Cookies help us run our site more efficiently.

By clicking “Accept”, you agree to the storing of cookies on your device to enhance site navigation, analyze site usage, and assist in our marketing efforts. View our Privacy Policy for more information or to customize your cookie preferences.

Saving ginseng means balancing conservation and culture

News Feed
Thursday, October 3, 2024

This coverage is made possible through a partnership between BPR and Grist, a nonprofit environmental media organization. Each fall, hopeful foragers throughout the Appalachian mountains don heavy work pants and sturdy boots to clamber into dark, steep, moisture-laden coves in hopes of finding Old Man Sang. The name is a colloquialism for ginseng, a perennial with a gnarled and bulbous root prized for its medicinal qualities. The plant, a staple of traditional medicine and flavorful addition to many recipes, can reach 80 years of age but grows so slowly it takes five to reach maturity. Demand is so great that it has largely been extirpated in Asia, driving prices for American varieties to $1,000 a pound. That’s got conservationists concerned that overzealous diggers could be pinching them out of existence as they harvest plants too early and too often. “When it got really valuable, it was just too many people going over and over to the same ground,” said North Carolina ethnobotanist David Cozzo. “There never was a chance for it to recover.”  Although found in much of the eastern United States, ginseng is most prevalent in Appalachia and the Ozarks. The risk of excessive foraging is particularly great in Kentucky, West Virginia, North Carolina, and Tennessee, something one expert on the subject attributes to the high unemployment and widespread poverty found there. In response, the Forest Service has taken the step of limiting harvesting on public lands. Although Nantahala and Pisgah national forests have been closed indefinitely in the wake of Hurricane Helene, a federal ban on harvesting the root there will remain in place for at least another year. Getting caught digging up the plant, found primarily in deciduous hardwood forests, can result in a fine of $5,000 and six months in a federal prison.  The Forest Service has said the prohibition, which began in 2021, could last up to a decade. Taking such a step requires balancing the preservation of a valuable resource and respecting a practice intertwined with the region’s history. “Sanging” is for many people a way of life, one that has supplemented rural incomes for generations, particularly in areas dependent on the volatile coal industry. The Appalachian relationship with east Asian markets extends over 200 years. The Cherokee, who used the root medicinally, took advantage of the globalizing world that colonization thrust them into and started shipping ginseng root to China by the middle of the 1700s. Revenue from such deals helped the tribe buy back a small portion of its ancestral lands in the 1870s, establishing the trust on which the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians now lives, said Cozzo, who is also the director emeritus of the Traditional Cherokee Artisan Resources Program. Formerly enslaved people, unmarried women, and even entire towns cultivated ginseng in the forests of Appalachia throughout the 19th and and early 20th centuries, harvesting the roots alongside things like cohosh and mayapple and establishing a thriving industry in places known for timbering and mining. Even now, Cozzo recalls talking to high-mountain diggers who used their autumn haul to pay for their kids’ school clothes and other expenses. Historians have attempted to rectify the stereotype of the ignorant, backward harvester, and have attributed some responsibility for ginseng’s decline to poaching and to habitat destruction driven by the coal and timber industries. In some communities, mineworkers and their families supplemented their incomes foraging for ginseng and other forest products, particularly as work-related disabilities like black-lung disease took hold. “These guys who got black lung from the mines, they might go out in the morning when it was still cool and they could breathe,” Cozzo said. A 2020 Smithsonian oral history project features people from throughout the region describing foraging and selling what they’d picked or pulled alongside furs and skins to support themselves during unemployment or retirement and to supplement the wages of full-time work. One participant, Carol Judy, a digger and environmental activist who sanged in the mountains around the coal community of Eagan, Tennessee until she died in 2017, is described as a believer in the power of agroforestry to provide for communities struggling to meet their needs, particularly in light of coal’s decline. A friend recalled Carol Judy’s hope of fostering a foraging culture that looks “seven generations forward and seven generations back.”  John-Paul Schmidt, a University of Georgia ecologist who has studied the factors contributing to overharvesting on public lands, noted that stress on the plant’s numbers often correlates with high unemployment and low incomes, particularly in southern Appalachia. That, he said, suggests harvesters compelled by need will find ways around a ban. A wiser policy, he said, would be to explore funding education and pathways to sustainable forest farming, something many harvesters already practice. “There’s a real missed opportunity to really promote active wild cultivation of these plants,” he said. Read Next As one Southern community mourns a paper mill’s closure, another rejoices Katie Myers Many old-time diggers, particularly Indigenous people, have patches they tend. Cozzo’s oral histories tell of people returning to the same patch every five to seven years, giving it plenty of time to recover. Careful harvesters save the seeds and plant them an inch deep, making it more likely that they’ll sprout. “Old-timers knew this, and they managed the woods, and they managed the forest,” Cozzo said.  Greater education around sustainable harvesting is needed, particularly as diggers are less likely to have a long-term relationship to the land and more likely to be driven by the value of the root. “All it takes is one generation to skip knowing how to do things properly,” said Cozzo. The hope behind the ban, said Forest Service botanist Gary Kauffman, is to give these fragile plants time to flourish, particularly older specimens that are key to the root’s survival. “It’s the older individuals that produce more seed and actually regenerate the plant,” Kauffman said. The Forest Service is monitoring more than 100 ginseng plots across Nantahala and Pisgah national forests. It also is working with a seed nursery at the North Carolina State Extension to increase the number of seedbeds in the biodiverse, nutrient-rich soils in which ginseng thrives. Sustainable harvesters know to seek plants at least five and ideally over 10 years old with clear signs of maturity: red berries, stem scars, and three to five leaflets. Healthy ginseng communities consist of about 50 to 100 plants, Kauffman said, but many have closer to 25 — a good basis for growth, but not enough to allow harvesting. That’s got the Forest Service thinking that its conservation efforts could last at least a few years, and possibly longer. That may frustrate diggers and herbalists, he said, but it’s necessary to protect a historically important plant.. “It’s very important to look at that and try to preserve some of that culture,” Kauffman said. “To think of how we can preserve it in the future, so our kids and grandkids can also go out and see ginseng, and maybe in the future, harvest some ginseng.” This story was originally published by Grist with the headline Saving ginseng means balancing conservation and culture on Oct 3, 2024.

