COP30 in Belém: a summit in search of credibility

Monica Piccinini

14 November 2025

As COP30 begins in Belém, the world once again gathers promising salvation, a solution to the climate crisis. Global leaders fly in and meet under the canopy of the Amazon rainforest, pledging ambition, justice and preservation.

Brazil’s president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva stands before the cameras proclaiming his nation’s leadership in the global climate fight, but his rhetoric seems to be out of sync with reality.

The Brazilian government that now dress itself in the language of sustainability is the same one advancing laws, projects, and extractive industries that endanger the very forest it claims to protect.

The Amazon is under threat not only from loggers and illegal miners, it’s under threat from the country’s own government, which hosts a climate summit even as it opens new oil frontiers, weakens Indigenous land protections and fast tracks eco-destructive licences.

Smoke and mirrors

While diplomats sip açaí smoothies in Belém, fires, deforestation, and degradation continue to rage across the Amazon.

In late 2023, the capital of Amazonas, Manaus, disappeared beneath a suffocating dark cloud of smoke. Residents awoke to grey skies and the taste of burning forests in their mouths. Masks were no longer a protection from a virus; they were shields against the very air they needed to survive.

Air monitors registered PM2.5 levels twenty times the World Health Organisation’s limit. This is the Amazon speaking, and it was screaming.

The fires trace a very familiar path: the BR-319 highway, once abandoned, now being revived under Lula’s government, carving through the rainforest like a knife. Bulldozers are cutting a corridor of destruction through one of the most intact parts of the rainforest, opening it to cattle ranching, land grabbing, organised crime, illegal and legal mining, fire, and possibly new pandemics.

Brazil is moving backward while promising climate leadership, it’s heading in the opposite direction of its commitments for COP30, says Lucas Ferrante, researcher at the University of São Paulo (USP).

Deforestation and degradation are already seen around BR-319. If the highway is rebuilt, it could set off an irreversible chain reaction that will devastate the Amazon, harm Indigenous communities, and accelerate climate change beyond control, he added

Cássio Cardoso Pereira, ecologist and editor of the BioScience journal, said:

While deforestation grabs headlines, the deeper crisis of forest degradation continues unchecked. And now, reckless projects, including the BR-319 highway, the Ferrogrão railroad, and the disastrous proposal to drill for oil at the mouth of the Amazon, push the rainforest closer to collapse.

Drill, drill, drill

One of the most striking contradictions is Brazil’s approval of oil exploration at the mouth of the Amazon River, on the so-called Brazilian equatorial margin.

Despite global calls to phase out fossil fuels, state-owned giant Petrobras received environmental authorisation from Brazil’s environmental agency, Ibama, to drill an exploratory well in Block 59, about 500 km from the river’s mouth, in an area home to sensitive ecosystems, including the Great Amazon Reef System, and mangroves. Environmentalists warn about the risks of such project and the tragic consequences of an oil spill.

How can a country host a summit on climate action while expanding oil extraction in one of the world’s most biodiverse and climate-sensitive regions?

The contradiction is so glaring it almost seems deliberate, a reminder that climate diplomacy too often serves the optics of progress, it signals that the summit may serve branding more than change.

The battle over Indigenous land

Brazil’s climate narrative also collapses when it comes to Indigenous rights.

The controversial “marco temporal” or “time frame”, a legislation backed by the agribusiness lobby (“ruralistas”), claims that Indigenous peoples can only claim land they physically occupied on 5 October 1988, the date when Brazil’s constitution came into force.

Entire Indigenous communities displaced before that date would lose their rights to ancestral territories.

Though Brazil’s supreme court struck the bill down in 2023, congress soon passed Law 14.701/2023 to reimpose it, a legislative deceptiveness that undermines constitutional justice.

For those who live by the forest, the stakes are existential.

UN experts have warned that the law could invalidate hundreds of land demarcations and accelerate deforestation. Yet, at COP30 Indigenous delegates will likely appear on governmental panels, their presence used as proof of inclusion, even as their land rights are being eroded at home.

Deregulation

As if this weren’t enough, in July 2025, Brazil’s congress passed the so-called “devastation bill”, officially bill 2159/2021. This legislation radically loosens environmental licencing rules, allowing many projects to proceed under weaker impact assessments, sidestepping oversight, and handing more authority to states and municipalities.

Human rights groups have warned that the bill puts people and the planet at risk by weakening protections related to Indigenous and Quilombola communities.

Although President Lula vetoed or amended 63 of the bill’s nearly 400 articles in August, observers warn that the remaining provisions still pose a serious threat. Aware that congress could overturn his vetoes, Lula appeared to strike a delicate balance, seeking to appease both the right and the left while maintaining an appearance of neutrality.

To host a climate summit whilst your government is passing this kind of law is to declare war on credibility. A country can’t simultaneously chair the climate table and fast track deregulation that invites deforestation and community displacement.

The bioeconomy in green disguise

Another of President Lula’s proudest talking points is Brazil’s “bioeconomy revolution”. At the BRICS Business Forum, he declared:

Our countries can lead a new development model based on sustainable agriculture, green industry, resilient infrastructure, and the bioeconomy.

It sounds visionary, but behind the slogans, the same extractive dynamics persist.

Large-scale soy, sugarcane, palm oil, and corn monocultures are expanding across the Amazon, justified as “renewable”, “green”, “clean”, “sustainable” biofuel crops, the “fuel of the future”. Projects like Amazônia 4.0 promise sustainable innovation, yet risk replicating the colonial logic of resource extraction in a green disguise.

The extension of this concept to the Amazon carries the inherent risk of it ending up being pulped and sold for profit, warns researcher Ossi Ollinaho from the University of Helsinki.

Meanwhile, environmental policy expert, Jorge Rodriguez Morales, observes that:

Positioning bioenergy as a climate strategy has effectively justified broader policies supporting the biofuel industry and contributed to the greenwashing of Brazil’s climate policy.

Offsets

Meanwhile, another COP30 spotlight is on carbon markets, the supposed magic wand of climate action, but voluntary carbon offsets are now under intense scrutiny. Research led by Dr. Thales West at Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam found that many REDD+ forest projects, once celebrated as a proof of progress, are built on “hope, not proof”, relying on shaky assumptions.

Nature reports that offset often “undermine decarbonisation by enabling companies and countries to claim reductions that don’t exist.”

At the heart of the problem is the baseline scenario: exaggerated threats allow projects to sell more credits, even for forests never at risk.

Even with the best intentions, if you follow the ‘wrong recipe’, you’ll probably not get the right result, says Dr. West.

Certifications systems, paid by the very projects they audit, create conflicts of interest, while many credits fail to account for forest loss through fire, logging, or displacement.

The Suruí project in Brazil, once celebrated as an Indigenous-led conservation success, collapsed under illegal mining and land pressures, demonstrating that even well-designed offsets can’t succeed in a broken system.

Critics warn that offsets have become a form of greenwashing, letting airlines, tech firms, and luxury brands continue polluting.

Dr. West cautions:

Unless there’s a change in attitude among companies, governments, and organisations such as the UN, the market is likely to continue prioritising convenience over integrity.

Integrity, truth and justice

Lula’s international rhetoric remains powerful, his speeches about “saving the Amazon” still win applause in New York, London, Paris, and Davos, but power without integrity is just noise.

At COP30, the word “justice” will be repeated many times, but justice requires more than words, it requires action, alignment of policy and principle.

Brazil can’t host the world’s climate summit while giving licenses for oil at the mouth of the Amazon, while loosening land protections for Indigenous peoples and while fast-tracking environmentally sensitive projects under the “devastation bill”.

The Amazon is not just a forest, it’s the lungs of a continent, the keeper of “flying rivers” that bring rain and moisture across Brazil and other regions, a shield against climate chaos. Destroy it, and the consequences ripple far beyond Brazil, bringing droughts, floods, climate instability, and even new pandemics.

The forest is already speaking in fires, in the smoke, in the disappearing rivers and threatened people. The world will hear COP30 speeches, but the forest hears actions, it hears what’s done, not what’s promised.

The Amazon has no more time for hypocrisy.

Photo taken on Nov. 10, 2025, shows the venue of the 30th session of the Conference of the Parties to the U.N. Framework Convention on Climate Change, known as COP30, opening the same day in Belem, Brazil, and running through Nov. 21.

Image featured: B. J. Warnick/Newscom/Alamy Live News

Porto Central: Brazil’s deepwater dream built on shaky foundations

Monica Piccinini

10 November 2025

By late 2024, dredgers begin carving through the seabed off the coast of Presidente Kennedy, a small town in southern Espírito Santo, once known for its quiet beaches. This is the chosen site of Porto Central, Brazil’s next mega-port and one of the most ambitious private logistics projects in the country’s history.

Promoters describe Porto Central as “one the largest industrial port complexes in Latin America”, a project meant to redefine Brazil’s export future. Yet, behind the promises of jobs and progress, tension is growing along this quiet stretch of coast. Critics are questioning who truly benefits from this ambitious initiative and who bears the hidden costs.

Porto Central spans 2,000 hectares, an area roughly the size of 2,800 football pitches, with a 25-metre-deep access channel capable of hosting giant VLCC (Very Large Crude Carrier) vessels. A single VLCC can carry approximately two million barrels of crude oil.

The project would host up to 54 terminals serving oil and gas, agribusiness, minerals, containers, and even renewable energy. Construction is divided into five phases, with total investment estimated around R$16bn (approximately $2.9bn).

A city by the sea

Porto Central’s attraction is geography. Sitting halfway along Brazil’s coastline, it promises to reduce transshipment and shorten export routes for oil and gas, grains, and iron ore.

Several major backers, including TPK Logística S.A., the Dutch company Van Oord, and the European subsidiary of US-based company Modern American Recycling Services (M.A.R.S.), are supporting Porto Central’s vast project, a deepwater hub designed to link Brazil’s pre-salt oil fields, agribusiness, and mining industries directly to global trade routes.

The pitch is clear and simple: reduce transshipment costs, shorten export routes, and compete with maritime giants like Rotterdam, Singapore, and Shanghai.

Phase 1 involves four core components: dredging 60 million m3 of seabed (the equivalent of 25,000 Olympic swimming pools); constructing a south breakwater with rock quarried 26 km inland; building a deep-water bulk and liquids terminal for oil transshipment; and developing a 65-hectare back area to assemble pipelines and foundations. Implementation began in late 2024, with full operational capacity planned for the end of the decade.

Yet, beneath the display of engineering confidence, lies a tangled web of risks.

 Dredging up damage

The socio-environmental stakes are immense. Porto Central’s environmental impact report (RIMA) outlines a list of risks rarely seen in such concentration: seabed dredging that could raise turbidity suffocating coral and fish, altering sediment flow, accelerating coastal erosion.

Protected species, including sea turtles, dolphins, and even migrating whales, use this stretch of coast to feed and breed. Noise, ship traffic, and artificial light threaten those rhythms.

Artisanal fishermen, farmers, and quilombola communities, many of whom operate within sight of the dredging site, risk losing both fishing grounds and income. Past compensation programmes for similar projects have proved inconsistent.

In 2023, Brazil’s environmental agency, Ibama, issued an installation license (LI) to Porto Central relating to Phase 1 of the project, requiring extra monitoring and mitigation. Environmentalists warn that enforcement capacity remains limited.

