1. Quiet oceans make for calmer right whales. (Huffington Post Green)
2. Regular contact with nature is part of a balanced diet for kids. (BBC)
3. The world’s biggest conservation group (ahem) is making forays into urban areas. (Grist)
4. Toilet paper production destroys Indonesian rainforests. (Mongabay)
5. Woolly mammoth sighting or publicity hoax? (MSNBC)

1. The EPA warns beach sand may contain illness-inducing bacteria. (TreeHugger)
2. Two teenagers are helping Girl Scouts end deforestation. (Grist)
3. Will global warming ruin football in the southern US? (Climate Progress)
4. Electric bicycles take on San Francisco’s famous hills. (Green)
5. Teaching students about climate change proves to be tricky for teachers. (Dot Earth)

February 10: A Visit to a Bai, and a Lesson in Law Enforcement

Today I visited a bai, the traditional men’s meeting house in Palau. A bai is a long, spectacularly decorated wooden structure with a triangular roof that rests on beams and is built without nails, so that it can be disassembled. They are amazing. I’ve wanted visit one ever since I first visited Palau seven years ago, and it did not disappoint.

We visited the bai for Melekeok state, home to the high chief Reklai, the second highest ranking chief in Palau.  During my visit I learned about traditional Palauan decision-making processes as well as how laws here are enforced, which gave me some new insights into why it’s so difficult to protect the environment in many parts of the world.

Palau is comprised of 16 states, each with 10 chiefs and all of whom are ranked by clan status.  The highest-ranking chief from each state, the paramount chief, sits on the Council of Chiefs.  When chiefs gather to discuss problems of the village, they enter the bai and do not come out until they have reached consensus. If they cannot reach a decision, the four highest-ranking chiefs step outside the bai and sit on designated rocks, where they come to a decision.  This is then shared with the rest of the chiefs and the village.

Today’s focus was on enforcement of environmental laws, and so I heard about how offenders are dealt with. Village elders recounted specific stories, naming names along the way and describing various offenses, including fines and other penalties… usually for taking fish that wasn’t theirs to take.

When someone violates rules of the village, they come before the chiefs — but they don’t come alone.  They come with their families — mothers, uncles, sisters, etc., and the families plead their case. It is a great shame upon your family to bring them before the village elders.

And that peer pressure and shame have proven to be very effective in enforcing norms in Palau. Think about it: How would you feel if your father had to be humiliated in his community for something that you did — as well as share in the punishment?  Wouldn’t you think twice?

Palauans believe that environmental transgressions are social ones, too; they understand that, when someone takes or destroys a natural resource, it affects everyone, and the impacts can be long-lasting or even irreparable. How do you measure that? How do you exact a penalty that matches the crime? In Palau, there are monetary and material penalties (hefty fines or loss of equipment, including things such as boats).  Their fines match the crime. Not surprisingly, repeat offenders are rare.

Choosing proper penalties for environmental degradation is a perennial topic of conversation for marine conservationists all over the world. Such penalties are weak in many places and for many situations; judicial systems also often don’t enforce the laws already on the books. We see this at every level, from poacher to corporate polluter.

A big part of the problem is that most contemporary societies don’t really view most actions that hurt the environment as social acts. From driving a mile to the grocery store to polluting a waterway to not buying energy that’s renewable when you have the option, people see their habits as individual ones, not ones that add up and have a social cost. But most societies don’t have collective penalties for environmental transgressions, either. In Palau, the environment is everything, and the country’s social norms reflect that. It will probably take something drastic to make the rest of us realize that our resources really are limited and that we need to take greater measures to hold people accountable. Palau’s resort to social shaming in the service of the greater good might seem drastic to us; but it clearly works.

[Images: Two views of the Melekeok bai. Image credit: Stephanie Wear]

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February 8, 2012:  A Sea That Unites Us

Here on Palau, I am just back from our first day of a learning exchange between several communities spread across the Hawaiian Islands, the country of Palau, and the territory of American Samoa.  Today we went to Palau’s Capitol Building, which was modeled after the U.S. Capitol and was built as a symbol of Palau’s democracy. The neoclassic architecture, complete with a domed building, stands out in a landscape surrounded by forest and crystal clear blue waters.

