What the COP30 climate summit in the Amazon delivered for forests and Indigenous people
Brazil insisted on hosting this year’s COP30 climate summit in the Amazonian city of Belem to put rainforests at the heart of negotiations on how to curb global warming.
But as delegates from almost every country concluded tense talks under the rainforest’s humid heat, the outcome for trees and their guardians, though unprecedented, was bittersweet.
Tropical Forests, Forever?
As the host of this year’s UN climate treaty negotiations and home to most of the Amazon tropical rainforest, Brazil led a major advance for forests and their indigenous inhabitants called the Tropical Forest Forever Facility. The new $125 billion fund, with guarantees for investors, will send its profits to countries with documented forest preservation, including some cash going directly to indigenous and local populations. Michael Coe, a senior scientist at the Woodwell Climate Research Center who was at COP30, joins Hosts Steve Curwood and Jenni Doering to explain why forest protection is a vital piece of stabilizing the climate.
Listen or read more on Living on Earth.
September 2025— On the shores of Lago Caracaranã, deep in the Brazilian State of Roraima, a group of Indigenous brigadistas gather around printed paper maps. They have come to this lakeside meeting place from their territories across the state and beyond to learn about maps from Dr. Ray Pinheiro Alves, a research analyst at the Amazon Environmental Research Institute (IPAM). Alves directs each woman to a map of their own territory, completely unlabeled. He hands them drawing supplies, and within moments the brigadistas have oriented perfectly to the map, tracing familiar rivers, home sites, and landmarks from memory.
Roraima is Brazil’s northernmost state. It straddles the equator, and contains both native sweeping grasslands like those around Caracaranã and misty, mountainous stretches of the Amazon rainforest. It is remote, and sometimes disconnected from the rest of the country, yet experiencing the same encroachment from agriculture and illegal mining, and the same increase in destructive fires that often follow in the wake of deforestation. Which is why the Indigenous fire-fighting brigades here are eager to pick up new tools that could help them manage and protect their forests and homes.
Alves believes maps should be one of those tools. He, along with Woodwell Climate research scientist, Dr. Manoela Machado, has been spearheading a series of workshops designed to help Indigenous fire brigades build the skills of cartography and geographic information systems (GIS). Strong GIS knowledge allows fire crews to make use of data to guide decisions about both on- and off-season fire management activities— both of which will become more critical as the climate warms and fire becomes more prevalent and difficult to control.
Brazil’s fiery landscape
It is supposed to be raining in Roraima right now, but the winter has been dry this year. Climate change has been elongating dry seasons in many regions of the country, increasing the time that ecosystems are prone to burning.
In the Amazon, fires are set intentionally as a part of the deforestation process. Land grabbers use fire to clear the piled vegetation that was cut to make way for cattle ranching, which later will be converted to cropland. With climate shifts, these fires are now more likely to escape into drier and weakened surrounding forests. In Central Brazil, the savana and seasonal wetland ecosystems of the Cerrado and Pantanal have co-evolved with varying levels of frequency and intensity of fire. But prolonged drought and rising temperatures have turned fire seasons into crisis seasons.
Indigenous communities across Brazil have used fire for millennia, working with the ecosystem to promote culturally important species. With climate change extending fire seasons, traditional calendars are also shifting, as the time available for safe burning shrinks. Communities are also facing incursions into their territories from runaway fires ignited on nearby farms.
The world got a taste of the scope of the crisis in 2019 when, during an already record-breaking summer of fire, land grabbers in the Amazon intentionally set so many fires in a single day that the smoke traveled to the City of São Paulo hundreds of miles away.
“The sky in São Paulo became dark at 3pm. And then the world started paying attention to fires in the Amazon,” says Machado. Protecting Brazil’s forests from fire, especially the carbon-rich Amazon rainforest, became a much higher priority for the international community.
