Category: Climate/Global Change Page 1 of 10

Meet the Scientists Conserving Sharks & Sea Turtles in Latin America

On April 8, 2025

In Animals, Biology, Climate/Global Change, Data, Environment/Sustainability, Field Research

I had just spent the weekend at the Duke Marine Lab, listening to my classmates discuss solutions to the shrinking population of a critically endangered porpoise species. So when I attended the March 25 Oceans Week panel immediately after, marine megafauna were already at the forefront of my mind.

Organized by Duke’s Working Group for the Environment in Latin America, the panel brought together several experts, comparing and contrasting their challenges across countries and species.

*Image from Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0*

The open and interconnected nature of the ocean already presents unique conservation issues compared to terrestrial ecosystems, but it’s even more difficult to work on policies for marine megafauna that regularly traverse oceans. Countries establishing coastal estuaries or coral reefs as Marine Protected Areas (MPAs) can be effective for inhabitants like reef sharks that have limited ranges. However, protecting highly migratory animals like whale sharks and blue whales often requires international agreements and collaboration between countries.

To better protect these species, Dr. César Peñaherrera launched the nonprofit MigraMar, which researches them through extensive tagging in the Eastern Pacific and partners with a large network to share and aggregate data. They’ve tagged 642 hammerhead sharks so far, according to their website, and this is just one of the migratory species they work with. Peñaherrera, whose background is in quantitative marine science, spends much of his time when he isn’t in the field making sense of the vast sets of data points. One of MigraMar’s main goals is to provide evidence for greater connectivity between Marine Protected Areas. Think wildlife corridors, but underwater. By mapping out the most predictable migration routes for marine megafauna, they can inform the best routes for these “Swimways.”

*Peñaherrera shared an image of a diver approaching hammerhead sharks with a pole spear, which helps them attach an acoustic tag to a shark.*

Conserving sea turtles is a little different than other species–they face different threats throughout life as they go from land to sea and back to land to lay eggs. Carlos Diez, who researches turtles extensively at the Puerto Rico Department of Natural and Environmental Resources, outlined four “unresolved” main threats within terrestrial ecosystems: coastal development, light pollution, exotic species, and conflicts over habitat use.

Climate change also poses a potential threat, since sex determination in sea turtles is dependent on temperatures. As many parts of their range warm, the sex ratio of turtles in some locations has leaned increasingly female. That’s one area that Diez has conducted research in: determining when, where, and how much the balance of turtle sexes is changing.

While collecting accurate data on wildlife is necessary, the complexity of marine conservation hinges as much on the behavior of people as it does wildlife.

Perhaps that’s why shark researcher, science communicator and Puerto Rican native Melissa Cristina Márquez said one of her focuses is on the “human dimensions of shark conservation.”

Deep connection to the inhabitants of the oceans leads to more active conservation. Indigenous cultures, for example, have fished sustainably for ages. Márquez, who is currently based in Australia, said, “We’ve seen that a lot in Fiji, in Papua, New Guinea, with sharks and their cultural connection to sharks, and how that kind of spurred forward a bit more protection of those animals.”

“The cultural, historic and political contexts in conservation… these factors really shape the value placed on marine biodiversity, the policies that are developed and the resources that are allocated for conservation efforts,” she said.

As a fisheries officer for the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, Carlos Fuentevilla has a more specific focus when it comes to the human dimension: reconciling sustainable management with the need to feed people.

“We currently now eat around 20.7 kilograms per capita per day of food,” said Fuentevilla, pointing out that the world would have to ramp up production if this rate is to remain the same at 2050. “So it’s not a question of we have to eat less… It’s a question that we have to produce more–how can we do it sustainably?”

Much of it will have to come down to how we manage our fisheries. While most fish aren’t technically megafauna, Fuentevilla pointed out that marine megafauna regularly interact with, and are affected by, our fishing activities.

Fishery scientists will tell you they don’t manage fish, they manage people.

Scientists like Fuentevilla and those in government use ecosystem based management, which considers the species in an area as well as the stakeholders and competing interests that affect them, including fishermen and coastal developers. “You know, fishery scientists will tell you they don’t manage fish, they manage people, and that’s right,” Fuentevilla said.

The overarching theme is that the ocean is an open system, and nothing in marine conservation occurs in a vacuum. Fulfilling this work means having to go beyond national policy to international frameworks and understanding the other key players in sea and on land.

By Crystal Han, Class of 2028

So Much More Than Growing Plants: Gardening as a Practice of Reclamation, Identity and Legacy

By Gabrielle Douglas

On April 7, 2025

In Climate/Global Change, Environment/Sustainability, History

“The Garden is a healer… that’s just a fact.”

“When people come into my garden they see me.”

“The people in charge are not the ones that look like us.”

These were just a few of the powerful truths shared during the African American Legacy in Gardening and Horticulture Symposium on Saturday, March 29. In a space filled with stories, resistance and regeneration, I witnessed how gardening is much more than cultivation– it’s reclamation, identity and legacy.

Organized by the North Carolina Botanical Gardens, Durham County Library, Sarah P. Duke Gardens, and other community partners, the symposium brought together community members, horticulturalists, scholars, leaders and activists to exchange knowledge and experience. The day featured three rich sessions, each exploring different aspects of African American connections to land history and healing.

The Wisdom of Trees: Urban Forestry and Black Land Ownership in the Subaltern South

The first session explored the deeply rooted issues of Black land ownership, forestry, and land expression in the South. Moderated by Darrell Stover of the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences and North Carolina State University, the panel featured a series of powerful and passionate leaders and practitioners: Alton Perry, Director of the Roanoke Cooperative’s Sustaining Forestry and Land retention Project; Tyrone Williams, a third-generation landowner and nationally recognized tree farmer; and Michael Gibson, an internationally recognized topiary and property artist.

Gibson kicked off the discussion by reflecting on his personal relationship with nature. Beginning with simple yard work at just seven years old, he described how “what [he] thought was just a chore turned into a passion.” His words echoed a common theme among the panelists– many found healing and direction through their connection to forestry and the land.

