22/01/2026

The River Murray at a crossroads in a hotter, drier Australia - Lethal Heating Editor BDA

Key Points
  • The River Murray runs for more than 2,500 kilometres across three eastern states and the ACT, draining a vast semi-arid basin.[1]
  • The river underpins billions of dollars in irrigated agriculture and supplies drinking water to major inland cities and regional towns.[2]
  • Climate change is driving declining streamflows, hotter conditions and more frequent extremes, tightening water security for communities and ecosystems.[3]
  • Traditional Owners along Murrundi hold deep cultural, spiritual and economic connections to the river and are seeking greater say over water.[4]
  • The Murray–Darling Basin Plan has recovered water for the environment, but many wetlands, floodplains and the Coorong still show signs of stress.[5]
  • Climate adaptation will demand tougher trade-offs, smarter environmental watering and stronger inclusion of First Nations water knowledge.[6]

The River Murray is flowing under growing climate strain, and what happens to its water will shape the future of inland south-eastern Australia.[3]

Stretching across Queensland, New South Wales, the Australian Capital Territory, Victoria and South Australia, it anchors the wider Murray–Darling Basin, which covers about one seventh of the continent.[1]

More than two million people rely directly on Murray water for drinking, farming and industry, while many more depend on basin food and fibre exports.[2]

The river is also central to the cultures and economies of dozens of First Nations who know it as Murrundi and other names, and who regard flowing water as a living ancestor rather than a commodity.[4]

Over the past two decades, climate change, over-extraction and prolonged drought have exposed how fragile this system can be, from choking algal blooms to the ecological trauma of the Millennium Drought and the fish kills at Menindee.[3]

Governments have responded with the Murray–Darling Basin Plan, which aims to return more water to the river, but the Plan is now being tested by a hotter, drier and more volatile climate.[5]

As the Basin Plan approaches key review points and climate projections harden, the River Murray has become a frontline test of whether Australia can share a shrinking resource fairly while keeping a vast river system alive.[6]

Scale, shape and character of a working river

The River Murray is Australia's longest river, flowing for about 2,508 kilometres from its headwaters in the Australian Alps of New South Wales and Victoria to the Murray Mouth at the Coorong in South Australia.[1]

It is part of the Murray–Darling Basin, an inland catchment of roughly one million square kilometres that collects water from mostly semi-arid landscapes before delivering it through locks, weirs and barrages to the Southern Ocean.[1]

The river's natural flow once rose and fell with the seasons, with snowmelt and winter–spring rain driving high flows and periodic floodplain inundation, and hot summers bringing reduced baseflows.[1]

Over the past century, large dams, storages and more than a dozen weirs have reshaped those rhythms, smoothing peaks and boosting reliability for irrigation, navigation and urban supply at the cost of reduced flood frequency and altered habitat.[5]

At its lower end, the system fans out into the Lower Lakes and Coorong, a complex of freshwater and estuarine wetlands where the balance between river inflows, tides and evaporation is tightly managed through barrages.[5]

Salinity is a constant management challenge, as clearing, irrigation and reduced flows mobilise ancient salts in soils and groundwater, threatening crops, infrastructure and the health of river red gum floodplains.[5]

Economic engine, ecological lifeline, cultural home

The River Murray underpins one of Australia's most productive food bowls, supporting irrigated industries such as cotton, rice, grapes, citrus, almonds, dairy and horticulture worth several billion dollars a year in gross value.[2]

The river and its storages supply drinking water to inland centres including Adelaide, regional cities such as Mildura and Albury–Wodonga, and countless smaller communities along its length.[2]

Tourism, recreation and houseboat industries also rely on Murray flows, drawing visitors to fishing grounds, wetlands, national parks and riverside towns in all three downstream states.[2]

Ecologically, the Murray supports internationally recognised wetlands such as the Barmah–Millewa Forest, Chowilla Floodplain, Hattah Lakes and the Coorong and Lakes Alexandrina and Albert Ramsar sites, which provide habitat for waterbirds, native fish and floodplain forests.[5]

Many of these ecosystems depend on periodic overbank floods that recharge billabongs, wetlands and groundwater, disperse nutrients and trigger fish breeding and bird nesting events.[14]

When these floods are too rare or too small because of extractions and climate change, river red gums stress, black box woodlands thin, and native fish and bird populations decline.[5]

For First Nations across the basin, including the Ngarrindjeri at the Murray Mouth and the First Peoples of the River Murray and Mallee in South Australia, the river is a cultural landscape embedded in creation stories, law, ceremony and day-to-day subsistence.[4]

Traditional Owners have long argued that "cultural flows" – water entitlements owned and managed by Indigenous nations to sustain cultural, spiritual and economic values – must sit alongside environmental and consumptive uses in basin planning.[15]

Climate change, extremes and water quality stress

Australia has already warmed by about 1.5 degrees since 1910, and this has intensified heatwaves, increased evaporation and altered rainfall patterns over the Murray–Darling Basin.[13]

CSIRO and Bureau of Meteorology analyses show significant declines in cool-season rainfall and streamflows in the southern basin, with roughly one third of gauges recording reduced annual flows and fewer days of high flows.[13]

For the Murray, this means less reliable runoff from key catchments, more frequent low flows and a greater reliance on large storages to buffer years of drought.[10]

Climate modelling for the Basin suggests that a 5 percent drop in average annual rainfall by mid-century could translate into around a 20 percent reduction in average runoff, amplifying pressure on allocations even in non-drought years.[10]

Hotter, drier periods increase the risk of blue-green algal blooms, hypoxic "blackwater" events and fish kills, as low flows, warm water and high nutrient loads deplete oxygen and stress aquatic life.[16]

The 2018–19 Menindee fish kills in the Darling–Baaka and subsequent blackwater episodes downstream highlighted how compounded stresses from drought, over-extraction and extreme heat can push river ecosystems past tipping points.[13]

Conversely, climate change is also associated with more intense rainfall events, and the 2022–23 River Murray high flow was the second highest on record, delivering major ecological benefits but also widespread flooding and water quality risks.[16]

These extremes create management dilemmas, because operators must juggle flood mitigation, environmental outcomes and consumptive supply in a system with finite storage and rapidly changing inflows.[19]

Who gets the water, and how is it changing?