Brazil has an extensive wildland fire fighting system, composed of both official and voluntary brigades, supported by various government agencies to operate across private lands, protected public lands, and Indigenous territories. Amidst the increased urgency to quell fires, Machado was interested in understanding what brigades at different jurisdiction levels might need to be more effective during crisis months. She herself has extensive expertise in geospatial software and analysis and wondered whether organizations like Woodwell Climate and IPAM could help by providing data on terrain, weather patterns, vegetation type, and other field-relevant information.
So Machado and Senior Scientist Dr. Marcia Macedo, conducted a needs assessment of the firefighting system to identify what analyses might be most useful.
“The answer was a little bit different, depending on who we were talking to,” says Macedo. “But when we spoke to the Indigenous fire brigades, one of the things that came out right away was not just a desire for spatial data, but for training in spatial analysis. They wanted to be able to work with the data the same way we did.”
Two ways of knowing the land
For the Indigenous communities of Brazil, maps aren’t needed for navigating their territory the way Google Maps might be for someone walking in unfamiliar lands.
“The Indigenous peoples of Brazil have a great understanding of their territory,” says Alves. “We show them an image and they recognize some river or some landmark. They can see it immediately in the satellite view.”
Instead, geospatial data offers another way of communicating their innate knowledge of the land. For the Indigenous fire brigades Machado and Macedo spoke with, the ability to use the same GIS tools that scientists use, and make maps the way a government agency like Brazil’s Institute of the Environment and Renewable Natural Resources (IBAMA) might, is invaluable to advocating for themselves in non-Indigenous spaces.
“To be able to make their own maps can strengthen their autonomy to make decisions, and [aid in] dialogs with people about public policies,” says Alves.
Machado worked with Alves to develop the curriculum for a series of workshops that would help teach the foundations of GIS to fire brigade members from Indigenous territories across Brazil. The first was held in Brasília in 2022, and three more have followed since, the class in Roraima most recently.
Each workshop begins with the basics—latitude and longitude, hemispheres, projections. Alves is a natural teacher, and makes use of props, metaphors, and activities like drawing on the printed maps to make the concepts feel more tangible.
On later days of the workshop, as participants get familiar with QGIS, a free map-making software, Alves sometimes adapts the suggested curriculum to the needs of the communities in attendance.
“For example, in one class we were presenting topographic maps, and they said ‘this is really, really, useful for us,’” says Alves. “So we changed that part of the course to solve for the question they were dealing with.”
By the end of the course, participants have successfully created maps relevant to their own territories. Seeing their own homes represented in map form, Machado says, connects them more strongly to the material.
“You could see the pride on their face,” Machado says. “They recognize every element of that map because they built it. They made each decision of what to show on the map.”
The women’s brigade
Ana Shelley Xerente of the Xerente people had watched her husband work on their territory’s official fire brigade for 13 years before she decided she’d like to try her hand at it as well. Over the years raising her two children, she observed changes occurring in the native Cerrado ecosystem of the Xerente territory—hotter temperatures, drying streams, more fires.
“Nowadays, right after the rain, it’s basically dry,” says Ana Shelley. “All due to climate change.”
She felt a strong duty to protect the environment, and told her husband she’d like to work at Prevfogo, the firefighting arm of Brazil’s Institute of the Environment and Renewable Natural Resources (IBAMA), like him.
“He kept teasing me. ‘There’s no way you could handle that,’” Ana Shelley says. “But I kept talking about it and he came up with the idea of creating a volunteer brigade.”
Volunteer brigades support official brigades, including with that critical non-crisis season prevention work. In 2021, responding to interest from Ana Shelley and others in the territory, Prevfogo and the National Indian Foundation (FUNAI) provided support to start an all-woman volunteer brigade— the first in Brazil. Ana Shelley drove her team of 29 women from village to village, speaking to elders, educating children, re-planting vegetation around headwater streams, and discussing how climate change has affected their traditional calendar for cultural burning.
“We have our own calendar, made by our elders. It marks the rainy season and the dry season, when burning isn’t allowed. So we went through the whole territory, talking to people about what fire brings, the impact it has on humans and animals, and there was a significant reduction [in fires],” Ana Shelley says.