Perry soon turned the conversation in a structural direction, detailing what it was like to be among the mere 4% of men in forestry who are African American. He explained how it was this disparity that motivated his work to support other Black landowners in managing their forest land and to “give them the empowerment to know their land matters.”

Williams shared similar sentiments as he described his journey towards making a name for himself within the field. He spoke of the significance of being part of the African American Tree Farm System and the importance of awareness within the community. “Everyone deserves to have beautiful stands of trees on their property,” he said, underscoring the need for both visibility and access in environmental spaces.

(From L to R: Darrell Stover, Michael Gibson, Tyrone Williams, and Alton Perry)

Black Roots in Gardening and Horticulture

The second session shifted from land to legacy, highlighting the power of storytelling, passion, and tradition in gardening and horticulture. In this conversation, gardens went beyond physical spaces and served as personal and cultural archives.

This session was moderated by Grammy Award-winning vocalist and founding member of the Earthseed Land Cooperative, Justin Robinson. The session brought together a group of incredibly talented and dynamic voices including: Wambui Ippolito, founding principal of Wambui designs; Derek Haynes, affectionately known as the “Chocolate Botanist,” a botanist with a vibrant social media presence; and Teri Speight, the author of the “Urban Garden” and “Black Flora.”

The conversation was heavily centered on African American influences in gardening and horticulture. Speight began the conversation, detailing her initial inspiration for gardening. She explained how the hydrangea served as a manifestation of a love for nature and work in the gardens, instilled by her parents. She further explained how the “bloom is endless,” amplifying the ways in which gardening spans across generations.

Following this, the conversation shifted into the inspirations held in gardening. Ippolito said what inspires her is “anything unspoiled by human hands.” She went on to explain how we often forget the ways that we are innately wired to perceive and appreciate natural landscapes—something she believes we must consciously reconnect with.

Haynes shared a key lesson that gardening has taught him: patience. He acknowledged how failure sometimes is inevitable, but clarified that patience allows him to recognize that his efforts “weren’t in vain.” Instead, he views each setback as a chance to “learn and process” making growth–both personal and botanical–possible.

(From L to R Justin Robinson, Wambui Ippolito, Derek Haynes, and Teri Speight)

Reclaiming Our Narratives: Amplifying Black Voices in Environmental Literature and Media

The final session shifted to focus on the deeply rooted relationship between African Americans and the natural world– despite long-standing narratives suggesting otherwise. This session was moderated by Dr. Zelda Lockhart, a writer, musician, and teacher. The session brought together a powerful group of thinkers and creators such as Dr. Jarvis McInnis, an Associate Professor of English at Duke University, and Dr. Chérie Rivers, an Associate Professor of Geography and Environment at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill.

The conversation was centered on reclamation—of memory, space, and identity. Professor Rivers offered powerful insight that drew from Ross Gay’s “Inciting Joy” to reflect on the role of stories as seeds carried by our ancestors through every path of life. She described how we each hold stories someone saved for us, meant to nourish and grow our narratives again and again. She emphasized how these narratives are rooted in love and reflected through storytelling and conversation. For Rivers, education expands the repertoire of what we are capable of loving, and it is through education that she sees the most potential for transmitting and sharing these vital stories. “If we believe we are in a garden to sustain life then we will enact truth,” Rivers said.

McInnis challenged the notion that Black communities are disconnected from nature, emphasizing how stories and landscapes serve as bridges between past and present. He described this by pointing to literary traditions that capture Black ecological thought, reminding us that “it’s about beauty.” For McInnis, reclaiming the therapeutic nature of the land is deeply personal. He spoke of the desire to touch soil, to feel deeply connected, and to follow one’s intuition—acts that affirm both presence and belonging in the natural world.

(From L to R: Dr. Zelda Lockhart, Dr. Chérie Rivers, and Dr. Jarvis McInnis)

In tracing the land, legacy and storytelling, these conversations highlight how gardening goes beyond its physical act– it is a cultural practice, a form of resistance, and a path towards healing. For many African Americans, reclaiming connections to the Earth is not simply about growing plants, but nurturing memory, identity and community. Through these narratives, we are able to see that a garden is not only a site of cultivation, but also of restoration, power, and possibility.

*Post by Gabrielle Douglas, Class of 2027*

How Churches and Communities Are Teaming Up for Climate Resilience

By Noor Nazir

On April 5, 2025

In Climate/Global Change, Religion

As record-breaking heat waves spread across the nation, a new movement is rising.

Houses of worship have long served as anchors during times of crisis. Now, they’re becoming hubs for climate resilience.

At a March 27 gathering in Duke’s Goodson Chapel, faith leaders, organizers, and energy advocates—Pastor Neil Bernard (New Wine Christian Fellowship), Angella Dunston (Warren County Environmental Action Team), and Reverend Leo Woodberry (Kingdom Living Temple and New Alpha Community Development)—came together to discuss powerful initiatives, from solar-powered sanctuaries in Louisiana to grassroots environmental justice campaigns in North Carolina.

The message was clear: no one can do this alone. But together, we can do everything.

Bernard, pastor of a congregation in Louisiana’s St. John the Baptist Parish—one of the most disaster-prone areas in the U.S., opened the evening with urgency and vision. He recalled when Hurricane Ida hit the Bayou State in 2021, and reflected on the death toll from extreme heat. But then he spoke of hope: Community Lighthouses—solar-powered hubs anchored in houses of worship, built to offer electricity and refuge in times of need.

“Right now, we have 19. But the goal is one in every vulnerable community,” Bernard said, his voice rising. “When everyone has power—we have power.” His words weren’t just about electricity. They were about collective strength. Heads nodded. The room hummed in agreement.

These lighthouses didn’t materialize from one church alone—they were born from partnerships across city agencies, utilities, organizers, and faith groups. That’s the model. He said, “The power of teamwork is what makes the dream work.”