Voices

Local voices warn that the ecological and social costs of Porto Central could far outweigh its promises. Teacher, environmentalist and activist, José Roberto da Silva Vidal, who has been following the project’s impact in Presidente Kennedy, spoke with deep concern:

It’s heartbreaking to see what’s happening to our land and sea as Porto Central moves forward. The restinga forests are being cleared, rocks are blasted apart, and the water that sustains life here is under threat.

Every new truck, every machine adds to the damage releasing more emissions into an already fragile atmosphere. Calling this progress ignores the truth we’re all facing – the planet is warning us, and yet we keep choosing to look away.

On the front line against the Porto Central project, the grassroots group REDI gives voice to fishing families and riverside communities whose lives and traditions are at risk. FASE Espírito Santo stands with them, supporting local communities, defending their land and waters, and demanding accountability from those pushing destructive projects.

Marcos Pedlowski, a researcher and associate professor at the State University of Northern Rio de Janeiro (UENF), expresses deep concern about the potential impact of Porto Central on the small, fragile town of Presidente Kennedy. His worries are based in nearly two decades of research and firsthand experience living among those affected by the Açu Port, another large-scale project located less than 100 km from Porto Central:

Presidente Kennedy is a poor, quiet place, unprepared for a project of this size. When thousands of workers arrive, life here will change overnight, and not for the better. We’ll see more social tension, more prostitution, more alcohol and drugs. Violence will rise, and the community will be left to deal with the consequences.

He warns that these social risks are tied to deeper political realities:

We already live with corruption and heavy-handed policing in Espírito Santo. When you add a project like Porto Central to that mix, you’re setting the stage for even greater injustice.

For Pedlowski, what’s happening in Presidente Kennedy is part of a larger story, one he has seen unfold before along Brazil’s coast:

These are what I call sacrifice ports. The investors know the damage they’ll cause: the erosion, the pollution, the displacement of fishermen and quilombola families. But the profits speak louder. Behind all the promises, what’s really at play is the takeover of land and sea, with the state working hand in hand with corporate power.

A fossil fuel magnet

Some of Porto Central’s confirmed clients are hardly green. The company has signed contracts with Brazil’s state-owned oil and gas company, Petrobras (2021), Norwegian Equinor (2024), Chinese CNOOC (2024), and Spanish Repsol Sinopec (2025), to handle crude oil and derivatives.

José Maria Vieira de Novaes, Porto Central’s CEO, described oil as “one of the anchors of the project”, citing government forecasts of booming exports and limited existing infrastructure. He told Folha Business in 2022:

The existing terminals can’t absorb what’s coming.

While Brazil pledges to decarbonise, its newest mega-port is potentially built to accelerate fossil-fuel throughout.

Who profits?

At the heart of Porto Central is TPK Logística S.A., owned by the Polimix Organisation, a major Brazilian conglomerate in concrete, aggregates, and logistics. Polimix is controlled by Ronaldo Moreira Vieira, and José Maria Vieira de Novaes is one of TPK Logística’s partner.

According to the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists (ICIJ), Ronaldo Moreira Vieira is listed in the Panama Papers database. Being listed “active” in that database means the entity was operational at the time of the 2016 leak, evidence of involvement in offshore structuring. Though not proof of illegality, the revelation invites scrutiny over transparency and beneficial ownership.

A president with 13 companies

José Maria Vieira de Novaes, meanwhile, wears many hats. Corporate registries show his name linked to 13 companies, from Agropecuária Limão Ltda to Kennedy Energia Solar Ltda and Praia Kennedy Empreendimentos Ltda, collectively controlling over R$388m (approximately $72m) in share capital.

Several of these companies operate within the same region as the port. Some are active in real estate and energy, the very sectors poised to benefit from Porto Central’s rise. Such overlap could allow Novaes to benefit indirectly from Porto Central’s infrastructure expansion, a potential conflict of interest that blurs the line between public good and private gain.

Hazards and mitigation

Brazil’s environmental agency, Ibama, has already required Porto Central to conduct additional sediment and noise studies before advancing major phases of construction. While the company claims to operate under “international environmental standards”, local NGOs accuse it of pre-emptying full approval.

The list of some of the potential hazards reads like an environmental check-list from hell: destruction of marine habitats from dredging, disturbance to turtle nesting and marine mammal migration, erosion of beaches from altered sediment flow, pollution from oil spills, waste and sewage, noise and vibration from heavy machinery disturbing wildlife and residents, salinisation of groundwater, introduction of invasive species via ballast water, accident and spills during ship-to-ship transfer, destruction of mangroves, long-term erosion along the Presidente Kennedy coastline.

Porto Central vs Açu Port: a tale of two mega ports

Both Porto Central and Açu Port, located less than 100 km apart along Brazil’s southeast coast, share grand visions, deepwater and export terminals, and industrial zones promising jobs and growth.

Açu, launched in 2013 in São João da Barra, in Rio de Janeiro state, has matured into a functioning port and energy hub. Yet, academic research reveal deep scars: displacement of fishing families, salinisation of water tables, and unfulfilled social compensation. Research papers describe community disruption and environmental degradation as long term legacies of the project.

Carlos Freitas, an environmentalist with the NGO REDI, says the story repeating in Presidente Kennedy is painfully familiar. His group has been working with fishing families and the farmers in the MST (landless worker’s movement) settlements near Morro da Serrinha, where quarrying for Porto Central’s construction has already disrupted lives:

What happened at Açu Port is happening again here – the same promises, the same silence about the damage. They call it progress, but what we see is destruction disguised as development.

He explains that company meetings are called with only a few days’ notice, leaving little room for real participation. Meanwhile, explosions from the quarry scare off animals, cause livestock miscarriages, and shake the homes of farming families:

People are being misled with talk of jobs and growth, while explosions shake their land and animals flee. In the MST settlements, families are watching their crops and animals suffer. Porto Central isn’t bringing life to this region – it’s taking it away.

This illustrates a shared Brazilian dilemma, rapid industrialisation without governance or ecological safeguards.

Logistics

Beneath the promise of progress lies uncertainty. The project relies on unfinished national logistic links, including the EF-118 railway between the capital of Espírito Santo, Vitória, and Rio de Janeiro, EF-352 linking the states of Espírito Santo, Minas Gerais and Goiás, and highway upgrades on BR-101 and BR-262. Without them, Porto Central could become a bottleneck. The port’s promoters insist the state government’s commitment will guarantee completion, but Brazil’s infrastructure history is littered with stalled railways.

Add to that the climate challenge, as rising seas and stronger storms could test the port’s defences before it’s even operational.

Ambition and accountability

Porto Central sums up Brazil’s eternal paradox: vast potential, fragile governance.

It could, in theory, anchor Brazil’s future in global trade. Yet, without transparency, oversight and rigorous socio-environmental stewardship, it risks becoming another cautionary tale, of profit for a few and pollution for many, a crossroads between development and destruction.

With ownership structures stretching into offshore secrecy jurisdictions, and leadership linked to a constellation of private companies, accountability remains elusive.

 Whether Porto Central becomes Brazil’s Rotterdam, or its next development scandal, will depend less on engineering than on ethics.

For many locals, the question isn’t whether Porto Central will rise, but who it’ll serve once it does.

Porto Central did not respond to a request for comment.

Featured image: Governo do Espírito Santo.

Brazil’s biofuels boom under scrutiny ahead of COP30

Monica Piccinini

5 November 2025

As Brazil prepares to host COP30 in Belém this November, a new investigation by Repórter Brasil exposes how the country’s booming biofuel industry is driving deforestation, labour abuse, and land conflict, all in the name of sustainability.

Approved in October 2024, Brazil’s biofuels bill uncovers the true cost of its clean energy drive. The rapid expansion of ethanol, biodiesel, and so-called sustainable aviation fuel (SAF) is reshaping rural Brazil, threatening key ecosystems, and widening inequality.

The report, based on fieldwork, legal records, and supply-chain mapping, paints a more complex picture of an industry Brazil plans to showcase as the cornerstone of its decarbonisation strategy at COP30.

A climate leader with a carbon shadow

Since launching the Proálcoolprogramme in 1975, Brazil has positioned itself as a global pioneer in renewable fuels. Today, it produces more than 37 billion litres of ethanol and 9 billion litres of biodiesel a year, and it aims to generate 2.8 billion litres of SAF by 2035.

Brazil’s biofuel and feedstock exports hit record levels in 2024, with 1.88 billion litres of ethanol shipped mainly to the United States and the European Union. The country also exported 98.8 million tonnes of soybeans, mostly to China and Europe, along with 408 tonnes of palm oil to the US and European markets.

Public money has poured into it too. The state development bank, BNDES, and Brazil’s innovation agency, Finep, have channelled R$11.7bn (approximately £1.6bn) into the sector since 2022, largely through the government’s Climate Fund.

These numbers will be at the centre of Brazil’s message in Belém, that home-grown biofuels can help deliver on its Paris Agreement pledge to cut emissions by up to 67% by 2035.

Yet, deforestation remains Brazil’s main source of greenhouse gases. According to the report, “land-use change” (LUC), driven by agricultural expansion for fuel crops, is cancelling out many of the supposed climate gains.

Soy: the Cerrado sacrificed

Nowhere is that contradiction clearer than in the Cerrado, a vast tropical savanna known as Brazil’s “water reservoir”. It has become the country’s main frontier for soy, which supplies 70% of Brazil’s biodiesel.

The area planted with soy in the Cerrado region has grown sixteen-fold since 1985, and the biome overtook the Amazon in 2023 as the most deforested region.

The investigation found that even soy from illegally cleared land still finds its way into biodiesel supply chains through a practice known as “soy laundering”.

One supplier linked to multinational trader Bunge cleared nearly 100 hectares of protected vegetation. Others in the Matopiba region (spanning the states of Maranhão, Tocantins, Piauí and Bahia), stripped 11,000 hectares between 2021 and 2023.

Half of Europe’s soy imports now come from Brazil. Yet, under the EU’s new anti-deforestation law (EUDR), much of the Cerrado remains exempt because it’s classified as “non-forest”.

Conservationists warn that this loophole could keep the chainsaws running, even as Brussels tightens the rules.

Beef tallow: the cost of ‘green’ diesel

Beef tallow, another raw material for renewable diesel and SAF, tells a story of hidden emissions and human cost. Framed as a “waste product”, it’s tied to cattle farming, the single largest driver of Amazon deforestation.

Brazil exported 320,000 tonnes of beef tallow last year, up 30% more than the previous year, with 94% going to the US.

The investigation links these exports to serious abuses. Repórter Brasil traced shipments from meatpackers accused of sourcing cattle from rancher Bruno Heller, accused by federal police of being the “largest deforester in the Amazon”, and from farms where inspectors recued workers held in slavery-like conditions.

In 2024, the Saudi oil firm Aramco was among the companies that bought from a supplier later implicated in such a case.

Certification systems fail to catch these risks. Under schemes such as ISCC (International Sustainability & Carbon Certification), traceability starts at the slaughterhouse, not the farm, leaving the origins of “waste” fat unmonitored.