Ana Shelley began to stand out as a leader among the volunteers. In 2024, when her husband left his role as president of the official territory brigade to pursue work with FUNAI, she was asked to fill in for the remainder of his term. At the start of 2025, she was named president for her own four-year term, and has eagerly assumed the responsibility of organizing the activities of 74 Indigenous firefighters, both men and women.
“Everything is new to me, being a brigade chief. And since in our community it’s mostly men who call the shots, it causes an impact, because now the chief is a woman, so it’s all new to them, too,” Ana Shelley says. “I learn a lot from them, and I also share with them what I know. I’m sure it’s going to be challenging, but I also know it’s going to bring a lot of good results.”
Classroom representation
The second GIS workshop was hosted in Ana Shelley’s own territory in Tocantins, but only her husband participated in the course. In fact, midway through the workshop, Machado looked around and wondered why, in a territory with an established brigade of motivated female fire fighters, she was the only woman in the classroom.
Despite not being in operation for as long as the men’s brigades, the brigadistas were eager to perform at the same level. Perhaps, Machado wondered, the workshops could be an opportunity to level the playing field.
She suggested hosting a women’s-only brigade training to encourage their participation, giving women a chance to learn alongside others with similar experiences. The first one took place in Maranhão in June, followed by the one in Roraima.
Macedo says this kind of peer representation is critical to the success of capacity sharing efforts like this one.
“Peer-to-peer teaching and knowledge sharing among people who are living the same reality is almost always more effective than us scientists standing at the front [of a class],” Macedo says.
The brigadistas of Roraima are the clear result of women’s representation on fire brigades, which started in Tocantins with Ana Shelley and has now unfurled across the country. Roraima was the first Brazilian state to formalize all-female fire brigades with the Brigada Pataxibas— a multi-territory collective of female firefighters. During the closing ceremony for the workshop in Roraima a Tuxaua, or elderly community member honored for their wisdom, named Azila stood to point out the bravery of the women assembled, who had accomplished things she never had the opportunity to do in her youth.
Brigade participation has also begun to open doors for women even beyond their territories.
“Some have become teachers, others are in college. It has broadened their horizons. We’ve inspired many women across Brazil,” says Ana Shelley.
According to Machado, the GIS training offers all participants, men and women, the opportunity to tell their own stories on their own terms.
“Maps tell stories,” says Machado. “So the importance of all community members being able to build their own maps is that it allows them to control the narrative. They control how their story is told, instead of waiting for someone else to build a map and tell the story for them.”
The future of fire management
For now, the workshops are planned and hosted on an ad hoc basis, as funding allows. But Macedo sees a pressing need to scale up. The more brigades participate, the more excitement grows for the material.
“If we offered one of these a month for a while, we still wouldn’t be able to meet the demand for them,” says Macedo.
At some point, Macedo says, the project will have to shift to a “training the trainers” strategy. The team envisions a model where the most engaged workshop participants are taught the skills needed not just to make maps but to teach others, expanding this knowledge further and faster than Alves, Machado, and Macedo could on their own. Technology access is another limiter. Some Indigenous communities have access to laptops at central headquarters but it is not common for each community to have its own laptop and almost no individual brigade members do. More laptops would allow workshop participants to continue practicing their skills on their own time.
Policies in Brazil have also begun to shift to open additional opportunities. In 2024, the country passed a new Integrated Fire Management law that will require greater coordination among different brigade jurisdictions for pre-season and mid-season firefighting activities. The law places a specific emphasis on incorporating traditional knowledge. Macedo says she thinks the GIS workshops could contribute to this greater movement and help position Indigenous communities as central to the country’s fire management policies.
When Ana Shelley reflects on how much her brigades have already been able to accomplish, and the possibilities on the horizon, she is hopeful.
“I see a much better future.”