We were welcomed at the Capitol by Palau’s Council of the Chiefs.  There are 16 high chiefs in Palau, and we heard from many of them about values they and we share in protecting the environment for people.  We brought gifts and shared in some amazing moments — like when our Hawaii delegation chanted oli’s (Hawaiian chants) to connect their ancestors to those of the Palauans, and to share their gratitude for the welcome extended by the high chiefs.

I got emotional at times like this, I must admit. Something really special happened in that room. It was powerful to be sitting among so many like-minded folks, in a formal government building while oli’s were exchanged by people using words of their ancestors. I won’t soon forget it.  We felt fortunate to hear from the chiefs as they shared their passion for protecting their region’s natural resources for the future.

The words of one chief continue to resonate with me. He said, “The sea does not divide us — it brings us all together, it unites us.” He spoke of the ocean’s waves, and how the same waves that reach the shores of Palau also make their way to American Samoa and Hawaii.  He’s right: the ocean connects all people to all places.  The theme of connection is sure to resonate throughout our week together, and what it means will be something I continue to discuss with my colleagues.

But it’s a theme that has yet to resonate with most people elsewhere. Even though people depend for their very lives on the sea, most still don’t understand that. We might understand how deeply we all need clean air or productive land, but the ocean as a symbol of global unity is basically invisible to the public — and that lack of visibility diminishes whether people think about the ocean as a place that needs protection and care.

Maybe we need to frame the importance of the ocean in terms of self-preservation. In protecting the oceans, we protect and care for ourselves. The planet’s “circulatory system” of ocean currents functions much like the arteries of the human body, nourishing and rejuvenating life at sea and on land. Oceans are absolutely vital to how the planet stays alive, and we should have a much better understanding of it than we do.

All of us struggle in conservation with how to make these connections real, meaningful and immediate to people who can’t see the underwater wonders of Palau or hear the passion of these exchange participants. How do we connect the sea to the most basic needs that we all have as humans — and in doing so, create an opportunity to preserve those resources for the future?  I have a feeling this week will give me a lot of opportunities to ponder this immense challenge.

[Image:  Stephanie Wear and her colleagues in Palau. Image source: Stephanie Wear]

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February 6, 2012:  Greetings from Palau!

I’ve just returned to one of my favorite places on the planet: Palau, a tiny country with less than 20,000 citizens in the middle of the Pacific Ocean — a tiny speck on the map. For what it lacks in size, Palau makes up for with some of the most stunning scenery both above and below the sea’s surface.

Stepping off the plane, I was greeted by the sweet smells of the tropics, salty humid air and darkness. Coming and going from Palau seems to always take place in the middle of the night, which means I’ve never managed to get an aerial view. In fact, I’ve only seen it from above in scenes from episodes of Survivor: Palau! Before that television show, most people had never heard of this wonderful country. Now it’s clear the secret is out. Each time I return, tourism has expanded — the tour boats are full — and the local people seem as happy as ever to share this long-kept secret.

It’s easy to see why Palau’s coral reefs have been named one of the seven underwater wonders of the world. The reefs are thriving; in fact, coral colonies can be seen growing on top of each other. This was not the case 14 years ago when, in 1998, Palau was hit by a global mass bleaching event. Within weeks, the vibrant, colorful, teeming-with-life reefs were barren, colorless and quiet.

Yet, those vibrant reefs are back and showing signs of incredible recovery. This is one of the most exciting and hopeful things a coral reef scientist can hear. Given the state of much of the globe’s coral reefs, it is easy to lose hope and hand down the death sentence for reefs — but there are reefs in Palau and around the world that just keep coming back, giving us real hope and a rationale to keep on working.

This week I am in Palau with a group of community members and Nature Conservancy staff from the Hawaiian Islands. Our Conservancy colleagues from Palau are hosting us, and together we are going on a journey of discovery to better understand what is happening in Palau, both on land and in the sea. We will be visiting villages, speaking with village elders and chiefs and learning about how Palau is managing its natural resources using traditional methods and laws. What we learn on this journey is sure to provide insight into how to best protect and ultimately save coral reefs from their threatened demise.

Follow us on our journey — if it is anything like Palau’s coral reefs, it will be colorful and inspiring.