Because the animal phase is excluded from carbon accounting, diesel based on tallow can appear “low carbon”, even when linked to forest loss and forced labour.

Palm oil and violence in Pará, COP30 host

In the state of Pará, where COP30 will take place, the expansion of palm oil has brought violence and violations.

In the towns of Acará and Tomé-Açu, riverside and quilombola (descendents of Afro-Brazilian slaves) communities, and Tembé Indigenous families, report land seizures, blocked river access and armed security around plantations operated by BBF (Brasil Biofuels), which supplies palm oil for biodiesel and SAF.

Court records examined by Repórter Brasil show 1,697 labour lawsuits against palm oil companies in Pará alone, one of the highest counts in Brazil. Workers complained of lack of drinking water, toilets, and fair pay.

Sugarcane: slavery reborn

Sugarcane, the symbol of Brazil’s ethanol pride, has also being tainted. In 2023, inspectors rescued 32 workers from degrading conditions on a plantation supplying ethanol producer Colombo Agroindústria, a supplier to Raízen, the world’s largest sugar and ethanol company. The workers had no toilets, clean water, and proper bedding.

A separate inspection at a corn-ethanol construction site in Mato Grosso uncovered the country’s largest rescue in years: 563 workers trapped in debt bondage, sleeping in overcrowded, unlit rooms. The project had been financed with R$500m (approximately £69.7m) from the Climate Fund.

The workers arranged for old, dirty, and torn mattresses to be placed directly on the floor or on makeshift beds to avoid contact with venomous animals in their accommodation, inspectors reported.

Experts attribute the surge in abuses to the outsourcing of plantation labour, which allows large companies to distance themselves from conditions on the ground while still profiting from cheap labour.

Jorge Ernesto Rodriguez Morales, lecturer and researcher in environmental policy and climate change governance at Stockholm University, spoke about the environmental impact of bioenergy production:

Current climate policy positions biomass-based fuels as a replacement for fossil fuels in the transport sector, with sugarcane ethanol as a flagship solution for greenhouse gas reduction in international climate negotiations. However, scaling up bioenergy production can have serious socio-environmental impacts.

Like food production, ethanol requires land, water, and nutrients, meaning that a large-scale expansion could intensify the negative side effects of agricultural growth.

Indirect emissions

These stories expose the gap between Brazil’s rhetoric and reality. While the government’s Renovabio programme rewards producers of “low carbon” fuels with tradeable credits, it ignores the indirect emissions caused when forests are cleared elsewhere to replace farmland converted to biofuel crops.

Studies show that the Renovabio policy doesn’t cover the impacts of Land Use Change (LUC) through Life Cycle Assessment (LCA) for calculating greenhouse gas emissions from biofuel.

Safeguards

Brazil’s biofuels bill offers an ambitious plan, one that could decide whether Brazil’s renewable fuel revolution survives its own contradictions. It calls for crop expansion to be limited to land that is already cleared or degraded, and for full traceability of every plantation and processing plant through geolocation mapping.

To address the issues with supply chain, the report urges the government to extend cattle sector tracking systems to bovine tallow, linking each batch of fat used for biodiesel to the individual animals it came from through records and invoices, allowing auditors to follow the trail from slaughterhouse to refinery.

Suppliers would face mandatory screening for ties to deforestation, forced labour, or illegal land repossession with public disclose of results.

Experts agree the reforms are overdue, but they warn they will fail if costs fall solely on small farmers.

For researchers and campaigners, the demand for transparency must ultimately come from the markets that buy Brazil’s fuels. Without that pressure from Europe, the US, and global investors, the country’s energy transition risks remaining a promise on paper, while its forests and workers continue to pay the hidden price.

The moment of truth in Belém

Nearly 50 years after Proálcool began, Brazil’s biofuel dream stands at a crossroads. It has delivered technical innovation and jobs, but it has also deepened old inequalities (exploitation of workers known as bóias-frias ) and accelerated deforestation in some of the country’s most fragile biomes.

Morales spoke about the Brazilian government’s position and priorities concerning the expansion of biofuel production:

In foreign environmental policy, the Brazilian government has historically been reluctant to prioritise environmental protection over economic growth, often attributing major environmental issues to developed countries.

As COP30 approaches, the government plans to promote the Belém Commitment for Sustainable Fuels, pledging to quadruple global production by 2035. But without stronger safeguards, the Brazil risks turning its climate initiative into an environmental liability.

As delegates gather in Belém, Brazil’s green promises are on trial: will biofuel politics crush them, or is the climate summit just witnessing another round of empty rhetoric?

Featured image: ID 247380755 © Alf RibeiroDreamstime.com

Can we really offset our way out of the climate crisis?

Monica Piccinini

26 October 2025

As leaders gather in Belém for COP30 this November, carbon markets are back in the spotlight. Once celebrated as a key tool for reducing emissions, carbon credits are now under increasing scrutiny, with critics questioning whether they provide genuine climate benefits or simply give polluters a free pass.

For years, we’ve been told that buying carbon credits could cancel out our pollution and help protect the planet. Pay a little extra for your flight, offset your business emissions, and somewhere a rainforest would stay standing. It sounds like a simple fix for a complicated problem, a way to carry on as usual while someone else planted or protected trees for us.

But a new research, led by Dr Thales A. P. West, a tenured assistant professor at the Institute for Environmental Studies (IVM) at the Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam, has blown that idea apart.

The paper states that many REDD+ (Reducing Emissions from Deforestation and Forest Degradation) voluntary carbon offset schemes are built “on hope, not proof”.

Published in the Global Change Biology journal and written by leading scientists from across Europe, the Americas, and Asia, the research finds that most carbon offsets don’t work. In fact, many are based on shaky assumptions, exaggerated data, and a convenient kind of wishful thinking.

Another article recently published in Nature states that:

Offsets undermine decarbonisation by enabling companies and countries to claim that emissions have been reduced when they have not. This results in more emissions, delays the phase-out of fossil fuels and diverts scarce resources to false solutions.

A market built on hope, not proof

The voluntary carbon market (VCM) was designed to help people and companies offset their emissions by paying for projects that prevent deforestation and forest degradation. Each credit, worth one tonne of avoided carbon dioxide, could be traded, bought, and sold like a stock.

At the heart of the problem lies the “baseline”, the imagined scenario of what would have happened without the project, how much forest would have been destroyed. The worse the imagined future, the more credits a project can sell.

And that’s where the problem starts. Some projects exaggerated those threats, claiming they were saving forests that were never really in danger. Some built computer models so weak they were “no better than guessing”, the research reveals. Others were set in remote areas where nobody was planning to cut trees in the first place.

So, while companies brag about being “carbon neutral”, some of those credits may not represent any real climate benefit at all.

Dr West says that while some developers act in good faith, the system itself is set up to fail:

Not every project developer is inflating baselines. Some genuinely want to do the right thing, but they’re forced to follow Verra’s approved methodologies. Even with the best intentions, if you follow the “wrong recipe”, you will probably not get the right result.

These frameworks just aren’t fit for measuring project performance or impact. The tools exist to do it properly, but they add uncertainty and risk, and that’s bad for business. The uncomfortable truth is that accuracy may not be profitable.

Offsets become greenwashing

From airlines to tech giants to luxury brands, offsets have become a moral license to keep polluting, with a green halo attached.

The people certifying and selling the credits often have a financial stake in keeping the system alive. Everyone benefits from big numbers, except the planet.

The paper exposes how this system, which was meant to channel money into conservation, is filled with conflicts of interest.

Certification bodies, paid by the very projects they audit, have every incentive to keep the credits flowing. Rating agencies compete for business by offering favourable evaluations.

Developers often withhold crucial data hiding behind commercial secrecy. Even some auditors, the research reveals, have “relied on self-reporting by project staff” instead of independent verification.

Dr West argues that without structural independence, integrity is impossible:

Some people believe government oversight could help but look at the Clean Development Mechanism (CDM) under the Kyoto Protocol – there are many well-known cases where corruption was rampant. Bringing in more organisations won’t fix it if the incentives stay the same. 

A simple step would be for developers to pay the certifying body, which then randomly assigns an auditor. There should also be firm standards for auditor competence and team size. Right now, one person might inspect a project in two days while another team spends a week. That kind of inconsistency can compromise the quality of certification.

Forests still falling

The researchers revisit the Suruí project in Brazil, once celebrated as a model of Indigenous-led conservation. It was built on solid science, used local knowledge, and even gained international recognition.

Despite its promise, the project collapsed under pressure from illegal miners and cattle farmers. The lesson, reveals the paper, is clear: even the best-designed offset can’t stop deforestation if the wider system – politics, law enforcement, and land rights – is broken.

This month, Brazil’s federal public prosecutor’s office (MPF) filed a lawsuit asking to immediately stop a carbon credit project in protected areas of Amazonas where Indigenous and traditional communities live. The MPF says the project, launched by the Amazonas State Department of the Environment (Sema), is moving forward without consulting the local communities, breaking the rules of the International Labour Organisation (ILO) Convention 169.

These are not isolated stories. From Cambodia to Kenya, projects have been undermined by corruption, land disputes, or government decisions to build dams and roads through “protected” zones. Others have restricted local people’s access to forests, cutting off livelihoods.

Too often, communities see little of the money that flows through these schemes. For instance, in Zimbabwe, the government decreed that half of all carbon revenue must go to the state, with only a fraction reaching local villages. The “benefits” are usually captured by community “elites”.

Dr West says the system rewards profit-driven consultancies rather than grassroots groups with genuine ties to the land:

Some NGOs have worked with local communities for decades, long before carbon credits existed, but many developers are international consulting firms chasing profit. If they can strike a deal to keep 90% of the revenue and hand 10% to the community, they probably will. 

Governments should step in with clear rules to guarantee fair shares. Without that, communities are left to negotiate from a position of weakness, without the knowledge or representation to protect their interests.

The problem that never goes away

The researchers also highlight what they call “leakage”. Protecting one forest simply pushes deforestation somewhere else. A logging ban in one area, for example, can just shift logging to the next valley.

Most projects assume leakage is small, often just 1%, but studies suggest it could be ten times higher.

Then there’s the problem of “non-permanence”, when forests burn, rot, or are cut after a project ends. Fires in California and the Amazon have already wiped-out vast stretches of land whose carbon credits are still circulating in global markets.

Under current rules, many buyers are essentially “renting” temporary reductions that could vanish tomorrow. Once a project ends, there’s often no legal responsibility for anyone to replace those lost credits.

Dr West says the market’s safeguards are far too weak:

If companies buy credits from forest projects, the forest must be there. If it disappears, the credits disappear too. The problem is that even certified and audited calculations may still lack credibility – certification alone doesn’t necessarily guarantee anything.

Verra’s insurance buffer was meant to cover losses, but research shows it’s far too small and based on shaky risk models. Most projects last only a few decades; once they expire, their credits could eventually expire too. Yet no one wants to talk about that because it’s inconvenient. The voluntary market has simply chosen to not take the issue of permanence seriously.

A system built to look good

The UN’s earlier carbon market under the Kyoto Protocol rejected forest protection credits precisely because they were too hard to measure and too easy to manipulate. Two decades later, the voluntary market revived them, but this time with better branding and slick marketing.

