Fire on ice: The Arctic’s changing fire regime
The number of wildland fires burning in the Arctic is on the rise, according to NASA researchers. Moreover, these blazes are burning larger, hotter, and longer than they did in previous decades.
These trends are closely tied to the region’s rapidly changing climate. The Arctic is warming nearly four times faster than the global average, a shift that directly impacts rain and snow in the region and decreases soil moisture, both of which make the landscape more flammable. Lightning, the primary ignition source of Arctic fires, is also occurring farther north. These findings are detailed in a report published in 2025 by the Arctic Monitoring and Assessment Programme (AMAP), a working group of the Arctic Council.
Trump is leaving UN environmental bodies. What that means for the climate
On Wednesday night, President Trump announced that the U.S. would be withdrawing from the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC), a landmark global treaty that sets a legal framework for international negotiations to address climate change.
The move comes after the Trump Administration asked the State Department to review the country’s involvement in various international organizations last February. The result is that the president has now withdrawn the United States from a total 66 international organisations, including 31 United Nations entities. Other groups included U.N. Oceans, the Intergovernmental Science-Policy Platform on Biodiversity and Ecosystem Services, and the International Renewable Energy Agency.
On January 5, Woodwell Climate submitted public comment to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency’s (EPA) and U.S. Army Corps of Engineers’ (Army Corps) proposed rule to update the definition of “Waters of the United States” (WOTUS).
Mass. home insurer of last resort sees spike in enrollment
Combination of growing climate risks and inflation likely led to roughly 15,000 new policies added to FAIR Plan in fiscal year 2024
Don’t pull the fire alarm yet, but new data on home insurance in Massachusetts is turning heads across the industry.
Massachusetts enrolled more than 173,000 policies in its insurer of last resort, known as the FAIR Plan, in fiscal year 2024 — marking the first year-over-year increase for the insurer since 2017 and its largest single-year jump since 2007. In fiscal 2023, the FAIR Plan enrolled 158,660 policies.
Continue reading on Commonwealth Beacon.
A message from President & CEO Dr. R. Max Holmes
A few weeks ago, as the temperature here in Falmouth really dropped for the first time, I pulled out my winter coat. In the pocket, I found a folded copy of comments I made at a Stand Up for Science rally back in March. It was a stark reminder of just how much has happened—and how far we have come—this year.
Here at Woodwell, our days are long and full. Attempting to recall any year’s efforts and events can be head-spinning. This year, there was an added intensity, as everything we did felt like it was happening while riding a roller coaster. And yet, as we approach the end of 2025, I am certain that our organization and our work are stronger and more essential than they were a year ago.
That does not diminish the climate policy setbacks—truly immense—we have seen at the federal level here in the U.S. Withdrawal from the Paris Agreement and the UN climate negotiation process, efforts to roll back the Endangerment Finding, the dismantling of federal climate science programs, the end of IRA incentives for renewable energy and electric vehicles, and a host of regulatory changes that threaten clean air and water—these are just a handful of the moves whose damaging impacts will be felt ever more acutely as we move forward.
Federal actions have also directly impacted Woodwell’s operations, from the loss of (a small number of) government grants and collaborations to concerns about future funding priorities and criteria. For a time, even the security of our non-profit status was in question. The first third of this year felt like an unrelenting assault. Uncertainty, even fear, was a constant theme. But as the months have passed, the frenetic pace has eased and we have shifted from crisis footing to a risk-aware but forward-looking stance.
Through it all, Woodwell’s experts have stood strong and spoken up for science—whether in public comments on proposed rule changes or in personal reflections shared at a Moth-style story slam. We have shared our strength in mapmaking with Indigenous communities around the globe—from women’s firefighters in the Amazon, to Alaska Native villages, and traditional reindeer herding communities—so that they can leverage the power of geospatial data. We have supported the launch of an innovative new international mechanism to fund tropical forest conservation, the Tropical Forests Forever Facility. And I, along with more than a dozen Woodwell experts, were among those attending COP30 and making sure the rest of the world knows not all Americans have turned away from the UN climate agenda. Indeed, Woodwell’s delegation contributed to some of the top items, from forest finance and Indigenous leadership, to increasing ambition and monitoring resilience.
Onward,
As a result of climate change, flood risk is projected to increase for Holyoke. The probability of the historical 100-year rainfall event, a useful indicator of flood risk, is expected to more than double by mid-century and be nearly five times as likely by the end of the century. Streamflow for the Connecticut River is also projected to rise throughout this century with an increase of 9% by 2050 and an additional 5% by 2080. Both increases in streamflow and heavier rainfall will translate into greater flood depths and extent for Holyoke. Here we present our findings on extreme precipitation and flooding to help Holyoke in its plans to create a more resilient future for all residents.
2025 marked the first year I went out in the field as a member of Woodwell Climate’s Permafrost Pathways monitoring team. I travelled around Alaska to our carbon monitoring sites, maintaining and installing equipment and taking static measurements of greenhouse gases — namely carbon dioxide, methane and nitrous oxide — in various degraded and disturbed permafrost landscapes around Fairbanks and west of Prudhoe Bay by the Arctic Ocean.