Duke’s Ashley Ward (L to R) hosts a panel with Pastor Neil Bernard (New Wine Christian Fellowship), Angella Dunston (Warren County Environmental Action Team), and Reverend Leo Woodberry (Kingdom Living Temple and New Alpha Community Development). Photo by Ashley Stephenson

Woodberry reminded the audience, his voice echoing through the chapel, “Jesus said, I give you power.” He added, “The most common way people give up their power is by believing they don’t have any.” These lighthouses are more than climate infrastructure—they are spiritual anchors grounded in the belief that resilience is holy work.

He argued that religious institutions are America’s greatest untapped asset. “They own land, buildings, communication tools—and they reach more people than any NGO,” he said. “If we fail to activate them, we leave the door open for exploitation.”

These institutions already know how to organize. They’ve been here before.

Dunston, an energy cooperative leader and longtime community advocate, brought the room back to the 1980s in Warren County, North Carolina. When state officials decided to dump toxic soil in her majority-Black neighborhood, the fight started not in courtrooms—but in her church.

“It was the women of our church who stood up,” she said, her voice ringing clear. “We don’t get the acknowledgment, but we do it anyway.”

Faith-based organizations have long played a vital role in responding to crises in our region, experts say. The conversation was part of Duke’s Cooling Communities project advancing community-driven solutions to extreme heat. Photo by Ashley Stephenson

The landfill closed permanently in 2003, but the damage—rising illness, distrust—remains. Still, Dunston has never stopped advocating. Today, she fights utility bills as high as $800 a month in the same communities. Her faith grounds her work, but she also knows that faith alone isn’t enough.

“If policy isn’t working for us, how do we organize our churches and communities?” she asked. “We must fight for those who cannot fight for themselves.”

Dunston stressed the need for partnerships—with government, scientists, and especially universities. Duke University students, for example, have supported advocacy efforts in Warren County. But she noted that faith communities won’t accept help from institutions they don’t trust. “Build relationships before the next crisis,” she urged. “We need data, yes—but we need trust more. Move at the speed of trust.”

The panel left me with an urge to offer this as a call to action: If you’re part of a faith institution, ask yourself—is your house of worship ready to become a community lighthouse? According to them, the climate crisis isn’t coming—it’s here. And the time to act, together, is now.

Farmers, Crops…and Computers?

By Gabrielle Douglas

On December 2, 2024

In Climate/Global Change, Computers/Technology, Engineering, Environment/Sustainability

In Hanjie the rules are simple. In this game of logic and creativity, the players, often working on medium-sized grids of 225 squares, use numbers on the rows and columns as clues to determine which boxes to shade. At first, the prospect of seeing a beautiful picture seems almost unfathomable. However, through patience and collaboration from every corner of the page, these small seemingly random squares gradually come together to reveal a masterpiece—one square at a time.

In a sense the efforts of Duke’s Climate Commitment are no different. The issue of climate change has proven to be a multifaceted one. One in which many parties play a role. However, with initiatives such as Duke’s Forever Learning Institute, the probability of tackling these issues becomes much clearer.

*The logo of Duke’s Forever Learning Institute retrieved from their website.*

Recently Duke’s Forever Learning Institute, an interdisciplinary educational program for Duke alumni, hosted Professors Norbert Wilson and Maiken Mikkelson for a compelling session on the impact of climate change on food and agriculture. Wilson, an agricultural economist and the Director of the World Food Policy Center at Duke, specializes in addressing critical issues related to food access, nutrition, and food security. Mikkelsen, a distinguished expert in physics, electrical, and computer engineering, explores the potential of nanomaterials to revolutionize agricultural processes, paving the way for innovative solutions in the field. Together, they explained how advancements in nanomaterials can improve food security and sustainability.

Throughout the session, Wilson emphasized the concept of food security. He began by clarifying the difference between “food loss” and “food waste.” Food loss occurs at the agricultural level. It refers to food that is produced but never reaches consumers, often due to challenges such as poor harvesting seasons, labor shortages for harvesting, or other natural factors. He describes the ways in which loss occurs across the board but disproportionately affects less developed countries. Wilson also explained how food waste occurs at the consumer level. He details how it goes beyond the waste of a product but is also a waste of the resources used to create that product.

Picture of Professor Norbert Wilson. Photo retrieved from Duke Divinity School.

Wilson illustrated the significance of these issues by drawing out the larger issue of food insecurity. Food insecurity describes an inability to access food or concerns about accessing food. In the United States 13.5 percent of citizens struggle with accessing food. This can lead to a number of negative health outcomes such as cardiovascular issues and diabetes. Food insecurity can also lead to behavioral and performance issues, particularly in young children.

*Infographic about food insecurity retrieved from ECOMERGE.*

This is where Mikkelson comes in. She described a term known as Precision Agriculture. In this, researchers observe and measure agriculture fields and extra data to see what resources such as water, and fertilizer is needed at each part. In this, they hope to retrieve good information through wavelengths as a means of getting a spectral fingerprint that supplies information about the crops. Mikkelsen describes her interest in leveraging nanomaterials to create lightweight, cost-effective hyperspectral cameras capable of capturing detailed spectral fingerprints of crops. She hopes that these materials can be employed around the world, and low resource settings to increase crop yields. The greatest roadblock in this would be the price and issues with widespread application. However, once applied it would hold the ability to detect key characteristics such as nutrient deficiencies, water stress, or disease presence.

Duke Researchers working with Nanotechnology. Image retrieved from Duke Pratt School of Engineering.

Our world is wildly affected by climate change. Climate change and agricultural production hold a very dependent relationship and fixing one side holds the ability to correct the other. This is what makes the work and research of those such as Wilson and Mikelson all the more important. Their efforts show how we can utilize technology to not only enact social change but also reverse our climate issues. Their research highlights not only the urgency of addressing food security and agricultural sustainability but also the transformative potential of interdisciplinary approaches.

Just as the game of Hanjie reveals its masterpiece one square at a time, tackling climate change requires collective effort and patience. Each initiative, whether through advanced nanotechnology or policy-driven solutions, brings us closer to a sustainable future. Duke’s Forever Learning Institute serves as a platform to connect these ideas, inspiring action and innovation that can shape a better tomorrow—one step at a time.