Now, as governments consider including such projects under the Paris Agreement, the researchers warn against repeating the same mistakes.

Companies want easy answers, consumers like the comfort of “carbon neutral” products, and carbon credits make the story possible, even if it isn’t true.

Prospects

The scientists behind the research aren’t against protecting forests, they just want honesty about what these projects can and can’t do. Real conservation is vital for biodiversity, climate stability, and the livelihoods of millions.

But pretending that selling carbon credits for these efforts can “cancel out” fossil fuel emissions is dangerous and delusional. Real climate action means cutting emissions at the source, not outsourcing guilt to a forest thousands of miles away.

Some projects could make a genuine difference, such as forest management, reduced-impact logging, or restoring native ecosystems rather than planting monoculture tree farms. But these are slower and less profitable, which means the market mostly ignores them.

The authors call for true transparency, public data, and independent audits that aren’t paid by the very people being audited. They warn that without major reform, REDD+ risks repeating the injustices it claims to solve.

Until then, every dollar spent on bad credits is money not spent on real solutions.

Time for truth

As climate pledges tighten and pressure mounts, companies are rushing to buy offsets, but some courts are now ruling that calling a product “carbon neutral” based on such credits is misleading.

For years, carbon credits offered an easy story, that we could keep burning, flying, and spending like no tomorrow, while forests quietly cleaned up our mess, but that story is ending.

As COP30 prepares to put carbon markets centre stage, the debate over their future is intensifying.

Dr West says it’s time for an honest reckoning, either fix the system or face the truth about its limits:

Some of my co-authors think the market is beyond repair; others believe it can potentially be fixed if we finally confront its flaws. We’ve never really tried to make it work properly. Only by admitting what’s wrong and applying rigorous science can we find out if it’s salvageable.

But the current system runs on conflicts of interest. The people defending it either don’t understand it or profit from keeping it broken. Unless there is a change in attitude among companies, governments, and organisations such as the UN, the market is likely to continue prioritising convenience over integrity.

Featured image: Fahroni / Alamy

COP30 countdown: the banks financing the Amazon’s oil addiction

Monica Piccinini

24 October 2025

With COP30 fast approaching, the first UN climate summit to take place in the heart of the Amazon, a new investigation exposes an uncomfortable reality: the flow of finance into oil and gas extraction across the rainforest shows no signs of slowing, even as many of the banks behind it promote themselves as champions of climate action.

According to environmental group Stand.earth’s new report, Banks vs the Amazon Scorecard, and updated Amazon Banks Database, just 10 banks are responsible for almost 75% of all direct financing for oil and gas across the Amazon basin since the Paris Agreement was signed in 2016.

Together, those 10 banks, led by JP Morgan Chase, Citi, Bank of America, Itaú Unibanco and HSBC, have poured more than $15bn into Amazon oil and gas projects.

But a shift is underway. European lenders, once deeply entangled in the region’s fossil fuel industry, are beginning to pull back, while banks in the Americas are stepping in to fill the gap.

France’s BNP Paribas and Britain’s HSBC have reduced their exposure following the introduction of Amazon-specific exclusion policies that prohibit financing for companies involved in Amazon oil and gas activities. As a result, the banks have dropped in recent financing rankings: BNP Paribas now 45th, HSBC 17th, with $4m and $12m respectively since January 2024.

In contrast, the biggest increases now come from the Americas. Brazil’s Itaú Unibanco tops the latest list with $378m in new financing in the past 18 months alone, a 3-place jump that puts it ahead of JP Morgan Chase with $326m, and Bank of America with $317m.

Peruvian bank Credicorp and Canada’s Scotiabank have also sharply increased their roles, with Credicorp nearly tripling its contribution to $154m.

Dr. Devyani Singh, lead researcher for the database and scorecard said: 

Our research reveals that although European banks like BNP Paribas or HSBC applied more robust policies to protect the sensitive Amazon rainforest than their peers, significantly dropped in financing ranks, no bank has yet brought its financing to zero. Every one of these banks must close the existing loopholes and fully exit Amazon oil and gas without delay.

The scorecardranks 18 major global banks on five criteria, from Amazon-specific policies to human-rights safeguards, grouping them as “frontrunners”, “moderate achievers”, “followers”, and “laggards”.

Only BNP Paribas earns the top tier. HSBC, Barclays, ING, and Société Générale are judged moderate achievers, having introduced partial exclusion rules.

Citi, Santander, BBVA, Intesa Sanpaolo, and Standard Chartered follow with limited project-level restriction, while Bank of America, JP Morgan Chase, Itaú Unibanco, Scotiabank, Credicorp, Goldman Sachs, Royal Bank of Canada, and Banco Nordeste sit among the laggards, banks with little or no Amazon-specific policy and rising exposure.

Stand.earth’s analysis also underscores a transparency gap: direct Amazon financing represents only 2% to total identified fossil fuel finance to companies operating in the Amazon. This means that the true scale of exposure is likely far higher.

Martyna Dominiak, Stand.earth’s senior climate finance campaigner and lead author of the report, said:

The Banks vs. The Amazon scorecard and Amazon Banks Database update present not only a clear opportunity but an urgent deadline ahead of COP30 for banks to stop financing fossil fuels in the Amazon. For Indigenous Peoples resisting extractivism — and their allies — the region’s first climate COP is a pivotal moment demanding an Amazon free from fossil fuels.

Devastation and disease

The timing couldn’t be more urgent, as the Amazon, the world’s largest tropical rainforest, is approaching an irreversible tipping point, where deforestation, degradation, and climate change, could flip it from carbon sink into a carbon source.

Oil and gas operations are contributing to deforestation and degradation by opening roads and pipelines, driving settlements, clearing land, polluting waterways, bringing total chaos and devastation.

According to investigations cited in the report, over 6,000 oil-contaminated sites have been documented across the rainforest, in Brazil, Ecuador, Peru, and Colombia. Communities living near extraction zones report rising cases of cancer, miscarriages, and respiratory disease.

Still, governments continue to expand drilling. Brazil auctioned 68 new oil blocks in the Amazon earlier this year, while in Ecuador drilling continues in Yasuní National Park despite a 2023 referendum to stop it. In Peru, 31 new blocks have been auctioned since 2023, overlapping with the lands of more than 400 Indigenous communities.

Olivia Bisa, president of the autonomous territorial government of the Chapra Nation, said:

It’s outrageous that Bank of America, Scotiabank, Credicorp, and Itaú are increasing their financing of oil and gas in the Amazon at a time when the forest itself is under grave threat. For decades, Indigenous peoples have suffered the heaviest impacts of this destruction. We are calling on banks to change course now: by ending support for extractive industries in the Amazon, they can help protect the forest that sustains our lives and the future of the planet.

Corruption and violations

The database links over $2bn in new financing since early 2024 to just six companies: Petrobras, Eneva, Gunvor, Gran Tierra, Pluspetrol Camisea, and Hunt Oil Peru. Each one of them face allegations of corruption, environmental damage and/or violations of Indigenous rights.

Eneva, a Brazilian gas producer whose operations overlap Indigenous Gavião Real territory, located in the municipality of Silves, in eastern Amazonas, was forced to suspend its activities following an order from federal court citing violations of Indigenous rights and environmental law.

Despite the ruling, Eneva continues to receive financing from Itaú Unibanco, Banco do Nordeste, Banco da Amazonia, Bradesco, BTG Pactual, Banco do Brasil, XP Investimentos, Santander, and Arab Banking Corporation.

Petrobras, Brazil’s state-owned oil giant, is pressing ahead with plans to drill at the mouth of the Amazon River. Environmental experts have repeatedly warned that the project could threaten marine life, fisheries, and coastal ecosystems in the region.

The case involving Swiss oil trader Gunvor highlights how loopholes in banking policies still allow problematic clients to slip through. Gunvor was convicted of bribing Ecuadorian officials to secure oil contracts between 2013 and 2020, yet it continues to benefit from financing by ING, one of Europe’s largest banks, illustrating how partial exclusions and project-level bans can still leave room for continued support of controversial fossil fuel projects.

The road to Belém

Stand.earth is calling on all banks to phase out Amazon oil and gas financing by 2030, including loans, bonds, and advisory services, and to strengthen Indigenous rights policies in the line with the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP).

Central to this is respecting free, prior and informed consent (FPIC), according to the ILO 169 Convention, which gives Indigenous nations the right to say no to projects on their lands.

The organisation argues that the upcoming COP30 summit in Belém, at the heart of the Amazon, is the perfect stage for banks to announce real commitments.

If banks choose to act, COP30 could mark a turning point, not only for the Amazon, but also for the financial industry’s role in the climate crisis. If they don’t, the next decade could decide whether the world’s greatest rainforest lives or dies.

Featured image: Lays Ushirobira / Stand.earth

Disease is catastrophically reshaping the planet’s most protected landscapes

Monica Piccinini

16 October 2025

From gorillas in Congo to seabirds in Argentina, wildlife diseases are spreading faster than conservationists can respond. A new report warns that the next great biodiversity crisis may already be underway, and it’s microscopic.

A new report from the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) has sounded the alarm: the world’s most treasured ecosystems are being weakened by a threat that rarely makes the news. It’s not a drought or a wildfire, but something smaller, quieter, and spreading fast.

As the planet heats up, forests shrink, and invasive species move in, a surge of new pathogens is taking hold. These diseases are changing the way nature works, reshaping entire landscapes and pushing vulnerable species closer to the edge.

The IUCN World Heritage Outlook 4 assessed in total 271 sites, 231 natural and 40 mixed world heritage sites spread across 115 countries, covering an area of 470 million hectares. It reveals a sharp increase in the number of natural world heritage sites reporting serious disease outbreaks.

Five years ago, only two sites considered pathogens a major concern. Today, 23 describe them as high or very high threats.

It’s a tenfold jump that signals how viruses, bacteria, and fungi are emerging as powerful agents of ecological disruption, often spreading faster than conservationists can track or contain them.

In the report, Dr. Grethel Aguilar, IUCN director general, highlights that protecting world heritage is essential to preserving the planet’s life, culture, and shared identity:

Protecting world heritage is not just about safeguarding iconic places – it is about protecting the very foundations of life, culture, and identity for people everywhere.

These are some of the world’s most outstanding sites, as they are home to extraordinary biodiversity and geodiversity. They sustain communities, inspire generations, and connect us to our shared history.

The silent spread

Across continents, pathogens are killing species faster than most recovery programmes can respond.

In Africa’s Virunga National Park, Ebola continues to infect great apes, erasing decades of conservation progress. In Argentina’s Península Valdés, the avian influenza A/H5N1 strain has devastated seabird and elephant seal colonies, leaving beaches filled with carcasses.

Half a world away, the Tasmanian Wilderness remains under attack from chytrid fungus, a microscopic invader that has driven amphibian species toward extinction.

In the US, Mammoth Cave’s bat populations have been decimated by white-nose syndrome. Even trees, the quiet giants of the biosphere, are not spared, as the Sundarbans mangroves of South Asia are succumbing to a “top dying” disease that undermines both biodiversity and the coastal protection millions of people depend on.

These aren’t isolated cases, as they form part of a global pattern, what the IUCN describes as the “biological fallout” of a warming planet.