Water in the Murray is governed under the Murray–Darling Basin Plan, agreed in 2012 under the Commonwealth Water Act and implemented through state water resource plans, water sharing rules and a cap on overall diversions.[17]

The Plan sets a sustainable diversion limit and has recovered more than 2,100 gigalitres of water entitlements across the basin for environmental use, largely through buybacks and irrigation efficiency projects.[17]

Commonwealth and state environmental water holders now coordinate releases to mimic aspects of natural flow regimes, targeting key wetlands, floodplains and channel habitats along the Murray and its tributaries.[14]

Evaluation by South Australian agencies suggests that environmental watering has improved connectivity, water quality and habitat condition in many Murray floodplain and wetland assets, even as broader pressures persist.[11]

At the same time, irrigators, towns and industries continue to depend heavily on reliable allocations, and water markets allow entitlements and temporary allocations to be traded across regions and sectors.[17]

During droughts, high-security entitlements and critical human needs, including basic town water supplies and certain cultural and environmental requirements, are prioritised, but low-security users can face severe allocation cuts.[17]

First Nations groups have secured only a small fraction of basin water entitlements despite their recognised rights and interests, and many are calling for dedicated cultural water allocations in future Basin Plan reforms.[18]

Groundwater is an often overlooked part of the picture, yet studies point to falling levels in several major alluvial systems under both extraction and climate change, with implications for baseflows and long-term reliability.[19]

Future water security and what must happen next

Climate projections for south-eastern Australia point towards a future of higher temperatures, more frequent hot and dry years, shorter and sharper floods, and increasing evaporation losses from storages and floodplains.[13]

For the River Murray, this means the historical record is no longer a safe guide, and planners must stress-test water sharing rules, infrastructure and environmental watering programs against more extreme scenarios.[10]

Analyses underpinning the Basin Plan review process emphasise that current diversion limits and recovery targets may not be enough to protect key ecological assets and water quality under mid- to high-emissions climate pathways.[19]

Regional planners will need to consider more ambitious water recovery, smarter use of constraints relaxation to deliver overbank flows, and closer integration of surface water and groundwater management.[11]

They will also have to grapple with difficult questions about land use, such as whether some high-water-demand crops and marginal irrigation areas will remain viable under tighter limits and more volatile allocations.[17]

For policymakers, the challenge is to align climate mitigation, adaptation and water policy, ensuring that basin communities, First Nations and ecosystems are not left to absorb the costs of deferred decisions.[18]

That will require firm national emissions cuts to reduce long-term warming, robust funding for adaptation and river restoration, and genuine power-sharing with Traditional Owners over how water is owned, governed and used.[13]

If governments treat the River Murray as a barometer of climate readiness, rather than a reservoir to be exhausted, the choices made this decade can still bend the system towards a more resilient and just future.[6]

What regional planners and policymakers must focus on

Regional planners now face a narrowing climate window and must prioritise rigorous climate modelling, transparent trade-offs and scenario planning that acknowledges declining average flows and more volatile extremes.[10]

They need to update land-use and settlement strategies so that new housing, irrigation expansion and industrial growth occur in locations with secure, climate-robust water sources rather than in already stressed reaches.[19]

Policymakers must ensure the next Basin Plan review strengthens, rather than weakens, sustainable diversion limits, and that environmental water portfolios are large and flexible enough to maintain key ecological functions under harsher conditions.[11]

Embedding Indigenous water rights, co-governance and cultural flows in legislation and planning will be essential for both justice and resilience, because Traditional Owner knowledge offers locally grounded insight into how rivers respond to change.[18]

Targeted investment in demand management, efficient urban and agricultural use, and nature-based solutions such as wetland restoration can buy critical time as climate impacts intensify.[14]

Above all, the River Murray forces a clear choice on governments: whether to plan early for a future with less water, or to wait for the next crisis and again discover the costs of treating climate risk as tomorrow's problem.[6]

References

  1. Murray–Darling Basin Authority – Rivers of the Basin
  2. Murray–Darling Basin Authority – Basin economy and communities
  3. CSIRO & Bureau of Meteorology – Australia's changing climate
  4. South Australian Government – Traditional Owners of the SA River Murray
  5. South Australian Government – Basin Plan and environmental outcomes for the River Murray, Lower Lakes and Coorong
  6. Productivity Commission – Murray–Darling Basin Plan Review submissions
  7. South Australia State of the Environment – River Murray environmental challenges
  8. South Australian Government – Basin Plan monitoring and evaluation
  9. CSIRO & Bureau of Meteorology – State of the Climate
  10. Commonwealth Environmental Water Holder – Flow-MER program
  11. AIATSIS – Cultural flows in Murray River Country
  12. Goyder Institute – 2022–23 River Murray high flow environmental response
  13. National Irrigators' Council – Murray–Darling Basin Plan overview
  14. Australian Human Rights Commission – Water and Indigenous rights in the Murray–Darling Basin
  15. CSIRO – Submission to the Murray–Darling Basin Plan Review 2023

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21/01/2026

We discovered microbes in bark ‘eat’ climate gases. This will change the way we think about trees - The Conversation

The Conversation -

boris misevic knqZ N qJQk unsplash. Boris Misevic/Unsplash, CC BY


Authors
  • Luke Jeffrey, Postdoctoral Research Fellow, Southern Cross University
  • Chris Greening, Professor, Microbiology, Monash University
  • Damien Maher, Professor in Earth Sciences, Southern Cross University
  • Pok Man Leung, Research Fellow in Microbiology, Monash University
Key Points
  • Bark contains up to 6 trillion microbial cells per square meter, comparable to stars in 60 Milky Way galaxies, forming active communities across species like paperbarks and eucalypts.​
  • Microbes perform "aerotrophy," metabolising atmospheric gases including methane (a key warming driver), toxic carbon monoxide, and hydrogen for energy.​
  • Wetland trees host methanotrophs that eat methane internally, while all tested trees consistently remove hydrogen at every height and forest type.​
  • Globally, tree bark's surface area rivals Earth's land, enabling microbes to remove ~55 million tonnes of hydrogen yearly, indirectly offsetting up to 15% of human methane emissions.​
  • Bark also clears carbon monoxide, aiding urban air quality where levels are high from fossil fuels.​
  • Findings suggest prioritising gas-eating microbe species in reforestation could enhance climate strategies, conservation, and carbon accounting.

We all know trees are climate heroes. They pull carbon dioxide out of the air, release the oxygen we breathe, and help combat climate change.

Now, for the first time, our research has uncovered the hidden world of the tiny organisms living in the bark of trees. We discovered they are quietly helping to purify the air we breathe and remove greenhouse gases.

These microbes “eat”, or use, gases like methane and carbon monoxide for energy and survival. Most significantly, they also remove hydrogen, which has a role in super-charging climate change.

What we discovered has changed how we think about trees. Bark was long assumed to be largely biologically inert in relation to climate. But our findings show it hosts active microbial communities that influence key atmospheric gases. This means trees affect the climate in more ways than we previously realised.