Setembro de 2025 — Nas margens do Lago Caracaranã, no interior do estado brasileiro de Roraima, um grupo de brigadistas indígenas se reúne em torno de mapas impressos em papel. Elas vieram a este ponto de encontro à beira do lago desde seus territórios em todo o estado, e até de outros estados, para aprender sobre mapas com o Dr. Ray Pinheiro Alves, analista de pesquisa do Instituto de Pesquisa Ambiental da Amazônia (IPAM). Alves direciona cada brigadista para um mapa de seu território, completamente sem rótulos. Ele distribui materiais de desenho e, em poucos instantes, as brigadistas já estão perfeitamente orientadas no mapa, traçando de memória rios conhecidos, locais de moradia e pontos de referência.
Roraima é o estado mais ao norte do Brasil. Ele atravessa o Equador e abriga desde vastos campos como os que cercam o lago Caracaranã até trechos montanhosos e enevoados de floresta Amazônica. É uma região remota e, por vezes, desconectada do restante do país, mas que sofre com as mesmas pressões da expansão da agricultura e do garimpo ilegal, além do mesmo aumento de fogos destrutivos que frequentemente acompanham o processo de desmatamento. É por isso que as brigadas indígenas aqui estão ansiosas para adotar novas ferramentas que possam ajudá-las a manejar e proteger suas florestas e lares.
Alves acredita que os mapas devem ser uma dessas ferramentas. Ele, juntamente com a pesquisadora do Woodwell Climate, Dra. Manoela Machado, tem liderado uma série de workshops desenvolvidos para ajudar brigadistas indígenas a desenvolverem habilidades em cartografia e sistemas de informações geográficas (SIG). O domínio das ferramentas de SIG permite que brigadistas façam uso de dados para orientar decisões sobre o manejo de fogo, tanto durante quanto fora da temporada de queimadas — atividades que se tornarão cada vez mais essenciais à medida que o clima esquenta e os incêndios se tornam mais prevalentes e difíceis de controlar.
A paisagem ardente do Brasil
Deveria estar chovendo em Roraima agora, mas o inverno tem sido seco este ano. As mudanças climáticas têm prolongado as estações secas em muitas regiões do país, aumentando o período em que os ecossistemas ficam propensos ao fogo.
Na Amazônia, o fogo é provocado intencionalmente como parte do processo de desmatamento. Grileiros usam o fogo para limpar a vegetação acumulada após a derrubada, abrindo espaço para as pastagens, que mais tarde serão convertidas em lavouras. Com as mudanças climáticas, esse fogo tem mais chance de escapar para florestas mais secas e enfraquecidas ao redor. Mais ao centro do Brasil, os ecossistemas de savana e áreas úmidas sazonais do Cerrado e do Pantanal coevoluíram com níveis variados de frequência e intensidade de fogo. Mas a seca prolongada e o aumento das temperaturas transformaram as temporadas de fogo em temporadas de crise.
Comunidades indígenas em todo o Brasil usam o fogo há milênios, trabalhando com o ecossistema para promover espécies culturalmente importantes. Com as mudanças climáticas prolongando as temporadas de fogo, os calendários tradicionais também estão mudando, já que o período disponível para queimadas seguras diminui. As comunidades também estão enfrentando invasões em seus territórios por incêndios descontrolados iniciados em fazendas vizinhas.
O mundo teve um vislumbre da dimensão da crise em 2019, quando, durante um verão já recordista em incêndios, grileiros na Amazônia atearam tantos focos em um único dia que a fumaça percorreu centenas de quilômetros e chegou a encobrir a cidade de São Paulo.
“O céu em São Paulo escureceu às 15h. E então o mundo começou a prestar atenção ao fogo na Amazônia”, diz Machado. Proteger as florestas do Brasil dos incêndios, especialmente Amazônia, rica em carbono, tornou-se uma prioridade muito maior para a comunidade internacional.
