthropology, Jena, Germany
  • 2isoTROPIC Research Group, Max Planck Institute of Geoanthropology, Jena, Germany
  • 3Department of Structural Changes in the Technosphere, Max Planck Institute of Geoanthropology, Jena, Germany
  • 4Institute of Archaeological Science, Eberhard-Karls-Universität Tübingen, Tübingen, Germany
  • 5School of Archaeology, University of the Philippines, Quezon City, Philippines
  • 6School of Culture, History and Language, Australian National University, Canberra, ACT, Australia
  • 7Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, University of São Paulo, SãoPaulo, Brazil

The triple planetary crisis of climate change, pollution, and biodiversity loss necessitates more holistic, comprehensive, and integrated public policy approaches. Within the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, this crisis highlights significant conflicts over forms of knowledge and conceptualization, affecting how international policies are formed. Indigenous knowledge systems have become increasingly acknowledged for their vital role in addressing the challenges of the Anthropocene. Conferences of the Parties institutions like the International Indigenous Peoples Forum on Climate Change emphasize the critical, although not always recognized, importance of Indigenous territories, which contain eighty percent of the world’s biodiversity. Here, we show that research in paleoecology, archaeology and history demonstrates the long-term significance of traditional knowledge and Indigenous land management practices for contemporary ecosystem dynamics. Drawing from these varied studies and perspectives also reveal the socio-economic inequalities resulting from centuries of European colonialism. We showcase three case studies on; (i) pastoralism in eastern Africa, (ii) natural resource management in southeast Asia and (iii) adaptation to sea level rise in the Caribbean, which touch upon highly diverse human resilience strategies across space and time. Despite efforts at the COP28 to accelerate climate action and incorporate diverse knowledge systems, significant challenges remain. The need for a pluralistic knowledge, rather than a one-size-fits-all approach, blending scientific language with artistic and narrative forms, is proposed as critical for fostering effective communication and developing more effective and equitable solutions for global environmental governance.

1 Introduction

The current triple planetary crisis, represented by the entanglement of climate change, pollution and biodiversity loss, emphasizes an urgent need for more holistic approaches to public policy making. Specifically, this crisis highlights conflicts regarding forms of knowledge and conceptualization (Haraway, 2016), and how they translate into international policy-making schemes1. The Conferences of the Parties (COP) on Climate Change is a key forum where actions to tackle global crises are discussed and legally binding agreements are formed. However, the framework by which these crises are defined directly impacts the decisions made in established sectors. The current scientific paradigm ruling the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) process reproduces a ‘representative’ program of scientific discourse as an objective realm that speaks for a muted natural world (Haraway, 2016). Marginalized groups with counter-hegemonic perspectives have, however, challenged the development structures proposed by the high-level policymakers as a one-size-fits-all2 approach to global environmental governance, and the need for more polyphonic dialogue has become evident through these UNFCCC processes.

Against this background, the significance of traditional knowledge systems practiced by Indigenous and local communities for addressing Anthropocene crises has been emphasized in recent years (IIPFCC and CIEL, 2020) through the creation of consultative forums like the International Indigenous Peoples Forum on Climate Change (IIPFCC). The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) and its subsidiary reports now recognize the importance of Indigenous territories for the Earth system, which contain around 40% of global protected areas, 80% of global biodiversity, and major carbon sinks. In addition, the Kunming-Montreal Biodiversity Framework set the goal of conserving 30% of Earth’s terrestrial, coastal and marine ecosystems as protected regions by 2030, with a partial recognition of Indigenous perspectives on nature conservation (Stephens, 2023). These reports acknowledge the disproportionate impact of the Anthropocene on these same territories and the Global South. Moreover, there is growing recognition that unequal global socioeconomic relationships and land degradation in the 21st century has been shaped by centuries of European invasion and colonization (Anderson and Bollig, 2016Roberts et al., 2023Levis et al., 2024).

When carried out in close coordination with Indigenous and local communities, paleoecological, archaeological and historical research has demonstrated, not only the long-term3 importance of Indigenous land management for contemporary ecosystem dynamics but also the historical events and processes that have led to socio-economic and Earth system inequalities in the 21st century (Levis et al., 2024). Yet, there is currently only a limited part of the COP on Climate Change negotiations that addresses these bodies of knowledge (Chakraborty and Sherpa, 2021). In this paper, we outline a preliminary program highlighting the significance of Indigenous knowledge, as well as palaeoecological, archaeological and historical studies, when considering the challenges of climate change today. By bringing together case studies focused on the Global South, we mobilize evidence for human landscape management and adaptation. We argue that understanding long-term historical processes can shed light on land use disruptions and reorganizations caused by colonialism and extractivist projects. This can be utilized for policy-making regarding adaptation and mitigation in the light of the latest COP28 outcomes.

Our approach complements (Kohler and Rockman, 2020), demonstrating how examples can be brought together to develop broader, more influential insights into how societies typically respond to climate variability. This long-term view connects with the concept of landesque capital, recognizing humans have actively invested labor in enhancing land fertility, emphasizing the positive aspects of agency and influence of human societies (Håkansson and Widgren, 2016Barca, 2020). For example, enduring traces of the past, such as anthropic soils (i.e., agricultural terraces or Amazonian Dark Earths), crop varieties, or conservation practices, represent potential assets for the present. Such positive strategies that have been disrupted by historical processes, could be widely revitalized (i.e., check-dam reconstruction in the Peruvian Andes (Branch et al., 2023), agricultural landscape reconstruction in Lake Titicaca (Erickson and Walker, 2009).

We call attention to these themes using selected examples that enable a linkage between critical challenges in the 21st century Anthropocene and deeper time human-environment interactions, including: (1) Traditional pastoralism, land management and biodiversity conservation in eastern Africa; (2) Water management, agroforestry and socio-political resilience in Greater Angkor, Cambodia; and (3) Sea level change and human adaptations to relocation in the Small Island Developing States (SIDS) of the Caribbean.

2 Connection to COP

The imbalance between developed and Least Developed Countries (LDCs) is a key issue entangled within the geopolitical disputes and negotiations of COP. Closely related to this, is the inclusion of subaltern groups that embody profound criticisms of development as an overarching goal that will lead to a sustainable future, especially when this “development” does not modify the global economic system in terms of perpetuated resource exploitation (Klier and Folguera, 2017). This often leads to other forms of extractivism, no different from fuel-based systems, that pose severe impacts to biodiversity and water resources (Svampa, 2019). For example, the replacement of a fuel-based capitalism for “Green capitalism” is a major issue in the current energy transition to reduce emissions. Many raw materials (e.g., lithium, rare minerals) needed for this transition are sourced from LDCs and/or in Indigenous communities’ ancestral lands. Indigenous communities are currently leading the critique of development (Kopenawa and Albert, 2013Cusicanqui, 2015) and how a Just Transition Scheme4 should be designed.

Since COP26, Indigenous Peoples have gained some visibility in the UNFCCC process, yet this has not directly translated into meaningful participation in land protection and human rights negotiations (Almås-Smith and Carling, 2022). The inclusion of plural knowledge systems in the UNFCCC process still carries the legacy of colonialism and inequality in terms of access to decision-making spaces (Orlove et al., 2022), hindering diverse perspectives on Climate Change and necessary responses. Additionally, the predominance of natural scientific discourse in COP assessments, poses challenges in bridging this gap and integrating plural knowledge systems (Orlove et al., 2022). Current efforts to foster negotiation spaces within the United Nations (UN) seek to bridge this gap through Indigenous Peoples’ initiatives. Specifically, the Local Communities and Indigenous Peoples Platform (LCIPP) informs key UNFCCC decision-making areas through its Facilitative Working Group. Representation in this body is composed of 50% Indigenous and 50% representatives from Parties. This body facilitates the implementation of its three functions of the LCIPP related to the preservation of traditional knowledge, increased engagement of Indigenous peoples and integrated policy-making (see UNFCCC, 2017; Decision 2/CP.23).

Considering this, how could the support for collaboration between knowledge systems be improved? We argue that although the IPCC reports are widely accessible, the possibility of engaging through them is extremely restrictive. For example, (Kohler and Rockman, 2020), note that, despite archaeology and history increasingly producing relevant climate crisis data to address contemporary issues, their impact on IPCC reports is marginal. However, it is possible to directly deliver scientific reports to the LCIPP or through collaborative UN networks (e.g., Nairobi Working Program5). We propose that our multidisciplinary approach–combining paleoenvironmental, archaeological, and historical data–offers critical potential to mediate between the views of the traditional knowledge holders and policymakers for more equitable futures (Figure 1). In that vein, pivotal themes like biodiversity conservation, deforestation and sea level rise offer insights into the long-term history of Anthropic impacts, as discussed in the following sections.

Figure 1. Schematic representation of the Triple Planetary Crisis (inner circle); connections to COP28 declarations and outcomes (middle circle); and suggested integration of key perspectives in policy making through the lenses of Paleoecology, Archaeology and Traditional and Historical knowledge (outer circle).

2.1 The archaeology of pastoralism, land management, and biodiversity conservation in Eastern Africa

Traditional pastoralism in eastern Africa involves managing livestock across nutrient-poor arid and semi-arid lands characterized by complex mobility strategies to access water and pasture (Kirkbride and Grahn, 2008; Lane, 2013; Galaty, 2021). It also involves keeping livestock in one place overnight, resulting in the accumulation of animal dung from feeding in different habitats (Shahack-Gross et al., 2008Porensky and Veblen, 2015Marshall et al., 2018). Since colonial invasion and administrative imposition, traditional pastoralism has been stigmatized as a nonadaptive, wasteful activity that damages the land (Fratkin, 2001Anderson, 2002Lankester and Davis, 2016). Contrary to this view, however, the mobility of traditional pastoralists ensures that these nutrient-rich soil patches are spread over different regions. These patches are transformed into grassy glades that continuously attract both pastoralists and wildlife (Muchiru et al., 2008Boles and Lane, 2016). An established cyclical pattern of enrichment promotes the conservation of plant, livestock and wildlife biodiversity (Porensky and Veblen, 2015). Similar habitat enrichment, via analogous forms of pastoralism that constitute a sort of ‘bioengineering’, has been documented in arid regions of the world such as Central Asia (Ventresca Miller et al., 2020) and the Andes (Branch et al., 2023).

Archaeological evidence reveals that this pastoralist-wildlife relationship dates back nearly seven millennia (Figure 2) (Sutton, 1998Shahack-Gross et al., 2008Marshall et al., 2018Storozum et al., 2021). Zooarchaeological records show that pastoralists had protein-rich diets dominated by livestock products (Gifford-Gonzalez and Kimengich, 1984Ambrose and DeNiro, 1986Leakey et al., 1943Grillo et al., 2020Bleasdale et al., 2021), rarely ate wild animals, and coexisted with hunter gatherers (Gifford-Gonzalez and Kimengich, 1984Mutundu, 2010Prendergast, 2011; Lane, 2013). Archaeological data from sites in Kenya, dating from around 3500 BCE to 500 BCE, demonstrate that nutrient-rich spots have supported healthy grassy glades for millennia (Marshall et al., 2018). Modern pastoralists also settle near these sites. Healthy grassy glades established at different times can be seen on aerial photographs of pastoral sites in eastern Africa and other parts of Africa (Boles and Lane, 2016Marshall et al., 2018).

Figure 2. World map of featured case study sites situated in the Global South (A) with a focus of Pastoralism in eastern Africa: (B) Pre-pastoralism period dominated by patchy grass and shrublands, and sustainable hunting and gathering, (C) Onset of dung accumulation by incoming pastoralists and coexistence with hunters and gatherers, (D) Continuous accumulation of dung adjacent to past settlement sites and development of grassy glades, and (E) Pastoralists, hunters and gatherers, and wildlife facing calamities as a result of marginalization by modern land management strategies.

Policies implemented by colonial administrations in eastern Africa were designed to suppress traditional pastoralism, but have had a negative impact on biodiversity conservation (Anderson, 2002Notenbaert et al., 2012Lankester and Davis, 2016). The creation of country boundaries, White Highlands and Native Reserves6, as well as livestock ranches, and national wildlife parks resulted in pastoralists losing almost half of the best grazing land and the fragmentation of livestock and wildlife into restricted areas (Whittlesey, 1953Morgan, 1963Coldham, 1979). Today, policies promote individual land ownership, fixed grazing and sedentarization, and industrialized agriculture (Abbink et al., 2014Kirkbride and Grahn, 2008Lind et al., 2020). Overpopulation, overstocking, land degradation, disease outbreaks, mass die-offs of livestock and wildlife, and human-wildlife conflicts are escalating in pastoral lands. Moreover, ethnobotanical studies detail how Western influences in the Maasai region of Kenya have led to cultural shifts corresponding to changes in the local landscape and the profound loss of traditional knowledge of plant use (Bussmann et al., 2018). These post-colonial land use regimes create regional gene pools with limited genetic diversity prone to biodiversity collapse. To achieve sustainable biodiversity conservation, policymakers should consider the archaeological perspective presented here as a guide to assessing the positive outcomes of regenerative pastoralism in eastern Africa and elsewhere.

2.2 The historical legacy of Southeast Asia: Insights from Great Angkor and its contemporary relevance

Greater Angkor in Cambodia was the epicentre of the Khmer empire between the 9th and 14th centuries CE and became the largest recorded pre-industrial urban entity by area. Its political structure alternated between central organization and decentralized regional autonomy, conferring socio-political adaptability and transformation of the region into an elaborately designed landscape (Fletcher et al., 2008Klassen and Evans, 2020Carter et al., 2021). Archaeological and palaeobotanical studies reveal adaptive engineering strategies in response to environmental challenges. The society had an intricate water system to irrigate large-scale rice cultivation and manage water resources during seasonal monsoons, minimizing damage from floods and droughts (Fletcher et al., 2008Klassen and Evans, 2020). Ultimately, this interdependent hydraulic system of reservoirs and canals lost its resilience during extensive climatic extremes and Ayutthayan invasions in the 14th century, leading to a gradual population decline (Buckley et al., 2010Penny et al., 2019). Nevertheless, Greater Angkor prospered for over four centuries as a city larger than the main coeval European centers, demonstrating urban adaptations to tropical forest settings (Roberts et al., 2023). It is also highly relevant considering the 21st-century tendency towards low-density urbanism and the resilience of such urban forms to climate change (Fletcher et al., 2024).

Under traditional Khmer rural codes, agricultural land could be claimed, as long as cultivation did not interfere with individual and communal rights. Areas with “common” forest resources (e.g., fisheries, non-timber forest products) were co-managed by households (Olivier, 1954Diepart, 2015). An account by Chinese envoy, Zhou Daguan in 1297, corroborates the presence of extensive forests and cultivated cropland during the city’s habitation (Zhou, 2007). This socio-political organization allowed flexible adaptation to crises, enabling sustainable use of limited resources (Diepart, 2015). Over the last five centuries, however, the Angkor region has endured multiple occupations, making it a unique case study for understanding socio-political changes in land use from vast pre-industrial urbanism to varied colonial impositions. Under French administration (1863–1953), private land ownership and “modernization” of communal land property rights were introduced to stimulate rice production, secure land and allow urban investment (Diepart, 2015). This was a clear attempt to replace small-scale Indigenous forestry use with large-scale corporate exploitation (Thomas, 1999), denying Cambodians access to forests and directly affecting their livelihoods. Today, deforestation in Cambodia is linked to rapid economic growth and the agricultural expansion of maize, cassava and plantation cash crops like rubber (MAFF, 2015Hun et al., 2017Kong et al., 2019Grogan et al., 2019), reflecting trends across Southeast Asia (Hall, 2011).

Despite centuries of colonial influence, Cambodia’s history demonstrates the resilience of local populations. In the late 1970s and 1980s, a decentralized landscape management policy managed by local authorities in rural areas allowed rapid agricultural recovery in war-torn regions (Coe, 2003Diepart, 2015). This resembles the post-decline of Greater Angkor (13–16th centuries), where socio-political reorganization and continued land use occurred rather than an abrupt fall, with people free to pursue new strategies of elite control or small-scale farming and water management in different parts of the landscape (Fletcher et al., 2017). Angkor exemplifies how certain forms of centralized socio-political mismanagement in the face of climate change can affect all layers of society. Its intricate water management system became increasingly inefficient over time, and adaptability to crises was largely driven by political and spatial reorganization in smaller polities with more constrained control and management of resources. Nevertheless, a bottom-up solution was developed by the autonomous organization of local households, which also affected the centre of power (Lucero et al., 2015). This highlights the importance of local collaborative solutions in addressing Anthropocene challenges, which is especially valuable for countries in the Global South, where Indigenous Peoples continue to resist the pressures of wider power structures, such as the global capitalist demands for the resources present in their territories.