The Australian paperbark tree is a hardy wetland species and 
a hotspot for microbial life.
Luke Jeffrey, CC BY-ND

Teeming with life

Over the past five years, collaborative research between Southern Cross and Monash universities studied the bark of eight common Australian tree species. These included forest trees such as wetland paperbarks and upland eucalypts. We found the trees in these contrasting ecosystems all shared one thing in common: their bark was teeming with microscopic life.

We estimate a single square metre of bark can hold up to 6 trillion microbial cells. That’s roughly the same number of stars in about 60 Milky Way galaxies, all squeezed onto the surface area of a small table.

To find out what these bark microbes were doing, we first used a technique called metagenomic sequencing. In simple terms, this method reads the DNA of every microorganism in a sample at once. If normal DNA sequencing is like reading one book, metagenomics is like scanning an entire library. We pulled out clues about who lived in the bark and which “tools” or enzymes they might have.

Dr Bob Leung preparing bark samples for lab measurements at Monash University. Jialing Zeng, CC BY-ND

A simple analogy is to imagine a construction site where each tradespeople carries different tools. While some tools overlap, many are specific to their trade. If you see a pipewrench, you can deduce a plumber is around.

In a similar way, metagenomics showed us the “tools” the microbes were carrying in their DNA – genes that let them eat atmospheric gases like methane, hydrogen or carbon monoxide. This gave us valuable insight into what the bark microbes could do.

But, like a construction site, having tools doesn’t mean the “tradies” are using them for jobs all the time. So we also measured the movement of gases in and out of the bark to see which microbial “jobs” were happening in real time. 

The research team taking field measurements and collecting bark samples in tropical forests near Darwin. Luke Jeffrey, CC BY-ND

Bark microbes eat gases

Many of the microbes living in bark can live off various gases. This is a process recently coined as “aerotrophy”, as in “air eaters”. Some of their favourite gases include methane, hydrogen and carbon monoxide, all of which affect the climate and the quality of the air we breath.

Methane is a potent greenhouse gas, responsible for about one third of human-induced warming. We found most wetland trees contained specialist bacteria called methanotrophs, that eat methane from within the tree.

We also saw abundant microbial enzymes that remove carbon monoxide, a toxic gas for both humans and animals. This suggests tree bark helps clean the air we breathe. This could be particularly useful in urban forests, as cities often have elevated levels of this harmful and odourless gas.

But one finding stood out above all others. Within every tree species examined, in every forest type, and at every stem height, bark microbes consistently removed hydrogen from the air. In other words, trees could be a major, previously unrecognised, global natural system for drawing down hydrogen out of the atmosphere.

Measuring paperbark tree stem gases using a stem gas flux chamber in a freshwater wetland. Luke Jeffrey, CC BY-ND

Global possibilities

When we scaled up what these microbes were doing across all trees globally, the potential impact becomes striking. There are about 3 trillion trees on Earth, and together their bark has a huge cumulative surface area, rivalling that of the entire land surface of the planet.

Taking this into account, our calculation suggests that tree-microbes could remove as much as 55 million tonnes of hydrogen from the atmosphere each year.

Why does this matter? Hydrogen affects our atmosphere in ways that influence the lifetime of other greenhouse gases – especially methane. In fact, hydrogen emissions may be “supercharging” the warming impact of methane.

By using a simple model, the annual amount of hydrogen removed by bark microbes may indirectly offset up to 15% of annual methane emissions caused by humans.

In other words, if tree bark microbes weren’t doing this work, there would be more methane in the atmosphere, and our rising methane problem could be even bigger.

This also hints at another exciting possibility: planting trees could expand this microbial atmosphere-cleaning potential, giving microbes more surface area to apply their trade and help remove even more climate damaging gases from the air.

The ‘barkosphere’

Our research points to many exciting new possibilities and uncertainties around the previously hidden role of a tree’s “barkosphere”.

We want to know which tree species host the most active “gas-eating” microbes, which forests remove the most methane, carbon monoxide or hydrogen, and how climate change may alter these communities and their activities.

This knowledge could help guide future reforestation, conservation, carbon accounting strategies. It may even change the way we try and limit climate change.

Trees have always regulated our climate. But now we know their bark – and the hard working microscopic ecosystems living inside – may be far more important than previously thought. 

The results of this research could have major implications for how we use trees to combat global warming. 
Luke Jeffrey
, CC BY-ND

References

20/01/2026

De-icing the Earth: a fatal human choice. - Julian Cribb

 Surviving the 21st Century - Julian Cribb 

AUTHOR
Julian Cribb AM is an Australian science writer and author of seven books on the human existential emergency. His latest book is How to Fix a Broken Planet (Cambridge University Press, 2023)

Having just achieved the hottest three years in recorded history, humans are well on the way to returning the planet to the ice-free state it experienced when dinosaurs last ruled.

The result will be flooding on a Biblical scale, the progressive loss of most of the world’s great cities and coastlines, storms of appalling ferocity, vast dumps of rain and almost continual heatwaves in the most populated regions. Great rivers will empty, deserts will sprawl, wildfires, famine and drought will prevail. Extinctions will multiply and sea life suffer a major die off.

These are the conditions that science now agrees will accompany the loss of the Earth’s ice, that humans have now wilfully set in train.

“Global ice losses will likely continue with ongoing climate warming, culminating in an almost ice-free planet analogous to that which persisted throughout much of the Cretaceous,” an international team of scientists working for the Tibetan Laboratory of the China Academy of Sciences has warned.

“Given ongoing and anticipated global warming, reductions in Arctic and Antarctic ice are expected to continue, potentially leading to completely ice-free polar regions. Despite uncertainties in these predictions, we transition from a world with perennial glacier ice to one with only seasonal ice or shifting from a predominantly white winter planet to a blue one,” they added.

Loss of Arctic sea ice 2000-23.



Indeed, the first ‘blue water event’ – an ice-free Arctic Ocean in summer – is predicted to occur as early as 2027, and almost certainly before 2030. Not only will the northern ice cap disperse, albeit briefly, but the loss of the reflective surface of the ice (albedo) and appearance of more dark ocean will significantly accelerate the Earth’s uptake of heat from the sun, pushing global heating into overdrive.

The last time the Earth was ice free was around 60 million years ago, shortly after the dinosaurs made their exit. At that time, scientists have found, a few embryonic glaciers appeared in the high mountains of the Antarctic. The rest of the planet was ice-free.

The 2025 State of the Cryosphere Report warns of “disaster for billions” resulting from human failure to control global heating, and the resulting universal loss of ice. “The European Alps, Scandinavia, North American Rockies and Iceland would lose at least half their ice at or below sustained global temperatures of +1°C, and nearly all ice at +2°C,” it states.