‘Design Climate’ Students Pitch Solutions at Energy Week 2024

By Crystal Han

On November 26, 2024

In Climate/Global Change, Engineering, Entrepreneurship, Environment/Sustainability, Students

Amid the constant drumbeat of campus events, much of the conversation turned toward the challenges we face in energy policy, security and transitions during Duke’s annual Energy Week, held Nov. 11-15.

On the second day, the Innovation Showcase featured not only startups making their pitches for clean energy and sustainable tech products, but students doing so as well.

Currently in its second year, Duke Design Climate is a new initiative between the Pratt School of Engineering and the Nicholas School of the Environment. It functions as a two-course sequence, in which students form groups to prototype and promote climate solutions after conducting market research.

As I made my rounds to the teams, I met a mix of graduate students and undergraduates with academic backgrounds ranging from engineering to economics to environmental science. The ideas they have aren’t purely theoretical: all are looking for sponsors or partners to help implement their solutions into real-world use. Here were some of the highlights:

Team ReefCycle is building from plants: Our first stop is named after the company whose product they intend to scale up. Initially, Mary Lempres founded ReefCycle to develop sustainable material for artificial reefs. Regular industrial production for cement requires intensive heating– burning of fossil fuels–releasing tons of carbon dioxide. ReefCycle sought to reduce this climate impact with a different method: their cement is plant-based and enzymatic, meaning it’s essentially grown using enzymes from beans. Testing in the New York Harbor yielded some promise: the cement appeared to resist corrosion, while becoming home for some oysters. The Design Climate team is now trying to bring it to more widespread use on land, while targeting up to a 90% reduction in carbon emissions across all scopes.

Team Enfield is uplifting a local community: Design Climate, evidently, is by no means limited to science. Instead, these team members intend to address an environmental justice issue close to home: energy inequality. Around 30-35% of Enfield residents live below the poverty line, and yet suffer from some of the highest energy bills in the larger area. Located a ninety minute drive east of Durham, this rural town is one of the poorest in North Carolina. Historic redlining and unfavorable urban planning are responsible for its lack of development, but now this team aims to bring back commerce to the area through microfinance. Once enough funding is gathered from investors and grants, the team hopes to provide microloans and financial literacy to spur and empower businesses.

Team Methamatic promotes a pragmatic e-methane solution: This team is harnessing the power of sunlight to drive fuel production. Synthetic methane, commonly referred to as e-methane, is produced by reacting green hydrogen and carbon dioxide. “Currently, the power-to-gas process can be carbon neutral,” said team member Eesha Yaqub, a senior. “Sourcing the recycled carbon dioxide from a carbon capture facility essentially cancels out the emissions from burning methane.” However, this power-to-gas (P2G) process is an intensive one requiring high heat, energy, and pressure–hoops that might not have to be jumped through if an alternative process could break through the market. Professor Jie Liu and the Department of Chemistry have been working on developing a reactor that would conduct this same reaction without those obstacles. “[Utilizing] the energy from ultraviolet light, which is absorbed by a catalyst …makes the process less energy intensive,” Yaqub said.

Right now, the team has a small prototype, but one used for commercial generation would appear much larger and cost between $15,000 to $20,000. Their intended customers? Oil and gas companies under pressure to shift away from fossil fuels. If successfully scaled up, they predict this process would produce e-methane at a price of $5 per kilogram.

Analyzing living shorelines through Team Coastal Connect: If “Coastal Connect” sounds more like an app than a project name, that’s because it is one. This group is designing what one member dubbed a “fitbit for shorelines”: a monitoring system that brings data from ocean buoys to the phones of local landowners. While measurements in salinity and water level aren’t always telling for the average person, the app would contextualize these into more useful phrases. Is it currently safe to swim? It’ll let you know.

Moreover, it would also allow for the long-term monitoring of living shorelines. While we know this nature-based solution offers resilience to natural disasters and presents erosion, short-term fixes like seawalls are often built instead to continue allowing development up to the edge of beaches. The team hopes that ideally, providing concrete data on living shorelines would allow us to demonstrate their benefits and promote their implementation.

By Crystal Han, Class of 2028

Rethinking the Mutual Relationship Between Science and Justice

By Sarah Pusser

On November 16, 2024

In Climate/Global Change, Environment/Sustainability, Faculty, Field Research, History, Policy

When you think of environmental science, what comes to mind? Studies? Analyses? Hypotheses?

What about environmental justice? Clean air? Restoring forests?

Ryan Emanuel, an associate professor of Hydrology in the Nicholas School of the Environment, redefines these two concepts of environmental science — or shall I say, combines these two concepts. He appeared in person and on Zoom in the Trent Center for Bioethics series recently, presenting his new-ish book: “On the Swamp: Fighting for Indigenous Environmental Justice.”

Through three compelling anecdotes, Emanuel showed us how environmental science and environmental justice can be viewed as a bidirectional relationship.

Story one:
After earning his degree in hydrology from Duke in the 90s, Emanuel pursued advanced studies in evaporation and carbon cycling. With an education, Emanuel began fieldwork — conducting studies and climbing tall towers (all the fun sciencey stuff). However, as a person from North Carolina’s Lumbee Tribe, he noticed the disconnect between his work and his community. He was acutely aware of a cultural emphasis on education –the expectation that you will use your education to give back to your community. He didn’t feel his work in hydrology was serving the Lumbee tribe’s interest, so he decided to change that.

Sean Jones from the Lumbee Tribe (photo by News & Record Final)

During his talk, Emanuel emphasized the significance of “accountability” and “motivation.”

“Examining our motivation can allow us to better understand who we are accountable to in our work… We are all accountable somehow, and we can be accountable in different ways to different groups.”

Understanding that his work had to be accountable for the Lumbee tribe, Emanuel became an ambassador for STEM in higher education. This new path enabled him to mentor youth with tribal backgrounds, prepare them for higher education, and even form strong relationships with them.

Story two:

The EPA says environmental justice is “fair treatment and meaningful involvement of all people in environmental decision-making.”