Pathogens are travelling further and faster, their reach increased by climate instability, global trade, and tourism. Stable ecosystems are now becoming laboratories of infection, petri dishes.

Climate change

According to the IUCN report, climate change now poses the greatest threat to natural world heritage sites worldwide, with 43% of sites rated as highly threatened, up from 22% in 2020.

The report links the rise in diseases directly to climate change. Shifts in rainfall and temperature are moving species and the microbes that live on them into unfamiliar territory. Mosquitoes climb to higher altitudes, fungal spores drift further on the wind, birds migrate at the wrong time, carrying parasites into unprepared ecosystems. 

In the Arctic, warming temperatures could awaken ancient microbes from permafrost. In tropical forests, animals pushed by heat or drought come into closer contact with humans, heightening the risk of zoonotic spillovers.

In North America, diseases now are above wildfires as a leading threat to heritage sites. In South America, avian flu and coral pathogens have reached epidemic levels. In Africa, diseases like Ebola and canine distemper are merging with chronic challenges like poaching and habitat loss, complicating conservation efforts challenging to manage.

The report calls these overlaps “planetary feedback loops”, where environmental change breeds disease, which in turn weakens nature’s resilience to that very change.

Invasive species and pathogens collide

According to the report, there’s a subtle but deadly partnership: invasive species and pathogens often move together. Rats spread parasites, ornamental plants carry fungi, mosquitoes are spread to new places. These hitchhikers exploit the same pathways as trade and tourism.

Invasive species are already ranked as the second-greatest global threat to world heritage sites, after climate change, and the report warns that biological invasions and infectious diseases are converging into a single crisis.

Without strong biosecurity and early detection, local outbreaks can snowball into continental epidemics.

Interdependence

The report calls attention to how disease outbreaks threaten local communities that depend on ecosystem services. Mangrove dieback in the Sundarbans undermines fisheries and coastal protection for millions. Coral diseases linked to warming seas endanger livelihoods in island nations.

The interdependence of species outlined in the “Once Health” concept argues that the health of people, animals, and ecosystems is inseparable.

Tourism, while economically vital, is also a vector for disease transmission. It highlights that tourism-related activities can cause the spread of invasive alien species and pathogens, especially in island ecosystems.

Science and surveillance

The IUCN admits that disease monitoring remains incomplete, and assessments rely on patchy information. The report calls for standardised health monitoring across all heritage areas: sampling water and soil for pathogens, recording wildlife mortality, sharing genomic data internationally. It suggests weather forecasting could predict outbreaks months ahead.

In the end, the IUCN’s warning is not about any specific microbe but about the conditions that led them to thrive. Habitat loss, global trade, fragmented governance, these are the real culprits or vectors. Pathogens only exploit the cracks we leave open.

The pathogen surge isn’t just a biological problem; it’s humanity’s fragmented relationship with the natural world. Deforestation, trade, and carbon emissions aren’t separate crises, they’re interconnected, making both people and ecosystems more vulnerable to disease.

Dr Aguilar, IUCN’s director general, writes:

The decisions being made today by governments, corporate leaders, and consumers will determine whether we can reverse global biodiversity loss – or experience a catastrophic collapse of our biosphere.

Rio de Janeiro’s ‘Squid Game’: Where police are paid to kill

Monica Piccinini

6 October 2025

Rio de Janeiro is approaching a crisis where policing and killing may become indistinguishable. A new proposed law would reward police officers with cash bonuses for every suspect they kill.

Supporters argue this is an effective step to combat organised crime, but critics describe it as a state-sanctioned execution.

To many residents of Rio’s poorest communities, living in the shadow of both drug gangs and police raids, it feels like something out of a dystopian movie. Imagine waking up in a community knowing that your life or your child’s life might be worth money to someone with a badge and a gun.

The people sworn to protect you are now given financial incentives to treat the streets like a hunting ground.

César Muñoz, Human Rights Watch director, said:

Giving bonuses to police for killings is not only outright brutal but also undermines public security by creating a financial incentive for officers to shoot rather than arrest suspects.

The price of a life

The bill (6027/2025) risks turning the fight against crime into a deadly competition, a real “Squid Game”, where the scorecard is written in blood. Rather than incentivising arrests or prosecutions, it rewards lethal force.

It won’t be the wealthy in gated communities who’ll suffer. It won’t be the politicians drafting this bill protected by bodyguards, living behind marbled walls. It’ll be the young man or woman walking home from work, the child playing soccer in an alley. Undoubtfully, mistakes will be made, because under this law “mistakes” might mean bonuses.

On 24 January, Jeronimo Gomes da Silva, 44, a resident of Complexo do Alemão, one of Rio’s largest favelas, reported that a grenade was thrown from a drone into his home. He said:

They threw a grenade from a drone onto my balcony, destroying my house. My family and I almost died here.

Reports have also emerged of agents from Rio de Janeiro’s military police BOPE (Special Operations Battalion) entering a home in Complexo do Alemão and robbing a family, an incident that highlights abuse of power.

Speaking with Brasil de Fato, Jacqueline Muniz, an anthropologist, political scientist, and specialist in public security, warned that this bill could have far-reaching effects, particularly in how it blurs the line between policing and organised crime. She explained:

The police start organising organised crime itself, so they don’t just get close to the crime, they become partners, associates, okay? If you kill people who know about organised crime, you’re sabotaging the investigation itself and the production of intelligence that would serve to identify how organised crime works, who’s who within organised crime. You’re rigging the police for partisan purposes, for all sorts of rigging.

This ends up revealing corruption schemes, a logic of partnership with crime, right? It reveals, therefore, that death doesn’t result from a high-risk action, but rather becomes a commodity. It’s as if the state has militarised its police force and even cheapened the lives of police officers.

Brazilian authorities claim the policy would boost morale in a force stretched thin by violence and underfunding, while sending a tough message to cartels and militias that dominate Rio’s favelas.

But the cost of this action is crystal clear: human lives, particularly those of young, poor, and Black men who already make up a disproportionate number of victims in police confrontations.

Every year, Brazilian police are responsible for more than 6,000 deaths, many of them young Black men. Black Brazilians are about three times more likely to die in confrontations with the police compared to white Brazilians.

In 2024, Rio’s military police and civil police killed 703 people, almost two per day. At least 86% were Black. Between January and August this year, they’ve killed 470 people.

When the state decides that some lives are worth less, that some deaths are worth cash, it tells an entire class of people: you are disposable.

International groups, including Human Rights Watch, have condemned the bill warning it’d encourage extrajudicial killings, deepen mistrust between communities and the state, and establisha cycle of violence that has already scarred Brazil for decades.

Injustice reigns and scars are visible. Families who have lost sons in police raids hardly ever see accountability. Courts rarely prosecute officers involved in questionable shootings. Adding financial rewards only makes justice more elusive.

The Crossroads

Brazil stands at a crossroads. One path leads to more violence, more mistrust, more broken families, and the other demands courage and will, investing in education, creating real opportunities in the favelas, reforming police systems, and addressing poverty as the root of the crime.

Crime in Rio isn’t born from lack of policing, but from inequality.

The easy solution are bullets, the hard road is building a society where police do not need to be blackmailed to protect, where children don’t grow up expecting to die young, where safety comes from justice, not from fear.

Policies like this reduce people to targets, strip away humanity until all that’s left is a number: one more “suspect” eliminated, one more “bonus” earned.

For Muniz, the debate around public security goes beyond policing strategies and touches the core of Brazil’s democracy. She argues that real reform can only happen when armed institutions are brought under civilian control and when elected governments are able to exercise their authority without challenge.

If we want to play democracy, we must do it for real. The first dimension of democracy to guarantee legitimately elected governments, whether left or right, is the control of the sword. Something that has become out of control in Brazil,” Muniz warned.

Activists and minority groups

With COP30 approaching in November in Belém, Brazil is stepping into the international spotlight. Yet, President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva has remained notably quiet on a contentious bill that could shape debates around human rights and environmental protections. His silence has raised questions over whether he is deliberately keeping his distance to avoid political fallout just as the country prepares to host the global climate summit.

The potential consequences of the proposed law are far-reaching. Should it be adopted more widely, whether under Lula’s administration or by a future far-right government, the impact could be profound. Critics warn it would not only endanger those labelled as “suspects” but also expose environmental activists, Indigenous leaders, and other minority groups to heightened risks in a country already filled with tensions over land and resources.

For Selma dos Santos Dealdina Mbaye, a prominent quilombola activist, the situation reflects the daily reality for those defending Brazil’s environment. She stresses that activists are already working under constant pressure:

We are often victims of unspeakable violence. At least 413 environmental and land defenders have been murdered or disappeared since 2012 in Brazil. According to Global Witness data on the attacks, 36 of them were of African descent.

We have not yet recovered from the assassination of our beloved leader, Mãe Bernadete, in 2023, six years after her son’s murder. We know that, before her death, Mãe reported several death threats against her and her community.

“here is no doubt that her role as a defender of the environment and the territory made her a target for those who attacked her. But, in addition, like other members of the Afro-descendant community who need collective protection, Mãe was more likely to suffer violent attacks because of her race.

A call to conscience

The world should not look away because what’s happening in Rio isn’t just Brazil’s problem, it’s a stark warning. Any society that starts placing a bounty on its own people, edges closer to societal collapse.

This bill is not protection nor justice, this is blood money, and history will not forgive those who turned human lives into a pay-per-kill system. In the end, this issue isn’t about crime rates or police bonuses, it’s about what kind of world we choose to build, one where life is valuable, or one where death has a price. Unless another path is chosen, the streets of Rio may soon resemble a game where survival itself is the prize.

Ecocide in Gaza: The silent war on nature and survival

Monica Piccinini

4 October 2025

Beyond the unbearable loss of lives and the endless destruction of homes, another war is being waged in Gaza, one that’s quieter, but just as deadly. It’s a war against the land itself.

Fields once used to grow food have been burnt, wells and water pipes are poisoned, and the air is filled with smoke, dust, and toxins that lingers long after the bombs fall. What remains is not just rubble, but a landscape stripped of its ability to sustain life.

This destruction has a name: ecocide. It’s the deliberate killing of the environment, the tearing apart of the soil, the water, and the air that people depend on to survive.

In Gaza, ecocide means that even if the bombs were to stop tomorrow, families would still face hunger, thirst, and sickness because the very earth beneath them has been attacked.

Ecocide isn’t just a side effect of war, it’s used as a weapon, and its damage lasts long after the fighting ends, leaving the land and its people scarred for generations.

Water weaponised

UN experts expressed their concern about Israel’s water weaponisation:

Israel is using thirst as a weapon to kill Palestinians. Cutting off water and food is a silent but lethal bomb that kills mostly children and babies. The sight of infants dying in their mothers’ arms is unbearable. How can world leaders sleep while this suffering continues?

Water is at the heart of Gaza’s ecocide. Even before October 2023, access to clean water in Gaza has been systematically destroyed. Less than 3% of available water met safe standards before the war.

By mid-2024, 88% of Gaza’s water wells and all desalination plants had been destroyed or disabled. Reservoirs, pipelines, and pumping stations were deliberately stuck.

At least 1 million people in Gaza reported having less than six litres per person per day of water suitable for cooking and drinking. Before October 2023, the population in Gaza had access to the minimum recommended of 80-85 litres of water per person each day.