Global heating is already well beyond the tipping point for loss of the world’s glaciers
 “There is no negotiating with the melting point of ice,” it points out. Keeping sea level rise within manageable limits requires returning global warming to +1 degree, the report said. As things stand, temperatures are already at +1.5 degrees, and rising, portending several metres of sea level rise before the end of the century.

Both polar ice caps are melting much faster than previously anticipated. The Arctic is warming four times faster than the rest of the planet, and the loss of its sea ice is accelerating the process. In the Antarctic, mighty glaciers such as the Thwaites, are proving more fragile and prone to collapse than their sheer mass suggests: this one ice river alone could discharge 50 billion tonnes of meltwater into the ocean, raising sea levels by 1.5-2 metres.

Meanwhile global warming in equatorial regions is driving vast undersea currents, like heated hose pipes, to dissolve the polar ice sheets. In the north the Greenland Ice Sheet (GrIS) has lost over 5000 square kilometres of ice weighing a billion tonnes, since the mid-1980s. Every one of its glaciers has either thinned or retreated.

Using the Prudhoe Dome, in northern Greenland, as a thermostat, glaciologists have calculated that the last time it was ice-free was in the warm spell immediately following the end of the last ice age, about 7000 years ago. At that time local temperatures were up by +3-5 degrees – a level again likely to be reached by 2100. This points to the north of Greenland being ice-free again by the end of the century, pushing sea levels up by 7-8 metres on its own.

Worldwide, glaciers are providing science with an accurate, undeniable, measure of the extent and speed of global warming.

The latest global assessment finds they have been losing around 275 billion tonnes of ice every year since 2000. The rate of ice loss has increased by around 36 billion tonnes a year between the first and second decades of the current century.

Thousands of glaciers have already vanished. Around 750 more disappear each year. Local communities have held funeral ceremonies for their dying ice sheets.

Those who wish to observe the destruction can do so on the Global Glacier Casualty List. The 11 regions with the highest annual glacier melt rates between 2000-2023, measured in billion of tons per year, are:

  • Alaska: 60.8.
  • Greenland: 35.1.
  • Arctic Northern Canada: 30.5.
  • Southern Andes/region: 26.5.
  • Southern Canadian Arctic: 23.1.
  • Antarctica and sub-Antarctic islands: 16.9.
  • Russian Arctic: 16.1.
  • Svalbard and Jan Mayen, Norway: 13.7.
  • Central Asia: 10.4.
  • Western Canada and USA: 9.0.
  • Iceland: 8.3.

Europe’s Alpine regions are due to reach ‘peak loss’ of their glaciers in the next eight years. In North America peak loss will occur in the 2040s.

Current climate action plans will, at best, restrain global warming to +2.7 degrees in 2100, at which temperature around 80% of the world’s glaciers will be gone. Under ‘business as usual’ greenhouse emissions, the glacial deathrate will be almost total.

Many societies, in their blinkered and self-centred ways, are indifferent to the loss of polar and glacial ice, its environment, birds and animals, However, what happens at the poles does not stay at the poles: every human will be affected.

Ice is the Earth’s air conditioner. When it shuts down, the planet faces relentless, baking heat on a scale that human engineering cannot overcome. As daily wet-bulb[i] thermometers creep past +32, humans and other large animals will die like flies.

Without its cooling influence, local climates will become more violent and acute. Whole ecosystems will die together with most of their plants and animals. Human food and water systems will collapse, taking economies and governments with them. Wars will break out and refugee movements become tidal. The world’s coastal cities will be flooded to the third storey of their skyscrapers.

That is the future now decreed by countries such as the US, Russia, Saudi Arabia, Australia, Brazil and, to a lesser degree, by China and India, thorough their pro-fossil energy policies.

The de-icing of planet Earth is a fatal human choice – to which there are alternatives, but from which, it seems, we are loath to turn aside.

Note 

[i] Wet bulb temperatures are a combination of air temperature, humidity, radiant heat and air movement (eg wind). Humans reach their limit at body temperature and begin to cook.

Julian Cribb Articles

19/01/2026

Australia's 2026 Climate Pivot: Balancing Net Zero Ambition with Economic Resilience - Lethal Heating Editor BDA

Key Points
  • Australia’s 2026 climate policy settings must close a growing gap between current trajectories and a credible path to net zero while keeping productivity and incomes rising.1
  • Rapid grid investment, firmed renewables and orderly coal exit are central to containing power prices and maintaining reliability this decade.2
  • Industrial decarbonisation and green-technology exports hinge on targeted support for green metals, hydrogen and critical minerals alongside clear carbon price signals.3
  • Agriculture and land use will make up a rising share of national emissions without stronger incentives for methane reduction and large-scale carbon sequestration.4
  • Economic modelling shows that well‑designed transition policies can protect most households while steering capital into more productive, climate‑aligned sectors.5
  • The politics of 2026 will turn on whether governments can align climate ambition with regional jobs, skills, and clear rules for investors and communities.6

On a hot January afternoon in 2026, the Australian economy looks deceptively familiar: coal trains still snake towards export terminals, suburbs hum with air conditioners, and gas peakers fire to keep the lights on as rooftop solar fades with the sun.1

Beneath that surface, however, the numbers tell a sharper story of accelerating climate risk and a narrowing window for orderly transition.1

Australia’s climate has already warmed by about 1.5 degrees since records began in 1910, amplifying heat extremes, damaging infrastructure and productivity, and raising the economic costs of fire, flood and drought.1

Electricity generation has changed quickly, with renewables supplying close to 40 per cent of national grid power in 2023 and hitting record moments above 70 per cent in the National Electricity Market, yet coal remains a major backbone of supply and exports.2

At the same time, agriculture, heavy industry and resources continue to contribute a large share of emissions while underpinning regional jobs and export income, making transition design a core economic question rather than a niche environmental one.4

Federal and state governments now face a 2026 policy choice: whether to lock in a credible pathway to net zero that also boosts productivity, or to delay reforms and risk disorderly shocks in prices, employment and trade competitiveness later in the decade.5

The policies adopted this year will help determine whether Australia can cut emissions fast enough to meet its targets while sustaining real wage growth, attracting investment, and cushioning households and regions exposed to structural change.5

The 2026 policy baseline

Australia enters 2026 with a legislated national target to cut emissions by 43 per cent below 2005 levels by 2030 and to reach net zero by 2050, supported by a package of federal laws including the reformed Safeguard Mechanism for large emitters and a strengthened Renewable Energy Target framework.1

The Climate Change Authority’s recent Sector Pathways Review sets out potential technology pathways across electricity, industry, transport, resources, agriculture, land and the built environment, emphasising accelerated deployment of known technologies rather than speculative breakthroughs this decade.1

State and territory governments have layered their own commitments on top, from Victoria’s and New South Wales’ renewable energy zones and coal exit timetables, to Queensland’s public‑ownership based transition plan and South Australia’s high‑renewables grid experience.2