As Appalachian ginseng turns from rural tradition to global commodity, the Forest Service is trying to keep foragers at bay.

This coverage is made possible through a partnership between BPR and Grist, a nonprofit environmental media organization.

Each fall, hopeful foragers throughout the Appalachian mountains don heavy work pants and sturdy boots to clamber into dark, steep, moisture-laden coves in hopes of finding Old Man Sang.

The name is a colloquialism for ginseng, a perennial with a gnarled and bulbous root prized for its medicinal qualities. The plant, a staple of traditional medicine and flavorful addition to many recipes, can reach 80 years of age but grows so slowly it takes five to reach maturity. Demand is so great that it has largely been extirpated in Asia, driving prices for American varieties to $1,000 a pound. That’s got conservationists concerned that overzealous diggers could be pinching them out of existence as they harvest plants too early and too often.

“When it got really valuable, it was just too many people going over and over to the same ground,” said North Carolina ethnobotanist David Cozzo. “There never was a chance for it to recover.” 

Although found in much of the eastern United States, ginseng is most prevalent in Appalachia and the Ozarks. The risk of excessive foraging is particularly great in Kentucky, West Virginia, North Carolina, and Tennessee, something one expert on the subject attributes to the high unemployment and widespread poverty found there. In response, the Forest Service has taken the step of limiting harvesting on public lands. Although Nantahala and Pisgah national forests have been closed indefinitely in the wake of Hurricane Helene, a federal ban on harvesting the root there will remain in place for at least another year. Getting caught digging up the plant, found primarily in deciduous hardwood forests, can result in a fine of $5,000 and six months in a federal prison. 

The Forest Service has said the prohibition, which began in 2021, could last up to a decade. Taking such a step requires balancing the preservation of a valuable resource and respecting a practice intertwined with the region’s history. “Sanging” is for many people a way of life, one that has supplemented rural incomes for generations, particularly in areas dependent on the volatile coal industry.