[Image: Aerial view of Kmekumer, Rock Islands, Republic of Palau. Image source: Jez O'Hare]

1. Our oceans got some love in this 30-second Super Bowl ad. (Care2)
2. Puerto Rico adds non-native iguanas to their menus. (Washington Post)
3. The Olympics bring Britain their biggest urban park. (Guardian)
4. We heart TreeHugger’s new Valentine’s Day green gift guide. (TreeHugger)
5. A warming ocean actually boasts some coral reef growth. (Huffington Post)

1. Are jellyfish taking over our oceans? (Nature)
2. Turning down the thermostat saves energy and helps you lose weight. (The Chic Ecologist)
3. Atlantic sturgeon added to the endangered species list. (Huffington Post)
4. How do you fight invasive species in Australia? Bring in Komodo dragons. (TreeHugger)
5. Spider webs may hold the clue to better buildings. (Christian Science Monitor)

1. Teens send a Lego 80,000 feet into the clouds (and they have video!). (Los Angeles Times)
2. Marine mammals are showing up on more dinner plates than you may except. (Huffington Post)
3. What country takes first prize on the environmental performance index? (Green)
4. Sea cucumber poo may be key to saving the world’s coral reefs. (TreeHugger)
5. NASA video shows the Earth’s rise in temperature over the past 131 years. (Mongabay)

1. Anchovies are making a North Sea comeback.  Thanks, climate change?  (Conservation Mag)
2. Some rare good news for rhinos– none were poached in Nepal last year!  (Mongabay)
3. The “doomsday clock” jumped a minute forward.  Why?  Climate change.  (CleanTechnica)
4. President Obama visited EPA staff to let them know he still cares.  (Green)
5. Oil rigs could possibly be responsible for turning migratory land-based birds into shark snacks.  (Wired)

1. Meet a fish that mimics an octopus… that mimics fish. (msnbc)
2. Parasite flies are turning honeybees into “zom-bees.” (Time)
3. Here’s a bright idea: solar-powered ATMs bring money to rural India. (TreeHugger)
4. Harp seal pups are on thin ice. (Green)
5. Seattle thinks outside the tray and serves students healthier school lunches. (Grist)

Let’s say the rise in sea level that climate change will bring us — from melting ice caps, expanding seas — won’t be “all that bad” by, oh, the year 2080.

Maybe it’ll be…just half a meter (a little under 20 inches). We can deal with half a meter, right?

Well, yeah — if we’re ready to “deal with” almost 50 percent more affected people and 73 percent more property losses from a typical Category 3 hurricane — all because of the higher storm surge that’ll come from that additional 20 inches of sea level. (“Storm surge,” in case you don’t know, describes the ocean water that a storm’s winds bring ashore, in addition to what’s usually there with normal tides.)

Those kinds of losses are the scenario the southern shores of Long Island, New York, are looking at, according to a new peer-reviewed study in the journal Natural Hazards. And it’s a scenario that could apply to lots of other U.S. coastlines, says Christine Shepard, the study’s lead author and a postdoctoral fellow with the Conservancy’s Global Marine Team.

Unfortunately, she adds, sea-level rise hasn’t been on the radar of most U.S. coastal planners until recently. So is there any good news? Yes, says Shepard: The study offers a set of approaches and accessible tools with which those coastal planners can start mapping their own communities’ vulnerabilities. (Are you listening, Islip?) I caught up with Shepard to find out more.

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Q: Why did you choose to study sea-level rise and storm surges along the southern shores of Long Island? How typical are these places of other U.S. coastlines?

SHEPARD: First, it’s a very densely populated area, so the modeling gives us a good look at how damaging storm surge can be to such an area. We also have access to some very good elevation data on the area. And there’s also a history of storm surges here — they had an intense Category 3 storm in 1938. All that made it a good area to test the development of our methods.

But while Suffolk County is one of the most populous counties in the United States, the results that we found are comparable to other studies that evaluated the effect of sea-level rise on storm surge in less densely populated areas. So we can definitely extrapolate these results to other U.S. metropolitan areas or coastal cities.

Q: We’re talking about 20 inches of sea-level rise. (The height of an English Springer Spaniel, if that helps anyone visualize it.) Just how damaging could 20 inches be?