Economists at the Productivity Commission and Treasury describe the net zero shift as a major reallocation of capital and labour that, if handled well, can lift long‑run productivity by delivering cheaper, cleaner energy, but warn that policy gaps and uncertainty risk stranded assets and higher transition costs.5

At the same time, official projections highlight that existing policies alone leave a shortfall to more ambitious 2035 trajectories consistent with Australia’s fair share of global efforts, meaning 2026 decisions on standards, tax settings and public investment will shape future target credibility.1

Central to this year’s policy debate is how to sequence reforms so that coal‑dependent regions, emissions‑intensive trade‑exposed industries and farm communities can adjust without abrupt employment shocks or sudden price spikes for households.5

Powering the economy: energy, firming and the grid

The electricity system sits at the heart of Australia’s transition because cutting power‑sector emissions enables decarbonisation in transport, buildings and some industrial processes through electrification.2

By 2023 renewables already supplied almost 40 per cent of national electricity generation, driven by wind and large‑scale solar backed by a surge in rooftop solar that now sits on more than three million homes.2

The Australian Energy Market Operator’s 2024 Integrated System Plan finds that to reach 82 per cent renewable electricity by 2030 while maintaining reliability, the National Electricity Market needs to roughly triple its capacity, add at least 6 gigawatts of large‑scale renewable generation each year and build extensive new transmission lines to connect renewable energy zones to load centres.2

AEMO’s optimal development path projects that firming capacity, including batteries, pumped hydro and flexible gas, must at least quadruple by 2050, with about 49 gigawatts of dispatchable storage and 15 gigawatts of flexible gas generation needed to manage variability and keep the system secure.2

Industry leaders warn that transmission bottlenecks, social licence challenges and planning delays are now among the main constraints on investment, with projects facing multi‑year approval processes and community concerns about land use, benefit sharing and environmental impacts along new corridors.2

In 2026, policy priorities identified by energy economists include faster, coordinated transmission planning, clearer community benefit frameworks, and updated market rules that properly reward flexible demand, storage and fast‑ramping resources that support a high‑renewables grid at least cost.2

Reserve Bank research on the employment impacts of clean energy suggests that while job losses in coal power will be concentrated in specific regions, the build‑out of renewables and transmission can create more roles nationally, underscoring the importance of skills and regional planning rather than slowing the phase‑out schedule.5

Industrial decarbonisation and clean‑tech competitiveness

Industry and resources account for a large share of Australia’s emissions and export earnings, including steel, aluminium, LNG, coal, alumina and other energy‑intensive products that face growing decarbonisation pressures from trading partners and global investors.3

The Climate Change Authority’s industry and waste pathways work highlights that deep cuts are technically feasible through electrification, fuel switching to hydrogen and renewables, process changes and carbon capture in some sub‑sectors, but notes that investment cycles, asset lifetimes and global competition make the 2020s a critical window for decision‑making on new plant and refurbishment.3

Analysis by Grattan Institute and others argues that Australia’s strongest comparative advantage lies in “green metals”, using abundant renewable energy and emerging green hydrogen supply to produce low‑emissions iron, alumina and ammonia for export, rather than exporting raw materials and importing embodied emissions from offshore processing hubs.3

The updated National Hydrogen Strategy, released in 2024, sets targets for producing half a million tonnes of green hydrogen annually by 2030 and up to 15 million tonnes by 2050, prioritising applications in iron, alumina and ammonia where hydrogen can be used efficiently at scale and where global demand for low‑emissions commodities is emerging most quickly.3

Economists caution that hydrogen and green metals still face a “green premium” – the current cost gap between zero‑emissions production and conventional methods – which means 2026 policy settings must carefully target support, for instance through time‑limited production incentives, contracts‑for‑difference or risk‑sharing finance that can crowd in private capital without locking in inefficient subsidies.3

Productivity Commission work on the net zero transformation emphasises that clear, predictable carbon price signals through the Safeguard Mechanism and complementary measures can steer investment more efficiently than a patchwork of ad hoc grants, especially for large industrial facilities exposed to international competition.5

Unions and regional leaders argue that industrial decarbonisation plans must be tied to concrete regional industry strategies, including worker redeployment pathways, training programs and local content rules where appropriate, to ensure that clean‑tech competitiveness translates into secure employment rather than short‑term construction booms followed by decline.5

Agriculture, land and the hard‑to‑cut third

Agriculture currently contributes between about 12 and 18 per cent of Australia’s annual greenhouse gas emissions, dominated by methane from cattle and sheep, with the sector’s share projected to rise as electricity and industry emissions fall more quickly.4

ABARES’ 2025 snapshot notes that Australian farms are relatively emissions‑efficient by international standards, with a representative basket of commodities producing significantly lower emissions per unit of output than in the United States and the European Union, yet aggregate agricultural emissions are expected to decline only slowly over the next 15 years.4

Under current projections, agricultural emissions fall modestly from around 86 million tonnes in 2023 to about 84 million tonnes by 2040, but the sector’s share of national emissions could rise from roughly one fifth to more than 30 per cent, making it a growing constraint on net zero unless additional measures are adopted.4

Modelling for the Climate Change Authority and independent analysts suggests that improved herd management, feed supplements that cut enteric methane, more efficient fertiliser use and increased soil carbon sequestration can deliver significant abatement while boosting resilience to drought and heat stress, but require stable policy signals and credible carbon market rules to attract investment at scale.4

One recent analysis finds that if the best performing 10 per cent of Australia’s grazing land achieved soil carbon gains of about one tonne per hectare per year, the resulting carbon drawdown could cover a substantial share of the emissions reduction gap projected for 2030 and 2035, although this potential depends on soil types, rainfall and robust measurement and verification systems.4

Farm groups emphasise that any 2026 reforms to agricultural and land‑sector policies must align incentives between emissions reduction and farm profitability, for example by integrating climate objectives into drought and natural disaster programs, biosecurity frameworks, and regional development funding rather than imposing stand‑alone compliance burdens on producers.4

Households, regions and the macro economy

The central economic question for 2026 is how to manage the distributional impacts of transition so that lower‑income households and carbon‑exposed regions are not left carrying disproportionate costs while the broader economy benefits from cheaper clean energy and new industries.5

Treasury’s renewed climate and industry modelling capacity uses economy‑wide general equilibrium tools to examine how different transition pathways affect GDP, employment, wages and sectoral output, finding that earlier, well‑signalled action tends to be less costly than delayed and abrupt adjustments because it allows capital stock to turn over gradually and labour to reallocate with less disruption.5