The Appalachian relationship with east Asian markets extends over 200 years. The Cherokee, who used the root medicinally, took advantage of the globalizing world that colonization thrust them into and started shipping ginseng root to China by the middle of the 1700s. Revenue from such deals helped the tribe buy back a small portion of its ancestral lands in the 1870s, establishing the trust on which the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians now lives, said Cozzo, who is also the director emeritus of the Traditional Cherokee Artisan Resources Program.

Formerly enslaved people, unmarried women, and even entire towns cultivated ginseng in the forests of Appalachia throughout the 19th and and early 20th centuries, harvesting the roots alongside things like cohosh and mayapple and establishing a thriving industry in places known for timbering and mining. Even now, Cozzo recalls talking to high-mountain diggers who used their autumn haul to pay for their kids’ school clothes and other expenses. Historians have attempted to rectify the stereotype of the ignorant, backward harvester, and have attributed some responsibility for ginseng’s decline to poaching and to habitat destruction driven by the coal and timber industries.

In some communities, mineworkers and their families supplemented their incomes foraging for ginseng and other forest products, particularly as work-related disabilities like black-lung disease took hold. “These guys who got black lung from the mines, they might go out in the morning when it was still cool and they could breathe,” Cozzo said.

A 2020 Smithsonian oral history project features people from throughout the region describing foraging and selling what they’d picked or pulled alongside furs and skins to support themselves during unemployment or retirement and to supplement the wages of full-time work. One participant, Carol Judy, a digger and environmental activist who sanged in the mountains around the coal community of Eagan, Tennessee until she died in 2017, is described as a believer in the power of agroforestry to provide for communities struggling to meet their needs, particularly in light of coal’s decline. A friend recalled Carol Judy’s hope of fostering a foraging culture that looks “seven generations forward and seven generations back.” 

John-Paul Schmidt, a University of Georgia ecologist who has studied the factors contributing to overharvesting on public lands, noted that stress on the plant’s numbers often correlates with high unemployment and low incomes, particularly in southern Appalachia. That, he said, suggests harvesters compelled by need will find ways around a ban. A wiser policy, he said, would be to explore funding education and pathways to sustainable forest farming, something many harvesters already practice. “There’s a real missed opportunity to really promote active wild cultivation of these plants,” he said.

Many old-time diggers, particularly Indigenous people, have patches they tend. Cozzo’s oral histories tell of people returning to the same patch every five to seven years, giving it plenty of time to recover. Careful harvesters save the seeds and plant them an inch deep, making it more likely that they’ll sprout. “Old-timers knew this, and they managed the woods, and they managed the forest,” Cozzo said. 

Greater education around sustainable harvesting is needed, particularly as diggers are less likely to have a long-term relationship to the land and more likely to be driven by the value of the root. “All it takes is one generation to skip knowing how to do things properly,” said Cozzo.

The hope behind the ban, said Forest Service botanist Gary Kauffman, is to give these fragile plants time to flourish, particularly older specimens that are key to the root’s survival. “It’s the older individuals that produce more seed and actually regenerate the plant,” Kauffman said. The Forest Service is monitoring more than 100 ginseng plots across Nantahala and Pisgah national forests. It also is working with a seed nursery at the North Carolina State Extension to increase the number of seedbeds in the biodiverse, nutrient-rich soils in which ginseng thrives.

Sustainable harvesters know to seek plants at least five and ideally over 10 years old with clear signs of maturity: red berries, stem scars, and three to five leaflets. Healthy ginseng communities consist of about 50 to 100 plants, Kauffman said, but many have closer to 25 — a good basis for growth, but not enough to allow harvesting. That’s got the Forest Service thinking that its conservation efforts could last at least a few years, and possibly longer. That may frustrate diggers and herbalists, he said, but it’s necessary to protect a historically important plant..

“It’s very important to look at that and try to preserve some of that culture,” Kauffman said. “To think of how we can preserve it in the future, so our kids and grandkids can also go out and see ginseng, and maybe in the future, harvest some ginseng.”