O Brasil tem um amplo sistema de combate a incêndios florestais, composto por brigadas oficiais e voluntárias, apoiadas por vários órgãos governamentais para operar em terras privadas, áreas públicas protegidas e Territórios Indígenas. Em meio à crescente urgência de conter incêndios, Machado estava interessada em entender o que brigadas de diferentes níveis de jurisdição poderiam precisar para serem mais eficazes durante os meses de crise. Ela própria tem ampla experiência em análise geoespacial e se perguntou se organizações como Woodwell Climate e IPAM poderiam ajudar fornecendo dados sobre terreno, padrões climáticos, tipo de vegetação e outras informações relevantes para o campo.
Então, Machado e a cientista sênior Dra. Marcia Macedo conduziram uma avaliação das necessidades do sistema de combate a incêndios para identificar quais análises poderiam ser mais úteis.
“A resposta variava um pouco, dependendo de com quem estávamos falando”, diz Macedo. “Mas quando falamos com os brigadistas indígenas, uma das coisas que surgiu de imediato não foi apenas um desejo por dados espaciais, mas por treinamento em análise espacial. Eles queriam poder trabalhar com os dados da mesma forma que nós.”
Duas maneiras de conhecer a terra
Para as comunidades indígenas do Brasil, os mapas não são necessários para navegar em seus territórios da mesma forma que o Google Maps pode ser para alguém caminhando em terras desconhecidas.
“Os povos indígenas do Brasil têm um grande conhecimento dos seus territórios”, diz Alves. “Mostramos uma imagem e eles reconhecem algum rio ou algum marco. Eles veem isso imediatamente na visão de satélite.”
Em vez disso, os dados geoespaciais oferecem outra maneira de comunicar esse conhecimento inato da terra. Para as brigadas indígenas com quem Machado e Macedo conversaram, a capacidade de usar as mesmas ferramentas de SIG que os cientistas usam, e de fazer mapas da mesma forma que um órgão governamental, como o Instituto Brasileiro do Meio Ambiente e dos Recursos Naturais Renováveis (IBAMA) faria, é inestimável para que possam se representar e reivindicar seus interesses em espaços não indígenas.
“Poder fazer os próprios mapas pode fortalecer a autonomia para tomar decisões e [ajudar] nos diálogos sobre políticas públicas”, diz Alves.
Machado trabalhou com Alves para desenvolver o conteúdo de uma série de workshops que ajudariam a ensinar os fundamentos de SIG a brigadistas de Territórios Indígenas em todo o Brasil. O primeiro foi realizado em Brasília em 2022, e outros três se seguiram desde então, sendo a turma de Roraima a mais recente.
Cada workshop começa pelo básico: latitude e longitude, hemisférios, projeções. Alves é um professor nato e faz uso de adereços, metáforas e atividades como desenhar em mapas impressos para tornar os conceitos mais tangíveis.
Nos dias seguintes, à medida que os participantes se familiarizam com o QGIS, um software gratuito de elaboração de mapas, Alves adapta as aulas às necessidades das comunidades presentes.
“Por exemplo, em uma aula estávamos apresentando mapas topográficos, e eles disseram ‘isso é muito, muito útil para nós’”, diz Alves. “Então mudamos o curso para resolver a questão com a qual eles estavam lidando.”
Ao final do curso, os participantes haviam criado mapas relevantes para seus territórios. Ver suas próprias casas representadas em forma de mapa, diz Machado, os conecta mais profundamente ao material.
“Dava para ver o orgulho no rosto delas”, diz Machado. “Elas reconhecem cada elemento daquele mapa porque foram elas que construíram. Elas tomaram cada decisão sobre o que mostrar no mapa.”
A brigada feminina
Ana Shelley Xerente, do povo Xerente, viu seu marido trabalhar na brigada oficial de seu território por 13 anos antes de decidir que também gostaria de experimentar. Ao longo dos anos criando seus dois filhos, ela observou mudanças ocorrendo no ecossistema nativo do Cerrado do território Xerente: temperaturas mais altas, córregos secando, mais incêndios.
