Feb 17th 2022
SANYA
The Economist Feb 19th 2022 edition
Conservation conversation
China is trying to become a champion of biodiversity
It has a lot of ground to make up
CHINA’S IMPRIMATUR on the “Kunming declaration” goes beyond its name. Signed by over 100 countries in October, the pledge set the tone for COP15, the largest UN
biodiversity gathering in a decade. (First scheduled for 2020, it was
delayed several times because of covid-19.) The conference, taking place
in two parts, is being hosted by China for the first time. Its second
meeting was scheduled for April but also looks likely to be postponed.
The host city is the capital of Yunnan, a south-western province that is
a showcase of the biodiversity that China needs to preserve, from
steamy jungle to mountain glaciers.
As a forum in which China can demonstrate its green leadership credentials, COP15 has a special appeal. The country is alert to the importance of global norms on mitigating climate change. Even when in dispute on other matters, America and China have shown co-operation on limiting emissions. But, with a Senate that has a poor record for ratifying environmental treaties, America is not a party to the UN’s convention on biodiversity, which was signed into force by over 190 member states in 1993. That lets China run this show. The theme for Kunming is its homegrown idea of sustainable growth: “ecological civilisation”.
The term was written into China’s constitution in 2018, suggesting how central it now is in guiding development. The Kunming declaration is filled with other favourite greening concepts of the Communist Party, including the “two-mountains theory”, attributed to President Xi Jinping. This states that “green mountains are gold mountains”: that is, the environment can no longer be sacrificed for development.
For decades, China pursued single-minded economic growth, which allowed millions to lift themselves out of poverty. But pollution and over-exploitation damaged wildlife and habitats. The number of China’s terrestrial vertebrate species—a good indicator of biodiversity—has halved since 1970. More than one in five surviving species faces extinction. In the five decades to 2000 over half of the country’s mangroves—essential breeding grounds for aquatic life—disappeared. Some 90% of grasslands are at varying stages of degradation or desertification, and almost half of wild-animal populations are in decline, decimated by the illegal trade in wildlife.
Yet, despite the ravages of urbanisation, China has much left to protect. It is home to 10% of the world’s plant species, 14% of animal ones and 20% of fish. At the second meeting, delegates will set goals for 2030 to preserve global plant and animal life. The stakes are high. Signatories failed to meet any of the targets they set for themselves in 2010, when they last met, in Japan. In October Mr Xi launched the Kunming Biodiversity Fund, to which China has contributed 1.5bn yuan ($230m). Li Shuo of Greenpeace, an NGO, says this larger commitment “could be the impetus others need” to spend more. Mr Xi also announced the formal opening of five national parks, spanning 230,000 sq km, home to over a quarter of China’s terrestrial wildlife species. (America’s 63 national parks cover 340,000 sq km.)
Still, China’s broader commitment is far from clear. In 2020, in a speech to the UN General Assembly, Mr Xi unexpectedly committed the country to carbon neutrality by 2060. Then in September he announced that the country would not finance new coal projects abroad. But for now, China remains the largest consumer of coal and emitter of carbon dioxide. Success in stemming deforestation is mitigated by its parallel rise as the world’s largest importer of wood. Greenpeace called the Kunming declaration “a toothless tiger”.
Keeping citizens happy is becoming a powerful incentive for China. They are vocal about more than polluted water and toxic air. The global debate about the origins of covid-19 has put a focus on the costs of destroying habitats and trading wildlife. In February 2020 China’s legislature expanded the scope of its wildlife protection law to ban the consumption of almost all wild animals. In a report published in January, the World Economic Forum estimated that 65% of China’s GDP, or $9trn, is “at risk of disruption from nature loss”.
No mangrove is an island
Perhaps no province so clearly illustrates that trade-off than the island of Hainan, a lush tourist hotspot off the southern coast. Last year its white sandy beaches and monstrous resorts drew 80m (almost entirely domestic) tourists. Some came for the newly opened Hainan Tropical Rainforest National Park, one of the five scenic areas announced by Mr Xi. Though covering just 4,400 sq km, the rainforest is home to nearly 20% of China’s amphibian species and almost 40% of its bird species.
Hainan is China’s smallest province, so it is hardly representative. But it is a useful case study, because it is straining under the excesses of tourism and development while trying to protect its environment. Those goals are usually in conflict. But local NGOs are hoping that, if managed well, tourism can be part of the solution. They have little choice: such pressures will only grow as Hainan transforms into a vast free-trade port, as called for in plans unveiled in 2020. The island wants its duty-free market to grow tenfold by 2025, to $50bn.
In the 1950s, jungle was cleared for state farms producing rubber. At that time, there were about 2,000 Hainan gibbons in the area. By 1970 only around ten were left, and it is still the world’s rarest primate (pictured). But now, Hainan is being praised for its rescue efforts, which include replanting the ape’s favourite lychee and fig trees. In September the park announced that two babies had brought the population to 35.
Preservation extends beyond the park. At COP15, China aimed to become the first country to put 30% of its land and sea under protection by 2030. Hainan has already drawn a “red line” around 27% of its land and 35% of its coastal waters: any construction in these zones that harms the environment is banned. Land reclamation, shrimp ponds and sewage discharge have long contributed to mangroves’ disappearance. Now Hainan is halting such encroachment and replanting trees. National mangrove coverage increased by almost half between 2000 and 2019, to 30,000 hectares.
Local initiatives help. Blue Ribbon Ocean Conservation Association, a local NGO, patrols mangroves, clearing away invading species. Its data-collection methods on coastal walks have been adopted elsewhere. In Meilian, a pilot village, it has got fishermen to use nets with larger mesh.
Young visitors are starting to pay a premium for sustainable produce. They want to enjoy a nice environment, says Pu Bingmei of Blue Ribbon. More are joining in ocean-conservation activities on holiday, such as the beach clean-ups that her NGO organises. In late 2020 Hainan became the first province to ban single-use plastic.
The youngest mangrove forest is in Tongqi Bay. A wiry fisherman says he has been banned from farming whelks in shallow coastal pools. “Mangroves mean more fish, more shrimp, more whelks,” he says, as if reciting. Ms Pu hopes that shoppers’ cash will boost local-government funding for eco-projects. But, she says, “As tourism grows year by year, Hainan will forever need to find a new balance.” ■
This article appeared in the China section of the print edition under the headline "Conservation conversation"