Children are queueing up for hours to fill a small jug, while hospitals report a surge in dehydration, diarrhoea, jaundice and water-borne diseases.

Between February and August 2024, a joint study by Newcastle University and the Palestinian Environmental NGOs Network uncovered alarming levels of contamination in Gaza’s soil and water. Their tests on landfill sites revealed both total and faecal coliform bacteria, clear evidence that untreated sewage and toxic runoff have seeped into the groundwater that people rely on.

A separate Water, Sanitation and Hygiene (WASH) survey painted an even grimmer picture: at least 87% of the population live within just ten metres of raw sewage or faecal waste. This daily exposure leaves communities facing not only grave health risks but also long-term damage to their already fragile environment.

The United Nations Environmental Programme (UNEP) has warned that Gaza’s coastal aquifer, the main source of groundwater, is on the brink of irreversible collapse. Salinisation and sewage infiltration have rendered much of the aquifer undrinkable, endangering not only human survival, but also agriculture. Water has been turned into a weapon of war.

For those who have endured relentless bombings, the suffering is made worse by a water crisis – many are forced to drink unsafe water, while others don’t have enough, said Paula Navarro, Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF) water and sanitation coordinator.

Soil without life

More than 86% of Gaza’s agricultural land have been destroyed with only 1.5% accessible and not damaged.

Orchards of olive and citrus trees, tended by families for generations, have been bulldozed or burned. Irrigation wells have been bombed, leaving the soil either dry or poisoned.

For farmers, the devastation is not only material, but spiritual. For Palestinians, olive trees are passed down through generations, are a symbol of heritage, a connection to the land.

Scientists warn that contamination from white phosphorus, heavy metals, asbestos, and other hazardous materials have seeped into the soil, threatening future harvests and impacting food security.

UNEP reported that soil was significantly contaminated with total petroleum hydrocarbons (TPH) and aliphatic hydrocarbons, levels which surpassed the threshold requiring intervention.

A report in the American Journal of Public Health warns that crops grown in Gaza may carry harmful levels of toxicity for years, and possibly decades to come, raising deep concerns about the long-term safety of food supply and its impact on human health.

Air that kills

The air over Gaza is filled with toxins. Clouds of dust hang over neighbourhoods filled with asbestos, pulverised gas, and chemicals from explosives.

UNEP estimates that more than 39m tonnes of hazardous rubble fill the Strip. Breathing this dust carries risks of cancer, chronic illness that will impact survivors for decades to come.

Researchers have also measured the war’s invisible toll on the climate. In the first three months of the bombardment, greenhouse gas emissions exceeded the annual output of 26 countries, producing between 400,000 and 600,000 of CO2.

The study, led by Frederik Out-Larbi and colleagues, found that the first 60 days alone, 281,000 tonnes of CO2 were emitted, more than the yearly footprint of 20 nations.

Rebuilding Gaza, if it’s ever allowed, could itself generate more emissions than 135 entire countries produce in a year. This war has caused an environmental catastrophe with irreversible consequences to the region and beyond.

Debris, waste, sewage and disease

Waste has become another weapon. Bombing has destroyed 70% of sewage pumps and wastewater treatment plants. Untreated sewage now seeps into streets, farmland, and the sea.

Piles and piles of uncollected garbage attract disease-carrying insects. Medical waste, hazardous chemicals, and munition debris further poison the land, water, and the population of Gaza.

The result is an environmental and public health disaster. Outbreaks of diarrhoea 25 higher than before the war, a resurgence of polio, surging cases of scabies, lice, and respiratory infections. Disease, like hunger, is part of this environmental war.

Epidemics don’t respect borders and disease spreading from Gaza threatens the wider region and beyond.

The environmental catastrophe taking place in Gaza won’t disappear with a ceasefire. Aquifers poisoned with sewage can’t be stored overnight. Children will inhale asbestos fibres today may not show symptoms for decades. Fields covered with phosphorus may take generations to heal.

Ecocide as elimination

Human rights groups, environmental scientists, and UN agencies argue that Gaza’s environmental destruction isn’t a tragic accident.

Al Mezan Centre for Human Rights has documented how Israel’s military systematically targets environmental infrastructure: water pipelines, reservoirs, sewage plants. Their 2024 report calls it by its name: ecocide.

The logic is as cruel as it’s clear: destroy the environment and you destroy the conditions for life. Turn water into poison, farmland into ash, air into a weapon, and survival becomes impossible. International law recognises this.

The Genocide Convention lists the creation of living conditions intended to destroy an entire population as an act of genocide. In Gaza, ecocide and genocide are intertwined.

This is Gaza’s catastrophe, and unless named for what it truly is, a crime against the environment and humanity, it risks being forgotten beneath the rubble.

Breeding grounds for the next pandemic

Monica Piccinini

2 October 2025

Across the globe, zoonotic and vector-borne diseases (ZVBDs), illnesses that jump from animals to humans, either through direct contact or via carriers such as mosquitoes, have increased significantly over the past few decades, claiming millions of lives each year.

An estimated 75% of all newly emerging infectious diseases, along with more than 60% of all human pathogens, are spread from animals.

Mosquito-borne diseases alone put more than 80% of the global population at risk. Their spread threatens not only public health, but also the world economy.

Even before COVID-19 shut down economies and filled hospitals, emerging infectious diseases were costing the world over $1tn a year. The pandemic made those costs painfully visible, but did not create the problem, it exposed it.

Since 2003, outbreaks and pandemics have taken more than 15m lives and drained approximately $4tn from the global economy.

A study published in One Earth, a sustainability journal from Cell Press, warns that this crisis is no accident. Deforestation, climate change, and environmental degradation are creating the perfect storm for pathogens to thrive and spread.

The lead author of the study, Raquel L. Carvalho, warns about the risks in Europe associated with vector-borne diseases:

Europe is increasingly becoming a favourable environment for mosquito-borne diseases, as prolonged summers, elevated temperatures, and heavier rainfall create conditions in which mosquito populations can establish and spread in regions where they had previously been unable to survive.

Drivers

Since the 1940s, changes in how humans use land, cutting down forests, expanding agribusiness, and pushing deeper into wild areas, have been linked to more than one-third of all new infectious diseases.

Climate change is creating conditions where mosquitoes, ticks, and pathogens flourish. Rising temperatures extend mosquito breeding seasons and allow disease-carrying insects to spread into places where winters once kept them at bay.

Meanwhile, deforestation and land-use changes bring humans into closer contact with wild animals, increasing the odds of a spillover event. Poverty and weak healthcare systems magnify the danger, turning exposure into tragedy.

According to a study published in the International Journal of Emergency Medicine, climate change is also disrupting food production and supply, creating conditions that allow harmful microbes and toxins to thrive, while extreme weather and rising temperatures increase the risk of foodborne illnesses, such as Salmonella and E. coli.

Out of control

Recently, we’ve seen a sharp increase in the spread of diseases caused by parasites, viruses and bacteria, including dengue, Zika, chikungunya, Oropouche, malaria, Lyme disease, among others.

The spread of Oropouche fever, transmitted by the tiny Culicoides paraensis mosquito, popularly called maruim, is another alarming sign.

According to the Pan American Health Organisation (PAHO), in 2025, 12,786 confirmed Oropouche cases were reported in the Americas region, including over 11,888 cases in Brazil.

In Brazil, Oropouche outbreaks originated in the AMACRO region (deforestation hotspot named after the states of Amazonas, Acre, and Rondônia) and have already spread across the country to the state of Espírito Santo, with 6,322 recorded cases in 2025, and across the world.

The Amazon rainforest is considered one of the world’s largest reservoirs of zoonotic diseases. Many scientists have repeatedly cautioned that environmental disruptions are driving the rise of infectious diseases and have highlighted the imminent risk of a lethal pathogen originating from the region.

Joel Henrique Ellwanger, biologist and researcher at the department of genetics at the Federal University of Rio Grande do Sul (UFRGS), said:

Climate change will trigger important ecological changes in the Amazon, many of them with the potential to reduce its biodiversity, facilitating the spread of known disease vectors and increasing the chances of new diseases emerging.

The research

A study, conducted by Raquel L. Carvalho, professor at the University of São Paulo (USP), and her team, analysed 312 papers that addressed 39 different diseases in 79 countries. Much of this work focuses on the pathogens themselves or the insects and animals that transmit them. In contrast, far fewer studies consider who’s exposed or why some groups are more vulnerable once exposed.

Carvalho highlighted gaps in existing research:

Only 7.4% of the studies looked at the full picture: hazard, exposure, and vulnerability. Studying where mosquitoes live might show potential danger, but it doesn’t reveal who is most at risk, or why certain communities are more likely to fall ill.

Diseases like dengue fever, the West Nile virus, and leptospirosis thrive not only because mosquitoes and rodents are abundant, but also because people live in poor housing without proper sanitation, or because climate change drives mosquitoes into new regions.

If these human and environmental factors are ignored, predictions of where and when outbreaks will happen will always likely fail.

Most studies carried out come from the United States, China, and Europe, while tropical regions, where the risks of diseases are greatest, remain under-studied. Brazil and Kenya stand out as exceptions, but vast regions of Africa, South America, and Asia are left with little attention.

The places most likely to produce the next pandemic are also the least prepared to prevent it.

Building a better response

The researchers of the study explain that prevention requires a more complete picture of the risks, meaning the combination of ecological data with human and social realities.

Poverty, education, housing, and access to healthcare are as important as climate change and land use.

For example, in East Africa, malaria was mapped out more effectively when researchers combined mosquito data with measures of poverty and healthcare. In New York, Lyme disease predictions improved when scientists considered both tick abundance and human behaviour. Understanding hazard, exposure, and vulnerability together gives us tools for prevention.

Carvalho points out that tackling the threat won’t be easy, but insists that stronger monitoring and international cooperation are key:

It’s clear that there’s no obvious solution, but stronger surveillance systems, especially in disease hotspots, can act as an early-warning radar.

Cross-border scientific cooperation can ensure that no region is left behind. Additionally, the One Health approach, recognising that human, animal, and environmental health are interconnected, must guide every decision.

Communities living in poverty, the ones closest to the frontlines of environmental change, are the first to suffer. If we continue to ignore the full complexity of disease risk, we condemn these vulnerable populations to pay a high cost, while leaving the rest of the world exposed.

The COVID-19 pandemic taught us a lesson, showed us the cost of being unprepared. The next pandemic could be much worse, driven by climate extremes and ecological disruption.

The line between environmental neglect and human suffering is very thin. It shouldn’t be hard to understand that our health depends on the health of our planet, one protects the other.

Amazon burning: The road behind the smoke

Monica Piccinini

26 September 2025

In October 2023, Manaus vanished behind a suffocating wall of smoke. The capital of Amazonas woke up to one of the worst air pollution crises the Amazon has ever seen.

The sky turned the colour of ash, more like a dystopian film set than the world’s largest tropical forest. The air grew so heavy and toxic that residents dug out their old COVID masks just to breathe.

For weeks, the population of Manaus, over two million people, endured a suffocating haze, with pollution so severe it matched, and at times exceeded, the levels of the world’s dirtiest megacities.