Emanuel recognized that governments should be accountable for including the voices and opinions of marginalized groups — ‘all people’ — within their environmental decision-making. But Emanuel said there was a dissonance between these promises and reality. One example is the placement of Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations (CAFOs) where livestock are raised in confinement for agricultural purposes.

CAFOs in North Carolina are disproportionately located in communities of minority groups. Many issues arise from this, such as the pollution produced from CAFOs (air and water).

I was shocked to see the many ways that smaller, marginalized communities are affected. These issues are often relatively hidden — not surprising given that mainstream media usually focuses on large (easily observable) community-based discrimination.

Map of locations of CAFOs in North Carolina (photo by Jiyoung Son)

Emanuel began to look at the interplay between environmental science (observation, analysis, testing) and environmental justice (lived experience, regulations, fairness). He let go of the previous idea that environmental science only seeks to provide data and support to drive change in environmental justice. He began to ask, “How can environmental justice improve environmental science?”

Story 3:
Combining his accountability for the Lumbee tribe with his hypothesis about the bidirectional relationship of environmental science and environmental justice, Ryan Emanuel began looking into the observably negative impacts of the Atlantic Coast Pipeline (ACP). Spanning over 600 miles, this gas pipeline will provide many benefits for North Carolina communities, such as lower costs, new jobs, and less pollution, according to Duke Energy.

Emanuel saw that the pipeline route went right through Lumbee territory, which could mean devastating effects for the community, such as health impacts and declining property values.

Proposed Atlantic Coast Pipeline route (photo by SAS Blogs)

The crux of the issue lay in the negligence of project developers who failed to connect with the marginalized communities the pipeline would run through (such as the Lumbee). Tribal voices and input were completely ignored.

Emanuel helped prepare tribal leaders for meetings with corporate representatives and wrote a commentary on the need for the federal government to collaborate with the tribes they would be affecting.

Eventually, after years of lawsuits, the companies in charge of the project abandoned the ACP project. When I searched “Why was the Atlantic Coast Pipeline project canceled?” Duke Energy claimed the cancellation was because of “ongoing delays and increasing cost uncertainty, which threaten(ed) the economic viability of the project.” Other sources provide details on the legal challenges and criticism the project faced.

After the companies dropped the plan, they were quick to purchase forest land near the Lumbee tribe and begin the development of natural gas infrastructures that would allow for the storage of gas when the demand was low and the ability to release the gas when prices went up.

I found it quite impressive that Ryan was able to attend many meetings between the Lumbee Tribe and the company, without saying a word. The tribal council had asked him to only observe and not speak. During one meeting, a representative from the company that purchased the forest land said that they wanted to clarify that “pipelines are not disproportionately located in marginalized communities — they are everywhere.”

Emanuel began testing this hypothesis, eventually gathering enough evidence to statistically prove that there is a “spatial correlation between social vulnerability and pipeline density.” His findings gathered significant media attention and have even been expanded on to show the need for change and increased safety within pipeline communities.

Emanuel concluded by explaining that the principles of environmental justice can show us what questions we should be asking, who we should be asking them of, and who we should be keeping in mind when conducting research.

The statement Emanuel made that stuck with me the most was, “If we value examining problems from all angles, we have to pay attention to which perspectives are missing.”

Ryan Emanuel’s book (photo by The Magazine of the Sierra Club)

After Emanuel’s talk, I was surprised that I had never been introduced to this way of thinking before. It seems like common knowledge that focusing on justice and equity can improve how we investigate problems scientifically. However, it is not completely surprising that this information is not common sense, given the systematic issues within our country.

Emanuel’s book, “On the Swamp: Fighting for Indigenous Environmental Justice,” dives deeper into these concepts about the relationship between environmental justice and environmental science. I believe this book would bring nuance to our world today, where there is a clear need for change and the uplifting of voices that have been quieted for so long.

By Sarah Pusser Class of 2028

Climate of Care: Addressing the Health Impacts of Climate Change

By Gabrielle Douglas

On November 15, 2024

In Climate/Global Change, Global Health, Medicine

In an increasingly polarizing world, the discussion surrounding human rights remains at the forefront of all that we do as a society. People are becoming more aware, as, these days, violations are displayed right before our eyes. With a click of a button or a swipe of the thumb, people are able to see travesties occurring throughout all parts of the world. Developments in technology help us remain knowledgeable about such issues, but what about the offenses that we don’t see—the silent killers that we chalk up to poor fate, to chance? What about the violations in which we ourselves play a major role? These are urgent questions that researchers at the Duke School of Medicine are working to answer, with a specific focus on the deadly impacts of climate change.

In times of crisis, the most disadvantaged communities bear the greatest burden. The researchers recognize that climate change is no different and have strategized ways to reverse these effects. They presented their research in a recent talk, titled Climate Change and Human Health: Creating a Strategic Plan for Duke’s School of Medicine. Associate Professor and lung disease expert Dr. Robert Tighe led the conversation.

*A photo of Dr. Robert Tighe. Courtesy of Duke’s Department of Medicine Website.*

While presenting his research, Tighe identified a major shift in sea surface temperature trends, noting that the trend has deviated greatly from the statistical norm. Although the reasons behind this shift are not fully understood, it is believed to have serious implications, as excess heat poses risks to human health. According to the Centers for Disease Control, increasing temperatures and carbon dioxide have the potential to impact water quality, air pollution, allergens, and severe weather conditions. These conditions, in turn, bring forth respiratory allergies, cholera, malnutrition, and cardiovascular disease, to name a few. Tighe’s research goes beyond the general effects of these issues; it delves into how they disproportionately impact the most vulnerable members of society: children, the elderly, low-income communities, and communities of color.

*A chart containing information about the most vulnerable parts of population to the effects of climate change. Courtesy of Biological Science.*

On a local scale, Tighe highlights that many in these vulnerable positions often lack access to the healthcare necessary to mitigate these impacts. For instance, low-income citizens are often unable to afford the costs associated with repairing the physical damage climate change inflicts on their homes, leaving them exposed to pollutants and the effects of environmental toxins. The elderly also find themselves in similarly precarious scenarios, as many of these situations require evacuation—something not always feasible for those in fragile health. Consequently, they too are left exposed to pollutants and dietary challenges exacerbated by climate change.