2.3 Adaptation to sea level change in Small Island Developing States

Small Island Developing States, spanning regions including the Caribbean, Pacific, Atlantic, Indian Ocean, and South China Sea, are among the most vulnerable to the compounding impacts of Climate Change (United Nations, 1993). The rate of sea level rise has escalated from 1.8 mm per year in the last century to 3 mm per year over the past decade, with projections indicating a potential increase to approximately 11 mm per year by the end of the 21st century (IPCC, 2007IPCC, 2013). Repercussions of these changes are severe, including the erosion of coastlines, significant biodiversity loss through phenomena such as coral bleaching and mangrove degradation, and the destruction of coastal industries, infrastructure, and cultural heritage (Fitzpatrick and Keegan, 2007Griggs and Reguero, 2021Stephenson and Jones, 2017).

Historically, communities in SIDS have developed a repertoire of adaptive strategies to cope with environmental changes. For instance, sediment core analyses have shown that during periods of significant sea level rise, island communities have adapted their agricultural and agroforestry practices to ensure food security and sustain livelihoods (Fitzpatrick and Keegan, 2007). In the Caribbean, as sea levels fluctuated during the Holocene, communities constructed dwellings that could be easily rebuilt after extreme weather events, utilizing elevated structures or relocatable materials to mitigate the impact of flooding and storm surges (Hofman et al., 2021). These pre-colonial adaptation strategies highlight the resilience of SIDS communities in the face of climate variability, rooted in deep ecological knowledge and sustainable resource management.

Colonial policies often disrupted these established adaptive systems by imposing new economic structures and land use practices that prioritized extraction and export over local sustainability. The shift from communal to privatized land, coupled with the introduction of non-native agricultural systems (i.e., plantations), significantly altered the landscape and reduced the adaptive capacity of Indigenous populations (Saunders, 2005). From the 16th century onward, the introduction of cash crops–such as sugar–and commercial logging, along with the displacement of Indigenous communities to marginal lands and the outright genocide of Indigenous islanders in the Caribbean and elsewhere, disrupted the traditional systems that were suitable for coping with extreme events and famines (Dunning et al., 2018Douglass and Cooper, 2020). However, traditional knowledge systems continue to play a role in environmental adaptations. In Fiji, for example, the use of specific plant species in construction has provided resilience against frequent cyclones, demonstrating an intimate understanding of local materials and their resistive properties against natural disasters (Orlove et al., 2022). In line with this, the Kunming-Montreal Biodiversity Framework has acknowledged the importance of protecting these critically threatened coastal areas through collective action, particularly through the participation of Indigenous Peoples and the implementation of sustainable community-based approaches.

3 Outcomes of COP 28 for Indigenous Peoples and recommendations from the ECHOES project

The aforementioned case studies demonstrate that diverse social organizations and technological advancements can coexist, indicating societies can choose varied socioeconomic paths rather than following a predetermined trajectory. Understanding past societies’ diversity and adaptability is vital for addressing contemporary environmental challenges, underscoring the need for multiple development pathways in climate policy instead of a one-size-fits-all solution. COP28 stressed accelerating climate action to meet 2030 objectives, as shown by the first Global Stocktake and Carbon Emission Reports (UNFCCC, 2022). A major focus was establishing a finance scheme to expedite this transition, addressing disparities between developed nations and LDCs, and integrating diverse knowledge systems within the UNFCCC process. The implementation of the Loss and Damage fund was another pivotal agreement. However, only 3% of this funding currently reaches Indigenous climate change initiatives, as recognized during COP28. Concerns about the insufficient reach of these funds led to the launch of the Podong Initiative, co-led by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) and IIFB Indigenous Peoples Organisations (IPO) members. This initiative aims to mobilize up to $200 million from 2023 to 2030 in biodiversity and climate finance, with at least 85% of these funds designated to directly reach Indigenous territories and local communities.

Despite the potential benefits, challenges remain regarding bureaucratic hurdles, equitable asset distribution and ensuring the free and informed consent of the communities (ILO 169), which could affect the long-term project sustainability. This underscores the need to bridge gaps between scientific and traditional knowledge in policy-making. Our initiative aims to integrate perspectives by creating an assessment report for the UNFCCC and relevant policymakers at the national (i.e., local governments and organizations) and international levels (i.e., IWIGIA7 and IICB8 that advocate linking Indigenous knowledge and global environmental policy). By highlighting our case studies, which showcase important landesque capital in addressing land management and biodiversity loss through regenerative pastoralism in Eastern Africa, water management techniques in pre-industrial Cambodia, and relocation and adaptation practices in the SIDS, we provide evidence that supports cost-effective adaptation and mitigation solutions, while offering a long-term perspective on Indigenous/pre-colonial adaptations prior to recent historical disruptions. We advocate for a pluralistic knowledge approach (Orlove et al., 2022), blending scientific language with artistic and other narrative forms to foster more effective, dialogic communication for broader audiences. Echoing Haraway (2016), we argue that changing the narrative is a potent tool for contesting futures where development excludes rather than includes, ensuring a more comprehensive approach to biodiversity loss compensation and climate justice.

Data availability statement

The original contributions presented in the study are included in the article/supplementary material, further inquiries can be directed to the corresponding author.

Author contributions

VZ: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing. MZ: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing. VC-A: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing. VI: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing. RL: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing. FS: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing. RR: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing. DH: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing. SM: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing. GJ: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing. MA: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing. DJ: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing. RW: Conceptualization, Writing–review and editing. PR: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing. LF: Conceptualization, Writing–original draft, Writing–review and editing.

Consortium/group statement

ECHOES: Exploring Climate and Human Observations from the Global South is a working group composed of the following members; Laura Furquim, Mariya Antonosyan, Deepak K. Jha, Patrick Roberts, Veronica Zucarelli Freire, Danielle Viegas, Freg Stokes, Victor Iminjili, Gopesh Jha, Michael Ziegler, Rachel Rudd, Victor Andrade, Yoshi Maezumi, and Rebecca Lellau

Funding

The author(s) declare financial support was received for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article. We thank the Max Planck Society for providing funding and support.

Acknowledgments

We thank the Max Planck Society for funding and support. We also want to extend our acknowledgements to Hans-Georg Sell for their contributions to manuscript graphics.

Conflict of interest

The authors declare that the research was conducted in the absence of any commercial or financial relationships that could be construed as a potential conflict of interest.

Publisher’s note

All claims expressed in this article are solely those of the authors and do not necessarily represent those of their affiliated organizations, or those of the publisher, the editors and the reviewers. Any product that may be evaluated in this article, or claim that may be made by its manufacturer, is not guaranteed or endorsed by the publisher.

Abbreviations

COP, Conferences of the Parties; UNFCCC, United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change; CIEL, Center for International Environmental Law; IIPFCC, Indigenous Peoples Forum on Climate Change; IPCC, Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change; SIDS, Small Island Developing States; LDCs, Least Developed Countries; UN, United Nations; LCIPP, Local Communities and Indigenous Peoples Platform; IUCN, International Union for Conservation of Nature; IIFB, International Indigenous Forum on Biodiversity; IPO, Indigenous Peoples Organisations.

Footnotes

1The concept of the Anthropocene has been criticized by some authors as ‘Eurocentric, Anthropocentric and bourgeois’(Estenssoro, 2021), as it mirrors how Western culture has largely shaped a unilateral knowledge system. In a critique of the Anthropocene as a concept (Moore, 2017), argues that the current climatic catastrophe has been generated by the modern capitalist system over the last five centuries, resulting in a ‘Capitalocene’ epoch, with responsibility for this crisis falling on specific historical actors rather than humanity as a whole.

2Concerns on how general policymaking often overlooks the intricacies of how regional populations equitably benefit from assigning value to deforestation and carbon emissions are outlined in wider UN frameworks like REDD+ (i.e., Pohl Schnake and Coppiarolo, 2019).

3The temporal range in question varies depending on the case study and the geographical location. For sea level rise it could be ca.10,000 years, whereas for the other cases, pivotal historical turnpoints such as European colonization are also crucial to understand current dynamics and challenges in the face of climate change impacts. We propose to adapt the time-range according to the topic affected by policy-making.

4Established at COP27, a Just Transition Scheme is meant to assess, design and scale up pathways to achieve the goals of the Paris Agreement in a way that is just and equitable for all, taking into account human rights (UNFCCC, 2022; 1/CP.27, Sharm el-Sheikh Implementation Plan).

5Its objective is to assist all Parties, especially developing countries, including the LDCs and SIDS to improve their understanding and assessment of impacts, vulnerability and adaptation to climate change.

6White Highlands refers to confiscated land in the Rift Valley highlands and Mount Kenya set aside for exclusive European settlement, while Native Reserves were designated as marginal land set aside for Indigenous settlement.

7International Work Group for Indigenous Affairs

8International Indigenous Forum on Biodiversity

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Keywords: Anthropocene, Global South, traditional knowledge, climate change, COP agenda

Citation: ECHOES, Zuccarelli Freire V, Ziegler MJ, Caetano-Andrade V, Iminjili V, Lellau R, Stokes F, Rudd RC, Heberle Viegas D, Maezumi SY, Jha G, Antonosyan M, Jha DK, Winkelmann R, Roberts P and Furquim L (2024) Addressing the Anthropocene from the Global South: integrating paleoecology, archaeology and traditional knowledge for COP engagement. Front. Earth Sci. 12:1470577. doi: 10.3389/feart.2024.1470577

Received: 25 July 2024; Accepted: 18 September 2024;
Published: 29 October 2024.

Edited by:Martin Siegert, University of Exeter, United Kingdom

Reviewed by:Paul Lane, University of Cambridge, United Kingdom

Copyright © 2024 ECHOES, Zuccarelli Freire, Ziegler, Caetano-Andrade, Iminjili, Lellau, Stokes, Rudd, Heberle Viegas, Maezumi, Jha, Antonosyan, Jha, Winkelmann, Roberts, Furquim. This is an open-access article distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution License (CC BY). The use, distribution or reproduction in other forums is permitted, provided the original author(s) and the copyright owner(s) are credited and that the original publication in this journal is cited, in accordance with accepted academic practice. No use, distribution or reproduction is permitted which does not comply with these terms.

*Correspondence: Verónica Zuccarelli Freire, zuccarelli@gea.mpg.decop30@gea.mpg.de

These authors share first authorship

Disclaimer: All claims expressed in this article are solely those of the authors and do not necessarily represent those of their affiliated organizations, or those of the publisher, the editors and the reviewers. Any product that may be evaluated in this article or claim that may be made by its manufacturer is not guaranteed or endorsed by the publisher.

Agency in the Anthropocene: education for planetary health

Peta J White PhD a, Nicole M Ardoin PhD b, Chris Eames PhD c, Martha C Monroe PhD d

https://doi.org/10.1016/S2542-5196(23)00271-1

Under a Creative Commons license

Summary

Collective action is essential to address planetary health as current and future environmental challenges are socioecological and require coordinated, informed, and sustained action from all societal sectors. Education that engages intergenerational communities is a crucial means of building collective action as it provides opportunities to develop an informed citizenry capable of making the necessary decisions to work towards planetary health. Schools are valuable sites of community learning and action, and will benefit from a new orientation towards and commitment to educator training, curriculum development, and youth agency. This orientation is supported by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development’s Programme for International Student Assessment’s (PISA) 2025 Science Framework, which measures the competence (skills and knowledge) of 15-year-old students. This Personal View describes a new concept, Agency in the Anthropocene, a contributing element of the 2025 Science Framework that defines the way science education could develop agency and hope in this era of socioecological challenges that are impacting planetary health.

Introduction

Human-caused environmental degradation is having impacts on human health and wellbeing.12 Without meaningful, collective action to address current and ongoing socioecological challenges, such as climate change, biodiversity loss, water scarcity, and pollution, the Earth’s systems will continue to be greatly impacted and the quality of human life will most probably diminish.3 Moreover, although such changes affect all people worldwide, historically marginalised populations are often the first and most affected by environmental degradation4 and associated social justice issues.

Health researchers have documented numerous ways in which the degradation of the environment impact human physical and mental health. Poor indoor and outdoor air quality, for example, are linked with asthma and other respiratory illnesses,56 and toxic levels of particulate plastics are being found in people (eg, lung tissue and blood), as well as in numerous other species.78 Climatic changes have led to starvation and human migration as well as increasingly frequent and severe wildfires, mudslides, and storms, which damage ecosystems and human-made structures and have a range of other cascading impacts.9 The commercial development of natural areas and the climate-induced redistribution of biodiversity leads to increases in the transmission of zoonotic diseases.1011 Concern about, and impacts of, climate change and related environmental issues relate to rising levels of ecoanxiety, depression, and other mental health challenges.121314

Concurrently, researchers have been exploring how a healthy environment supports and enhances human health and wellbeing. Biodiversity provides many human health benefits, most notably serving as a source of medicines and food.15 Spending time in nature-rich areas has resulted in documented improvements in various mental and physical health outcomes (eg, improved attention span, decreased stress, lower BMI),16 such that health-care providers have begun to write prescriptions urging patients to spend time outdoors.17 As health researchers continue to provide evidence of the connections between the biophysical environment and human health, scientists are cataloguing the health of the planet, showing how human actions are disrupting ecological integrity. For example, regular reports on environmental issues, such as climate change and biodiversity loss,118 provide increasing evidence of the scope and scale of human impacts on Earth systems.

The intricate and systemic interdependence of human health and the health of the planet are central to the concept of planetary health,19 and refer to a suite of socioecological challenges. A degraded environment harms human health, whereas an optimal environment supports human health. Similarly, human actions impact the environment, and those impacts can be both negative and positive for humans and the environment. The relationship between humans and the environment is complex with inextricable linkages. The fact that human actions to work towards planetary health are challenging is therefore concerning, although perhaps not surprising. The factors behind failed action or inaction are complex and varied,2021 and focusing on the extent of the socioecological crisis can result in mental health impacts for some people. Nowhere is this more evident than the anxiety exhibited by people working to address these multifaceted challenges.2223

To motivate and support informed and engaged action and to work to overcome crisis paralysis that some individuals are experiencing, we propose that education (formal, informal, and non-formal) is crucial to build hope, knowledge, and skills. Climate change education can result in systemic change that develops agency and competencies not only among young people, but in adults as well.24 In this Personal View, we introduce the concept of Agency in the Anthropocene,25 which emphasises the development of competencies that underpin agency (individual and collective). We also share examples of how some educational programmes are working to address the entanglement of human and planetary health.

The role of education

Education has long been seen as a solution to environmental problems, originally because it was believed that increasing awareness and knowledge about the value of resource conservation influences the transformation of attitudes and behaviour towards the natural world.26 Therefore, strategies, such as education, communication, and public engagement, are regularly included in international agreements—eg, the Convention on Biological Diversity and the Convention on Wetlands. Although many such agreements emphasise the importance of public awareness more broadly, they also describe the education of young people through school programmes as essential mechanisms to build a current and future constituency for the environment.27 Although increasing awareness and knowledge are still essential, we now know that building skills and providing opportunities to increase efficacy are also crucial goals of educational programmes.

At a minimum, the goals of education are to provide awareness and information and, in some nations, to increase skills and support youth development and efficacy in working towards change.2829 An emphasis on critical thinking and problem solving is even more important when recognising that the challenges that will be most essential to resolve in 10–20 years might not be recognised or even known today. Internationally, curricula are designed to prepare youth to learn and act, build proficiency in questioning, communicate, synthesise information, and assess various options.28 In the last decade, researchers have encouraged educators to teach students how to critique sources of information to enable students to make informed decisions in a world of social media-promulgated misinformation and disinformation.30

In many nations, the natural and social sciences, as well as the humanities, have successfully focused on educating young people about environmental issues and strategies for sustainability.31 The artificial disciplinary boundaries maintained in some school contexts, however, have been found to inhibit learning and engagement in interconnecting systemic challenges,32 particularly when addressing interdisciplinary and transdisciplinary issues, such as those impacting human and planetary health. Yet, many young people report that their desire to learn about climate change and the environment more broadly comes from an interdisciplinary perspective—for example, interest in social justice, rather than in science or geography, is more likely to bring students to environmentally related coursework and career paths.33 Evidence also suggests that impacts from socioecological challenges are encouraging young people to find ways to educate themselves, as evidenced by escalating participation in the School Strikes 4 Climate, which take a social justice perspective with the desire to influence public policy.34 Youth are finding their voices, organising large events, managing media, gaining activist-related skills and efficacy, and influencing decision makers.35

Educational reform

The importance of youth voice in addressing socioecological challenges has implications for both education and the environment. Globally, public education is designed and intended to mirror society’s vision for the future by providing opportunities for young people to gain knowledge and skills to engage in the world. The development of curricula is a political process and, therefore, tends to be driven by those with power.36 National movements and global awareness result in various educational priorities, from creating an efficient workforce capable of engaging in productive work, to building problem-solving skills that enable young people to address future not-yet-defined challenges. As the impacts of challenges, such as climate change and biodiversity loss, become more apparent, we must question whether our current educational systems are adequately designed to prepare young people to recognise and address the socioecological challenges related to how we generate energy, produce food, process waste, and design our communities, among myriad other decisions. Beyond knowing about these processes, young people should learn about the ways in which people are working to bring about change and gain the skills to work together to shape the future.25

In addition, to ensure science education is fit for the future, it is undergoing a reform,37 which could initiate transformation in many contexts. Since 2000, the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) has worked to support nations as they endeavour to strengthen their educational policy and programmes. By creating an internationally appropriate assessment of 15-year-olds, the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) enables nations to track progress in reading, mathematics, and science competencies and compare their students’ abilities with those of other nations. The 2018 PISA assessment suggested, unfortunately, that environmental knowledge, attitudes, and actions are not equally strong among individuals aged 15 years worldwide.38 Students who scored highly on an environmental sense of purpose were more likely to take at least one environmentally related action, such as reducing energy at home or participating in activities that favour environmental protection, after accounting for socioeconomic status and gender. However, many more students (80%) care about the environment to some degree, but report being unlikely to act. A combination of environmental awareness, self-efficacy, sense-of-purpose, and parental support appears to increase the probability of a young person taking action. These findings led the OECD to support development of a new set of competencies for school education. To prepare young people to navigate and work to improve the world, they need a set of competencies that enable them to understand the challenges, weigh and critique potential solutions, recognise intersecting systems linked to solutions, and work towards enacting just and equitable solutions in their communities and nations.