“Hoje em dia, logo depois da chuva, já está praticamente seco”, diz Ana Shelley. “Tudo por causa das mudanças climáticas.”
Ela sentiu um forte dever de proteger o meio ambiente e disse ao marido que gostaria de trabalhar no Prevfogo, o braço de combate a incêndios do IBAMA, como ele.
“Ele vivia me provocando. “Não tem como você aguentar isso”, diz Ana Shelley. “Mas eu continuei falando sobre isso e ele teve a ideia de criar uma brigada voluntária.”
As brigadas voluntárias apoiam as brigadas oficiais, inclusive no trabalho crítico de prevenção realizado fora do período de crise. Em 2021, atendendo ao interesse de Ana Shelley e de outras pessoas do território, o PREVFOGO e a FUNAI ofereceram apoio para criar uma brigada voluntária composta exclusivamente por mulheres,— a primeira no Brasil. Ana Shelley levava sua equipe de 29 mulheres de aldeia em aldeia, conversando com anciões, educando crianças, reflorestando margens de nascentes e discutindo como as mudanças climáticas têm afetado o calendário tradicional de queimadas culturais.
“Temos nosso próprio calendário, feito pelos nossos anciões. Ele marca a estação chuvosa e a estação seca, quando a queimada não é permitida. Então, percorremos todo o território, conversando com as pessoas sobre o que o fogo traz, o impacto que ele tem sobre humanos e animais, e houve uma redução significativa [nos incêndios]”, diz Ana Shelley.
Ana Shelley começou a se destacar como líder entre as voluntárias. Em 2024, quando seu marido deixou o cargo de presidente da brigada oficial Xerente para trabalhar na FUNAI, ela foi convidada a substituí-lo pelo restante do mandato dele. No início de 2025, ela foi nomeada presidente para seu próprio mandato de quatro anos e assumiu com entusiasmo a responsabilidade de organizar as atividades de 74 brigadistas indígenas, homens e mulheres.
“Tudo é novo para mim, ser chefe de brigada. E como na nossa comunidade são, na maioria, os homens que tomam as decisões, isso causa um impacto, porque agora a chefe é uma mulher, então é tudo novo para eles também”, diz Ana Shelley. “Eu aprendo muito com eles e compartilho com eles o que eu sei. Tenho certeza de que vai ser desafiador, mas também sei que vai trazer muitos bons resultados.”
Representação em sala de aula
O segundo workshop de SIG foi realizado no território de Ana Shelley, no Tocantins, mas apenas seu marido participou do curso. De fato, em certo momento do workshop, Machado olhou ao redor e se perguntou por que, em um território com uma brigada de mulheres motivadas, ela era a única mulher na sala de aula.
Apesar de não estarem em operação há tanto tempo quanto as brigadas masculinas, as brigadistas estavam ansiosas para atuar no mesmo nível. Talvez, pensou Machado, os workshops pudessem ser uma oportunidade para nivelar o campo de atuação.
Ela sugeriu organizar um treinamento exclusivo para mulheres, incentivando sua a participação e dando às elas a oportunidade de aprender ao lado de outras mulheres com experiências semelhantes. A primeira ocorreu no Maranhão, em junho, seguida pela de Roraima.
Macedo afirma que esse tipo de representatividade entre pares é essencial para o sucesso de iniciativas de compartilhamento de capacidade como este.
“O ensino entre pares e a troca de conhecimento entre pessoas que vivem a mesma realidade são quase sempre mais eficazes do que nós, cientistas, em pé na frente [de uma turma]”, diz Macedo.
As brigadistas de Roraima são o resultado claro da representatividade feminina em brigadas, que começou no Tocantins com Ana Shelley e agora se espalhou pelo país. Roraima foi o primeiro estado brasileiro a formalizar brigadas exclusivamente femininas com a Brigada Pataxibas — um coletivo multiterritorial de mulheres combatentes. Durante a cerimônia de encerramento da oficina em Roraima, uma Tuxaua, ou anciã da comunidade reconhecida por sua sabedoria, chamada Azila, destacou a coragem das mulheres ali reunidas, que haviam alcançado coisas que ela mesma nunca tivera a oportunidade de fazer em sua juventude.