Recent modelling on physical climate risks also indicates that failing to curb warming could impose significant macroeconomic costs through reduced labour productivity in heat‑exposed outdoor work, more frequent supply chain disruptions, and higher public spending on disaster recovery and resilience infrastructure, all of which weigh on long‑term growth.5

Reserve Bank research into job displacement in energy‑intensive industries highlights that workers who lose jobs in declining sectors often face long spells of lower earnings or non‑employment without targeted support, supporting calls from economists for active labour market policies, relocation assistance and retraining tied to identified growth sectors such as renewables, transmission, electrification and care work.5

For households, the key 2026 policy levers include targeted energy‑bill relief that does not blunt efficiency incentives, incentives for electrification of homes and vehicles, and minimum standards for rental properties so that lower‑income households can access the savings from efficient appliances and building upgrades rather than being locked into high running costs in poorly performing housing stock.5

Productivity Commission analysis frames the net zero transition as a potential productivity reform, arguing that investments in modern, flexible electricity networks and more efficient buildings and transport can reduce input costs for firms and free up resources for higher‑value activity if policies avoid locking in high‑cost technologies or duplicative subsidies.5

Investment, tax and regulation in a tight decade

Meeting Australia’s net zero commitments while supporting growth will require very large capital flows into clean energy, industrial transformation and resilience, with AEMO estimating that the optimal electricity transition alone involves annualised capital costs in the order of more than one hundred billion dollars nationally by mid‑century when spread across generation, storage and networks.2

Public finance institutions such as the Clean Energy Finance Corporation and the National Reconstruction Fund are designed to play a catalytic role, offering concessional finance, guarantees and co‑investment in projects that are commercially promising but face early‑stage risks, particularly in areas like grid‑scale storage, green hydrogen and critical minerals processing.3

Economists and international bodies such as the OECD stress that coherent tax and regulatory settings are as important as direct spending, pointing to the benefits of phasing out perverse incentives such as fuel tax concessions that encourage emissions, tightening vehicle efficiency standards, and aligning depreciation and tax rules with long‑lived clean infrastructure investments.5

At the same time, business groups emphasise the need for streamlined approvals and consistent environmental assessment processes across jurisdictions, arguing that policy uncertainty, inconsistent land‑use rules and duplication between state and federal agencies can delay projects, push up costs and deter international investors comparing Australia with other destinations for clean‑energy and green‑materials capital.3

Regulatory agencies are increasingly focusing on climate‑related financial disclosure, with moves towards mandatory reporting of climate risks and transition plans aiming to improve market transparency and reduce the likelihood of abrupt repricing of high‑emissions assets that could spill over into the broader financial system.5

The challenge for 2026 is to align these investment, tax and regulatory levers into a coherent transition framework that encourages long‑term, low‑cost capital while maintaining fiscal sustainability and avoiding short‑term cost‑of‑living pressures that could erode public support for climate policy.5

Politics, stakeholder tensions and the path ahead

The politics of Australia’s 2026 climate decisions are shaped by the uneven geography of both emissions and opportunity, with coal and gas regions, industrial belts and farm communities confronting more immediate disruption than inner‑city areas that stand to gain from service‑sector growth and green‑tech headquarters.6

Stakeholder tensions centre on the pace of coal closures, the siting of new transmission and renewable projects, and the extent to which new industries such as green hydrogen or critical minerals processing will genuinely replace jobs and revenue streams in existing export sectors rather than clustering in separate regions or relying on temporary construction workforces.6

Climate scientists point to the latest State of the Climate findings, which show continued warming, more frequent extreme heat and increasing drought risk across large parts of southern and eastern Australia, as evidence that delay increases both physical and economic risks, including to key export industries such as agriculture and tourism.1

Economists, meanwhile, focus on sequencing and policy design, arguing that credible long‑term signals – such as legislated targets supported by detailed sectoral pathways, robust emissions reporting and transparent progress reviews – can anchor expectations and reduce financing costs even when near‑term politics are contested.5

Industry leaders stress that global markets are moving quickly, with major trading partners tightening carbon border measures, renewable targets and clean‑technology support, which means that investors now factor climate policy stability into decisions about where to locate plants, research hubs and supply chains.3

For policymakers, the task in 2026 is less about announcing new headline targets and more about filling in the institutional detail – from grid rules and planning laws to skills strategies and regional transition authorities – that can translate ambition into predictable, bankable projects and credible, measurable emissions reductions.6

Forward‑looking implications for policy and prosperity

The evidence from Australian and international modelling suggests that a well‑managed transition can support sustained economic growth, particularly if governments align climate policy with broader productivity agendas such as lifting skills, improving infrastructure and accelerating digitalisation across sectors.5

In practice, this means that 2026 policies should focus on removing structural bottlenecks – for example by accelerating grid upgrades, streamlining planning, and investing in targeted training programs – rather than seeking to micro‑manage individual technologies or shield every existing asset from market change, which would raise long‑term costs and slow innovation.2

Socially, the durability of climate policy will depend on whether workers and communities see credible, funded plans for new jobs, infrastructure and services in regions exposed to transition, as well as fair access to the benefits of cleaner, more efficient homes and transport in cities and towns across the country.6

Politically, governments face a choice between using 2026 to lock in institutions that can outlast electoral cycles – including independent advice, regular progress reviews and stable market frameworks – or continuing to rely on ad hoc deals that resolve immediate conflicts but leave investors, workers and households uncertain about the direction of travel.6

For the economy, the stakes run beyond emissions tally sheets: the shape of this decade’s policy decisions will influence whether Australia emerges as a competitive producer of clean energy, green materials and sustainable food, or remains primarily a supplier of high‑emissions commodities in a decarbonising world.3

The balance between rapid emissions reduction and sustained growth in 2026 will therefore hinge not only on the ambition of targets, but on the credibility, coordination and fairness of the policies that underpin them, and on whether they can command enough public trust to endure the political cycles ahead.6

References

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18/01/2026

Forests on the Brink: Climate Pushes Australian Trees to Their Limits - Lethal Heating Editor BDA

Key Points
  • Tree death rates are rising across all major Australian forest types, closely tracking a warming, drying climate.1
  • Heat, drought, pests and intensifying fire regimes are combining to push many iconic eucalypt and rainforest ecosystems towards their physiological limits.2
  • Large‑scale canopy loss is undermining carbon storage, biodiversity, cultural values and regional economies from the Top End to the southwest and the Alps.3
  • Indigenous fire management programs in northern savannas show how cultural burning can cut extreme wildfires, support Country and generate carbon income.4
  • Ecologists warn that without rapid adaptation – from assisted regeneration to diversified plantings and tighter land‑clearing controls – some forests may shift to more open, degraded states.5
  • This decade will determine whether Australia’s forests remain net carbon sinks or tip towards becoming sources of emissions and cascading ecological decline.6