Agency in the Anthropocene

Recognising the intersectional nature of human lifestyles and planetary health has led scientists to describe our current epoch as the Anthropocene, or the age of humans, in which human actions are fundamentally altering Earth’s systems.3940 Changes to these human–planetary relationships are needed and require agency, or the ability of a person to “positively influence their own lives and the world around them” and have “the capacity to set a goal, reflect, and act responsibly to effect change”.41 We propose a working definition of Agency in the Anthropocene to guide this challenge for young people: those with Agency in the Anthropocene work individually and collectively with hope and efficacy to understand diverse perspectives on socioecological systems and act to create a more just and resilient future.25

Using this definition, our work contributed to the PISA Science Framework 2025 by identifying a set of competencies that young people need in order to gain Agency in the Anthropocene (panel). We consider these to be enduring competencies,42 which support knowledge, skills, values, and attitudes that lead to action and lifelong learning. Next, we discuss each of the competencies.

Panel

Competencies for Agency in the Anthropocene25

A 15-year-old student who shows Agency in the Anthropocene can:

  • 1.Explain the effects of human interactions with Earth’s systems
  • 2. Make informed decisions to act on the basis of evaluation of diverse sources of evidence and application of creative and systems thinking to regenerate and sustain the environment
  • 3. Show hope and respect for diverse perspectives in seeking solutions to socioecological crises

Agency in the Anthropocene requires understanding to inform action. This concept is best understood in terms of Earth systems, which include and refer to “the structure and functioning of the Earth as a complex, adaptive system”,43 and is typically taught in science classes. The basic earth systems (eg, water and nutrient cycles, and soil formation and erosion) are typically taught in science classes, in which natural and biophysical topics are addressed, but do not always include how these systems impact and are impacted by humans. Human health and wellbeing, and that of all species, depend on systems that recognise and use diverse knowledges in transdisciplinary ways. This focus expands the traditional science curriculum and enables recognition of the interdependence of social and ecological systems and how those systems change over time. Having agency means acknowledging that technologically mediated human interactions with Earth systems have had positive outcomes in terms of human nutrition, health, and longevity, but also have had increasingly negative influences, due to the exploitation of Earth’s resources beyond capacity and renewability,4445 and in the production of wastes. These outcomes are underpinned by social, cultural, and economic factors influenced by values and social norms developed through experiences with Earth systems.46

Agency in the Anthropocene requires an ecocentric worldview that positions humans within the environment, not separate from it,47 as well as relational practices that emphasise belonging to place and people.48 This ecocentric worldview develops an ethic of care that leads to expanding concentric circles of concern and action for the health and wellbeing of oneself, one’s family, one’s friends, one’s community, all species, and the planet. An ecocentric worldview situates this care in relation to Earth systems and creates a multidimensional sense of being in the world, spanning the intrapersonal to interpersonal to ecospheric.49 Such a multidimensional perspective guides how one thinks and acts in relation to the world (intrapersonal); in relation to others, both human (through social justice) and non-human (through ecological justice); and in relation to the systems of which one is a part. This relational positionality addresses what it means to be human in the Anthropocene and moves thinking, caring, and acting beyond the individual to communities, local environments, and the Earth more broadly.

Agency in the Anthropocene requires drawing on diverse ways of knowing50 to critically evaluate information, misinformation, and disinformation,51 and to decide which actions can be taken in response to socioecological challenges. Critical evaluation of information sources can mean taking an objective approach by considering whether (and to what extent) source information concurs with the consensus of empirical knowledge, is based on peer review, or both. This critical evaluation can also take a subjective approach, which interprets perspectives on the basis of values and experiences. These socioecological challenges are multifaceted and, although individuals or small groups might tackle parts of the problem, diverse teams of young people who bring different competencies and perspectives are more likely to lead to creative and innovative solutions that will regenerate healthy social and ecological systems.

Agency in the Anthropocene means understanding that social structures have led to positive (eg, medical advances) and negative (eg, colonisation and resource exploitation) outcomes for human and planetary health,52 and that these outcomes have not been distributed equally among all people. Our current challenges entangle social and ecological dimensions and addressing them demands application of the principles of justice, such as fairness and equity. These principles are values based and culturally bound, often reflecting who holds power. The magnitude of the many socioecological challenges we currently face can be overwhelming for all, especially young people.3453 For some, the emotional load might lead to ecoanxiety, which might compound to climate anxiety at times and under specific circumstances.13 Hope for the future is often strongly linked to a sense of agency as well as the intention and ability to take action to address socioecological challenges.54 Taking action in the Anthropocene requires efficacy, which refers to a belief in being able to make a difference, personally and collectively.55 Efficacy is key because concern alone, although important, is not sufficient to motivate action. Achieving effective action on socioecological challenges relies on knowledge of causes of the crises and knowledge and skill in the potential steps towards resolution, and confidence and motivation to act for both human and planetary health.

Although environmental knowledge and ecocentric attitudes tend to correlate with each other,38 knowledge about the environment rarely predicts environmentally protective actions5657 because various motives and opportunities typically combine to nudge people towards behaviour changes.5859 Some variables, such as ecocentric beliefs, available time, relevant experience, and peer group and family support, might predispose learners to engage in pro-environmental activities;60 in other situations, environmental actions might be driven by community norms.61 Environmental knowledge is important as well intended actions could do more harm than good if people have insufficient understanding of the consequences of their actions. Supporting young people in developing agency requires much more than knowledge about environmental issues. The process of investigating issues and taking action has a long history in environmental education62 and, more recently, has evolved to include an emphasis on how to nurture action competence in schools.6364

School-based science education can therefore be an important way to help prepare youth to engage in socioecological actions by strengthening knowledge, awareness, and problem-solving skills.65 Some youth programmes form a connection with the community, which might eventually foster a new community norm, such as reducing the risk of wildfire66 or addressing climate change.24 Despite their success, such programmes are not widely implemented around the world. Educational reform might be stimulated by the PISA 2025 Assessment, which has the potential to nudge nations to implement programmes that engage youth in problem solving, shaping generations with willingness and preparedness to address pressing socioecological challenges.25

Agency in the Anthropocene in action: engaging young people in learning about socioecological challenges

Effective programmes that generate Agency in the Anthropocene rely on interdisciplinary content and support an action orientation that encourages youth leadership, peer interaction, and community involvement.67 The following three examples highlight these strategies in practice.

The first example illustrates learning about Earth systems and climate impacts (competency 1) through a bushfire risk-reduction whole-school, student-led project. Harkaway Primary School, a school located in a high fire-danger area in Victoria, Australia, implemented a student-led programme to develop student and community agency regarding risk management, specifically around bushfire preparation.68 In the wake of the devastating 2009 Black Saturday fires, leaders needed to build trust and confidence among their local community. School leaders collaborated with students to engage with local professionals and researchers to explore the situation and develop strategies to adapt to bushfire prevention and risk-reduction management strategies for the school and community. The students led investigations into bushfire zones, democratic processes, bushfire risk registers and risk reduction practices,69 mental trauma and anxiety, and community preparedness.70 Through this 4-year process, students learned to trust their instincts, create learning collaborations, and develop the agency required to make impactful community change. As a result, students produced the Bushfire Safety Manifesto.71

The second example illustrates engaging youth with evidence-based diverse knowledges to inform their development of action competence (competencies 2 and 3). The Enviroschools Programme operates in a third of all schools across Aotearoa New Zealand. Enviroschools aims to empower youth through engaging with Māori indigenous perspectives and knowledge to nurture sustainable social and ecological communities.72 From 2005 to 2009, for example, at Hukanui School (Hamilton), a student-centred, action-oriented project stemming from a student-identified need for a place to learn about the environment led to the codesign and construction of the so-called Living Room. The Living Room is an eco-classroom that embodies green building principles, indigenous ideas, and lifelong learning ideals.73 All students in the school spend time in the Living Room, learning about energy and water conservation and conducting ongoing projects of their own interest.

The third example illustrates facilitating youth civic engagement to gain experience in community decision making (competency 3). Various programmes around the world encourage youth to explore community issues; many such programmes guide youth to consider the consequences of various actions and work towards a goal of their choosing. The US-based non-profit organisation Earth Force blends civic education with exploration of local environmental issues. Earth Force’s model encourages students to learn about local organisations and decision makers who address an issue of interest and culminates by asking a decision maker to make a change. By focusing on decision makers rather than the environment itself, the youth learn who the decision makers are, how decisions are made, who influences decisions, and how the public can become engaged in community decisions. Such an approach builds civic literacy and enables youth to become active participants in civic discourse. After-school youth clubs also use the model in a programme called Community Action Projects for the Environment (CAPE), which partners with organisations and community leaders. In 2023, CAPE groups in Florida, for example, worked with decision makers to enhance pollinator habitat, protect urban trees, and install bridge railings on cycling paths.

Conclusion

Education is essential for creating informed, caring, and capable leaders, activists, and citizens who collaborate to protect and enhance socioecological integrity leading to improvements in planetary health at a time of substantial socioecological crises. International efforts, such as the OECD’s PISA initiative, among others, have begun to support nations in achieving this goal by considering the kinds of educational reform needed worldwide. Such conversations are guided by a vision that recognises the importance of working towards just, equitable, and collective environmental action to address pressing socioecological challenges through science education. This kind of transformative change requires a global population with the competencies and motivation to support communities in their identification of challenges, development of alternative strategies to address them, and taking positive, solutions-oriented actions.21

Focusing on developing Agency in the Anthropocene highlights the need for education systems to reconsider curriculum design, community resources, teacher professional learning, and student programming, among other key dimensions of systems change. Discussing and learning about the socioecological challenges that will increasingly impact current and future generations is unsettling and complex. Although educational systems are often encouraged to deliver programming that addresses various societal challenges, those we are experiencing in the Anthropocene are more widespread and laden with uncertainty than in the past, thus requiring a new vision for transformative education and engagement, while concurrently managing potential ecoanxiety. Our call for the development of Agency in the Anthropocene and the assessment of the competencies of 15-year-olds in the 2025 PISA will contribute to understanding how well we are progressing towards this vision. The examples that we have shared offer strategies that enable educators and educational systems to manage the breadth and depth of complex learning, build agency, and take action within a community context, while showing that such transformation is possible.

Contributors

All authors contributed equally to the conceptual development, writing, and editing of this Personal View.

For more on the Convention on Biological Diversity see https://www.cbd.int/

For more on the Convention on Wetlands see https://www.ramsar.org/

For more on the Programme for International Student Assessment see https://www.oecd.org/pisa/

For more on Harkaway Primary School’s Bushfire Safety Committee see https://www.harkawayps.vic.edu.au/bushfire-safety-committee

For more on The Enviroschools Programme see www.enviroschools.org.nz

For more on programmes on community issues see https://terezanet.cz/en and www.ecoschools.global

For more on Community Action Projects for the Environment see https://cape.ifas.ufl.edu

For more on Earth Force see https://earthforce.org

For more on the School Strikes 4 Climate see https://www.ukycc.com/youth-strike-4-climate and https://www.schoolstrike4climate.com/

Declaration of interests

We declare no competing interests.

Acknowledgments

The authors thank the OECD 2025 PISA Science Expert group as well as colleagues and educators from Harkaway Primary School, Hukanui School, and Community Action Projects for the Environment.

References

‘Dwelling in the Climate Emergency’

Michael Degani

‘Ecologies’

In this brief essay, I want to sketch how developments in architecture and design are exploring what it is to dwell in the climate emergency. Dwelling is a term derived from Martin Heidegger (1971) and thus has inevitably kitschy overtones, though a range of thinkers have worked to peel off his dangerous nostalgia for farmhouses and old stone bridges and retrieve the existential insight at its core (Malpas 2021; Harries 1998). Ultimately to dwell is to be responsive to the place and situation we find ourselves caught up in, in all its limits and possibilities. Or as Karsten Harries (1998: 209) puts it, sometimes “we dream of huts, sometimes of palaces, sometimes of intimate shelters that shut out the outside, sometimes of tents open to the forest and its animals.” In this way architecture is fundamentally ethical. It strives to capture what it is to be responsive to a given stretch of earth and sky, at a given point in history.

In the climate emergency, these strivings lead us away from finished forms and towards the ‘hidden abode of production’—of process and material. The built environment comprises nearly 42% of all global emissions (Architecture 2030). While roughly 27% of this figure comes from buildings’ energy consumption, their embodied carbon—that is, the 15% of emissions involved extraction, processing, transportation, and construction—is substantial.  A “quadrivium” (Jarzombek 2019) of steel, glass, concrete, and plastic burns copious amounts of fossil fuel across byzantine global supply chains. Building in this “oil vernacular” (Material Cultures 2022: 74) drives global heating as well as the myriad geosocial sacrifice zones of the Anthropocene—open pit mines, endless wasteyards, and cancer alleys. The architectural image of our time, Daniel Barber (2023) suggests, is “the sealed curtain wall tower in an overheated city with a struggling electric grid, in a context where heatwaves are managed exclusively by air-conditioning.” A tomb with a view. At end of life, its materials defy reuse or recycling, elaborately glued and preserved in a petrochemical baroque.

A growing number of architects and engineers have begun to wrestle with their status as a critical relay in this extractive economy. Through associations like the Carbon Leadership Forum, Architecture 2030, and Architects Climate Action Network (ACAN), to name just a few, they are attempting to rethink what it will mean to dwell in an era of climate change, and after the oil vernacular. As one engineer declared, “it’s absolutely outrageous that an architect goes out and buys locally grown tomatoes at the supermarket, gets on their bike to work and thinks they are an environmentally conscious person while designing a concrete or steel-frame building. Architects and engineers are the ones making decisions, so why don’t they engage with this?” (Hurst 2019). 

Weightless Ecological Modernism

To understand why, until recently, they haven’t, it is worth sketching out a bit of history. Operational emissions—the emissions required to light, heat or cool a building—have been improving since the 1970s. These technical advances were spurred by oil shocks and fears of energy dependence, as well as a growing environmental consciousness. But they were also rooted in military-industrial research around the “cabin ecology” of spaceflight, with its cybernetic regulation of inputs and outputs, exemplified in the geodesic domes of Buckminster Fuller’s “spaceship earth” (Anker 2010). Today spaceships proliferate—from the “spaceship in the desert” that is the UAE’s Masdar City (Günel 2019) to the various escape pods of the tech billionaire class. It is no coincidence that Elon Musk is a champion of both Mars colonization and electrical vehicles. Both are quintessential examples of a kind of weightless ecological modernism.

By the 2000s, there was a renewed recognition that our great many spaceships depend on externalizing the socioecological costs of their production (Brand and Wissen 2021). A version of this discussion played out amongst architects and engineers too (Architecture 2030). As efficiency rises, the embodied emissions of materials take up an increasing share of a building’s overall carbon footprint, and they are more damaging because of where they occur in time. Operational emissions may be larger in aggregate, but they are also spread out over the life of the building. Insofar as we must reduce atmospheric carbon now, in the next ten years, this initial burp of “upfront” construction emissions can no longer be politely ignored. New builds may be energy efficient, and, so the theory goes, that efficiency might pay off its upfront carbon investment after seventy years. The reality is that we are greenlighting, in the thick of a climate crisis, so many concrete boxes with high-emission petrochemical foam insulation that will be demolished in thirty.

For anthropologists, it would not be hard to render this problem in Bourdieuan or even Heideggerian terms. In effect, a new build may talk a good ‘sustainability’ game, but its body—the very materials of its construction—betrays a carbon-dense mode of dwelling in the world. Like our own unreflective habits, embodied carbon is in some sense the ‘deepest’ part of the building. And in a context of the climate crisis, it might even be said to be the ‘truth’ of a building. Crises are often tests where we are forced to see what we are ‘really made of,’ or in this case what buildings are really made of.