This story was originally published by Grist with the headline Saving ginseng means balancing conservation and culture on Oct 3, 2024.

Read the full story here.
Photos courtesy of

Biden administration declines to remove grizzly bears from endangered list

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS) will keep endangered species protections for grizzly bears in place in most of the western U.S., the agency announced Wednesday, rebuffing states that petitioned for their removal. In its announcement, USFWS declined petitions from both Wyoming and Montana but proposed to allow private landowners to kill bears to...

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS) will keep endangered species protections for grizzly bears in place in most of the western U.S., the agency announced Wednesday, rebuffing states that petitioned for their removal. In its announcement, USFWS declined petitions from both Wyoming and Montana but proposed to allow private landowners to kill bears to protect livestock, and without a permit if livestock are in imminent danger. However, it left protections in place for much of the population in Idaho, Montana, Washington state and Wyoming. “This reclassification will facilitate recovery of grizzly bears and provide a stronger foundation for eventual delisting,” USFWS Director Martha Williams said in a statement. “And the proposed changes to our … rule will provide management agencies and landowners more tools and flexibility to deal with human/bear conflicts, an essential part of grizzly bear recovery.” Advocates of delisting the bears have pointed to their threat to livestock and steadily rebounding populations, including recent expansions into western Washington. Grizzlies currently number about 2,000 in the 48 contiguous states, up from fewer than 1,000 in the 1970s but only a fraction of what was once 50,000. The George W. Bush and first Trump administrations attempted to delist the species but were blocked in court. House Natural Resources Committee Chair Bruce Westerman blasted the announcement in a statement Wednesday. "The only reasonable announcement by the USFWS today would have been a total delisting of the grizzly bear in these ecosystems. USFWS is blatantly ignoring science in their decision by hiding behind bureaucratic red tape,” Westerman said. “Their decision endangers communities, especially farmers and ranchers, who live under the threat of grizzly bear attacks.” Conservation groups, however, praised the decision, with Andrea Zaccardi, carnivore conservation program legal director at the Center for Biological Diversity, saying it will give grizzlies “a real chance at long-term recovery, instead of being gunned down and mounted on trophy walls.” The decision is one of several wildlife and environmental protections announced in the waning days of the Biden administration, with the second Trump administration likely to take aim at much of Biden's environmental policies. Earlier this week, the White House announced restrictions on offshore drilling and two new national monuments in California.

A Tiny, 'Endangered' Fish Delayed a Dam's Construction in the 1970s. Now, Scientists Say the Snail Darter Isn't So Rare After All

A lawsuit to protect the snail darter from the Tellico Dam in Tennessee offered the first real test of the 1973 Endangered Species Act. But a new study disputes the fish's status as a distinct species