A disaster

The Amazon has always swung between wet and dry seasons, but in 2023, things aligned in the worst possible way. An El Niño in the Pacific collided with an Atlantic dipole, a pattern of warmer water in the north Atlantic and cooler water in the south. The result was a brutal drought priming the forest to burn.

Burning forests release smoke filled with microscopic particles (PM2.5), which act strangely in the atmosphere: instead of forming raindrops large enough to fall, they create tiny droplets that just hang there. In other words, smoke keeps rain from falling, drought drags on, and more fires ignite.

According to study published in the Discover Sustainability journal, on October 12, 2023, air quality monitors in Manaus registered PM2.5 levels of 314 micrograms a cubic metre (µg/m3), more than twenty times the World Health Organisation’s safety limit.

To put it into perspective, that number beat even Delhi’s infamous pollution peaks that year. For a city like Manaus, accustomed to relatively clean air, it was like being plunged into a health emergency overnight.

The smoke crisis in Manaus happened under President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva’s government.

Health hazard

We often think of water and food as our most basic needs, but we take in far more air every day, about 14 kilograms of it, compared to just 2 kilograms of water and 1.5 kilograms of food. Every breath in Manaus during the crisis was filled with toxins.

The dangers of prolonged exposure to polluted air the population of Manaus were under, which can cut months, even years, off life expectancy. Doctors have long warned that breathing PM2.5 damages the lungs, strains the heart, and weakens the immune systems.

In the Amazon, the crisis landed hardest on children, the elderly, and people already living with fragile health. What should have been a season of heat and river breezes, turned into weeks of coughing, burning eyes, and the smell of ash.

Who lit the match?

At first, state officials, including the governor of Amazonas, Wilson Lima, and the state’s secretary of the environment, were quick to blame the neighbouring state of Pará as the source of fires, but the study and its data tell a different story.

The study revealed that satellite imagery, air quality sensors, and field inspections identified the southern area of Manaus, particularly the municipalities of Autazes, Careiro, and Manaquiri, located along the BR-319 and AM-254 highways, as the main sources of smoke emissions.

Vast areas of forest weren’t lost to accident; they were burned on purpose to make way for cattle pasture. After the fires, bulldozers moved in, water buffalo spread across the fresh clearings, and illegal side roads crept further into once-intact rainforest.

The lead author of the study, Lucas Ferrante, a researcher at the University of São Paulo (USP) and the Federal University of Amazonas (UFAM), mentioned:

This study shows that Brazil is heading in the opposite direction of its commitments for COP30, with millions of tons of emissions turning Manaus into a city under smoke. The forest is burning while public officials such as the governor of Amazonas, Wilson Lima, deflect attention away from the fires, even as they endorse laws that benefit those who use fire to clear land and illegally expand cattle ranching.

Fires weren’t just an unfortunate by-product of drought; they were tools in a land-grabbing playbook.

BR-319: the road that lights the fire

At the heart of the crisis lies the BR-319 highway, linking the capital of Amazonas, Manaus, to the capital of Rondônia, Porto Velho. 

First built in the 1970’s, abandoned in the 1980’s, the road is now at the heart of a heated debate: should it be rebuilt and paved?

Supporters call the reconstruction of the BR-319 highway development, but critics call it destruction.

Studies show that deforestation rates within 40km of the BR-319 are already more than double the Amazon average. The mere promise of reconstruction of the highway has triggered waves of illegal occupation.

If fully rebuilt, the BR-319 would connect Manaus, still surrounded by vast intact forest, to the “arc of deforestation” further south, dragging the chaos of frontier expansion straight to the heart of the central Amazon.

Supporters argue that paving the road is about development and connection, but the evidence suggests otherwise. More roads mean more illegal side roads, more land grabbing, more illicit activities, more fire, and more smoke choking cities like Manaus.

Ferrante highlighted the lack of coordination and accountability among different levels of government in addressing the issue. He stressed that the situation reveals deep contradictions in Brazil’s leadership on climate and infrastructure:

There is no effective command or control, and negligence is evident across municipal, state, and federal authorities. Right now, President Lula is paving ‘Lot C’ – a 52-kilometer section of the BR-319 highway – without environmental studies or licensing, a contradictory move for someone who presents himself as a climate leader.

The 2023 smoke crisis wasn’t an isolated event; it was a warning that what’s to come if this road is allowed to go ahead.

A governance failure

Beyond the weather patterns and the bulldozers, what really fuelled the smoke crisis was weak governance.

State and federal authorities failed to act quickly and effectively. Requests for federal help came late, long after the skies had turned toxic. Local agencies looked the other way and cattle ranchers carved up Indigenous lands. Instead of tackling the root cause, some leaders doubled down on roadbuilding and laws that make it easier to legalised deforestation after the fact.

For the people of Manaus, this went beyond politics, it was personal, a reminder that failures in policy ultimately reach the the very air they breathe.

Beyond Manaus

It’s easy to view Manaus’ smoke crisis as a purely local issue, but the Amazon is interconnected, and its problems resonate far beyond one city.

The forest generates moisture that flow south, the so called “flying rivers”, feeding crops, rivers, and water reservoirs across Brazil and beyond. Its role in stabilising climate is critical.

Burning and replacing the forest with pasture in the BR-319 region threatens all of that, risking tipping the central and western Amazon toward ecological collapse, accelerating biodiversity loss already driven by climate change. It also compromises the water and climate systems that millions of Brazilians, and the world, rely on.

A shift in mindset is required, away from the idea that roads equal progress, and toward a vision where the Amazon’s values lie in its standing forest, flowing rivers, and thriving communities.

A warning

The 2023 smoke crisis was a warning, an unforgettable sign of what happens when climate extremes, fire, and governance failures collide.

It showed that the reconstruction of the BR-319 highway isn’t just an infrastructure project, it’s an environmental gamble with stakes that include public health, biodiversity, and climate stability.

The people of Manaus, who lived under toxic skies, deserve better leadership and policies that protect their air, their health, and their future.

The Amazon, often called the lungs of the planet, but in 2023, those lungs wheezed. The question now is whether Brazil, and the world, will take the warning seriously, or whether we’ll allow the next crisis to arrive, heavier, darker, and harder to breathe through.

Amazon’s oxygen crisis used to support the BR-319 highway revival

Monica Piccinini

14 September 2025

The disastrous management of the coronavirus (Covid-19) pandemic by way of an oxygen crisis is now being used as an excuse to support the revival of highway BR-319.

In early 2021, as the second wave of COVID-19 pandemic ravaged the Brazilian city of Manaus, families watched their loved ones die, gasping for air.

Hospitals ran out of oxygen. The world saw heartbreaking scenes of people begging for help, and many asked: how could this happen?

In January 2021, a doctor working at Hospital Universitário Getúlio Vargas (HUGV-Ufam), who wished to remain anonymous, said

The current situation is chaotic throughout the city and the entire health service. My colleagues have said that in some emergency rooms the situation is simply surreal. They must choose who lives and who dies and deal with a terrible physical and emotional overload.

Manaus, the capital of Amazonas, became the face of a national failure to protect its citizens during a public health emergency. But even during this human catastrophe, a different kind of campaign was unfolding, one not about saving lives, but about paving roads.

Amazon’s BR-319 highway, an 885km abandoned military-era road cutting through the Amazon rainforest connecting Manaus and Porto Velho, was quickly pulled into political discourse.

Supporters, including members of Brazil’s conservative bloc, claimed that the oxygen crisis highlighted the critical need to rebuild the BR-319 highway to ensure that medical supplies could reach Manaus without delay during future emergencies.

However, studies and expert testimony reveal a far more troubling reality: the oxygen crisis has been used as pretext to advance an infrastructure project that could accelerate deforestation, degradation, weaken Indigenous land protections, and cause irreversible damage to one of the most biodiverse regions on Earth.

The real roots of the crisis

A 2023 study published in the Journal of Racial and Ethnic Health Disparities exposed the deeper causes behind the collapse of healthcare in Manaus.

The tragedy was not merely the result of an aggressive and highly contagious COVID-19 variant, it was a disaster long anticipated and driven by years of systemic neglect.

Federal and state governments disregarded epidemiological warnings and scientific evidence, failed to coordinate effectively, and perpetuated a long-standing pattern of underinvesting in the Amazon region’s fragile health infrastructure.

Notably, the absence of a road link via the BR-319 was not identified as a decisive factor. Instead, the study revealed a critical failure in logistical decision-making during the oxygen crisis.

Authorities opted to use the treacherous and nearly impassable BR-319 highway to transport life-saving oxygen, ignoring faster, more reliable options like the Madeira River or military aircraft.

This catastrophic choice, made by the minister of infrastructure under Tarcísio de Freitas, and the minister of health under Eduardo Pazuello, cost irreplaceable time and countless lives.

Even more damning, the Amazonas state government had been warned well in advance.

As early as six months before the crisis, researchers raised the alarm, four separate times, beginning with a technical report commissioned by the state’s public ministry.

By November 2020, officials were fully aware that oxygen supplies would fall dangerously short. Despite the lead time and the mounting evidence, they chose not to act.

This was not a crisis that took anyone by surprise, it was a catastrophe shaped by silence, denial, and a failure to protect the most vulnerable.

Lucas Ferrante, researcher at the University of São Paulo (USP) and the Federal University of Amazonas (UFAM), who had long warned the authorities of an approaching second wave of COVID-19, said:

The convergence of misinformation, political negligence, and escalating deforestation exposes how infrastructure projects in the Amazon are being driven by deceit, through fabricated narratives, data manipulation, and the deliberate distortion of public policy to advance anti-democratic and anti-Indigenous agendas.

This case also carries profound political weight: Tarcísio Freitas, a front-runner among the far-right candidates in the upcoming presidential elections, is directly implicated in this public health disaster, underscoring how state resources are being weaponised to serve narrow economic ambitions and ideological extremism.

Political opportunism

The political exploitation of this tragedy quickly became evident.

Jair Bolsonaro, Brazil’s far-right president at the time, along with his congressional allies, seized on the oxygen crisis as an opportunity, not to confront the public health failure, but to advance a long-standing agenda.

They framed the reconstruction of the BR-319 not as the ecological threat it truly is, but as a humanitarian necessity, portraying the highway as a lifeline rather than an ecological disaster it truly represents.

Despite urgent and well-documented warnings from the scientific community, many political and business leaders in the region continue to use the memory of the oxygen crisis as justification to push forward the BR-319 project.

Among the strong advocates of this argument is Senator Omar Aziz. On May 27, he posted on X:

The BR-319 is not just a road; it is the artery that should connect Amazonas and Roraima to the rest of Brazil. During the pandemic, we’ve experienced firsthand what it means to be isolated, without oxygen, without supplies, without help. It’s unacceptable that, due to bureaucracy and rhetoric so far removed from our reality, we remain hostage to abandonment.

Senator Plínio Valério has also repeatedly referred to the tragedy to support reconstruction. On May 30, he wrote on Instagram:

During the pandemic in 2021, trucks loaded with oxygen got stuck on unpaved stretches of the BR-319. Meanwhile, people died from lack of air in Manaus hospitals. This road is not a luxury. It’s a necessity. It’s the right to come and go.