The Soil Vernacular

There was always another tradition of 1970s-era environmental thought running alongside that of spaceship earth. It included EF Schumacher, Ivan Illich, and second-order cyberneticists like Gregory Bateson. Anthony Galluzzo (2023) has given them the inspired name “Critical Aquarians.” The design wing of this tradition embraced what we might call a “soil vernacular,” emphasizing local, climatically appropriate materials (adobe, straw, cob, and hemp) and low-tech construction methods that sought to embody the principles of community and sufficiency (Narath 2024; Harkness 2011). Today, an increasing number of architects, designers, and companies are turning to this tradition, both as a critique of the oil vernacular, and as a way to repair some of its climate harms.

On a windy spring day this year, I gathered with about thirty builders, botanists, students, retired school teachers, and entrepreneurs to tour the “Flat House” of Margent Farms. Just north of Cambridge, designed by Paloma Gormley of the London firm Practice Architecture, the three bedroom house is essentially built from hemp grown right on the property. The structure is comprised of prefabricated frames of UK sourced timber infilled with shiv (the inner woody pulp of the hemp plant) mixed with lime. It is clad in shingled panels of hemp’s fibrous exterior mixed with sugar resin from agricultural waste and thermally pressed. The result is a frankly stunning sensorial calm, regulating humidity, temperature, and air quality without any mechanical ductwork. This “truth to materials” model joins earth and world in a way that might speak to Heidegger’s poetic sensibilities. Looking out over the windswept farmland, the owner remarked to us that using the shiv for the infill and its exterior fibers for the cladding was “kind of like putting the plant back together.” 

At the same time, the structure is a machine for fighting climate change. Growing thick and tall on Margent’s field, the hemp crop sucked carbon out of the air. Packed and pressed, that carbon is now safely sequestered in the dwelling.1  At the end of life, it will be available to be mulched and placed back in the hemp fields as fertilizer. Its model of “farm to building” thus seeks to realize a regenerative architecture that, at scale, can act as a net carbon drawdown. In short, where the oil vernacular turns on the radical externalization of its environment, the soil vernacular sutures. 

Supply Threads

Tenuous and delicate, these regenerative threads are always at risk of getting severed by the political-economy of extraction. One example is the increasing popularity of mass timber amongst developers, which slots into existing construction techniques and can create beautiful, chalet-like skyscrapers. And yet like biofuels, carbon reporting on mass timber often does not account for the emissions associated with land degradation (King and Magwood 2022: 71). Moreover, even if there is net carbon drawdown, there may also be deleterious effects on biodiversity—razing old growth for plantations is to literally miss the forest for the trees. A true “decolonization of buildings” begins with soil health (Reversing Climate Change 2021). And it must be buttressed by a holistic approach to ecological accounting, which is vulnerable to everything from carbon reductionism to outright manipulation. 

In this spirit, supply chains (or perhaps ‘threads’) are key to making ‘natural building’ more than a series of bourgeois vanities or hippie homesteads. Material Cultures, the research arm of Practice Architecture, has worked with stakeholders in Yorkshire to model a “circular biobased construction” economy with detailed analyses of carrying capacity (Islam et al. 2021). Others have proposed to manufacture housing material from agricultural waste streams such as pith, stalk, or coconut husks, as Mae-Ling Lokko has explored in Ghana (Lokko and Eglash 2017). Since 2016, the Lower Sioux Indian Community has operated a hempcrete farm and manufacture facility on its land to provide housing for its own tribal members, part of their “commitment to sovereignty and self-determination” (Nelson 2024). Getting the materials right involves breaking the hegemony of global supply chains, and the voluntaristic model of individualized pledges to ‘do better’ they enforce.

This challenge is sharpest in the question of retrofits. It is widely recognized that ‘the greenest building is the one that already exists.’ One logical conclusion, however, is a moratorium on new construction, an idea recently proposed and publicly debated by ACAN (2023), and challenging to an industry whose raison d’etre is to build. I have come to think of this as architecture’s ‘writing culture’ moment. In truth, the term covers subtle proposals for democratic control over what gets built and for whom, and for a more collaborative culture that blurs the boundary between architect, engineer, and public. Rather than tectonic Randian heroes who will their vision into being, at least some architects are reconceiving themselves as “spatial therapists” (Minkjan 2019), “caretakers or repairmen” (Alter 2022) or even “ancestors” (Architects Declare 2024).

Taken together, these shifts in construction and materials sketch out a particular vision of what it will be to dwell this century. It competes with any number of others: from fully automated luxury communism, to green growth, to climate fascism. Each visiondreams of what it should build, whether underground titanium bunkers, glass domed islands, or timber skyscrapers. Critical Aquarianism too has its own architectural cosmograms—a ‘hempen homespun’ is one such. But so are existing buildings in the oil vernacular, perhaps just lined with pith, bathed in clay paint, and clad in biogenic fiber. They might take our weightless ecological modernism and help bring it back down to earth.

Endnotes

  1. Concrete manufactures like to point out that such materials will eventually emit at the end of life if they are burned or left to rot in the landfill. Yet this misses, as discussed above, the important time value of using such materials; emissions avoided now are worth more than those avoided later. Moreover, given the decay rate of atmospheric carbon, temporarily stored carbon, past a certain point, is a net drawdown (King and Magwood 2022: 48-50). 

Michael Degani is Assistant Professor of Environmental Anthropology in the Department of Social Anthropology at the University of Cambridge, and Juliet Campbell Fellow in Social Anthropology at Girton College, researching energy, infrastructure, and design in Africa and beyond. He is the author of The City Electric: Infrastructure and Ingenuity in Postsocialist Tanzania (Duke University Press 2022), an ethnography of a national power grid.

References

ACAN. 2023. “Should there be a moratorium on new construction”? Debate held at Central St. Martins, London. 15 November. https://youtu.be/09RRp_fZsVM?si=UEi5UsTTrb3RVrqy.

Alter, L. 2022. “This anonymous manifesto outlines how architects can design for degrowth.” Treehugger. 9 August. https://www.treehugger.com/anonymous-architecture-degrowth-manifesto-6375359.

Anker, P. 2010. From Bauhaus to ecohouse: A history of ecological design. Louisiana State University Press.

Architecture 2030. “Why the built environment?” https://www.architecture2030.org/why-the-built-environment/. Accessed 19 April, 2024.

Architects Declare. 2024. “UK architects declare regenerative design primer.” Report. https://www.architectsdeclare.com/uploads/AD-Regenerative-Design-Primer-March-2024.pdf. Accessed 19 April, 2024.

Barber, D. 2023. “Thermal practices: A projective history of architecture and the environment.” Presentation delivered to AIA Houston. https://youtu.be/gEjU1H1TZJU?si=PlPu-5c8hUvG4jWb. Accessed 20 April 2024.

Brand, U, and Wissen, M. 2021. The imperial mode of living: Everyday life and the ecological crisis of capitalism. Verso.

Galluzzo, A. 2023. Against the vortex: Zardoz and degrowth utopias in the seventies and today. John Hunt Publishing.

Günel, G. 2019. Spaceship in the desert: Energy, climate change, and urban design in Abu Dhabi. Duke University Press.

Harkness, R. 2011. “Earthships: The homes that trash built.” Anthropology Now 3 (1): 54-65.

Harries, K. 1998. The Ethical function of architecture. MIT press.

Heidegger, M. 1971. Poetry, language, thought. Translated by Albert Hofstadter. Harper Colophon.

Hurst, W. 2019. “Concrete: do architects have their head in the sand?” Architect’s Journal, 16 January. https://www.architectsjournal.co.uk/news/concrete-do-architects-have-their-heads-in-the-sand#Echobox=1547730621

Jarzombek, M. 2019. “The quadrivium industrial complex.” E-Fluxhttps://www.e-flux.com/architecture/overgrowth/296508/the-quadrivium-industrial-complex/.

King, B, and Chris, M. 2022. Build beyond zero: New ideas for carbon-smart architecture. Island Press.

Lokko, M. and Eglash, R. 2017. “Transforming the poor man’s building block: value creation, translation and circulation for upcycled indigenous building materials.” Folio Journal of African Architecture 1. 

Material Cultures. 2022. Material reform: building for a post-carbon future. MACK. 

Minkjan, Mark. 2019. “Degrowth is about redistribution by design, not by collapse.” Failed Architecture. 17 September. https://failedarchitecture.com/degrowth-is-about-redistribution-by-design-not-by-collapse/

Malpas, J. 2021. Rethinking dwelling: Heidegger, place, architecture. Bloomsbury.

Islam. S, T. Hart, E. Walport, & R. Frith. 2021. “Circular biobased construction in the Yorkshire and the Northeast.” Material Cultures. Research Report. https://materialcultures.org/2021-circular-biobased-construction-in-the-north-east-and-yorkshire/

Narath, A. 2024. Solar adobe: energy, ecology, and earthen architecture. University of Minnesota Press.

Nelson, K. 2024. ‘A roof over our people’s heads’: the Indigenous US tribe building hempcrete homes.” 16 April. https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2024/apr/16/hempcrete-indigenous-tribe-minnesota

Reversing Climate Change. 2021. “Innovations in carbon beneficial building materials—with Chris Magwood & Jacob Deva Racusin.” Podcast. 27 January, 2021.

Further contributions to this debate:

Our future in the Anthropocene biosphere

Abstract

The COVID-19 pandemic has exposed an interconnected and tightly coupled globalized world in rapid change. This article sets the scientific stage for understanding and responding to such change for global sustainability and resilient societies. We provide a systemic overview of the current situation where people and nature are dynamically intertwined and embedded in the biosphere, placing shocks and extreme events as part of this dynamic; humanity has become the major force in shaping the future of the Earth system as a whole; and the scale and pace of the human dimension have caused climate change, rapid loss of biodiversity, growing inequalities, and loss of resilience to deal with uncertainty and surprise. Taken together, human actions are challenging the biosphere foundation for a prosperous development of civilizations. The Anthropocene reality—of rising system-wide turbulence—calls for transformative change towards sustainable futures. Emerging technologies, social innovations, broader shifts in cultural repertoires, as well as a diverse portfolio of active stewardship of human actions in support of a resilient biosphere are highlighted as essential parts of such transformations.

Introduction

Humans are the dominant force of change on the planet, giving rise to a new epoch referred to as the Anthropocene. This new epoch has profound meaning for humanity and one that we are only beginning to fully comprehend. We now know that society needs to be viewed as part of the biosphere, not separate from it. Depending on the collective actions of humanity, future conditions could be either beneficial or hostile for human life and wellbeing in the Anthropocene biosphere. Whether humanity has the collective wisdom to navigate the Anthropocene to sustain a livable biosphere for people and civilizations, as well as for the rest of life with which we share the planet, is the most formidable challenge facing humanity.

This article provides a systemic overview of the Anthropocene biosphere, a biosphere shaped by human actions. It is structured around the core themes of the first Nobel Prize Summit—Our Planet, Our Future, namely climate change and biodiversity loss, inequality and global sustainability, and science, technology, and innovation to enable societal transformations while anticipating and reducing potential harms. These interconnected themes are framed in the context of the biosphere and the Earth system foundation for global sustainability, emphasizing that people and nature are deeply intertwined. Scientific evidence makes clear that both climate change and biodiversity loss are symptoms of the great acceleration of human actions into the Anthropocene, rather than independent phenomena, and that they interact, and interact with social, economic, and cultural development. It emphasizes that efficiency through simplification of our global production ecosystem challenges biosphere resilience in times when resilience is needed more than ever, as a critical asset of flexibility and insurance, for navigating rising turbulence, extreme events, and the profound uncertainty of the Anthropocene. This implies that not only will it be critical to curb human-induced climate change but also to enhance the regenerative capacity of the biosphere, and its diversity, to support and sustain societal development, to collaborate with the planet that is our home, and collaborate in a socially just and sustainable manner. This is the focus of the last part of this article on biosphere stewardship for prosperity. We stress that prosperity and wellbeing for present and future generations will require mobilization, innovation, and narratives of societal transformations that connect development to stewardship of human actions as part of our life-supporting biosphere.

The biosphere and the earth system foundation

Embedded in the biosphere

The Universe is immense, estimates suggest at least two trillion galaxies (Conselice et al. 2016). Our galaxy, the Milky Way, holds 100 to 400 billion stars. One of those stars, our sun, has eight planets orbiting it. One of those, planet Earth, has a biosphere, a complex web of life, at its surface. The thickness of this layer is about twenty kilometres (twelve miles). This layer, our biosphere, is the only place where we know life exists. We humans emerged and evolved within the biosphere. Our economies, societies, and cultures are part of it. It is our home.

Across the ocean and the continents, the biosphere integrates all living beings, their diversity, and their relationships. There is a dynamic connection between the living biosphere and the broader Earth system, with the atmosphere, the hydrosphere, the lithosphere, the cryosphere, and the climate system. Life in the biosphere is shaped by the global atmospheric circulation, jet streams, atmospheric rivers, water vapour and precipitation patterns, the spread of ice sheets and glaciers, soil formation, upwelling currents of coastlines, the ocean’s global conveyer belt, the distribution of the ozone layer, movements of the tectonic plates, earthquakes, and volcanic eruptions. Water serves as the bloodstream of the biosphere, and the carbon, nitrogen, and other biogeochemical cycles are essential for all life on Earth (Falkenmark et al. 2019; Steffen et al. 2020). It is the complex adaptive interplay between living organisms, the climate, and broader Earth system processes that has evolved into a resilient biosphere.

The biosphere has existed for about 3.5 billion years. Modern humans (Homo sapiens) have effectively been around in the biosphere for some 250 000 years (Mounier and Lahr 2019). Powered by the sun, the biosphere and the Earth system coevolve with human actions as an integral part of this coevolution (Lenton 2016; Jörgensen et al. 2019). Social conditions, health, culture, democracy, power, justice, inequity, matters of security, and even survival are interwoven with the Earth system and its biosphere in a complex interplay of local, regional, and worldwide interactions and dependencies (Folke et al. 2016).

Belief systems that view humans and nature as separate entities have emerged with economic development, technological change, and cultural evolution. But the fact that humans are living within and dependent upon a resilient biosphere has and will not change. Existing as embedded within the biosphere means that the environment is not something outside the economy or society, or a driver to be accounted for when preferred, but rather the very foundation that civilizations exist within and rely upon (Fig. 1).

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Fig. 1

A dominant force on earth

The human population reached one billion around 1800. It doubled to two billion around 1930, and doubled again to four billion around 1974. The global population is now approaching 8 billion and is expected to stabilize around 9–11 billion towards the end of this century (UN 2019). During the past century, and especially since the 1950s, there has been an amazing acceleration and expansion of human activities into a converging globalized society, supported by the discovery and use of fossil energy and innovations in social organization, technology, and cultural evolution (Ellis 2015; van der Leeuw 2019). Globalization has helped focus attention on human rights, international relations, and agreements leading to collaboration (Keohane et al. 2009; Rogelj et al. 2016; Bain 2019) and, rather remarkably, it appears, at least so far, to have inhibited large-scale conflict between states that have plagued civilizations from time immemorial. Health and material standards of living for many have improved and more people live longer than at any time in history. Boundaries between developed and developing regions have become blurred, and global economic activity is increasingly dispersed across production networks that connect metropolitan areas around the world (Coe et al. 2004; Liu et al. 2015).

Now, there is ample evidence that the cumulative human culture has expanded to such an extent that it has become a significant global force affecting the operation of the Earth system and its biosphere at the planetary level (Steffen et al. 2018). As a reflection of this unprecedented expansion, a new geological epoch—the Anthropocene, the age of mankind—has been proposed in the Geological Time Scale (AWG 2019).

Work on anthropogenic biomes finds that more than 75% of Earth’s ice-free land is directly altered as a result of human activity, with nearly 90% of terrestrial net primary production and 80% of global tree cover under direct human influence (Ellis and Ramankutty 2008). Similarly, in the ocean, no area is unaffected by human influence and a large fraction (41%) is strongly affected by multiple human impacts (Halpern et al. 2008). For example, oxygen-minimum zones for life and oxygen concentrations in both the open ocean and coastal waters have been declining since at least the middle of the twentieth century, as a consequence of rising nutrient loads from human actions coupled with warmer temperatures (Limburg et al. 2020). Just as on land, there has been a blue acceleration in the ocean, with more than 50% of the vast ocean seabed claimed by nations (Jouffray et al. 2020).

The human dominance is further reflected in the weight of the current human population—10 times the weight of all wild mammals. If we add the weight of livestock for human use and consumption to the human weight, only 4% of the weight of mammals on Earth remain wild mammals. The weight of domesticated birds exceeds that of wild birds by about threefold (Bar-On et al. 2018). The human dimension has become a dominant force in shaping evolution of all species on Earth. Through artificial selection and controlled reproduction of crops, livestock, trees, and microorganisms, through varying levels of harvest pressure and selection, through chemicals and pollution altering life-histories of species, and by sculpting the new habitats that blanket the planet, humans, directly and indirectly, determine the constitution of species that succeed and fail (Jörgensen et al. 2019).