A participação nas brigadas também começou a abrir portas para as mulheres para além de seus territórios.
“Algumas se tornaram professoras, outras estão na faculdade. Ampliou seus horizontes delas. “Inspiramos muitas mulheres em todo o Brasil”, diz Ana Shelley.
Segundo Machado, o treinamento em SIG oferece a todos os participantes, homens e mulheres, a oportunidade de contar suas próprias histórias em seus próprios termos.
“Mapas contam histórias”, diz Machado. “Portanto, a importância de todos os membros da comunidade poderem construir seus próprios mapas é que isso lhes permite controlar a narrativa. Eles controlam como sua história é contada, em vez de esperar que alguém faça um mapa e conte a história por eles.”
O futuro da gestão de incêndios
Por enquanto, os workshops são planejados e realizados de forma ad hoc, conforme o financiamento permite. Mas Macedo vê uma necessidade urgente de expansão. Quanto mais brigadas participam, mais cresce o entusiasmo pelo material.
“Se oferecêssemos um desses por mês durante um tempo, ainda não conseguiríamos atender à demanda”, diz Macedo.
Em algum momento, diz Macedo, o projeto terá que mudar para uma estratégia de “formar formadores”. A equipe imagina um modelo em que os participantes mais engajados do workshop sejam capacitados não apenas para fazer mapas, mas também para ensinar outras pessoas, expandindo esse conhecimento de forma mais ampla e rápida do que Alves, Machado e Macedo conseguiriam sozinhos. O acesso à tecnologia é outro limitador. Algumas comunidades indígenas têm computadores em sedes centrais, mas não é comum cada comunidade possuir o seu, e quase nenhum brigadista tem computador próprio. Mais laptops permitiriam que os participantes dos workshops continuassem praticando suas habilidades de forma autônoma.
As políticas no Brasil também começaram a mudar para abrir novas oportunidades. Em 2024, o país aprovou uma nova lei de Manejo Integrado do Fogo que exigirá maior coordenação entre diferentes jurisdições de brigadas para atividades de prevenção e combate, tanto no início quanto no meio da temporada de fogo. A lei dá ênfase à incorporação do conhecimento tradicional. Macedo diz que acredita que os workshops de SIG podem contribuir para esse movimento maior e ajudar a posicionar as comunidades indígenas como centrais nas políticas nacionais de manejo do fogo.
Quando Ana Shelley reflete sobre o quanto suas brigadas já conseguiram realizar e as possibilidades no horizonte, ela se mostra otimista.
“Eu vejo um futuro muito melhor.”
TFFF “an Arrow in the Quiver, not a Silver Bullet”
Brazil-backed fund aims to provide long-term funding for tropical forests via a model that incentivises stewardship and crowds-in private investment.
The tropical forest fund hailed last week by Brazil’s President Lula has the potential to deliver policy change as well as cash flows, but further government backing is just one of several keys to investor support.
Speaking at the COP30 Leaders’ Summit, President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva described the Tropical Forest Forever Facility (TFFF) as an “unprecedented initiative”, highlighting the leading role being played by governments from the Global South.
Continue reading on Sustainble Investor.
Trump is skipping the UN’s climate conference. Some New Englanders are filling the void.
As local climate leaders head to the United Nations annual global climate talks — this year, in Belém, Brazil — it’s hard not to think about 2017.
That’s the last time that the talks were held during the first year of a Trump administration. Back then, less than six months into his first presidency, President Trump made his message clear: Washington was not interested in international cooperation to tackle the climate crisis.
Then, as now, representatives from states, cities, nonprofits, and corporations flocked to the conference to try to send their own message: “There’s more to the US than what is coming out of Washington,” said Lou Leonard, who is now dean of Clark University’s School of Climate, Environment and Society in Worcester.
