Carbon markets, designed to incentivize climate action, are facing a unique challenge: they may inadvertently penalize the long-term stewardship of Indigenous communities. A recent article in Nature Climate Change highlights this issue, drawing attention to the frustration among traditional owners who find their intact lands ineligible for carbon credits while degraded lands owned by others can generate credits through restoration. This unintended consequence, according to the authors, risks entrenching existing inequities and undermining the very integrity of carbon markets.
The crux of the problem lies in the concept of 'additionality', a core principle in carbon markets. It ensures that credits are only issued for climate benefits that wouldn't have occurred otherwise. However, in practice, this often means that restoration of degraded land is rewarded, while long-protected, intact ecosystems are treated as the baseline and assumed to continue without support. This is particularly problematic for Indigenous communities who have been stewards of their lands for generations.
Brian Singleton, a member of the Yirrganydji Aboriginal community and Land Manager, underscores this point. He notes that his people have overseen the stewardship of the Cairns area in northern Australia for thousands of years, long before conservation and ranger programs. Yet, Indigenous people have largely been left out of the conversation around carbon markets. Singleton emphasizes the need for their inclusion, not just to protect the remaining mangrove systems, but also to address the climate challenges they still face, such as dieback, erosion, wash-off, and pollution.
The article also points out that the real issue with the current system is the lack of proper consultation with traditional owners when setting up carbon markets. As a result, the work being done by Indigenous communities to protect and restore their lands cannot be counted, despite the hard work and dedication involved. This has led to a situation where financial opportunities are not being created to support and continue this vital work.
The authors, including legal and policy experts, propose several recommendations to address these issues. These include recognizing that maintaining intact ecosystems often requires active, under-funded governance, particularly in the face of altered fire regimes, feral animals, and changing water flows. They also suggest allowing for conservative recognition of avoided degradation in areas where such risks exist, and ensuring that Indigenous custodians can participate as project owners or equal partners, rather than peripheral stakeholders.
Dr. Vanessa Johnston, a legal scholar and expert in carbon rights, property law, and land use, argues that recognizing stewardship within the concept of additionality is not a call for weaker standards, but rather an overdue correction to a framework designed without Indigenous governance in mind. She believes that this approach aligns with a growing body of research that recognizes land ownership as involving obligations of conservation and protection, not just entitlements.
In conclusion, the article serves as a stark reminder that climate finance systems, despite their good intentions, can backfire if they fail to recognize the value of stewardship, care, and long-term ecosystem protection. It calls for a reevaluation of the additionality requirements of carbon markets to ensure that they support and incentivize the vital work of Indigenous communities in protecting our planet for future generations.