Humans are now primarily an urban species, with about 55% of the population living in urban areas. By mid-century, about 7 out of 10 people are expected to live in cities and towns (UN DESA 2018). In terms of urban land area, this is equivalent to building a city the size of New York City every 8 days (Huang et al. 2019). Urbanization leads to more consumption, and the power relations, inequalities, behaviours, and choices of urban dwellers shape landscapes and seascapes and their diversity around the world (Seto et al. 2012ab). There is growing evidence that urban areas accelerate evolutionary changes for species that play important functional roles in communities and ecosystems (Alberti et al. 2017).

In addition, essential features of the globalized world like physical infrastructure, technological artefacts, novel substances, and associated social and technological networks have been developing extraordinarily fast. The total weight of everything made by humans—from houses and bridges to computers and clothes—is about to exceed the mass of all living things on Earth (Elhacham et al. 2020). The extensive “technosphere” dimension underscores the novelty of the ongoing planetary changes, plays a significant role in shaping global biosphere dynamics, and has already left a deep imprint on the Earth system (Zalasiewicz et al. 2017).

The notion that humanity is external to the biosphere has allowed for models in which technological progress is expected to enable humanity to enjoy ever-growing GDP and thus consumption. This view was comparatively harmless, as long as the biosphere was sufficiently resilient to supply the demands humanity made of it. This is no longer the case, and it has far-reaching implications for contemporary models of economic possibilities that many still work with and draw policy conclusions from (Dasgupta and Ramanathan 2014; Dasgupta 2021).

The intertwined planet of people and nature

The Anthropocene is characterized by a tightly interconnected world operating at high speeds with hyper-efficiency in several dimensions. These dimensions include the globalized food production and distribution system, extensive trade and transport systems, strong connectivity of financial and capital markets, internationalized supply and value chains, widespread movements of people, social innovations, development and exchange of technology, and widespread communication capacities (Helbing 2013) (Fig. 2).

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Fig. 2

In the Anthropocene biosphere, systems of people and nature are not just linked but intertwined, and intertwined across temporal and spatial scales (Reyers et al. 2018). Local events can escalate into global challenges, and local places are shaped by global dynamics (Adger et al. 2009; Crona et al. 20152016; Liu et al. 2016; Kummu et al. 2020). The tightly coupled human interactions of globalization that allow for the continued flow of information, capital, goods, services, and people, also create global systemic risk (Centeno et al. 2015; Galaz et al. 2017). However, this interplay is not only global between people and societies but co-evolving also with biosphere dynamics shaping the preconditions for human wellbeing and civilizations (Jörgensen et al. 2018; Keys et al. 2019). For example, extreme-weather and geopolitical events, interacting with the dynamics of the food system (Cottrell et al. 2019), can spill over multiple sectors and create synchronous challenges among geographically disconnected areas and rapidly move across countries and regions (Rocha et al. 2018). The rise of antibiotic resistance, the rapid spread of the corona-pandemic, or altered moisture recycling across regions expose the intertwined world. Probabilities and consequences of the changes are not only scale dependent, but also changing over time as a result of human actions, where those actions can either exacerbate or mitigate the likelihood or consequences of a given event.

In the twenty-first century, people and planet are truly interwoven and coevolve, shaping the preconditions for civilizations. Our own future on Earth, as part of the biosphere, is at stake. This new reality has major implications for human wellbeing in the face of climate change, loss of biodiversity, and their interplay, as elaborated in the next section.

Climate change and loss of biodiversity

Contemporary climate change and biodiversity loss are not isolated phenomena but symptoms of the massive expansion of the human dimension into the Anthropocene. The climate system plays a central role for life on Earth. It sets the boundary for our living conditions. The climate system is integral to all other components of the Earth system, through heat exchange in the ocean, albedo dynamics of the ice sheets, carbon sinks in terrestrial ecosystems, cycles of nutrients and pollutants, and climate forcing through evapotranspiration flows in the hydrological cycle and greenhouse pollutants. Together these interactions in the Earth system interplay with the heat exchange from the sun and the return flow back to space, but also in significant ways with biosphere-climate feedbacks that either mitigate or amplify global warming. These global dynamics interact with regional environmental systems (like ENSO or the monsoon system) that have innate patterns of climate variability and also interact with one another via teleconnections (Steffen et al. 2020). The living organisms of the planet’s ecosystems play a significant role in these complex dynamics (Mace et al. 2014).

Now, human-induced global warming alters the capacity of the ocean, forests, and other ecosystems in sequestering about half of the CO2 emissions, as well as storing large amounts of greenhouse gases (GHG) in soils and peatlands (Steffen et al. 2018). Increased emissions of GHG by humans are creating severe climate shocks and extremes already at 1.2° warming compared to pre-industrial levels (WMO 2020). In addition, human homogenization and simplification of landscapes and seascapes cause loss of biosphere resilience, with subsequent erosion of the role of the fabric of nature in generating ecosystem services (Diaz et al. 2018) and serving as insurance to shocks and surprise and to tipping points and regime shifts (Nyström et al. 2019).

Climate change—stronger and faster than predicted

Earth has been oscillating between colder and warmer periods over a million years (the entire Pleistocene), but the average mean temperature has never exceeded 2 °C (interglacial) above or 6 °C below (deep ice age) the pre-industrial temperature on Earth (14 °C), reflecting the importance of feedbacks from the living biosphere as part of regulating the temperature dynamics of the Earth (Willeit et al. 2019) (Fig. 3b).

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Fig. 3

Human-induced global warming is unparalleled. For 98% of the planet’s surface, the warmest period of the past 2000 years occurred in the late twentieth century (Neukom et al. 2019) and has steadily increased into the twenty-first century with the average global temperature for 2015–2020 being the warmest of any equivalent period on record (WMO 2020). Already now at 1.2 °C warming compared to pre-industrial levels, we appear to be moving out of the accommodating Holocene environment that allowed agriculture and complex human societies to develop (Steffen et al. 2018) (Fig. 3a). Already within the coming 50 years, 1 to 3 billion people are projected to experience living conditions that are outside of the climate conditions that have served humanity well over the past 6000 years (Xu et al. 2020).

Currently, some 55% of global anthropogenic emissions causing global warming derive from the production of energy and its use in buildings and transport. The remaining 45% comes from human emissions that arise from the management of land and the production of buildings, vehicles, electronics, clothes, food, packaging, and other goods and materials (Ellen MacArthur Foundation 2019). The food system itself accounts for about 25% of the emissions (Mbow et al. 2019). Human-driven land-use change through agriculture, forestry, and other activities (Lambin and Meyfroidt 2011) causes about 14% of the emissions (Friedlingstein et al. 2020). Cities account for about 70% of CO2 emissions from final energy use and the highest emitting 100 urban areas for 18% of the global carbon footprint (Seto et al. 2014; Moran et al. 2018). About 70% of industrial greenhouse gas emissions are linked to 100 fossil-fuel producing companies (Griffin and Hede 2017). Collectively, the top 10 emitting countries account for three quarters of global GHG emissions, while the bottom 100 countries account for only 3.5% (WRI 2020). As a consequence of the pandemic, global fossil CO2 emission in 2020 decreased by about 7% compared to 2019 (Friedlingstein et al. 2020).

Climate change impacts are hitting people harder and sooner than envisioned a decade ago (Diffenbaugh 2020). This is especially true for extreme events, like heatwaves, droughts, wildfires, extreme precipitation, floods, storms, and variations in their frequency, magnitude, and duration. The distribution and impacts of extreme events are often region specific (Turco et al. 2018; Yin et al. 2018). For example, Europe has experienced several extreme heat waves since 2000 and the number of heat waves, heavy downpours, and major hurricanes, and the strength of these events, has increased in the United States. The risk for wildfires in Australia has increased by at least 30% since 1900 as a result of anthropogenic climate change (van Oldenborgh et al. 2020). The recent years of repeated wildfires in the western U.S. and Canada have had devastating effects (McWethy et al. 2019). Extreme events have the potential to widen existing inequalities within and between countries and regions (UNDP 2019). In particular, synchronous extremes are risky in a globally connected world and may cause disruptions in global food production (Cottrell et al. 2019; Gaupp et al. 2020). Pandemics, like the COVID-19 outbreak and associated health responses, intersect with climate hazards and are exacerbated by the economic crisis and long-standing socioeconomic and racial disparities, both within countries and across regions (Phillips et al. 2020).

Some of these changes will happen continuously and gradually over time, while others take the form of more sudden and surprising change (Cumming and Peterson 2017). In addition, some are to some extent predictable, others more uncertain and unexpected. An analysis of a large database of social-ecological regime shifts (large shifts in the structure and function of social-ecological systems, transitions that may have substantial impacts on human economies and societies), suggests that in the intertwined world one change may lead to another, or that events can co-occur because they simply share the same driver (Rocha et al. 2018). Large-scale transitions can unfold when a series of linked elements are all close to a tipping point, making it easier for one transition to set off the others like a chain reaction or domino effect (Scheffer et al. 2012; Lenton et al. 2019).

With increased warming, humanity risks departing the glacier-interglacial dynamics of the past 2.6 million years (Burke et al. 2018). If efforts to constrain emissions fail, the global average temperature by 2100 is expected to increase 3–5 °C (IPCC 2014) above pre-industrial levels. Although higher global temperatures have occurred in deep geological time, living in a biosphere with a mean annual global temperature exceeding 2 °C of the pre-industrial average (Fig. 3) is largely unknown terrain for humanity and certainly novel terrain for contemporary society.

The climate and the biosphere interplay

The relation between climate and the biosphere is being profoundly altered and reshaped by human action. The total amount of carbon stored in terrestrial ecosystems is huge, almost 60 times larger than the current annual emissions of global GHG (CO2 equivalents, 2017) by humans, and with the major part, about 70% (1500–2400 Gt C) found in soil (Ciais et al. 2013). The ocean holds a much larger carbon pool, at about 38 000 Gt of carbon (Houghton 2007). Thus far, terrestrial and marine ecosystems have served as important sinks for carbon dioxide and thereby contribute significantly to stabilizing the climate. At current global average temperature, the ocean absorbs about 25% of annual carbon emissions (Gruber et al. 2019) and absorbs over 90% of the additional heat generated from those emissions. Land-based ecosystems like forests, wetlands, and grasslands bind carbon dioxide through growth, and all in all sequester close to 30% of anthropogenic CO2 emissions (Global Carbon Project 2019).

The biosphere’s climate stabilization is a critical ecosystem service, or Earth system service, which cannot be taken for granted. Recent research has shown that not only human land-use change but also climate impacts, like extreme events and temperature change, increasingly threaten carbon sinks. For example, the vast fires in Borneo in 1997 released an equivalent of 13–40% of the mean annual global carbon emissions from fossil fuels at that time (Page et al. 2002; Folke et al. 2011). The devastating forest fires of 2019 in Australia, Indonesia, and the Amazon triggered emissions equivalent to almost 40% of the annual global carbon sink on land and in the ocean (www.globalfiredata.org).

The Earth system contains several biophysical sub-systems that can exist in multiple states and which contribute to the regulation of the state of the planet as a whole (Steffen et al. 2018). These so-called tipping elements, or sleeping giants (Fig. 4), have been identified as critical in maintaining the planet in favourable Holocene-like conditions. These are now challenged by global warming and human actions, threatening to trigger self-reinforcing feedbacks and cascading effects, which could push the Earth system towards a planetary threshold that, if crossed, could prevent stabilization of the climate at intermediate global warming and cause escalating climate change along a “Hothouse Earth” pathway even as human emissions are reduced (Steffen et al. 2018). Observations find that nine of these known sleeping giants, thought to be reasonably stable, are now undergoing large-scale changes already at current levels of warming, with possible domino effects to come (Lenton et al. 2019).

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Fig. 4

The significance of the challenge of holding global warming in line with the Paris climate target is obvious. As a matter of fact, the challenge is broader than climate alone. It is about navigating towards a safe-operating space that depends on maintaining a high level of Earth resilience. Incremental tweaking and marginal adjustments will not suffice. Major transformations towards just and sustainable futures are the bright way forward.

The living biosphere and Earth system dynamics

The interactions and diversity of organisms within and across the planet’s ecosystems play critical roles in the coevolution of the biosphere and the broader Earth system. For example, major biomes like tropical and temperate forests and their biological diversity transpire water vapour that connects distant regions through precipitation (Gleeson et al. 2020ab). Nearly a fifth of annual average precipitation falling on land is from vegetation-regulated moisture recycling, with several places receiving nearly half their precipitation through this ecosystem service. Such water connections are critical for semi-arid regions reliant on rain-fed agricultural production and for water supply to major cities like Sao Paulo or Rio de Janeiro (Keys et al. 2016). As many as 19 megacities depend for more than a third of their water supply on water vapour from land, a dependence especially relevant during dry years (Keys et al. 2018). In some of the world’s largest river basins, precipitation is influenced more strongly by land-use change taking place outside than inside the river basin (Wang-Erlandsson et al. 2018).

The biosphere contains life-supporting ecosystems supplying essential ecosystem services that underpin human wellbeing and socioeconomic development. For example, the biosphere strongly influences the chemical and physical compositions of the atmosphere, and biodiversity contributes through its influence in generating and maintaining soils, controlling pests, pollinating food crops, and participating in biogeochemical cycles (Daily 1997). The ocean’s food webs, continental shelves, and estuaries support the production of seafood, serve as a sink for greenhouse gases, maintain water quality, and hedge against unanticipated ecosystem changes from natural or anthropogenic causes (Worm et al. 2006). These services represent critical life-supporting functions for humanity (Odum 1989; Reyers and Selig 2020) and biological diversity plays fundamental roles in these nature’s contributions to people (Diaz et al. 2018).

Biodiversity performing vital roles in biosphere resilience

Organisms do not just exist and compete, they perform critical functions in ecosystem dynamics and in creating and providing social-ecological resilience (Folke et al. 2004; Hooper et al. 2005; Tilman et al. 2014) (Fig. 5). Resilience refers to the capacity of a system to persist with change, to continue to develop with ever changing environments (Reyers et al. 2018).

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Fig. 5

Biodiversity plays significant roles in buffering shocks and extreme events, and in regime shift dynamics (Folke et al. 2004). The diversity of functional groups and traits of species and populations are essential for ecosystem integrity and the generation of ecosystem services (Peterson et al. 1998; Hughes et al. 2007; Isbell et al. 2017). Variation in responses of species performing the same function is crucial in resilience to shocks or extreme events (Chapin et al. 1997). Such “response diversity”, serves as insurance for the capacity of ecosystems to regenerate, continue to develop after disturbance and support human wellbeing (Elmqvist et al. 2003).

The Amazon rainforest is a prime example. Conserving a diversity of plants species may enable the Amazon forests to adjust to new climate conditions and protect the critical carbon sink function (Sakschewski et al. 2016). Frequent extreme drought events have the potential to destabilize large parts of the Amazon forest especially when subsoil moisture is low (Singh et al. 2020), but the risk of self-amplified forest loss is reduced with increasing heterogeneity in the response of forest patches to reduced rainfall (Zemp et al. 2017). However, continuous deforestation and simultaneous warming are likely to push the forest towards tipping points with wide-ranging implications (Hirota et al. 2011; Staver et al. 2011; Lovejoy and Nobre 2018). Also, with greater climate variability, tree longevity is shortened, thus, influencing carbon accumulation and the role of the Amazon forest as a carbon sink (Brienen et al. 2015). A large-scale shift of the Amazon would cause major impacts on wellbeing far outside the Amazon basin through changes in precipitation and climate regulation, and by linking with other tipping elements in the Earth system (Fig. 4).

Hence, the resilience of multifunctional ecosystems across space and time, and in both aquatic and terrestrial environments, depends on the contributions of many species, and their distribution, redundancy, and richness at multitrophic levels performing critical functions in ecosystems and biosphere dynamics (Mori et al. 2013; Nash et al. 2016; Soliveres et al. 2016; Frei et al. 2020). Biodiversity and a resilient biosphere are a reflection of life continuously being confronted with uncertainty and the unknown. Diversity builds and sustains insurance and keeps systems resilient to changing circumstances (Hendershot et al. 2020).

Homogenization, hyper-connectivity, and critical transitions

Conversion and degradation of habitats have caused global biodiversity declines and defaunation (human-caused animal loss), with extensive cascading effects in marine, terrestrial, and freshwater ecosystems as a result, and altered ecosystem functions and services (Laliberte et al. 2010; Estes et al. 2011). Over the past 50 years of human acceleration, the capacity of nature to support quality of life has declined in 78% of the 18 categories of nature’s contributions to people considered by the Intergovernmental Science-Policy Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services (Diaz et al. 2018).

Much of the Earth’s biosphere has been converted into production ecosystems, i.e. ecosystems simplified and homogenized for the production of one or a few harvestable species (Nyström et al. 2019). Urbanization is a force in homogenizing and altering biodiversity in landscapes and seascapes (Seto et al. 2012b), and over the past decade land-use change (Meyfroidt et al. 2018) accounted for nearly a quarter of all anthropogenic greenhouse gas emissions (Arneth et al. 2019).