Read more on The Boston Globe.
A message from President & CEO Dr. R. Max Holmes
I am writing from Belém, Brazil, a city at the edge of both the Amazon forest and the Atlantic Ocean and host of COP30—the thirtieth annual meeting of the parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change treaty, what is often referred to as the UN climate conference.
The location of this year’s meeting is significant in multiple ways. The treaty was adopted in Rio de Janeiro, so returning to Brazil is something of a homecoming. And Belém’s location puts particular emphasis on the importance of tropical forests and nature-based climate solutions more broadly.
Woodwell Climate has more than a dozen science and policy experts at COP30 sharing our science, informing negotiations, deepening relationships, and exploring new possibilities. We are advocating for more ambitious climate goals that take into account emissions from permafrost thaw, wildfires, and other ecosystem changes; for equitable, effective finance mechanisms that can get money flowing to the people best positioned to protect tropical forests; for science-based national adaptation plans and indicators that will enable us to track our progress toward global resilience.
It is exciting, even exhilarating, work. And yet, the “30” in COP30 raises uneasy questions. This is the thirtieth time the nations of the world have come together to chart a path toward a just, livable climate future. Why is progress so slow? What can possibly be left to negotiate? Is it all worth the effort?
As these questions were bouncing around in my head, I started to wonder what the originators of the process think of where we are. One of those originators, Kilaparti Ramakrishna (known to many as Rama), was among Woodwell Climate’s first employees and is currently a member of our Board of Directors. So I reached out and asked him. In response, he shared an essay he was working on which began this way:
“When we were drafting the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) in 1991–1992, few of us could have imagined that the negotiations we began would still be unfolding three decades later. But we did know that we were creating something designed to last. The Convention was never meant to be a one-off agreement that “solved” climate change; it was conceived as a living framework, a foundation for continuous, evolving cooperation guided by science, equity, and common purpose.”
That is, in itself, a lofty goal. And by that measure, the UNFCCC has been a resounding success. It has weathered numerous, dramatic, often rapid, geopolitical shifts over the past three decades. Particularly now, in an era of rising nationalism around the world, it is remarkable that any multilateral process should persist for so long. It is an enormous testament to the many negotiators and advocates who have held to that vision and worked tirelessly to advance, however incrementally, a truly global framework for addressing climate change.
Obviously, it has not been without setbacks. One front of mind for many right now is the fact that the U.S. has withdrawn—not just once, but twice. And on that note, Rama had another frameshift to offer. Each time the U.S. has stepped back, progress has slowed. There is no denying that. But the UNFCCC and the Paris Agreement have continued nonetheless. That is because others have stepped into greater leadership and responsibility, and that makes the process, as a whole, stronger in the long run.
And this is a long run. Climate change is a challenge of unprecedented scope and import. It has been decades in the making, and the consequences will span every aspect of society for decades, if not centuries, to come. The U.N. Framework Convention on Climate Change is a correspondingly unprecedented response that cannot be expected to yield results overnight. It remains the only forum for truly global discourse and collaboration on climate issues, and that is invaluable.
So let’s celebrate that this is the thirtieth COP, acknowledging that progress has been slower than any of us would want but recognizing that we are in a much better place than we would be without the U.N. Framework Convention on Climate Change. Let’s also look ahead to COP40, COP50, and even COP60, imagining the world we want in the future and resolving to do everything we possibly can to realize that vision.
That is what keeps me going. That is what keeps Woodwell going. On behalf of all of us, thank you for the privilege of doing this work.
Onward,
Alaska permafrost put at risk by climate change
Researchers are racing to study how fast permafrost is transitioning from carbon sink to source of emissions, with the climate in the balance.
On a blustery day in August, a team of five scientists watched with perverse fascination as saltwater from the Arctic Ocean lapped over the tundra of Alaska’s Prudhoe Bay. They’d spent more than a year studying the phenomenon that’s increasingly common as land ice melts, but had never witnessed it firsthand.