Though small, the snail darter has played an outsize role in American law, conservation and biology. U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Headquarters via Flickr Senator Howard Baker of Tennessee described an “awful beast” in 1979. That beast—which he also called “the bane of my existence, the nemesis of my golden years, the bold perverter of the Endangered Species Act”—was none other than the snail darter, a fish no more than 3.5 inches in length. Still, the tiny creature had plagued the politics of Tennessee throughout the decade. Since its discovery in the 1970s and protection under the Endangered Species Act, the snail darter has cast a long shadow over American law, conservation and biology. Against Baker’s wishes, a Supreme Court ruling about the endangered status of the little fish upended progress on a controversial dam in Tennessee for years. But now, a new study published last week in Current Biology suggests the snail darter isn’t a genetically distinct species at all—and that it was therefore never endangered in the first place. “There is, technically, no snail darter,” Thomas Near, an ichthyologist at Yale University and a senior author of the study, tells Jason Nark of the New York Times. Instead, Near and his co-authors argue, the tiny fish known as Percina tanasi that embodied a David and Goliath battle against the Tellico Dam is an eastern population of the stargazing darter—not a distinct or endangered species. The Tellico Dam in Tennessee, where the fish known as the snail darter held up construction for several years. U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Headquarters via Flickr The controversy began in 1967, when the Tennessee Valley Authority initiated construction on a dam on the Little Tennessee River, some 20 miles southwest of Knoxville. Environmentalists, local farmers and the Cherokee, whose land and ancestral sites were to be flooded, opposed the project, per the New York Times. They sought a way to halt the dam, and, in 1973, a zoologist at the University of Tennessee named David Etnier found that solution. Etnier was snorkeling with a group of students in Coytee Spring, not far from the dam site, when he discovered a previously unseen fish darting across the riverbed. He called it the snail darter, because of its feeding habits, and it received endangered species protection in 1975. “Here’s a little fish that might save your farm,” Etnier reportedly told a local, according to The Snail Darter and the Dam by Zygmunt Plater. Plater, an environmental lawyer, represented the snail darter in front of the Supreme Court after its endangered status went challenged by the TVA. He was initially victorious in protecting the fish: In 1978, the Supreme Court ruled that “the Endangered Species Act prohibits impoundment of the Little Tennessee River by the Tellico Dam” because of the presence of the endangered snail darters. The ruling in Tennessee Valley Authority v. Hill “gave teeth” to the new Endangered Species Act and “helped to shape environmental law for decades to come,” according to a statement from Yale. But lawmakers like Baker were still eager to see the dam completed and derided the decision as environmental overreach, seeing little reason to delay a major project for a seemingly minor fish. Representative John Duncan Sr., a fellow Tennessee Republican, called the snail darter a “worthless, unsightly, minute, inedible minnow,” according to the New York Times. The anti-fish brigade ultimately triumphed in 1979, however, by adding a rider that exempted the Tellico Dam from the Endangered Species Act to a spending bill. Jimmy Carter signed the whole bill into law, and the dam opened just a few months later. In the meantime, conservationists “scrambled to save the small fish by moving it to other waterways,” as David Kindy wrote for Smithsonian magazine in 2021. Their efforts resulted in a resurgence of the snail darter population that led to its removal from the endangered species list in 2022. U.S. Interior Secretary Deb Haaland called its recovery “a remarkable conservation milestone that tells a story about how controversy and polarization can evolve into cooperation and a big conservation success,” according to the Associated Press. But Near’s new study casts this entire history into doubt. A historical range map for the snail darter (Percina tanasi) in the Tennessee River watershed is shown in red, and the stargazing darter's (Percina uranidea) historical range is shown in blue. Ghezelayagh et al., Current Biology, 2024. Photographs courtesy of Uland Thomas and Jon Michael Mollish Jeffrey Simmons, a co-author of the study and former biologist with the TVA, was wading through the creeks near the Mississippi-Alabama border in 2015, when he thought he saw a snail darter far from where it was known to dwell. This apparent discovery prompted a team of scientists led by Ava Ghezelayagh, then an ecologist at Yale, to undertake anatomical and genetic research of the fish. “Our approach combines analyses of the physical characteristics and the genetics, which scientists weren’t doing in the 1970s,” Near says in the statement. “Despite its legacy, the snail darter is not a distinct species,” the authors of the study conclude. But the disputed fish has not left its controversy behind quite yet. Plater, the lawyer who defended the fish in court, takes issue with the study, calling the researchers “lumpers” instead of “splitters,” according to the New York Times. That means they tend toward reducing species with their research rather than expanding them. “Whether he intends it or not, lumping is a great way to cut back on the Endangered Species Act,” Plater says of Near to the New York Times. Near, for his part, argues that, “while we’re losing the snail darter as a biological conservation icon, our findings demonstrate the capability of genomics, in addition to studying an organism’s observable features, to accurately delimit species,” he says in the statement. And, in other genetic and anatomical research, his teams have uncovered new species. “We’re discovering species that are truly imperiled, which helps us better understand where to devote resources to protect biodiversity,” he adds. “This is still a success story,” Simmons says to the New York Times. “Its listing under the Endangered Species Act worked, regardless of what you call this fish.” Get the latest stories in your inbox every weekday.