The increase in homogeneity worldwide denotes the establishment of a global standard food supply, which is relatively species rich at the national level, but species poor globally (Khoury et al. 2014). Globally, local varieties and breeds of domesticated plants and animals are disappearing (Diaz et al. 2018). Land-use intensification homogenizes biodiversity in local assemblages of species worldwide (Newbold et al. 2018) and counteracts a positive association between species richness and dietary quality. It also affects ecosystem services and wellbeing in low- and middle-income countries (Lachat et al. 2018; Vang Rasmussen et al. 2018). In much of the world more than half, up to 90%, of locally adapted varieties of major crop species (e.g. wheat and rice) have been lost due to replacement by single high-yielding varieties (Heal et al. 2004).

The simplification and intensification of production ecosystems and their tight connectivity with international markets have yielded a global production ecosystem that is very efficient in delivering goods to markets, but globally homogeneous, highly interconnected, and characterized by weakened internal feedbacks that mask or dilute the signals of loss of ecosystem resilience to consumers (Nyström et al. 2019; Ortiz et al. 2021). In addition, the global food trade network has over the past 20 years become progressively delocalized as a result of globalization (that is, modularity has been reduced) and as connectivity and homogeneity increase, shocks that were previously contained within a geographical area or a sector are becoming globally contagious and more prevalent (Tamea et al. 2016; Tu et al. 2019; Kummu et al. 2020).

Homogenization reduces resilience, the capacity to live and develop with change and uncertainty, and therby the diversity of ways in which species, people, sectors, and institutions can respond to change as well as their potential to functionally complement each other (Biggs et al. 2012; Grêt-Regamey et al. 2019; Nyström et al. 2019). In addition, homogeneous landscapes lack the diversity of ecosystem types for resilient responses when a single homogeneous landscape patch, such as a production forest or crop, is devastated by pathogens or declines in economic value. In addition, such ecosystem simplification and degradation increase the likelihood of disease emergence, including novel viruses (Myers and Patz 2009). In parallel, people, places, cultures, and economies are increasingly linked across geographical locations and socioeconomic contexts, making people and planet intertwined at all scales.

Evidence suggests that homogenization, simplification, intensification, strong connections, as well as suppression of variance, increase the likelihood of regime shifts, or critical transitions with thresholds and tipping points (Scheffer et al. 2012; Carpenter et al. 2015). These shifts may interact and cascade, thereby causing change at very large scales with severe implications for the wellbeing of human societies (Hughes et al. 2013; Rocha et al. 2018). Comparison of the present extent of biosphere conversion with past global-scale regime shifts suggests that global-scale biosphere regime shift is more than plausible (Barnosky et al. 2012). The biotic hallmark for each earlier biosphere regime shifts was pronounced change in global, regional, and local assemblages of species (Barnosky et al. 2012).

Planetary boundaries and a safe-operating space for humanity

It is in the self-interest of humanity to avoid pushing ecosystems or the entire Earth system across tipping points. Therefore, a major challenge is to enhance biosphere resilience and work towards stabilizing the Earth system and its biosphere in a state that, hopefully, is safe for humanity to operate within, albeit a warmer state than the Holocene and one with a human-dominated biosphere. Clearly, the climatic system and the biological diversity and functional integrity of the biosphere, as well as their interplay, are foundational for cultivating a resilient Earth system.

Climate and biosphere integrity constitute the two fundamental dimensions of the Planetary Boundaries framework, which delineates a Holocene-like state of the Earth system, the state that has enabled civilizations to emerge and flourish (Fig. 6). Four of the nine boundaries, including climate and biodiversity, are estimated to already have been transgressed. The framework provides a natural-science-based observation that human forcing has already, at the planetary scale, rapidly pushed the Earth system away from the Holocene-like conditions and onto an accelerating Anthropocene trajectory (Steffen et al. 2018).

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Fig. 6

In recent years, there have been several efforts to further investigate and deepen the understanding of planetary boundaries and the safe-operating space for humanity. These include updates on the biodiversity boundary, the freshwater boundary, the biogeochemical flows (Carpenter and Bennett 2011; de Vries et al. 2013; Mace et al. 2014; Newbold et al. 2016; Gleeson et al. 2020b), multiple regime shifts and possible links between regional and planetary tipping points (Anderies et al. 2013; Hughes et al. 2013), regional perspectives on the framework (Häyhä et al. 2016; O’Neill et al. 2018), and creating safe-operating spaces (Scheffer et al. 2015). Attempts to quantify interactions between planetary boundaries suggest that cascades and feedbacks predominantly amplify human impacts on the Earth system and thereby shrink the safe-operating space for human actions in the Anthropocene (Lade et al. 2020).

There are also propositions for integrating the planetary boundaries framework with economic, social, and human dimensions (Raworth 2012; Dearing et al. 2014; Downing et al. 2019) as well as tackling the policy and governance challenges associated with the approach (Biermann et al. 2012; Galaz et al. 2012; Sterner et al. 2019; Pickering and Persson 2020; Engström et al. 2020). The global food system is also placed within the framework of the planetary boundaries (Gordon et al. 2017), like in the EAT-Lancet Commission’s report on healthy diets from sustainable food systems for nearly 10 billion people by 2050 (Willett et al. 2019).

In light of the profound challenges of navigating the future of human societies towards a stabilized Earth state, it becomes clear that modest adjustments on current pathways of societal development are not very likely to guide humanity into sustainable futures (Kates et al. 2012). Stabilizing the Earth system in a safe-operating space will require transformative changes in many dimensions of human actions and relations (Westley et al. 2011; Sachs et al. 2019).

Inequality and global sustainability

Inequality describes an unequal distribution of a scarce resource, benefit, or cost and does not necessarily represent a normative statement. Inequity is a more normative term that evokes an unfair or unjust distribution of privileges across society. There are complex interconnections between inequality, the biosphere, and global sustainability (Hamann et al. 2018) (Fig. 7) that go beyond unequal distribution of income or wealth, like distributional, recognitional, and procedural inequities (Leach et al. 2018). Distributional equity refers to how different groups may have access to resources, and how costs, harms, and benefits are shared. Recognitional equity highlights the ongoing struggle for recognition of a diversity of perspectives and groups, e.g. referring to nationality, ethnicity, or gender, whereas procedural equity focuses on how different groups and perspectives are able to engage in and influence decision-making processes and outcomes (Leach et al. 2018). Approaches to sustainability generally include some form of equality, universal prosperity, and poverty alleviation. Global environmental change and unsustainable practices may exacerbate inequalities (Hamann et al. 2018). Greater inequality may lead to weaker economic performance and cause economic instability (Stiglitz 2012). Increasing income inequality may also lead to more societal tension and increase the odds of conflict (Durante et al. 2017).

figure 7
Fig. 7

Rising inequality

The majority of countries for which adequate data exist have seen rising inequality in income and wealth over the past several decades (Piketty 2014). In the U.S., Europe, and China, the top 10% of the population own 70% of the wealth, while the bottom 50% own only 2%. In the U.S., the share of income going to the top 1% rose from around 11% in 1980 to above 20% in 2016 (World Inequality Report 2018), and the share of wealth of the top 0.1% more than tripled between 1978 and 2012, and is roughly equal to the share of wealth of the bottom 90% (Saez and Zucman 2016). Also, the wealthiest 1% of the world’s population have been responsible for more than twice as much carbon pollution as the poorest half of humanity (Kartha et al. 2020). Seventy-five per cent of the world’s cities have higher levels of income inequalities than two decades ago, and the spatial concentration of low-income unskilled workers in segregated residential areas acts as a poverty trap (UN-Habitat 2016). About 10% of the world population in 2015, or some 740 million people, were living in extreme poverty (World Bank 2019).

Inequality can impact the sense of community, common purpose, and trust (Jachimowicz et al. 2017) and influences successful management of common pool resources in different ways (Baland et al. 2007). Inequality may give rise to perceptions, behaviour, and social norms about status and wealth, and disparities in worth and cultural membership between groups in a society—so-called “recognition gaps” (Lamont 2018).

Inequalities and the environment

Greater inequality can lead to more rapid environmental degradation, because low incomes lead to low investment in physical capital and education. Such situations often cause excessive pressure and degradation of natural capital leading to declining incomes and further degradation in a downward spiral, a poverty trap (Bowles et al. 2006). Furthermore, interventions that ignore nature and culture can reinforce poverty traps (Lade et al. 2017), and economic and environmental shocks, food insecurity, and climate change may force people back into poverty (lack of resources and capacities to fulfil basic needs) (Kates and Dasgupta 2007; Wood et al. 2018).

Gender, class, caste, and ethnic identities and relationships, and the specific social, economic and political power, roles and responsibilities they entail, shape the choices and decisions open to individuals and households in dealing with the climate and environmental risks they face (Rao et al. 2020). Gender inequality has important reinforcing feedbacks with environmental change (Fortnam et al. 2019) and has, for example, been shown to change with shifts in tropical land use in Indonesia (Maharani et al. 2019) or with changes in levels of direct use of local ecosystem services by households in South Africa (Hamann et al. 2015). Climate change is projected to disproportionally influence disadvantaged groups, especially women, girls, and indigenous communities (Islam and Winkel 2017).

People with less agency and fewer resources at their disposal are more vulnerable to climate change (Althor et al. 2016; Morton 2007) and to environmental shocks and extreme events such as floods and droughts (Hallegatte et al. 2016; Jachimowicz et al. 2017). The COVID-19 pandemic has further exposed the inequality in vulnerability to shocks among communities that lack the financial resources and essentials for a minimum standard of living, feeding off existing inequalities and making them worse (Drefahl et al. 2020; Stiglitz 2020). There is significant concern that climate-driven events exacerbate conflict because they affect economic insecurity which, in itself, has been shown to be a major cause of violent conflict and unrest (Mach et al. 2019; Ide et al. 2020).

Vulnerability to climate change is also due to many low-income countries’ location in low latitudes where further warming pushes these countries ever further away from optimal temperatures for climate-sensitive economic sectors (King and Harrington 2018). Examples include countries with high numbers of vulnerable, poor or marginalized people in climate-sensitive systems like deltas, semi-arid lands, and river basins dependent on glaciers and snowmelt (Conway et al. 2019). Changes to glaciers, snow and ice in mountains will likely influence water availability for over a billion people downstream by mid-century (Pihl et al. 2019). Under future scenarios of land-use and climate change, up to 5 billion people face higher water pollution and insufficient pollination for nutrition, particularly in Africa and South Asia. Hundreds of millions of people face heightened coastal risk across Africa, Eurasia, and the Americas (Chaplin-Kramer et al. 2019).

Ocean inequity

In the ocean, inequity manifests, for example, in skewed distribution of commercial fish catches, limited political power of small-scale fishers, particularly women and other minority groups, limited engagement of developing nations in high-seas activities and associated decision making, and consolidated interests of global supply chains in a few transnational corporations, with evidence of poor transparency and human rights abuses (Österblom et al. 2019). The results of inequity include a loss of livelihoods and limited financial opportunities, increased vulnerabilities of already marginalized groups, who are facing nutritional and food security challenges, and negative impacts on marine ecosystems (Harper et al. 2013; Hicks et al. 2019).

Coastal communities are sensitive to climate-induced shifts in the distribution and abundance of fish stocks crucial to their livelihoods and nutrition (Blasiak et al. 2017). This accentuated sensitivity is coupled with comparatively low levels of adaptive capacity, as remote coastal communities often have limited access to education, health services and alternative livelihoods, all of which could buffer the projected negative impacts from climate change (Cinner et al. 2018).

As a means to improve fish abundance for coastal communities of low-income nations, there have been suggestions of closing the high seas to fishing through groups of states that commit to a set of international rules. This would not only slow the pace of overfishing, but would also rebuild stocks that migrate into countries’ Exclusive Economic Zones (EEZs), which could reduce inequality by 50% in the distribution of fisheries benefits among the world’s maritime countries (Sumaila et al. 2015; Green and Rudyk 2020).

Inequities and sustainability

Alleviating inequality and poverty is a central objective of the U.N. Sustainable Development Goals agreed to by national governments. Achieving global sustainability is another important set of objectives in the Sustainable Development Goals. The relation between inequality and sustainability is the outcome of this dynamics and not simply of cause and effect, but rather unfolding in different places, as experienced and understood by the people living there. Supporting and enhancing the emergence of capacities for dealing with shocks and surprises as part of strategies for learning and developing with change in the turbulent times of the Anthropocene will be central to confront inequality and advance wellbeing (Biggs et al. 2012; Clark and Harley 2020). Multiple inequities and sustainabilities will require diverse forms of responses, attuned to diverse contexts (Leach et al 2018; Clark and Harley 2020) (Fig. 8) and framed by transformations towards global sustainability as embedded in the biosphere (Westley et al. 2011).

figure 8
Fig. 8

Societal transformation and technological change

By transformation, we refer to the capacity to create fundamentally new systems of human–environmental interactions and feedbacks when ecological, economic, or social structures make the continuation of the existing system untenable (Folke et al. 2010). It involves multiple elements, including agency, practices, behaviours, incentives, institutions, beliefs, values, and world views and their leverage points at multiple levels (Abson et al. 2017; Moore and Milkoreit 2020). Understanding transformation goes beyond a focus on the triggers, to unravelling the capacities for reducing resilience of an undesired, status quo, system, and nurturing and navigating the emergence of new, desired systems (Elmqvist et al. 2019); to confront path-dependencies, build capacities for new shocks and risks, and shift towards sustainable pathways (Olsson et al. 2017).

Here, we stress that technological change and social innovation in relation to sustainability will need a deeper focus on intertwined social-ecological interactions and feedbacks of the Anthropocene, since that will be necessary to understand and achieve large-scale changes towards global sustainability. We start this section with the role of emerging technologies and social media in this context, followed by findings from social innovation and transformation research and with an emphasis on the significance of narratives of hope for shifting towards sustainable futures.

Emerging technologies and sustainability

Most likely, technological change such as information technology, artificial intelligence, and synthetic biology will drastically change economies, human relations, social organization, culture and civilization, creating new unknown futures. However, technological change alone will not lead to transformations towards sustainability. It could lead humanity in diverse directions, pleasant and unpleasant ones, and with different social and environmental impacts. For example, rapid advances in sequencing technologies and bioinformatics have enabled exploration of the ocean genome, but the capacity to access and use sequence data is inequitably distributed among countries and companies (Blasiak et al. 20182020). The technological dimension of development has to be deliberately and strategically guided, to contribute to just and sustainable futures and guided how and by whom as a central challenge (Galaz 2014; van der Leeuw 2018).

On the other hand, it is most unlikely that transformations to sustainability will happen without the deployment of technologies that, e.g. help build resilience and development on the ground (Brown 2016), support transformations of current food production and innovation systems (Gordon et al. 2017; Costello et al. 2020), and contribute to a shift towards carbon neutral (or even negative) energy systems (Rockström et al. 2017).

The following categories of new technologies are already having bearing on global sustainability: the diversity of existing and emerging renewable energy technologies, like solar cells, hydrogen energy, wind generators, or geothermal heating; technologies that remove greenhouse gases from the atmosphere; the digital transformation, with Artificial Intelligence (AI), satellite remote sensing, quantum computing, and precision agriculture; synthetic biology, including biotechnology and genetic and molecular engineering, by redesigning and using organisms to solve problems in medicine, manufacturing and agriculture; mechanical engineering, like robotics and also nanotechnology. Their development, as embedded in the larger social-ecological systems, should be connected to and become part of ways forward when designing transformative pathways towards sustainability within planetary boundaries.

As human pressures on the biosphere increase, so does the hope that rapid advances in AI (including automated decision making, data mining, and predictive analytics) in combination with rapid progresses in sensor technology and robotics, will be able to increase society’s capacities to detect, adapt, and respond to climate and environmental change without creating new vulnerabilities (Joppa 2017). Such technologies are applied in a number of research fields related to the environment and climate change, including environmental monitoring, conservation, and “green” urban planning (Hino et al. 2018; Ilieva and McPhearson 2018; Wearn et al. 2019; Reichstein et al. 2019). While nascent in terms of both scale and impact, such technological “niche-innovations” have the potential to rapidly upscale and shape ecosystems and institutions in multiple geographies (Geels et al. 2017). Such innovations have been claimed to be central for a “digital revolution for sustainable development” (Sachs et al. 2019).

Applications of these technologies have effects that span beyond climate and environmental research and monitoring, and more efficient natural resource use. AI-supported recommender systems as an example, influence consumer choices already today (André et al. 2018). Targeted attacks in social media by social bots, applications of computer algorithms that automatically produce content and interact with humans on social media, “trying to emulate and possibly alter their behavior” (Ferrara et al. 2016; Grinberg et al. 2019), also influence conversations in social media about climate and environmental issues and affect institutions for deliberative democracy (Dryzek et al. 2019).