In forests from Tasmania’s cloud‑draped slopes to the shimmering savannas of the Top End, trees are dying younger and faster than scientists had expected.1 

The shift is subtle at first – thinning canopies, bare upper branches, a few more dead trunks on the ridge – but long‑term monitoring shows a steady, continent‑wide rise in tree mortality over recent decades.1 

A major study led by Western Sydney University has linked this trend to Australia’s warming, drying climate, with mortality increasing most rapidly in hot, dry regions and dense stands where trees compete hard for water and light.1 

In tropical rainforests, the annual chance of a tree dying has more than doubled since the 1960s, while warm temperate forests have seen mortality rates more than triple over similar periods.1 

Even in cool temperate forests in southern Tasmania, where trees evolved with cold and wet conditions, death rates have climbed significantly since the mid‑20th century.1 

Ecologists describe these changes as an emerging “canopy crisis” with far‑reaching implications for carbon storage, water, wildlife and people who depend on forests.3 

The question now facing researchers, First Nations land stewards and forest managers is how to protect vulnerable ecosystems as climate‑driven stress accelerates and traditional management tools strain under the load.2

Rising mortality across the continent

The new analysis of long‑term plots across Australia, published in the journal Nature Plants, found that the probability of a tree dying each year has risen in every major forest type since the mid‑1900s.1 

The researchers combined decades of measurements from more than 100,000 individually tagged trees with climate records, revealing a clear link between mortality and increasing temperatures as well as shifts in rainfall patterns.1

In tropical rainforests, annual mortality rose from about 0.5 per cent in the 1960s to around 1.3 per cent by 2020, effectively more than doubling the rate at which canopy trees die.1 

In warm temperate forests, mortality increased from roughly 0.2 per cent in the 1940s to 0.7 per cent in the late 2010s, while cool temperate forests saw mortality climb from about 0.4 to 0.7 per cent over a similar period, indicating a broad, multi‑biome trend.1

Distinguished Professor Belinda Medlyn, a plant physiological ecologist who led the study, says the pattern is consistent with rising heat and evaporative demand pushing trees closer to their hydraulic limits, even in forests adapted to Australia’s famously tough climate.1 

“We are seeing increased mortality not just after extreme events, but as a long‑term signal that tracks the warming and drying of the climate,” she explains, warning that the trend undermines assumptions that forests will reliably soak up carbon as emissions climb.1

Independent forest ecologist Professor David Lindenmayer from the Australian National University, who was not involved in the study, calls the findings a “serious warning” about the stability of forest ecosystems under climate change.12 

He notes that accelerated mortality, layered on top of logging, land clearing and altered fire regimes, will have cascading effects on habitat structure, carbon stocks and catchment hydrology in already stressed landscapes.12

Heat, drought and hydraulic failure

While old age, competition and storm damage have always killed trees, researchers say climate‑driven heat and drought are increasingly tipping forests over physiological thresholds they once rarely reached.2 

A series of studies on eucalypt dieback across eastern Australia has traced canopy loss to what plant physiologists call “hydraulic failure”, when trees can no longer maintain water columns from roots to leaves as soils dry and heat intensifies.2

During the 2019 drought, many regions of eastern Australia recorded their lowest rainfall and highest temperatures on record, and widespread eucalypt canopies browned or shed leaves in a desperate effort to conserve water.2 

Researchers at Western Sydney University’s Hawkesbury Institute for the Environment found a close relationship between tree size, leaf loss and internal water stress, with prolonged drought creating embolisms – tiny air bubbles – that break the continuous columns of water inside the xylem, pushing trees closer to lethal thresholds.2

Associate Professor Brendan Choat, a tree physiologist involved in the work, describes eucalypt dieback as the visible tip of a deeper hydraulic crisis fuelled by drought, heatwaves, previous fire damage and insect attack acting together.2 

“These forests evolved with variability, but the combination of hotter droughts and legacy stresses means trees are operating much closer to their safety margins, so relatively small additional shocks can trigger widespread canopy collapse,” he says, warning that larger, older trees are often most vulnerable because they need more water to sustain tall crowns.2

Different regions, different pressures

In the Top End and across northern savannas, climate change is stacking on top of changes in fire regimes to alter the balance between trees and grasses in ways that could reduce tree cover and carbon storage over time.4 

Warmer temperatures and shifts in rainfall interact with late dry‑season fires, which burn hotter and more extensively than traditional patchy cool burns, killing young trees and hollowing old ones that once survived lower‑intensity fire.4

In the southwest of Western Australia, long‑term drying, heatwaves and emerging pests are placing jarrah and karri forests under increasing strain, contributing to episodes of canopy decline and dieback that threaten biodiversity and water supplies for Perth and regional towns.7 

Forest managers in the region report more frequent tree stress during summer, with reduced streamflows and soil moisture shrinking the buffer that once carried trees through dry spells, especially in regrowth stands where density is high.7

Alpine and sub‑alpine forests in south‑eastern Australia face a different but equally worrying mix of threats, including rising temperatures, reduced snow cover, repeated fires and outbreaks of pests such as the native mountain pine beetle and exotic pathogens.8 

Studies on snow gum and alpine ash show that more frequent fires are preventing stands from reaching maturity, while warming favours shrubs and grasses that alter fuel loads and water yield, increasing the risk of a shift from tall forest to more open, flammable vegetation types.8

Along the east coast, from Queensland’s rainforests through New South Wales tablelands to Victorian foothills, a patchwork of canopy dieback syndromes has emerged, including “bell miner associated dieback”, “koala dieback” and high‑altitude eucalypt decline, often involving interactions between drought, nutrient changes, insects and disease.9 

A review for the NSW Natural Resources Commission concluded that crown dieback is now widespread across southern Australia and threatens the ecosystem services that eucalypt forests provide in rural and mixed‑use landscapes.9

Ecological, cultural and economic fallout

When canopies thin and large trees die, the impacts ripple through forest food webs, microclimates and water cycles, often in ways that are hard to reverse within human timescales.3 

Large old trees provide hollows for gliders, parrots, bats and possums, and their loss can trigger sharp declines in hollow‑dependent species as well as shifts in understorey vegetation that favour more generalist and invasive plants.3

Forests currently absorb roughly one third of human carbon dioxide emissions globally, but rising mortality and more intense fires threaten to weaken or even reverse this sink, turning some forests into net sources of greenhouse gases.6 

Recent research suggests that parts of Australia’s tropical forests may already be close to a tipping point where tree deaths and fires outpace growth, with implications for national emissions budgets and the credibility of land‑based offsets.6

For First Nations communities, canopy loss can sever cultural relationships with specific species and places, eroding songlines, bush food resources and the ability to practise cultural burning in the ways that ancestors did.10 