On a global scale, these issues heavily impact countries in vulnerable positions. The United States, China, India, the European Union, and Russia are among the largest contributors to carbon emissions. However, the consequences of this burden fall disproportionately on countries like Bangladesh, Haiti, Mozambique, small island nations, and others. Due to their geographic locations, climate change brings far more than just hotter days—it brings devastating hurricanes, tsunamis, cyclones, and widespread malnutrition. The limited financial resources in these nations make rebuilding and mitigating these impacts extraordinarily challenging, especially as many climate effects are recurring. This disparity is particularly frustrating, as these countries contribute only a fraction of the world’s carbon emissions.

*A map of the global climate risks. Courtesy of the New York Times.*

This is precisely what Tighe’s work aims to address. He is working to connect the science on climate change effects, researched by those in the School of Medicine, with that of the Nicholas School of the Environment. Referring to this as an interdisciplinary issue, Tighe believes that the place to begin is within the community. He emphasizes the importance of starting with the people of Durham: What do they need? How can we best help them? How does this affect our own backyard? He stresses the importance of outreach, educating the community on how climate has long-term impacts on their health. Tighe also underscores the need to view this as an opportunity to combine diverse strengths to address the crisis from every angle.

In the face of a climate crisis that goes beyond borders and affects the most vulnerable among us, Tighe’s and his fellow researchers’ work is a call to action. By fostering collaboration between scientific fields and engaging directly with local communities, he develops an approach that is both comprehensive and compassionate. His work reminds us that addressing climate change isn’t just a scientific or political issue—it’s a deeply human one, demanding a united effort for the wellbeing of all under the sun.

Come Meet Some of Your Very Oldest Relatives Right Here in Durham

By Sophie Cox

On November 7, 2024

In Animals, Anthropology, Biology, Climate/Global Change, Environment/Sustainability, Fossils, Lemurs, Science Communication & Education

A few blocks from Duke’s East Campus, there is a small building whose past lives include a dentist office, a real estate office, and a daycare. Now it is a museum.

With over 35,000 specimens, the Duke Lemur Center Museum of Natural History holds the largest and most diverse collection of primate fossils in North America.

A mural on the back wall of the museum, showing animals like the elephant bird at full size.
Photo courtesy of Matt Borths, Ph.D.

Glass cases in the front room are lined with ancient fossils and more recent specimens less than 10,000 years old. Take Lagonomico, a creature that lived some 12-15 million years ago and whose name means “pancake,” in reference to the smashed shape of its remains. Or the tiny skull of a modern-day cotton-top tamarin. Even the enormous egg of an elephant bird, a ten-foot-tall bird that lived in Madagascar until it went extinct sometime in the last 1000 years.

A back room holds fossil discoveries still encased in rock. Special tools and scanning technology will reveal the creatures inside, relics of a very different world that can still yield revelations millions of years after their deaths.

These fossils are still partly encased in rock. Special technology like CT scans can reveal which part of a rock contains a fossil. The marks on the paper indicate where a fossil is located.

Matt Borths, Ph.D., curator of the Duke Lemur Center’s fossils, explained that while many fossil collections focus on a particular location, this one has a different theme: the story of primate evolution.

Lemurs, Borths said, are our most distant primate relatives. About 60 million years ago, soon after the extinction of the dinosaurs, the “lemur line and monkey-ape-human line split.” Studying both modern lemurs and their ancestors can give us a “glimpse of a distant past.”

An ancient lemur ancestor from Wyoming. Primates went extinct in North America over 30 million years ago.

Primates are a group of mammals that include humans and other apes, monkeys, lemurs, lorises, bushbabies, and tarsiers. Many primates today live in Africa and South America, but they did not originate on either continent. Primates are believed to have evolved further north and migrated into Africa about 50 million years ago. As the global climate grew cooler and dryer, equatorial Africa remained warm and wet enough for primates. Over time, apes, monkeys, and lemurs diverged from their shared primate ancestors, but not all of them stayed in Africa.

Africa is currently home to bushbabies and lorises, which are both lemur relatives, but most of lemur evolution and diversification took place in Madagascar, the island nation where all of the world’s 100 species of lemurs live today. “New World monkeys,” meanwhile, are found in South America. How did lemurs and monkeys get from Africa—which was at the time completely surrounded by water—to where they live today? Both groups are believed to have crossed open ocean on rafts of plant material.

Scientists have direct evidence of modern animals rafting across bodies of water, and they believe that ancient lemur and monkey ancestors reached new land masses that way, too. Mangrove systems, adapted to ever-changing coastal conditions, are particularly prone to forming rafts that break away during storms. Animals that are on the plants when that happens can end up far from home. Not all of them survive, but those that do can shape the history of life on earth.

“Given enough time and enough unfortunate primates,” Borths said, “eventually you get one of these rafts that goes across the Mozambique Channel” and reaches Madagascar. Madagascar has been isolated since the time of the dinosaurs, and most of its species are endemic, meaning they are found nowhere else on earth. When lemur ancestors reached the island, they diversified into dozens of species filling different ecological niches. A similar process led to the evolution of New World monkeys in South America.

Some of the species in this case went extinct within the past few centuries.

The history of primate evolution is still a work in progress. The Duke Lemur Center Museum of Natural History seeks to fill in some of the gaps in our knowledge through research on both living lemurs and primate fossils. This museum, Borths said, “brings basically all of primate evolution together in one building.” Meanwhile, living lemurs at the Lemur Center can help researchers understand how primate diets relate to teeth morphology, for example.

Paleontology is the study of fossils, but what exactly is a fossil? The word “fossil,” Borths said, originally referred to anything found in the ground. Over time, it came to mean something organic that turns to stone. Some ancient organisms are not fully fossilized. They can still preserve bone tissue and even proteins, evidence that they have not yet transformed completely into stone. The current definition of a fossil, according to Borths, is “anything from a living organism that is older than 10,000 years old.” Specimens younger than that are called subfossils.