In late April this year, I returned to Toolik together with Dr. Jennifer Watts, Dr. Kyle Arndt, Christina Minions, Dr. Kelly Gleason (snow scientist from Portland State University) and photographer Jayme Dittmar to install an eddy covariance tower by a retrogressive thaw slump (here). Eddy covariance towers monitor and capture fluxes, or the exchange between land and atmosphere, of energy and greenhouse gases. Thaw slumps are areas of tundra that have collapsed due to thawing ice-rich permafrost. When the ice melts, the ground collapses, revealing old, buried carbon rich soils that begin releasing their carbon back to the atmosphere. The towers help us better understand how much carbon these features contribute to calibrate models of Arctic carbon emissions.
Spring is one of the best times to be in northern latitudes. Near endless days, the bright snow, the monochromatic stretches of landscapes, the binary experience of both intensity and complete stillness. Now suddenly, the interruption of a small group of people gathering, pulling around equipment, cords, cables, instruments, and then suddenly there is a new structure in the landscape and the people disappear. Off to a great start, we packed and organized our tools and equipment and headed from the wintery landscape of the north towards the onset of green-up to the south.
Back in Fairbanks, the bloom of birches in early June is one of my favorite sights. The dense stretches of light, delicate greenness and resinous fragrance from the new sprung leaves that are drowning in summer sunlight makes me almost feel all the carbon dioxide being sucked out of the air by the trees. This, again, makes me really appreciate the northern latitudes. The vastness that cradles your existence grounds you and at the same time lifts you with the intensity of the surrounding life. It is an energy that can only be felt at these latitudes. A form of mania that propels you onward without pause.
In late June the trip headed to Nome and Council where I, together with colleagues Dani Trangmoe and Dr.Kelcy Kent, maintain the tower there. With each site visit, not only do I get an improved grasp of the equipment, but also a better understanding of the surrounding landscapes, now even more chlorophyll-saturated peak green. I shuttled to Anchorage and then back up to Bethel with Trangmoe to join Dr. Jackie Hung and Christina Minions at the two towers located a 40 minute flight northeast of the town. Here, we upgraded solar structures, maintained and swapped equipment and hauled out old and damaged power supplies and misc. materials. I really appreciated the time being out there and the sense of community that comes with remote camps, although we only stayed out for about a week.
Afterwards we circled through Anchorage again on our way to the very top— the Arctic Ocean. I assisted Hung and fellow researchers from Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute and the Marine Biological Laboratory to collect greenhouse gas measurements from coastal tundra. The contrast of the flora and fauna against the infrastructures from the oil and gas fields makes for a surreal sight. From here I am going southward again, stopping at Toolik to check on the new tower and enjoy the buzzing environment that Toolik is offering during this time of year. The intensity of the arctic summers is reflected in the frantic work of scientists that all gather here to conduct a wide range of work.
At what other place in the world than Toolik would one be able to hike out on the tundra and do maintenance work on an eddy covariance tower in the morning, come back for a snack, go out in a helicopter to search for new areas of permafrost degradation, get a panoramic sight of thousands of caribou, come back to a hearty meal, and finish off the day catching some grayling at the river inlet by the Toolik lake. The beautiful clear light, the humming of mosquitoes, and the rippling sounds of the water give me a sense of belonging, a sense of home.
I spent my last weeks in Alaska in Fairbanks again, making boreholes in permafrost together with a magnificent team gathered from across the U.S. We can learn a lot from these seven-meter-deep boreholes. Not only studying the samples that we retrieve, but also how these permafrost soils evolve and change with climate change with sensors that monitor variables such as temperature, oxygen and soil moisture. The drilling was challenging and physically demanding, but at the same time something of a treasure hunt as each of the soil samples we were able to retrieve has the potential to unlock a wealth of information that can help us expand our understanding of the changing permafrost soils in the region. In the end it felt well worth the effort, especially being privileged to work with such a dedicated and knowledgeable group.
2025 also marked my tenth year of working in the Arctic. As a junior scientist, I remember reading and hearing about Woodwell Climate’s work in the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta long before I joined the team. I remember spending a full summer on the Delta by the coast, learning about and experiencing firsthand the effects of both permafrost thaw and coastal erosion. Knowing that Woodwell’s first eddy covariance tower was installed in this region around the same time, and that it has been collecting data ever since, has given me a sense of perspective not only on my career, or the Permafrost Pathways project for which this tower was the springboard, but also the future of the Arctic landscapes that I have come to love.
I am grateful to have been given this perspective, and to work in and celebrate all these unique and beautiful places. If it wasn’t for the people and the relationships built through this work, we would know much less about these complex and fascinating landscapes. It is through these encounters with people and the environment that we can not only deepen our understanding but also gain connection. These encounters and interactions give a sense of belonging as a part of something bigger.
John Holdren awarded 2026 AIP Karl Compton Medal
Prize for leadership in physics to be given to Harvard professor and former OSTP director for engaging the public and promoting sound governmental policies.
AIP’s 2026 Karl Taylor Compton Medal for leadership in physics is being awarded to Professor John Holdren of Harvard University and former Chief Science & Technology Advisor to President Obama.
Named after prominent physicist Karl Taylor Compton, the medal is presented by AIP every two years to a highly a distinguished physicist who has made outstanding contributions to physics through exceptional statesmanship in science.
Holdren was chosen by the selection committee “for his scientific leadership in engaging the public and promoting sound governmental policies and key international agreements.”
Read more on the American Institute of Physics’ website.