Indigenous land stewards across northern and south‑eastern Australia describe the death of long‑lived trees as both ecological harm and cultural grief, especially where species such as river red gums, box eucalypts or bunya pines are central to ceremony and identity.10

Economically, accelerating tree mortality threatens industries from timber and tourism to agriculture that depends on forested catchments for reliable water and shade.3 

Forest‑based tourism in regions like Tasmania’s tall eucalypt forests and Queensland’s rainforests relies on intact canopies and iconic big trees, while agriculture in many upland catchments depends on forest cover to regulate flows, reduce erosion and maintain cool microclimates along creeks and gullies.3

Lessons from Indigenous fire management

One of the most widely cited successes in climate‑era forest management comes from Indigenous‑led savanna burning programs in northern Australia, which use early dry‑season burns to reduce the intensity and extent of destructive late‑season wildfires.4 

By creating fine‑grained mosaics of burnt and unburnt country, these programs lower fuel loads, protect older trees and fire‑sensitive habitats, and cut greenhouse gas emissions compared with business‑as‑usual fire regimes dominated by large late‑season burns.4

Research on Indigenous fire management and carbon markets has found that savanna burning projects across northern Australia generate millions of dollars in carbon credit income each year, alongside health, employment and cultural benefits for participating communities.4 

An evaluation of the Savanna Fire Management Program reported that carbon revenue helps fund ranger jobs, vehicles and equipment, allowing Traditional Owners to spend more time on Country and strengthen local governance, language and law through active fire stewardship.11

Warddeken Land Management, the North Australian Indigenous Land and Sea Management Alliance and other groups have shown that embedding Indigenous knowledge in regional fire strategies can reduce greenhouse emissions, restore patchiness and protect fire‑sensitive rainforest pockets and stone country woodlands that were being scorched by late‑season wildfires.20 

These experiences are now informing efforts to adapt cultural burning and Indigenous land management principles to southern and temperate forests, although ecologists caution that different fuel types, land tenures and social histories mean approaches cannot simply be transplanted without careful co‑design.4

Assisted regeneration, diversification and policy reform

As climate stress rises, scientists are testing forms of “assisted regeneration” and “assisted migration” – practices that use human intervention to help forests recover or transition towards compositions more likely to cope with future conditions.5 

These include planting provenances or closely related species from warmer, drier regions, thinning dense regrowth to reduce competition for water, and actively re‑establishing key species after severe fires where natural regeneration is failing.5

In some harvested or fire‑affected eucalypt forests, managers are experimenting with mixed‑species plantings and structural diversity to spread risk, rather than recreating single‑age stands that may be more vulnerable to synchronous drought or pest outbreaks.5 

A growing body of research suggests that forests with higher species and age diversity can be more resilient to climate extremes, although such interventions raise complex questions about which future ecosystems society is willing to accept and how to weigh carbon, biodiversity and cultural values.5

Policy reforms are also in play, as governments grapple with the gap between climate targets on paper and the realities of forests under stress.3 

Reviews of native forest logging in several states, and debates over the integrity of land‑sector offsets, have sharpened scrutiny of whether current rules adequately protect large old trees, maintain habitat structure and account for heightened fire and mortality risks in carbon accounting frameworks.3

For many First Nations land councils, the priority is ensuring that adaptation strategies respect Indigenous rights and decision‑making, and that investments in restoration or carbon projects flow to communities with deep relationships to Country.10 

Indigenous leaders argue that meaningful co‑governance of forests, beyond project‑by‑project partnerships, will be essential if adaptation is to strengthen rather than further erode cultural authority on land and waters already transformed by colonisation and climate change.10

Managing fire risk in a hotter world

The 2019‑20 Black Summer fires highlighted how extreme heat, drought and fuel loads can combine to overwhelm even well‑resourced fire services, scorching more than 24 million hectares and killing or displacing billions of animals.13 

In tall eucalypt forests, the fires killed many large trees outright and set in train a wave of delayed mortality as drought‑stressed survivors succumbed to pests, disease or secondary stresses in the years that followed, prompting calls for a re‑assessment of fuel management and landscape planning under climate change.13

Fire scientists and Traditional Owners emphasise that fuel reduction burning alone cannot offset the effects of hotter, drier summers and more frequent fire weather extremes, particularly when burns are carried out at scales and intensities that damage soil, understorey structure and cultural values.14 

Instead, they advocate a combination of culturally informed mosaic burning, strategic fuel breaks near settlements, careful treatment of flammable plantations and suburban interfaces, and strong emissions cuts to reduce the likelihood of Black Summer‑scale fire seasons becoming the norm.14

In alpine and montane forests, reducing repeated high‑severity fires will be crucial to preventing long‑term loss of obligate seeder species such as alpine ash, which can be wiped out if stands are burned again before young trees can reach reproductive age.8 

Managers are exploring a mix of protection zones, rapid response to ignitions in sensitive areas and post‑fire planting to maintain these forests, though some scientists warn that even with active intervention, parts of the high country may transition to shrublands or grasslands under continued warming.8

This decade’s choices

Scientists are clear that there are hard limits to how much adaptation can achieve if global emissions continue on a high trajectory and Australia keeps warming beyond the thresholds forests evolved with.6 

The long‑term monitoring of tree mortality suggests that without rapid, deep cuts to greenhouse gas emissions, more forests will cross tipping points where rising deaths, more frequent fires and altered species composition lock in new, more open and less carbon‑dense states.6

Medlyn and colleagues argue that maintaining forests as net carbon sinks will require stabilising global temperatures as close to 1.5 degrees Celsius above pre‑industrial levels as possible, combined with regional strategies to reduce non‑climate stresses such as logging, land clearing and poorly planned development in fire‑prone areas.1 

Lindenmayer and other ecologists add that protecting large intact forest areas, particularly those that still contain high densities of big old trees, is a cost‑effective way to safeguard carbon, biodiversity and water yields against mounting climate risks.12

For Indigenous land stewards, the priority this decade is to scale up programs that support communities to live on and care for Country, combining ancestral knowledge and modern tools in fire management, weed control and restoration.4 

They stress that whether forests retain their ecological and cultural functions under climate change will depend as much on whose knowledge is valued and resourced as on which technical interventions are chosen.10

Across research groups, agencies and communities, there is a shared recognition that the coming years are pivotal for Australia’s forests, not only because climate impacts are accelerating, but because trees dying today will shape canopy structure, species composition and carbon balance for decades to come.6 

The decisions taken this decade – on emissions, land use, cultural governance and investment in adaptation – will determine whether the next generation inherits forests that can still shade, shelter and sustain life, or landscapes where the ghosts of lost canopies are written into bare ridgelines and empty hollows.6

References

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