So far, the technological changes to our social systems have not come about with the purpose of promoting global sustainability (van der Leeuw 2019). This remains true of recent and emerging technologies, such as online social media and information technology, causing changes that are increasingly far-reaching, ambiguous, and largely unregulated (Del Vicario et al. 2016). For example, “online social networks are highly dynamic systems that change as a result of numerous feedbacks between people and machines”. Algorithms suggest connections, to which users respond, and the algorithms, trained to optimize user experience, adapt to the responses. “Together, these interactions and processes alter what information people see and how they view the world” (Bergstrom and Bak-Coleman 2019).

Hence, applications of novel technologies stemming from advancements in AI could at best be benevolent and lead to improved stewardship of landscapes, seascapes, water, or climate dynamics, through improved monitoring and interventions, as well as more effective resource use (Chaplin-Kramer et al. 2019). Negative impacts of novel technologies on vulnerable groups (Barocas et al. 2017) are also pertinent since they diffuse rapidly into society, or when used in sectors with clear impacts on the climate, or on land and ocean ecosystems. This issue needs to be taken seriously as technological changes influence decisions with very long-term climatic and biosphere consequences (Cave and Óhéigeartaigh 2019).

Social media and social change

The participatory nature of social media gives it a central role in shaping individual attitudes, feelings, and behaviours (Williams et al. 2015; Lazer et al. 2018), can underpin large social mobilization and protests (Steinert-Threlkeld et al. 2015), and influence social norms and policy making (Barbier et al. 2018; Stewart et al. 2019). It is well known that dire warnings can lead to disconnect of the audience if it is not accompanied by a feasible perspective for action (Weber 2015). Social media changes our perception of the world, by promoting a sense of crisis and unfairness. This happens as activist groups seek to muster support (Gerbaudo and Treré 2015) and lifestyle movements seek to inspire alternative choices (Haenfler et al. 2012). For instance, social media catalysed the Arab spring among other things by depicting atrocities of the regime (Breuer et al. 2015), and veganism is promoted by social media campaigns highlighting appalling animal welfare issues (Haenfler et al. 2012).

On the worrying side, isolationism stimulated by social-media-boosted discontent may hamper global cooperation needed to curb global warming, biodiversity loss, wealth concentration, and other trends. On the other hand, social media has powered movements such as school strikes, extinction rebellion, voluntary simplicity, bartering, flight shame, the eat-local movement and veganism to promote a steadily rising global awareness of pressing issues that may ultimately shift social norms (Nyborg et al. 2016), trigger reforms towards sustainability (Otto et al. 2020) and perhaps also towards wealth equalization at all institutional levels (Scheffer et al. 2017).

The combination of discontent and self-organization not only promotes rebellion against the old way of doing things, as in street protests, populist votes, radicalization, and terrorism, but also catalyses the search for alternative ways, as in bartering and sharing platforms, or voluntary simplicity and other lifestyle movements (Haenfler et al. 2012; Carpenter et al. 2019).

The rise of social media and technologies such as bots and profiling has been explosive, and the mere rate of change has made it difficult for society to keep pace (Haenfler et al. 2012). Crowd-sourced fact checking may be combined with computer-assisted analyses and judgements from professionals (Hassan et al. 2019), and labelling quality of media sources ranging from internet fora to newspapers and television stations may alert users to the risk of disinformation and heavy political bias (Pennycook and Rand 2019). With time, such approaches together with legislation, best-practice agreements, and individual skills of judging the quality of sources may catch up to control some of the negative side-effects (Walter et al. 2019).

The emerging picture is that social media have become a global catalyst for social change by facilitating shifts on scales ranging from individual attitudes to broad social norms and institutions. It remains unclear, however, whether this new “invisible hand” will move the world on more sustainable and just pathways. Can the global, fast moving capacity for information sharing and knowledge generation through social media help lead us towards a just world where future generations thrive within the limits of our planet’s capacity?

Social innovation and transformation

Transformations towards sustainability in the Anthropocene cannot be achieved by adaptation alone, and certainly not by incremental change only, but rather that more fundamental systemic transformations will be needed (Hackmann and St. Clair 2012; Kates et al. 2012; O’Brien 2012). Transformation implies fundamentally rewiring the system, its structure, functions, feedbacks, and properties (Reyers et al. 2018). But, despite such changes, there is hope for systemic transformations with dignity, respect and in democratic fashions (Olsson et al. 2017), in contrast to large-scale disruptive or revolutionary societal transformations like those of earlier civilizations (van der Leeuw 2019). It will require trust building, cooperation, collective action, and flexible institutions (Ostrom 2010; Westley et al. 2011).

A characteristic feature of transformations is that change across different system states (trajectories or pathways) is not predetermined but rather emerges through diverse interactions across scales and among diverse actors (Westley et al. 2011). Therefore, the literature on transformations towards sustainability emphasize framing and navigating transformations rather than controlling those. Work on socio-technical sustainability transitions, social-ecological transformations, and social innovation provide insights into these dynamics (Geels et al. 2017; Olsson et al. 2017; Westley et al. 2017).

These literatures have illustrated the importance of connectivity and cross-level interactions for understanding the role of technological and social innovation and transformative systemic change. The work emphasizes the importance of fostering diverse forms of novelty and innovations at the micro-level, supported by the creation of “transformative spaces”, shielded from the forces of dominant system structures. These allow for experimentation with new mental models, ideas, and practices that could help shift societies onto more desirable pathways (Loorbach et al. 2017; Pereira et al. 2018ab). The examples of the “Seeds of a Good Anthropocene” project reflect ongoing local experiments that, under the right conditions, could accelerate the adoption of pathways to transformative change (Bennett et al. 2016). As multiple demands and stressors degrade the ocean, transformative change in ocean governance seems required, shifting current economic and social systems towards ocean stewardship, e.g. through incorporation of niche innovations within and across economic sectors and stakeholder communities (Brodie Rudolph et al. 2020).

It has been shown that real-world transformations come about through the alignment of mutually reinforcing processes within and between multiple levels. For example, the alignment of “niche innovations” or “shadow networks’ (which differ radically from the dominant existing system but have been able to gain a foothold in particular market niches or geographical areas) with change at broader levels and scales can create rapid change. Both slow moving trends (e.g., demographics, ideologies, accumulation of GHG) and sudden shocks (e.g. elections, economic crises, pandemics, extreme events) can start to weaken or disturb the existing social-ecological system and create windows-of-opportunity for niche innovations—new practices, governance systems, value orientations—to become rapidly dominant (Olsson et al. 20042006; Chaffin and Gunderson 2016; Geels et al. 2017) (Fig. 9).

figure 9
Fig. 9

Hence, turbulent times may unlock gridlocks and traps and open up space for innovation and novelty (Gunderson and Holling 2002). Crises or anticipated risks can trigger people to experiment with new practices and alternative governance modes and key individuals, often referred to as policy, institutional or moral entrepreneurs, mobilize and combine social networks in new ways, preparing the system for change (Folke et al. 2005; Westley et al. 2013; O’Brien 2015). The preparation phase seems particularly important in building capacity to transform rather than simply returning to the status quo and reinforcing existing power structures following change. Bridging organizations tend to emerge, within or with new institutions, connecting governance levels and spatial and temporal scales (Cash et al. 2006; Hahn et al. 2006; Brondizio et al. 2009; Rathwell and Peterson 2012). In several cases, the broader social contexts provide an enabling environment for such emergence, for example, through various incentive structures or legal frameworks. When a window opens, there is skilful navigation of change past thresholds or tipping points and, thereafter, a focus on building resilience of the transformed system (Gelcich et al. 2010).

In general, the resulting transformation goes beyond the adoption of a new technology or a local social innovation alone. Instead it includes a portfolio of actions like investment in new infrastructures, establishment of new markets, changes in incentives, development of new social preferences, or adjustment of user practices. Furthermore, transformations gain momentum when multiple innovations are linked together, improving the functionality of each and acting in combination to reconfigure systems (Geels et al. 2017; Westley et al. 2017).

Successful social innovations are recognized by their capacity to radically shift broad social institutions (economies, political philosophies, laws, practices, and cultural beliefs) that provide structure to social life. In addition, social innovations seldom unfold in a deterministic manner, but with a kind of punctuated equilibrium, first languishing and then accelerating at times of opportunity or crisis. There is also the need for awareness of the shadow side of all innovation, the consequences of intervention in a complex system (Holling et al. 1998; Ostrom 2007). This is unavoidable but manageable if caught early, but needs attention, particularly in times of rapid change (Westley et al. 2017).

Social innovation is currently underway in many domains linked to climate change, like renewable energy (Geels et al. 2017) or agriculture (Pigford et al. 2018) and highlight the importance of innovations not only in science and technology, but also in institutions, politics, and social goals for sustainability. Substantial attention is also directed towards sustainability of the ocean, where policy makers, industries, and other stakeholders are increasingly engaged in collaboration (Österblom et al. 2017; Brodie Rudolf et al. 2020; UNGC 2020) and innovations (McCauley et al. 2016; Blasiak et al. 2018; Costello et al. 2020), aimed to create new incentives (Lubchenco et al. 2016; Jouffray et al. 2019; Sumaila et al. 2020) for action. However, for these to have transformative impact, shifts in cultural repertoires (schemas, frames, narratives, scripts, and boundaries that actors draw on in social situations) (Lamont et al. 2017) similar to those that accelerated the anti-smoking movement and the LGBTQ movement need to occur (Marshall et al. 2012; Moore et al. 2015; Nyborg et al. 2016).

There are suggestions for social tipping interventions to activate large-scale systemic shifts through, for example, rapidly spreading of technologies, shifts in social norms and behaviors, or structural reorganization of sectors, corporations, and societies (Folke et al. 2019; Otto et al. 2020). There are signs that such shifts are underway in western cultures, a desire for fundamental change towards a more sustainable way of life (Wibeck et al. 2019) aided by social movements such as the youth-led Extinction Rebellion, as well as a strong move to more healthy and sustainable diets (Willet et al. 2019). Again, all these changes unfold as part of cultural evolution, which needs attention as urgently as the decarbonization of our economy (Waring et al. 2015; Creanza et al. 2017; Jörgensen et al. 2019).

Narratives of action for the future

Social innovation and transformation require an individual and collective attention on the future. There are many documented obstacles to such future focus, from cognitive myopia to present-biased individual and institutional incentives and norms (Weber and Johnson 2016; Weber 20172020). Choice architecture provides tools that reduce status-quo bias and encourage more foresightful decisions in specific circumstances (Yoeli et al. 2017), but rapid and systemic change will require more fundamental shifts in narratives at a collective level (Lubchenco and Gaines 2019).

Narratives are ways of presenting or understanding a situation or series of events that reflects and promotes a particular point of view or set of values. Narratives can serve as meaning‐making devices, provide actors with confidence to act and coordinate action. They are of significance in shaping and anchoring worldviews, identities, and social interactions (van der Leeuw 2020).

Narratives of hope have proven essential for social resilience (Lamont 2019). Social resilience refers to the capacity of individuals, groups, communities, and nations “to secure favourable outcomes (material, symbolic, emotional) under new circumstances and when necessary by new means, even when this entails significant modifications to behaviour or to the social frameworks that structure and give meaning to behaviour” (Hall and Lamont 2012).

Transforming towards sustainable futures will require broadening cultural membership by promoting new narratives that resonate, inspire, and provide hope centred on a plurality of criteria of worth and social inclusion. Here, we are concerned with the challenge of motivating a collective recognition of our interdependence with the biosphere (Schill et al. 2019) and economic and political action based on that recognition.

Collective conceptions of the future have many aspects. They include (1) whether the future is conceived as near or far and is understood in terms of long, medium and short-term rewards; (2) what is likely and possible and how contingent these outcomes are; (3) whether the future will be good or bad; (4) how much agency individuals have on various aspects of their individual and collective future (concerning for instance, politics, societal orientation, personal and professional life; (5) who can influence the collective future (e.g., the role of the state policies and various societal forces in shaping them); (6) whether the future is conceived as a cyclical or as a linear progression; (7) how stable peoples’ conceptions of the future are and how they are influenced by events (terrorist attacks, recessions, pandemics); and (8) whether aspirations are concealed or made public.

Behind these various issues, one finds other basic conceptions about agency (to what extent are individuals master of their fate), the impact of networks (to what extent is fate influenced by peers, family, and others), the impact of social structure (what is the impact of class, race, gender, place of origin) on where we end up, and how much does our environment (segregation, resource availability, environmental conditions) influence our opportunities. Therefore, it is important to remember that, although individuals play essential roles in narratives of hope, such images of the future are seldom creations of individuals alone but shaped by many cultural intermediaries working in the media, in education, in politics, in social movements, and in other institutions.

Cultural scripts represent commonly held assumptions about social interaction, which serve as a kind of interpretive background against which individuals position their own acts and those of others (Lamont et al. 2017). Narratives of hope as cultural scripts are more likely to become widely shared if they offer possible course of action, something that reasonable people can aspire to. Such sharing bolsters people’s sense of agency, the perception that they can have an impact on the world and on their own lives that they can actually achieve what is offered to them (Lamont et al. 2017). In contrast to doomsday or climate-denying narratives, these scripts feed a sense of active agency. Such “fictional expectations”, anchored in narratives that are continually adapted, are at the core of market dynamics confronted with an uncertain future affecting money and credit, investment, innovation, and consumption (Beckert 2016).

Narratives of hope represent ideas about “imagined futures” or alternative ways of visualizing and conceptualizing what has yet to happen and motivate action towards new development pathways (Moore and Milkoreit 2020). As they circulate and become more widely shared, such imagined futures have the potential to foster predictable behaviours, and stimulate the emergence of institutions, investments, new laws, and regulations. Therefore, decisions under uncertainty are not only technical problems easily dealt with by rational calculation but are also a function of the creative elements of decision‐making (Beckert 2016).

There is a rich literature on scenarios for sustainable futures, narratives articulating multiple alternative futures in relation to critical uncertainties, increasingly emphasizing new forms of governance, technology as a bridge between people and the deep reconnection of humanity to the biosphere, and engaging diverse stakeholder in participatory processes as part of the scenario work (Carpenter et al. 2006; Bennett et al. 2016). The implication of inherent unpredictability is that transformations towards sustainable and just futures can realistically be pursued only through strategies that not only attend to the dynamics of the system, but also nurture our collective capacity to guide development pathways in a dynamic, adaptive, and reflexive manner (Clark and Harley 2020; Freeman et al. 2020). Rather than striving to attain some particular future it calls for a system of guided self-organization. It involves anticipating and imagining futures and behaving and acting on those in a manner that does not lead to loss of opportunities to live with changing circumstances, or even better enhances those opportunities, i.e. builds resilience for complexity and change (Berkes et al. 2003).

In order to better understand the complex dynamics of the Anthropocene and uncertain futures, work is now emerging on human behaviour as part of complex adaptive systems (Levin et al. 2013), like anticipatory behaviour (using the future in actual decision processes), or capturing behaviour as both “enculturated” and “enearthed“ and co-evolving with socio-cultural and biophysical contexts (Boyd et al. 2015; Waring et al. 2015; Poli 2017; Merçon et al. 2019; Schill et al. 2019; Schlüter et al. 2019; Haider et al. 2021), illustrating that cultural transmission and evolution can be both continuous and abrupt (Creanza et al. 2017).

Narratives of hope for transformations towards sustainable futures are in demand. Clearly, technological change plays a central role in any societal transformation. Technological change has been instrumental in globalization and will be instrumental for global sustainability. No doubt, the new era of technological breakthroughs will radically change the structure and operation of societies and cultures. But, as has been made clear here, the recipe for sustainable futures also concerns cultural transformations that guide technological change in support of a resilient biosphere; that reconnect development to the biosphere foundation.

Biosphere stewardship for prosperity

Transformation towards sustainability in the Anthropocene has at least three systemic dimensions. First, it involves a shift in human behaviour away from degrading the life-support foundation of societal development. Second, it requires management and governance of human actions as intertwined and embedded within the biosphere and the broader Earth system. Third, it involves enhancing the capacity to live and develop with change, in the face of complexity and true uncertainty, that is, resilience-building strategies to persist, adapt, or transform. For major pathways for such a transformation are presented below:

  1. 1.Recognize and act on the fact that societal development is embedded in and critically dependent on the biosphere and the broader Earth system for prosperity and wellbeing.
  2. 2.Create incentives and design policies that enable societies to collaborate towards just and sustainable futures within planetary boundaries.
  3. 3.Transform the current pathways of social, economic, cultural development into stewardship of human actions that enhance the resilience of the biosphere.
  4. 4.Make active use of emerging and converging technologies for enabling the societal stewardship transformation.

Biosphere stewardship incorporates economic, social, and cultural dimensions with the purpose of safeguarding the resilience of the biosphere for human wellbeing and fostering the sustainability of a rapidly changing planet. Stewardship is an active shaping of social-ecological change that integrates reducing vulnerability to expected changes, fostering resilience to sustain desirable conditions in the face of the unknown and unexpected, and transforming from undesirable pathways of development when opportunities emerge (Chapin et al. 2010). It involves caring for, looking after, and cultivating a sense of belonging in the biosphere, ranging from people and environments locally to the planet as a whole (Enqvist et al. 2018; Chapin 2020; Plummer et al. 2020).