Fossil Preparator Karie Whitman in the Duke Lemur Center Museum of Natural History. The grooves in the stones are made by air scribe tools, which are used to separate fossils from surrounding rock.

The Lemur Center does important research on fossils, but that is not the only component of its mission. Education Programs Manager Megan McGrath said that the Lemur Center weaves together research, conservation, and education in an “incredibly unique cocktail” that “all forms a feedback loop.” McGrath and Borths also co-host a Duke Lemur Center podcast.

Conservation is a crucial component of the study of lemurs. Lemurs are the most endangered mammals on the planet, and some are already gone.

Human and wildlife survival are interlinked in complex ways, and conservation solutions must account for the wellbeing of both. Subsistence agriculture and other direct human activities can decimate ecosystems, but extinctions are also caused by broader issues like climate change, which threatens species on a global scale. Humanity’s impact on Madagascar’s wildlife over the last several thousand years is a “really complicated puzzle to tease apart,” McGrath said.

A display case in the museum, including an egg from the extinct elephant bird and a seed from a mousetrap tree. The mousetrap tree relies on large animals to disperse its seeds. That role was once filled by now-extinct species like the elephant bird. Now humans and cattle disperse the seeds instead.

Some of the museum’s specimens are truly ancient, but others are from modern animals or species that went extinct only recently. Giant elephant birds roamed Madagascar as recently as a thousand years ago. The sloth lemur may have survived until 400 years ago. Borths puts the timescale of recent extinctions into perspective. At a time when modern species like the white-tailed deer were already roaming North America, Madagascar was still home to creatures like sloth lemurs and ten-foot elephant birds.

A model of a sloth lemur skeleton (center, hanging from branch). Sloth lemurs lived in Madagascar until they went extinct about 400 years ago.

A model of a sloth lemur hangs in the museum, but no one alive has ever seen one breathing. No one will ever see or hear one again. But a ghost of it may exist in Malagasy stories about the tretretre, a monster that was said to have long fingers and a short tail. The word tretretre is thought to be an onomatopoeia of the call of a sloth lemur, an animal whose own voice is gone forever.

Learn about these and other stories of our evolutionary cousins at the museum’s next open house on Saturday, November 23, from 1-4 PM.

Post by Sophie Cox, Class of 2025

Art in the Anthropocene: A New Lens on Life

By Sarah Pusser

On October 2, 2024

In Anthropology, Art, Climate/Global Change, Environment/Sustainability, History

In a world shaped by our destructive actions, art emerges as a voice, warning us of the consequences that lie ahead.

We live in a constantly evolving world. Looking at the geologic time scale, we can see the Earth’s changes that have marked new eras all the way from the Archean epoch, 2.5 billion years ago, to today, the Holocene epoch. But how do we know when we are transitioning into a new epoch? And what kinds of changes in our world would lead to this geologic time-scale transition? The exhibition Second Nature: Photography in the Age of the Anthropocene at the Nasher Museum of Art at Duke University offers us answers to these questions with its four thematic sections, “Reconfiguring Nature,” “Toxic Sublime,” “Inhumane Geographies,” and “Envisioning Tomorrow.’

As we begin the exhibition tour, our well-spoken gallery guide, Ruth Caccavale, asks if any of us has ever heard the word “Anthropocene” before. After a short silence, she tells us the literal translation for Anthropocene is “the human epoch,” an appropriate word to describe the geological era we are in right now. Ruth continues to explain that, though not agreed upon when the Anthropocene epoch began (the main arguments being since the Industrial Revolution and since nuclear warfare), people believe the Earth is in a new era, one established by the fact that human impact is the greatest factor in determining the way the world is.

When the Anthropocene epoch was brought to the attention of the geological society, and after more than a decade of debate, they eventually declared that we were not in a new age, keeping us in the Holocene epoch. However, many still accept the term “Anthropocene” and explore what it means to be living in it. Among those exploring the implications of the Anthropocene epoch are the forty-five artists from around the world featured in Second Nature, who, through their photography-based art, expose the complex relationship of beauty and horror in our evolving world and show us how our world is truly controlled by our human impact.

Walking into the exhibit, I first notice the dismal yet meditative music playing quietly overhead. Ruth guides us through the galleries and stops us a considerable distance away from a black-and-white print. “What do you see when you look at this photograph?” she asks. “I see a mountain,” says someone in the crowd. “It looks overwhelming,” I add, noticing the heaviness of the mountain juxtaposed with the brittle buildings in front of it.

*Travelers among Mountains and Streams* from afar

Ruth then asks us to come closer to the photograph, and we all quickly notice that the mountain is not a mountain but instead a structure composed of skyscrapers and architecture.

*Travelers among Mountains and Streams* up close

Based on Fan Kuan’s famous painting from the Song Dynasty, Yang Yongliang, an alumnus of the China Academy of Art, created Travelers Among Mountains and Streams as a warning of what our world could look like if our need to urbanize and develop continued without governing. Yongliang is known for his dystopian recreations of traditional Chinese art, leaving his audience feeling both eerie and in awe. For me, the symbolism of having to step closer to the art to see the true meaning spoke to how it’s easier for people in power to overlook the environmental dangers of development, whereas once we stepped closer and could see each building in detail, we were put in the shoes of those living in urban areas who suffer the most from pollution and overcrowding.

We then made our way through the second section, “Toxic Sublime,” a collection of pieces that show how sometimes the most hazardous areas in the world can be the most beautiful. On the wall is a photo of the remains of a Russian church, buildings next to a nuclear testing site, and a crater from nuclear bomb testing made green to show residual radioactivity.

Danila Tkachenko’s *Radioactive City*, *Contaminated Church*, and *Crater Formed after Nuclear Bomb Test*

Next to it, is the photo of colorful ponds near a lithium mine in Chile. While the composition and colors scream “toxic,” I can’t help but admire the lure of it as well–an invitation to debate the ethics of turning tragedy into something tasteful.