Senator Eduardo Braga similarly used the oxygen crisis to reinforce the case for the BR-319. In February, he posted:

The BR-319 isn’t just a road; it’s a pathway to the development of our Amazonas state. I know well how essential this highway is to reduce the cost of living, strengthening our economy, and ensuring the safety and quality of life of our people.

During the pandemic, we witnessed the tragedy of the oxygen crisis. Trucks loaded with cylinders got stuck in the mud on the BR-319, while our people suffered and lives were lost.

More than a practical solution, the BR-319 has become a political tool, strongly supported by powerful figures, including the governor of Amazonas, Wilson Lima.

However, it’s the mayor of Manaus, David Almeida, who has actively invoked the oxygen crisis to defend the highway’s reconstruction.

But the dangers of the BR-319 are not abstract. Rebuilding the highway would cut through some of the most pristine regions of the Amazon, exposing vast areas to illegal logging, mining, land grabbing, organised crime, rampant deforestation and degradation. The resulting destruction would be both immediate and irreversible.

According to several articles, the BR-319 project would provide access to one of the largest zoonotic reservoirs on the planet, which may lead to public health crises much greater than that experienced in Manaus.

Scientists warn that the highway would open a dangerous front in the ongoing assault on the rainforest. It would fracture delicate and vital ecosystems and threat Indigenous and traditional communities who rely on the forest.

A call for integrity

The attempt to link the oxygen crisis with the BR-319 highway is a textbook example of a crisis being weaponised for political and economic gain. It reduces a multifaceted public health failure to a simplistic infrastructure problem, while ignoring the overwhelming scientific consensus about the environmental, social, health, and economic costs of the road.

Rather than investing in sustainable river transport and bolstering public health infrastructure across the Amazon, Brazil’s political elite has opted for a shortcut, one that paves the way not to resilience, but to ruin.

Manaus did not run out of oxygen because of the lack of a highway. It ran out because of political negligence, poor planning, and the failure to prioritise the lives of Amazonian people.

The BR-319 highway, far from being a solution, is a looming ecological disaster disguised as humanitarian aid.

To truly honour the memory of those who died gasping for breath, Brazil must resist the urge to pave over its mistakes with asphalt, and instead pursue policies rooted in science, sustainability, and respect for the Amazon’s irreplaceable role in our planet’s health.

Biotech’s brave new world

Monica Piccinini

30 August 2025

Biotechnology isn’t just something locked away in high-tech labs anymore, it’s starting to touch almost every part of our lives. From the food on our plates to the medicine in our cabinets, the fabrics we wear, and even the microbes that keep our water clean, it’s quietly shaping the world around us.

The progress is speeding up, too. Making DNA is way cheaper than it used to be, AI can dream up new ideas in hours, and small groups of researchers are pulling off things that used to take entire governments to achieve.

Of course, big power brings big responsibility. The same tools that can fight disease and help with global problems could, if misused or mishandled, unleash risks we’re only beginning to understand. Biotech is no longer just science; it’s a force that’s starting to rewrite what life looks like.

The upside

Synthetic biology, the engineering of living systems, has already delivered COVID-19 vaccines at record speed, new cancer therapies, and precision diagnostics. Beyond healthcare, engineered microbes are producing fragrances, materials, and even designer enzymes that break down plastics.

The UN’s Scientific Advisory Board stresses these benefits are real and scalable, provided countries invest in governance that keeps pace with innovation.

Industrial biotech is driving change too, like tweaking microbial methods that could potentially replace petrochemical processes with cleaner, lower-emission approaches.

Experts predict the economic impact of bio-based products will expand rapidly this decade as laboratory design cycles shrinks from years to just months.

The global biotechnology market is projected to reach around $3.44tn by 2030.

The downside

Powerful technology needs rules. A report published in the International Institute for Strategic Studies (IISS) warns of three major risks in modern biotech: bringing back dangerous viruses from published genetic sequences; making existing organisms more harmful; and creating microbes that produce deadly toxins.

These risks are growing as biotech becomes cheaper and more automated. According to the report, tools that were once limited to experts are spreading more widely, safety barriers are weakening, and regulations designed for older forms of biotechnology are struggling to keep up.

The danger isn’t just from intentional misuse. Even well-meaning experiments can go wrong.

For example, a microbe engineered to clean up oil spills could escape and start eating essential plants or animals instead. Or a genetic tool meant to wipe out malaria-carrying mosquitoes (gene drives) could disrupt entire ecosystems in ways we can’t predict.

In biology, control is never guaranteed: life adapts, mutates, and can slip past safeguards.

The most powerful nations are likely to capitalise on their strategic advantages to exploit emerging biotechnologies and the markets they create in pursuit of geopolitical objectives.

This dynamic is further complicated by intellectual property concerns, as control over patents and proprietary technologies can deepen global inequalities and limit access for less-advantaged countries.

Another concern is that genome editing, when applied to fertilised human embryos to address severe genetic disorders, could produce harmful effects, such as the activation of cancer genes or the inactivation of tumour-suppressor genes. Furthermore, there are worries that the broader use of gene editing could pave the way for eugenics.

The CRISPR-Cas9 system is the leading tool for gene editing. It directs the Cas9 enzyme to a precise DNA sequence, where it makes a cut, allowing scientists to fix mutations, add new genes, or turn off unwanted ones.

CRISPR pioneer, Jennifer Doudna, mentioned in her book, A Crack in Creation:

The power to control our species genetic future is awesome and terrifying. Deciding how to handle it may be the biggest challenge we have ever faced.

“Mirror life”: Building biology’s inverse

One of the most radical ideas in synthetic biology is “mirror life”, organisms built from the opposite versions of life’s usual building blocks. Instead of the left-handed amino acids that make up all known proteins, these organisms would use right-handed ones, creating a form of life that runs in reverse.

Scientists warn that such mirror organisms could slip past predators and even immune systems, and prove impossible to break down, posing serious danger to humans, animals, plants, and the environment, if they escaped into the wild, whether by accident or design.

Dr Kate Adamala, a synthetic biologist at the University of Minnesota, highlights the potential risks of mirror life:

The danger with mirror life is that it wouldn’t interact with the natural world the way other engineered organisms do. Normal synthetic cells can still be controlled by predators or viruses, but mirror cells would escape those checks and balances.

If these organisms interacted with normal molecules or spread through soil and food chains, the effects could be unpredictable and permanent.

That’s why many ethicists and policymakers are urging strict containment, or even a temporary ban, until society decides if it’s ready to experiment with an entirely new form of life.

Given the potential for mirror organisms to evade both immunity and existing treatments, Dr Adamala cautions that the technology could be deliberately weaponised, highlighting the need for strict safeguards:

Halting research now is the most effective way to prevent mirror life from being weaponised in the future.

We are still far from creating a mirror cell, achieving it would take a decade or more, require the coordinated effort of many experts, and depend on technologies that don’t yet exist. At present, it’s simply impossible for anyone to weaponise this technology.

Dr Adamala highlights a major victory in bioethics:

All key researchers capable of creating mirror life have agreed to halt their work. While there’s no international regulation or law enforcing this, the fact that no known actor with the expertise is moving forward is a remarkable achievement.

AI + Biotech

Artificial intelligence (AI) is making waves in biotechnology. Advanced AI systems, known as foundation models, can suggest new protein designs, fine-tune metabolic processes, and even guide people with limited lab experience through complex experiments.

For scientists, this is a game-changer, but it also raises new security concerns.

Experts warn that these AI-powered tools could make it easier for someone to create dangerous biological agents or bypass safety checks when ordering DNA online.

Security think tanks recommend measures such as mandatory DNA sequence screening, human oversight for sensitive orders, and rigorous testing of AI systems to prevent them from producing harmful outputs.

Meanwhile, researchers developing synthetic cells, from scratch rather than by modifying existing organisms, stress the importance of responsible practices.

They advocate for transparency, publishing safety measures alongside scientific advances, and designing experiments that prioritise safety, even before breakthrough discoveries are made.

Dr Adamala points out that AI can now help design proteins and run complex experiments, raising new questions about safety and misuse:

AI is speeding up experiments and could eventually lower the expertise needed in synthetic biology. Right now, harmful work still requires deep knowledge, but as AI develops, it may let less-experienced people perform complex experiments. That’s where the real risk lies, and safeguarding efforts will need to keep pace.

Safeguards might not be enough

Scientists have proposed a range of safeguards to make biotechnology safer, but it’s far from risk-free.

Their proposed safeguards fall into four main areas: checking DNA orders so dangerous genes don’t reach labs, designing organisms with “kill switches” that make them die outside controlled settings, testing new organisms carefully, first in labs, then in small outdoor trials, before any broader release, and setting up training and reporting systems to catch accidents early.

These measures are important, but none can guarantee safety.

DNA checks can miss cleverly modified sequences. Kill switches can fail. Lab tests and small trials can’t predict every real-world outcome. And human error, whether from oversight, cost-cutting, or simple mistakes, remains the most unpredictable factor of all.

Experts warn that the risks go beyond accidents. A malicious actor doesn’t need to create a superbug from scratch; they could exploit gaps in DNA screening or release a partially tested organism.

Even without ill intent, the race to commercialise new biotech can tempt startups to downplay risks, while governments often struggle to keep up with rapid innovation.

The potential consequences are huge: released organisms could disrupt ecosystems, public trust in biotech could crumble, and engineered pathogens could even spark global instability.

Unlike chemical or nuclear hazards, biological threats can spread, evolve, and multiply meaning a single misstep could have far-reaching effects for generations.

Is the juice worth the squeeze?

The breakthroughs promised by biotechnology are real, including faster vaccines and cleaner industries. These could help address some of the greatest challenges of our century.

But the risks are equally real, and they do not stop at borders.

An engineered pathogen released in one country can spread globally in weeks. A poorly tested organism introduced into one ecosystem can ripple across continents.

That is why many experts caution that the question is not whether biotech’s “juice” is worth the squeeze, but whether the world is prepared to squeeze responsibly.

National laws and voluntary guidelines are not enough in a field where DNA can be ordered online, and experiments can be done in almost any laboratory.

What’s missing is a robust international regulatory framework: international rules for DNA screening, common standards for biosafety, rapid reporting channels for accidents, and enforcement mechanisms strong enough to stop reckless or malicious use.

Without this kind of shared oversight, the positives of biotechnology could be overshadowed by the first major failure, whether through accident, negligence, or intent.

On the challenges of global oversight in mirror life research, Dr Adamala observes:

There is currently no enforceable international framework for biological safeguards of mirror life research. The Biological Weapons Convention (BWC) is limited, and given the current political climate, I believe state-level efforts are more practical than pursuing broad international treaties.

Safety in the “bio age

Biotechnology is no longer just something that happens in labs. It’s shaping how we grow food, treat diseases, and run industries. Many people are excited about its potential to fight hunger, cure illnesses, and make our systems stronger and more reliable.

But others are more cautious. Changing life at such a basic level brings risks we can’t always predict, no matter how many rules we set. The same tools that offer big breakthroughs, like genetic engineering, also raise serious concerns.

As biotechnology moves forward, the challenges aren’t just about science anymore. They’re about choices and ethics. In the end, what matters most may not be how far we can push the science, but how wisely we decide to use it.