Brazil holds a unique position in discussions about climate change. The country’s annual greenhouse gas emissions place it in the undesirable group of the five most polluting in the world (or in sixth place, if the European Union is counted as a whole). Its profile, however, is different to other large economies in which the energy sector accounts for two-thirds of total emissions. In Brazil, energy represents less than 20%.
The largest contributor to Brazilian emissions is the (mis)use of the country’s 8.5 million km2 of land. Changes in land use—deforestation and fires in every biome in the country, especially the Amazon—account for almost half (46%) of the greenhouse gases released into the atmosphere. Agricultural production represents another 28%.
The good (but not good enough) news is that contrary to global trends, which saw a new record broken with 1.3% more gases emitted in 2023 than in the previous year, Brazil reduced its emissions by 12%. The improvement is mainly due to a drop in deforestation. Thanks to the involvement of political, economic, and social agents, this number could fall even further, and quickly: it is much easier to stop deforestation than to change the energy mix.
At a time when official statistics are being released and arrangements are being made for the UN climate change conference (COP29), this issue’s cover story provides an overview of Brazilian and global emissions.
Although Brazil’s energy mix is the least dependent on the burning of fossil fuels, classifying it as “clean” can hide serious social and environmental problems, in addition to the emission of methane and carbon dioxide from the decomposition of biomass in forests flooded by dam reservoirs. The country’s energy policy systematically disregards the negative effects of hydroelectric power plants on local populations and ecosystems.
The Belo Monte plant in the Xingu River basin is a perfect example. Its construction required the relocation of thousands of people, impacted fishing and farming, led to a huge increase in violence in the region, and caused health problems (see Pesquisa FAPESP issue nº 284). Recent droughts in the region have made the situation even worse for those who depend on the river for their livelihood.
Local indigenous communities dealing with the water conflict on a daily basis have begun to monitor the power station’s impact on the river flow. The initiative included several riverside communities and was formalized through a partnership with researchers from universities and research centers. This integrated approach enriches the science produced in academia, while the data supports the local population in its fight for survival. Maria Guimarães, our biological sciences editor, tells the story of this partnership, which she discovered through conversations she had during breaks in a meeting of the Amazônia Revelada (Amazon revealed) project in Manaus.
With the premise of developing collaborative science between academic researchers and local communities, the Amazon Revealed project uses remote sensing technology to map the land in impacted areas and to identify archaeological sites. Traces of large populations in the past can help preserve the way of life of the current inhabitants of the Amazon.
Finally, images show a Caatinga (semiarid scrubland biome) that is very different to what we are used to seeing. With 89% of the original area now deforested (see Pesquisa FAPESP issue nº 335), the only entirely Brazilian biome is being studied with the aim of restoring its vegetation and recovering areas cleared to make way for agriculture.
Republish