10m trees to be planted in US to replace ones destroyed by hurricanes

Arbor Day Foundation non-profit to plant trees in six of the worst-hit states over the next four yearsSome costs of the recently ended supercharged 2024 Atlantic hurricane season, those that can be quantified at least, are astounding.A succession of storms that ravaged large areas of the US killed at least 375 people, the most in the mainland US since Hurricane Katrina in 2005. Some estimates pegged damage and economic loss at $500bn. Continue reading...

Some costs of the recently ended supercharged 2024 Atlantic hurricane season, those that can be quantified at least, are astounding.A succession of storms that ravaged large areas of the US killed at least 375 people, the most in the mainland US since Hurricane Katrina in 2005. Some estimates pegged damage and economic loss at $500bn.Another eye-catching figure is 10m, which is the number of trees the non-profit Arbor Day Foundation (ADF) is planning to plant in six of the worst-hit states over the next four years to replace those destroyed by the major hurricanes Beryl, Debby, Helene and Milton, and other cyclones, in the season that concluded on 30 November.The group says it’s impossible to know exactly how many trees were lost, but the restoration program that will be executed in Tennessee, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia and Florida, with assistance from state and local governments, corporate sponsors, community groups and individual volunteers, will be the most ambitious undertaking of its more than 50-year existence.ADF has worked previously in other affected areas, most recently with partners along Florida’s Gulf coast, Panhandle and in Miami after Hurricanes Irma and Michael in 2017 and 2018 respectively, but nothing on this scale.“The emotion that you see from people when they get to get a tree, to take home to plant, to be an active part of recovery, bringing life and hope and healing back to their neighborhoods and to their community is inspiring,” said Dan Lambe, ADF’s chief executive.“What’s so cool about it is it’s every different part of the community you could imagine, every demographic, every age category. People are just so excited to be contributing to the recovery.“And beyond the emotional side of it, in these cities, these communities and these forests, trees are not a nice-to-have, they are a must-have.“From extreme heat, from biodiversity challenges, and ecosystem challenges to the just broader resilience and readiness for the next storm, trees just do so much for us. So it’s both an emotional and an environmental recovery, and we’re proud to get to be a part.”One of the largest areas of focus will be Florida’s heavily populated Tampa Bay region. Although it escaped direct hits from any of the state’s record-tying three landfalling major hurricanes this year, Debby, Helene and Milton, the storms’ giant wind fields still caused severe impacts.“I was born and raised here, and I’ve never before seen such devastation, so many trees down,” said Debra Evenson, executive director of the Keep Tampa Bay Beautiful environmental group that has partnered with ADF to identify the greatest areas of need and set up a replanting schedule.“They covered the streets. Just on our property, at our office, we probably had five trees down. The devastation was everywhere. It wasn’t just one specific area, it hit all of Tampa Bay, just thousands and thousands of trees.”Evenson’s group can count on more than 25,000 volunteers to assist with the project, which she expects to begin before the end of this year with community giveaways, and ramp up after new year with planting days. Schools, lower-income neighborhoods and community spaces will receive early attention.“It’s like, OK, what type of trees do we want to get? We can plant trees in parks and rights of way, but right now it’s like we really want to give trees to the community to help with the canopy,” she said.“It’s in the community, in people’s homes, where so many were lost. They’re crepe myrtles, live oak and magnolia trees … you don’t really understand everything the trees provide until they’re gone. It’s not just air quality, it’s reducing stormwater runoff, it’s providing shade that regulates temperature. We’re in Florida, it’s 100F sometimes, and it’s like ‘why is my electric bill so high?’skip past newsletter promotionafter newsletter promotion“It’s because you’re missing your shade trees now. So these trees will be substantial to the community and help with not just all of that, but the conservation and the natural beauty.”Evenson said bringing fruit trees back to deprived areas would also be a priority.“We go into areas that are food deserts, where they don’t have the funds to replant these types of big trees that grow and give shade and bear fruit. To them, this is life-changing,” she said.Lambe said Asheville, the historic North Carolina city flooded and torn apart by Hurricane Helene, was another area of great need.“We’ve already been distributing trees with community leaders there, to neighborhoods that are ready to replant,” he said.“It was shocking that a community like Asheville was being impacted by a hurricane, and they don’t have a lot of experience with recovery. We’ve been able to take lessons from elsewhere and remind partners that first of all you take an inventory, do an assessment, don’t rush the restoration.“Do it when it’s right, and know that the Arbor Day Foundation is going to be there to help with those recovery efforts as a long-term commitment, because we want to give confidence to those communities that we’re ready to help.”