Edward Burtynsky’s *Lithium Mines #1, Salt Flats, Atacama Desert, Chile*

Upon entering the third section, “Inhumane Geographies” (the theme I personally found most captivating), we are greeted by a somewhat overstimulating gallery of an orange and red island scene, with a singular purple and blue photo plastered in front of them. Sanne De Wilde’s Island of the Colorblind, told the story of a Micronesian community, who in the 18th century were devastated by a typhoon, leaving only 20 people alive. Among those left was the King, who began repopulating the Pingelap community. The King, however, carried the gene for color blindness, causing more than 10% of the Pingelap population today to be colorblind. Island of the Colorblind not only shows me how our environment and climate can truly change who we are, but it also gives voice to the Pingelap’s unique perspective on how color for them means something truly different–thus why Wilde chose to edit the photo in a way where chlorophyll (what makes trees green) creates a pink color in the photo.

As Ruth brings us to the final section, “Envisioning Tomorrow,” I am immediately drawn in by Aïda Muluneh’s collection of four photographs depicting women dressed in lavish blue and red clothing against the arid landscape behind them. As part of Afrofuturism, a form of science fiction art that explores the history and future of Africa and its people, Muluneh’s pieces challenge the stereotypes surrounding women gathering water in Africa. The pieces bring attention to the implications of women’s role in getting water, as it requires an immense amount of time and makes them vulnerable to sexual violence. Ruth also informs us that the artist grew up in Ethiopia and uses her art to emphasize the issue of water scarcity there. As my peers and I look at Muluneh’s colorfully piercing and empowering art, we can’t help but be speechless.

Regardless of whether or not the geological society accepts the Anthropocene as an epoch, we as humans need to open our eyes and understand that our actions have consequences, even if they may not affect us personally. We are changing the world… a lot. But if we can break it apart, we can also build it back up. Leaving the exhibit, I feel heartbroken for the ways we have torn apart our world, unsettled in the ways our destruction can still be beautiful, curious in how my environment has shaped me, and yet hopeful that we as humans can come together, acknowledge the wrong we have done, and begin to undo the damage. For those who may not understand how dire our situation is, studying the work of the 45 artists featured in Second Nature might be a good start.

By Sarah Pusser, Class of 2028

Students Offer Their Voices of Change to Climate Commitment

By Gabrielle Douglas

On April 2, 2024

In Climate/Global Change, Science Communication & Education, Students

In a society where it seems like the power to create meaningful change on climate concerns is concentrated in the hands of few, witnessing the youth attempt to counter this dynamic is always inspiring.

Last week, members of Duke University’s Climate and Sustainability Office convened with students for a town hall meeting to discuss current progress, areas for improvement, and aspirations for the future. During this meeting, great emphasis was placed on the opinions and perspectives of students, as the leaders of the Duke climate commitment recognized the importance of their voices within this process.

The meeting began with two thought-provoking questions by Toddi Steelman, Vice President and Vice Provost for Climate and Sustainability, and Tavey Capps, Executive Director of Climate and Sustainability and Sustainable Duke: “What is one word to describe your feelings towards climate change, and what energizes you about climate change?”

These two questions immediately brought the room to life as students began to express their climate anxiety, fears, and frustrations, alongside the ways in which they hoped to one day see change. This passionate discussion set the stage for a deep dive into the objectives and goals of Duke’s Climate Commitment.

*L to R: Toddi Steelman and Tavey Capps*

The Climate Commitment is a university-wide effort aimed at creating initiatives to correct our current climate crisis by creating a sustainable environment for all.

Within the commitment, there are five areas of focus: Research, Education, External Engagement, Operations, and Community Connections. The research sector is focused on connecting Duke’s schools across the board for interdisciplinary research. Education is geared towards ensuring learning occurs in and beyond the classroom. External Engagement focuses on informing policy and decision makers alongside engaging community members within this mission. Operations studies the food, water, waste, energy, and carbon supply chain on campus. Lastly, Community Connections asks: how do we authentically engage with the community and partners alike?

This commitment serves as a broad scale invitation for everyone to get involved, and Duke students did not hesitate to take advantage of this invitation. The town hall was organized through breakout rooms for the students to collectively share ideas.

The first breakout room was focused on the idea of communication. In this, students discussed the ways that they felt the commitment could best reach their peers on campus. Some proposed utilizing the popular social media platform, TikTok by creating short eye-catching videos. Others discussed using professors, posters, and BC Plaza to ensure engagement. Most agreed that email listservs and newsletters also held some merit in getting their classmate’s attention.

Above all, students came to the consensus that informing the student body would be one of the most important missions of the Climate Commitment.

Following the communication session, I attended the research breakout room led by Blake Tedder from the Office of Sustainability and formerly the Director of Engagement at the Duke Forest. He asked again about the most pressing climate issue. From this, many students delved into issues surrounding biodiversity financing, carbon offsetting, access to clean water, and the ways climate change disproportionately affects marginalized communities.

*Blake Tedder leading the Research Breakout Room.*

Conversation about these concerns quickly bled into issues surrounding the larger prospect of interdisciplinary studies. Many students felt that this was best done through Duke’s RESILE initiative (Risk Science for Climate Resilience), Bass Connections, and even greater connection between Duke’s main campus and its Kunshan Campus.

The final room I attended was geared towards making the fight against climate change one that is inclusive and diverse. This talk was coordinated by Jason Elliot from Sustainable Duke.

The question that guided the discussion was: “How can we ensure our goals do not come at the expense of the community?” To this, students proposed a range of ideas. Chief among these were becoming more in tune with the needs of the community and finding ways to actively attend local farms, and other places in need.

*Jason Elliot leading the Justice, Diversity, and Equity Inclusion Breakout Room.*

In addition, many suggested diversifying speakers to ensure representation and voices from all parts of the community. Some students even narrowed in on engagement within our own campus, suggesting greater collaboration among groups such as the Climate Coalition, Keep Durham Beautiful, and Alpha Phi Omega to achieve these goals.

This town hall was simply one of many future engagements expected from Duke’s Climate Commitment in the coming years. While there is still much more work to be done, the diligent efforts of students and faculty alike make the future look promising in the fight against Climate Change.