SHEPARD:  Just a small amount of sea-level rise increases the damage — especially in areas with intense development and a high concentration of people and properties stretching from the coast inland, like the area of Long Island that we studied. Also, the damage per property increases with the depth of the water. Even just a slightly higher storm surge gives you more damage per property — you can really see these impacts at the town level.

Q: Besides having high concentrations of people and development, what else makes a coastal community especially vulnerable to storm surge? In your study, the town of Islip (which has a population of almost 325,000) already has a lot of risk today, and 0.5 meters of sea level rise is going to accentuate that quite a bit.

SHEPARD:  Two variables: socioeconomic considerations, and critical infrastructure and facilities.

Some of the common socioeconomic characteristics of communities that are more likely to have disproportionate impacts from coastal hazards include having 1) areas with high population density and housing unit density, 2) areas with a lot of poverty, or 3) areas with a lot of households that lack access to vehicles they could use to evacuate with.

Part of the point of this study was to create maps that communities can use to develop targeted approaches to hazard mitigation. We created a  social vulnerability index to help map these communities so that hazard mitigation policies or grants could be targeted towards communities that are socially vulnerable, to reduce their risk. And for critical facilities and infrastructure, just to have easily accessible maps of where these are with respect to present and future storm surge risk is very valuable for community planning.

It’s also valuable for conservation. I’ve been working on maps that prioritize marsh restoration projects adjacent to population centers and vulnerable communities. These marshes may help mitigate storm impacts, so that kind of planning could be a win-win for coastal communities and conservation.

Christine Shepard

Q: The 0.5 meters sea-level rise estimate by 2080 you used — that’s a pretty conservative estimate, isn’t it, given some of the modeling that’s now out there?

SHEPARD:  I would say it is pretty conservative, so you could conclude that the results from this paper are conservative. And our estimates of damage are also conservative because our analysis only incorporates losses due to flooding, not wind.

Q: Why haven’t coastal agencies and towns in the United States taken sea-level rise into account when they’ve thought about managing storm surges?

SHEPARD: First, FEMA didn’t really acknowledge sea-level rise and the impacts on storm surge until the last couple of years. There’s been a cultural dichotomy between the people who analyze the impacts of sea-level rise versus those who plan for hurricanes and storm surges.

But most municipalities aren’t currently planning for increases in inland extent of storm surge. Their proposed maps for a variety of strengths of hurricanes assume present conditions and don’t incorporate sea-level rise. The same goes for flood maps.

Q: The study gives communities a methodology for getting prepared. What do they need to do to tap into it?

SHEPARD: It’s never been easier for them to do their own planning for storm surge and sea-level rise. The tools that we incorporate into our approach are readily available, and the organizations or government agencies that provide them provide training for them. And we tried to pull from those processes and tools that someone with an intermediate level of GIS expertise — someone who would be a typical GIS analyst for a county or a city — could use with training offered by some of the agencies that provide the tools such as FEMA and NOAA.

Q: 2080 is an awfully long time off. Is there anything in this report that should set off alarm bells for ordinary people, either for right now or 10 to 20 years down the road? Should they be buying property in places vulnerable to these kinds of storm surges?

SHEPARD: If they’re thinking about purchasing coastal property, they definitely need to consider that current flood zone maps do not reflect any sea-level rise. Those maps may soon be obsolete.

Editor’s note: Christine Shepard is a member of the Conservancy’s Coastal Resilience project, which seeks to support decision-making that reduces risk and vulnerability from coastal natural hazards by incorporating both socioeconomic and ecological considerations. The project was pioneered on the southern shores of Long Island and now encompasses Southern California, Connecticut, the Gulf of Mexico and the U.S. Virgin Islands.

(Image: Storm surge crashing ashore in Texas from Hurricane Ike, 2008. Image credit: poepoe374/Flickr through a Creative Commons license.)

1. The BBC selects a panda as one of their women of the year. (Guardian)
2. The Gulf of Mexico experiences giant tiger prawn takeover. (Houston Chronicle)
3. Meet the world’s cutest polar bear cub. (Huffington Post Green)
4. Johnny, the globe-trotting sea turtle, returns to Florida’s waters. (Washington Post)
5. How do you deter lions from preying on cattle? Taste aversion. (Scientific American)