English wildlife ‘could be disappearing in the dark’ due to lack of scrutiny

Conservationists issue warning as figures show three-quarters of SSSI sites have had no recent assessments Conservationists have said wildlife could be “disappearing in the dark” after figures showed that three-quarters of England’s most precious habitats, wildlife and natural features have had no recent assessment of their condition.The warning follows the publication of figures covering assessments of protected natural sites known as sites of special scientific interest (SSSIs) in the last five years. SSSIs are legally protected because they contain special features such as threatened habitats or rare species, and together they cover more than 1.1m hectares (2.7m acres), about 8% of England’s land area. Continue reading...

Conservationists have said wildlife could be “disappearing in the dark” after figures showed that three-quarters of England’s most precious habitats, wildlife and natural features have had no recent assessment of their condition.The warning follows the publication of figures covering assessments of protected natural sites known as sites of special scientific interest (SSSIs) in the last five years. SSSIs are legally protected because they contain special features such as threatened habitats or rare species, and together they cover more than 1.1m hectares (2.7m acres), about 8% of England’s land area.Nearly two-fifths of the habitats and other features for which SSSIs are protected were in an unfavourable condition, according to figures from the conservation agency Natural England.They also show that only 3,384 – or about 25% – of features had been assessed for their condition since the start of 2019 up to last month. It leaves 10,148, or 75%, without an up-to-date assessment of how they are faring.The figures, revealed after a request from PA Media, were described by conservationists as a reminder of the under-resourced state of environmental watchdogs.SSSIs are integral to Britain’s international commitment to protect 30% of its land and seas for nature by 2030, a pledge made by Boris Johnson as prime minister and sometimes called the 30x30 commitment.Richard Benwell, the chief executive of Wildlife and Countryside Link, said: “The protected site network is critical natural infrastructure supporting wildlife, health and wellbeing, and a resilient economy. But with over three-quarters of sites not inspected in the last five years, regulators will have no idea whether they are in good condition and the government won’t know where it should be targeting its efforts in order to reach critical 2030 targets.“Wildlife could be disappearing in the dark while ecosystems break down. It’s like shutting the door on a new power plant and not visiting for a decade.”More than 5,000 SSSI features, about 39% of the total, were in an unfavourable state in their last assessment, which could have been well before 2019. Of those, 10% were declining and 22% recovering.About 40% of features were in a favourable condition, more than a fifth were classed as “not recorded” due to incomplete data, and less than 0.5% had been destroyed.A spokesperson for the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs said: “Protected sites are at the heart of our vision for making space for rare habitats and threatened species to thrive as well as green spaces for us all to enjoy. It’s why this government has wasted no time in establishing a rapid review of our plan to deliver on our legally binding targets for the environment, including measures to improve the condition of protected sites. We will deliver a new statutory plan that will help restore our natural environment.”skip past newsletter promotionThe planet's most important stories. Get all the week's environment news - the good, the bad and the essentialPrivacy Notice: Newsletters may contain info about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. For more information see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.after newsletter promotionNatural England is developing a long-term programme to determine when SSSIs need to be assessed, as well as improving monitoring with remote sensing technology and greater use of data.The amount of land that is “effectively protected” for nature in England has declined to just 2.93%, despite government promises to conserve 30% of it by 2030, according to research published in October.The land figure was found to have been falling owing to declines in quality of SSSIs, which are changing because of the climate crisis, water pollution and overgrazing.

Suggested Viewing

Join us to forge
a sustainable future

Our team is always growing.
Become a partner, volunteer, sponsor, or intern today.
Let us know how you would like to get involved!

CONTACT US

sign up for our mailing list to stay informed on the latest films and environmental headlines.

Subscribers receive a free day pass for streaming Cinema Verde.
Thank you! Your submission has been received!
Oops! Something went wrong while submitting the form.