Such stewardship is not a top-down approach forced on people, nor solely a bottom-up approach. It is a learning-based process with a clear direction, a clear vision, engaging people to collaborate and innovate across levels and scales as integral parts of the systems they govern (Tengö et al. 2014; Clark et al. 2016; Norström et al. 2020).

Here, we focus on biosphere stewardship in relation to climate change, biodiversity, and transformations for sustainable futures.Show more

From emission reductions alone to biosphere stewardship

Global sustainability involves shifting into a renewable energy-based economy of low waste and greater circularity within a broader value foundation. Market-driven progress combined with technological change certainly plays an important role in dematerialization (Schmidheiny 1992; McAfee 2019) but does not automatically redirect the economy towards sustainable futures. Public awareness, responsible governments, and international collaborations are needed for viable economic developments, acknowledging that people, nations, and the global economy are intertwined with the biosphere and a global force in shaping its dynamics.

Since climate change is not an isolated phenomenon but a consequence of the recent accelerating expansion of human activities on Earth, the needed changes concern social organization and dynamics influencing the emissions of greenhouse gases from burning fossil fuels, technologies, and policies for reducing such emissions, and various approaches for carbon capture and storage. However, to reduce the effects of climate change, it will not be sufficient to remove emissions only. The resilience of the biosphere and the Earth system needs to be regenerated and enhanced (Nyström et al. 2019). This includes governance of critical biosphere processes linked to climate change, such as in agriculture, forestry, and the ocean. In addition, guarding and enhancing biodiversity will help us live with climate change, mitigating climate change by storing and sequestering carbon in ecosystems, and building resilience and adaptive capacity to the inevitable effects of unavoidable climate change (Dasgupta 2021).

The global pandemic caused a sharp fall in CO2 emissions in 2020 (Le Quéré et al. 2020), while the cumulative emissions continue to rise (Friedlingstein et al. 2020). The fall was not caused by a long-term structural economic shift so it is unlikely to persist without strong government intervention. Political action is emerging from major nations and regions and on net-zero GHG emissions within decades. Shifts towards renewable energy are taking place in diverse sectors. Carbon pricing through taxes, tariffs, tradeable permits, as well as removal of fossil-fuel subsidies and incentives for renewable energy and carbon sequestration (e.g. CCS techniques) are on the table and increasingly implemented. There are substantial material and emission gains to be made from altered consumption patterns, infrastructure changes, and shifts towards a circular economy. Voluntary climate action among some large corporations is emerging (Vandenbergh and Gilligan 2017). There is general agreement that the pace of these promising changes must rapidly increase in order to meet the Paris climate target (Fig. 10).

figure 10
Fig. 10

In addition, active biosphere stewardship of critical tipping elements and carbon sinks, as in forests, agricultural land, savannas, wetlands, and marine ecosystems is crucial to avoid the risk of runaway climate change (Steffen et al. 2018). Such stewardship involves protecting, sustaining, restoring, and enhancing such sinks. The existence of connections between finance actors, capital markets, and the tipping elements of tropical and boreal forests has also gained attention and needs to be acted upon in policy and practice (Galaz et al. 2018).

Furthermore, ecosystem restoration has the potential to sequester large amounts of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. The amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere derived from destroyed and degraded land is roughly equal to the carbon that remains in ecosystems on land (about 450 billion tonnes of carbon) (Erb et al. 2018). The amount of degraded lands in the world is vast, and restoring their productivity, biodiversity, and ecosystem services could help keep global temperature increases within acceptable levels (Lovejoy and Hannah 2018). It has been estimated that nature-based solutions on land (from agriculture to reforestation and afforestation) have the potential to provide over 30% of the emission reductions needed by 2050 to keep global temperature increases to not more than 2 °C (Griscom et al. 2017; Roe et al. 2019).

There is scope for new policies and practices for nature-based solutions (Kremen and Merenlender 2018; Diaz et al. 2018). These solutions will require shifts in governance towards active stewardship of water and ecosystem dynamics and processes across landscapes, precipitation sheds, and seascapes (Österblom et al. 2017; Plummer et al. 2020), reconfiguring nation state governance, empowering the commons through justice, equity and knowledge, and making ownership regenerative by integrating rights with responsibilities (Brodie Rudolph et al. 2020). Also, the so-called “social tipping interventions” towards biosphere stewardship have the potential to activate contagious processes of rapidly spreading technologies, behaviors, social norms, and structural reorganization, where current patterns can be disrupted and lead to fast reduction in anthropogenic greenhouse gas emissions (Otto et al. 2020). The window of opportunity for such shifts may emerge in times of turbulence and social discontent with the status quo (Carpenter et al. 2019). Creating conditions for processes of deliberate democracy may guide such transformative change (Dryzek et al. 2019).

Resilience and biosphere stewardship

Societal development needs to strengthen biosphere capacity for dealing with extreme events, both climate driven and as a consequence of a tightly coupled and complex globalized world in deep interplay with the rest of the biosphere (Helbing 2013; Reyers et al. 2018). For example, the challenge of policy and practice in satisfying demands for food, water and other critical ecosystem services will most likely be set by the potential consequences of the emergent risk panorama and its consequences, rather than hard upper limits to production per se (Cottrell et al. 2019; Nyström et al. 2019; Xu et al. 2020).

In this sense, a resilience approach to biosphere stewardship becomes significant. Such an approach is very different from those who understand resilience as return to the status quo, to recover to business-as-usual. Resilience in relation to stewardship of complex adaptive systems concerns capacities to live with changing circumstances, slow or abrupt, predictable or surprising. It becomes especially relevant for dealing with the uncertain and unknown and is in stark contrast to strategies that support efficiency and effectiveness for short term gain at the expense of redundancy and diversity. Such strategies may work under relatively stable and predictable conditions but, as stressed here, will create vulnerability in periods of rapid change, during turbulent times, and are ill-suited to confront the unknown (Carpenter et al. 2009; Walker et al. 2009). Financial crises and pandemics serve as real-world examples of such vulnerabilities and make explicit the tension between connectivity and modularity in complex adaptive systems (Levin 1999).

In contrast, intertwined systems of people and nature characterized by resilience will have the capacity, whether through strategies like portfolio management, polycentric institutions, or building trust and nurturing diversity (Costanza et al. 2000; Ostrom 2010; Biggs et al. 2012; Carpenter et al. 2012), to confront turbulent times and the unknown. Policy decisions will no longer be the result of optimization algorithms that presuppose quantifiable uncertainty, but employ decision-making procedures that iteratively identify policy options most robust to present and future shocks under conditions of deep uncertainty (Polasky et al. 2011). Resilience provides capacities for novelty and innovation in times of change, to turn crises into opportunities for not only adapting, but also transforming into sustainable futures (Folke et al. 2016).

The immediate future will require capacities to confront challenges that we know we know little about (Kates and Clark 1996). Given the global connectivity of environmental, social, and economic systems, there is no scale at which resource pooling or trade can be used to hedge against all fluctuations at smaller scales. This begs the question of what types of investments may lead to a generalized capacity to develop with a wide range of potential and unknown events (Polasky et al. 2011). One strategy is to invest in global public goods common to all systems, e.g., education, capacity to learn and collaborate across sectors, multi-scale governance structures that enable systems to better detect changes and nimbly address problems by reconfiguring themselves through transformative change. Such strategies, often referred to as building “general resilience”, easily erode if not actively supported (Biggs et al. 2012; Carpenter et al. 2012; Quinlan et al. 2015). General resilience is critical for keeping options alive to face an uncertain turbulent world (Walker et al. 2009; Elmqvist et al. 2019).

Collaborating with the biosphere

Clearly, a shift in perspective and action is needed (Fig. 11) that includes extending management and governance from the focus on producing food, fibre, and timber in simplified ecosystems to rebuilding and strengthening resilience through investing in portfolios of ecosystem services for human wellbeing in diversity-rich social-ecological systems (Reyers et al. 2013; Bennett et al. 2015; Isbell et al. 2017).

figure 11
Fig. 11

Numerous activities protecting, restoring, and enhancing diversity are taking place in this direction ranging from traditional societies, local stewards of wildlife habitats, marine systems, and urban areas, to numerous NGOs, companies and enterprises, and various levels of government, to international collaborations, agreements, and conventions (Barthel et al. 2005; Forbes et al. 2009; Raymond et al. 2010; Andersson et al. 2014; Barrett 2016; Brondizio and Le Tourneau 2016; Österblom et al. 2017; Barbier et al. 2018; Bennett et al. 2018).

Examples include widespread use of marine protected areas from local places to marine spatial planning to proposals for protecting the open ocean, enhancing marine biodiversity, rebuilding fisheries, mitigating climate change, and shifting towards ocean stewardship (Worm et al. 2009; Sumaila et al. 2015; Lubchenco and Grorud-Colvert 2015; Lubchenco et al. 2016; Sala et al. 2016; Gaines et al. 2018; Tittensor et al. 2019; Cinner et al. 2020; Duarte et al. 2020; Brodie Rudolph et al. 2020). The latter is the focus of the High Level Panel for a Sustainable Ocean Economy, with 14 heads of state and more than 250 scientists engaged. They aim to stimulate transformative change for the ocean by committing to sustainably managing 100% of their own waters by 2030 (Stuchtey et al. 2020).

There are major restoration programmes of forests, wetlands, and abandoned and degraded lands and even revival of wildlife and rewilding of nature (Perino et al. 2019). Other efforts include “working-lands conservation” like agroforestry, silvopasture, diversified farming, and ecosystem-based forest management, enhancing livelihoods and food security (Kremen and Merenlender 2018).

The world’s ecosystems can be seen as essential capital assets, if well managed, their lands, waters, and biodiversity yield a flow of vital life-support services (Daily et al. 2009). Investing in natural capital has become a core strategy of agencies and major nations, like China, for wellbeing and sustainability, providing greater resilience to climate change (Guerry et al. 2015; Ouyang et al. 2016). It involves combining science, technology, and partnerships to develop nature-based solutions and enable informed decisions for people and nature to thrive and invest in green growth (Mandle et al. 2019).

There are several examples of adaptive management and adaptive governance systems that have transformed social-ecological dynamics of landscapes and seascapes into biosphere stewardship (Chaffin et al. 2014; Schultz et al. 2015; Walker 2019; Plummer et al. 2020). Stewardship of diversity as a critical feature in resilience building is about reducing vulnerability to change and multiplying the portfolio of options for sustainable development in times of change. Stewardship shifts focus from commodity to redundancy to response diversity for dealing with change (Elmqvist et al. 2003; Grêt-Regamey et al. 2019; Dasgupta 2021).

Clearly, the economic contributions of biodiversity are highly significant as reflected in the many efforts to expose and capture economic values of biodiversity and ecosystem services (Daily et al. 2000; Sukhdev et al. 2010; Kinzig et al. 2011; Costanza et al. 2014; Naeem et al. 2015; Barbier et al. 2018; Dasgupta 2021). Inclusive (or genuine) wealth aims at capturing the aggregate value of natural, human, and social capital assets to provide a comprehensive, long-term foundation for human wellbeing (Dasgupta and Mäler 2000; Polasky et al. 2015). Inclusive wealth provides a basis for designing incentives for more sustainable market transactions (Dasgupta 2014; Clark and Harley 2020).

Also, the role of the cultural context is fundamental (Diaz et al. 2018) and biocultural diversity, and coevolution of people and nature is gaining ground as a means to understand dynamically changing social-ecological relations (Barthel et al. 2013; Merçon et al. 2019; Haider et al. 2019). Broad coalitions among citizens, businesses, nonprofits, and government agencies have the power to transform how we view and act on biosphere stewardship and build Earth resilience. Science has an important new role to play here as honest broker, engaging in evidence-informed action, and coproduction of knowledge in collaboration with practice, policy, and business (Reyers et al. 2015; Wyborn et al. 2019; Norström et al. 2020).

In this context, work identifying leverage points for anticipated and deliberate transformational change towards sustainability is gaining ground, centred on reconnecting people to nature, restructuring power and institutions, and rethinking how knowledge is created and used in pursuit of sustainability (Abson et al. 2017; Fischer and Riechers 2019). Such actions range from direct engagements between scientists and local communities (Tengö et al. 2014) or through the delivery of scientific knowledge and method into multi-stakeholder arenas, such as boundary or bridging organizations (Cash et al. 2003; Hahn et al. 2006; Crona and Parker 2012) where it can provide a basis for learning and be translated into international negotiations (Biermann and Pattberg 2008; Galaz et al. 2016; Tengö et al. 2017). It includes efforts to accelerate positive transformations by identifying powerful actors, like financial investors or transnational corporations, and articulating key domains with which these actors need to engage in order to enable biosphere stewardship (Österblom et al. 2017; Galaz et al. 2018; Folke et al. 2019; Jouffray et al. 2019). The International science-policy platform for biodiversity and ecosystem services (IPBES), an international body for biodiversity similar to the IPCC for the climate, has proposed key features for enabling transformational change (Fig. 12). These efforts serve an increasingly important space for scientists to engage in, helping hold corporations accountable, stimulating them to take on responsibility for the planet and develop leadership in sustainability. Such science-business engagement will become increasingly important to ensure that companies’ sustainability agendas are framed by science rather than the private sector alone (Österblom et al. 2015; Barbier et al. 2018; Blasiak et al. 2018; Galaz et al. 2018; Folke et al. 2019; Jouffray et al. 2019).

figure 12
Fig. 12

The rapid acceleration of current Earth system changes provides new motivations for action. Climate change is no longer a vague threat to some distant future generation but an environmental, economic, and social disruption that today’s youth, communities, corporations, and governments are increasingly experiencing. This provides both ethical and selfish motivations for individuals and institutions to launch transformative actions that shape their futures rather than simply reacting to crises as they emerge. Shaping the future requires active stewardship for regenerating and strengthening the resilience of the biosphere.

Given the urgency of the situation and the critical challenge of stabilizing the Earth system in Holocene-like conditions, the pace of current actions has to rapidly increase and expand to support a transformation towards active stewardship of human actions in concert with the biosphere foundation. It will require reform of critical social, economic, political, and cultural dimensions (Tallis et al. 2018; Diaz et al. 2018; Barrett et al. 2020).

Concluding remarks

The success of social organization into civilizations and more recently into a globalized world has been impressive and highly efficient. It has been supported by a resilient biosphere and a hospitable climate. Now, in the Anthropocene, a continuous expansion mimicking the development pathways of the past century is not a viable option for shifting towards sustainable futures.

Humanity is embedded within, intertwined with, and dependent upon the living biosphere. Humanity has become a global force shaping the operation and future of the biosphere and the broader Earth system. Climate change and loss of biodiversity are symptoms of the situation. The accelerating expansion of human activities has eroded biosphere and Earth system resilience and is now challenging human wellbeing, prosperity, and possibly even the persistence of societies and civilizations.

The expansion has led to hyper-connectivity, homogenization, and vulnerability in times of change, in contrast to modularity, redundancy, and resilience to be able to live with changing circumstances. In the Anthropocene, humanity is confronted with turbulent times and with new intertwined dynamics of people and planet where fast and slow change interplay in unexperienced and unpredictable ways. This is becoming the new normal.

Our future on our planet will be determined by our ability to keep global warming well below 2 °C and foster the resilience of the living biosphere. A pervasive thread in science is that building resilient societies, ecosystems, and ultimately the health of the entire Earth system hinges on supporting, restoring and regenerating diversity in intertwined social and ecological dimensions. Diversity builds insurance and keeps systems resilient to changing circumstances. Clearly, nurturing resilience is of great significance in transformations towards sustainability and requires collective action on multiple fronts, action that is already being tested by increasing turbulence incurred by seemingly unrelated shocks.

Equality holds communities together, and enables nations, and regions to evolve along sustainable development trajectories. Inequality, in terms of both social and natural capitals, are on the rise in the world, and need to be addressed as an integral part of our future on Earth.

We are facing a rapid and significant repositioning of sustainability as the lens through which innovation, technology and development is driven and achieved. What only a few years ago was seen as a sacrifice is today creating new purposes and meanings, shaping values and culture, and is increasingly seen as a pathway to novelty, competitiveness and progress.

This is a time when science is needed more than ever. Science provides informed consensus on the facts and trade-offs in times of misinformation and polemics. The planetary challenges that confront humanity need governance that mobilizes the best that science has to offer with shared visions for sustainable futures and political will and competence to implement choices that will sustain humanity and the rest of the living world for the next millennium and beyond.

There is scope for changing the course of history into sustainable pathways. There is urgent need for people, economies, societies and cultures to actively start governing nature’s contributions to wellbeing and building a resilient biosphere for future generations. It is high time to reconnect development to the Earth system foundation through active stewardship of human actions into prosperous futures within planetary boundaries.

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