Editor’s note: “The 2025 Queensland floods refer to significant flooding that impacted the northeast Australian state of Queensland in late January, early February, into March and April 2025. The disaster resulted in at least two fatalities from flooding, 31 fatalities from a disease outbreak and prompted mass evacuation orders in Queensland’s coastal regions.”
According to flood gauges, the enormous body of water has surpassed the 1974 event, widely considered the largest flood in Queensland history. But it was still sitting within the floodplain, Sheldon says, just “reaching the edges” of where people thought it would go.
This was a natural phenomenon, Sheldon says, even though the devastation experienced by towns and communities was awful.
“The beauty of these river systems is that they are some of the last unregulated rivers in the world. What we’re witnessing is just rivers being rivers. There are no big dams on these systems. There’s no massive irrigation industry. So this is just what big rivers do.”
“But amid the challenges and the loss, Rowlands said the normally dusty flood plains around his home town were already lush and green and “pretty magic”.
And when the waters do recede, he expects these landscapes, normally among the harshest in the world, to explode with life.”
The unforgiving red earth of the Australian outback has undergone a jaw-dropping transformation — and locals are calling it a “once in a lifetime opportunity” to witness Mother Nature at her finest.
Intense flooding submerged usually dry areas of Queensland state in eastern Australia during the last week of March, forcing many people to evacuate and leave their livestock behind.
David Crisafulli, the Queensland premier, called the floods “unprecedented” as several places in western Queensland recorded the worst floods in the last 50 years, CNN reported. Some of the affected areas are normally very dry, including the Munga-Thirri-Simpson Desert, a vast arid region known for its sand dunes.
The rains started on March 23 as an inland low pressure area pulled monsoon rain from the tropical north of Australia into the arid landscape of southern Queensland, The Guardian reported. Cyclone Dianne, which reached Queensland from the west a few days later, further intensified the rains.
With rainfall reaching 600 millimeters (24 inches) over the last week of March, almost double the yearly average of some towns, record-breaking flood levels were reported in central Queensland’s Stonehenge, Jundah and Windorah areas. ABC news called it “the biggest flood in living memory for many people across outback Queensland,” exceeding the infamous 1974 flooding in the region.
In many towns, people were rescued using helicopters.
“We flew over a lot of water. We were just amazed how much water is around our place where we have never seen water before,” resident Ann-Maree Lloyd, evacuated by air from their home in the town of Yaraka, told ABC.
The agriculture industry is also facing significant losses. Crisafulli said more than 140,000 livestock, including cattle, sheep, goats and horses, were reported missing or dead, The Guardianreported on April 2. “This number will continue to rise,” he added. Images online show animals stuck in floods or mud.
Crisafulli said recovery may take years. For the agricultural industry, it means rebuilding some 4,700 kilometers (2,900 miles) of private roads and 3,500 km (2,200 mi) of fencing.
“Not only economically, but psychosocially — we’re already getting reports of landholders that are struggling mentally with the prospect of what they know is to come,” Tony Rayner, mayor of the affected Longreach region, told The Guardian.
Environmental geography professor Steve Turton wrote in The Conversation that some meteorologists have dubbed the recent rains a pseudo-monsoon, “because the normal Australian monsoon doesn’t reach this far south — the torrential rains of the monsoonal wet season tend to fall closer to the northern coasts.”
He added most of the rainwater dumped in the dry areas will now flow slowly through channels on the ground until it fills up Kati Thanda-Lake Eyre, usually a massive, salty, dry depression in the northern region of South Australia state, covering an area of more than 9,000 km2 (3,500 mi2).
“When Kati Thanda-Lake Eyre fills, it creates an extraordinary spectacle,” Turton wrote. Millions of brine shrimp hatch from eggs in the waters, which draw fish carried in the floodwaters, which in turn attract many waterbirds, he added.
Editor’s note: “I think we’re in the midst of a collapse of civilization, and we’re definitely in the midst of the end of the American empire. And when empires start to fail, a lot of people get really crazy. In TheCulture of Make Believe, I predicted the rise of the Tea Party. I recognized that in a system based on competition and where people identify with the system, when times get tough, they wouldn’t blame the system, but instead, they would indicate it’s the damn Mexicans’ fault or the damn black people’s fault or the damn women’s fault or some other group. The thing that I didn’t predict was that the Left would go insane in its own way. I anticipated the rise of an authoritarian Right, but not authoritarianism more generally, to which the Left is not immune. The collapse of empire results in increased insecurity and the demand for stability. The cliché about Mussolini is that he made the trains run on time, that he brought about stability.” – Derrick Jensen
It’s not just stupid people. People can be very smart as individuals, but collectively we are stupid. Postmodernism is a case in point. It starts with a great idea, that we are influenced by the stories we’re told and the stories we’re told are influenced by history. It begins with the recognition that history is told by the winners and that the history we were taught through the 1940s, 50s and 60s was that manifest destiny is good, civilization is good, expanding humanity is good. Exemplary is the 1962 film How the West Was Won. It’s extraordinary in how it regards the building of dams and expansion of agriculture as simply great. Postmodernism starts with the insight that such a story is influenced by who has won, which is great, but then it draws the conclusion that nothing is real and there are only stories.
“This is the cult-like behavior of the postmodern left: if you disagree with any of the Holy Commandments of postmodernism/queer theory/transgender ideology, you must be silenced on not only that but on every other subject. Welcome to the death of discourse, brought to you by the postmodern left.”
I once asked a group of my students if they knew what the term postmodernism meant: one replied that it’s when you put everything in quotation marks. It wasn’t such a bad answer, because concepts such as “reality”, “truth” and “humanity” are invariably put under scrutiny by thinkers and “texts” associated with postmodernism.
Postmodernism is often viewed as a culture of quotations.
Take Matt Groening’s The Simpsons (1989–). The very structure of the television show quotes the classic era of the family sitcom. While the misadventures of its cartoon characters ridicule all forms of institutionalised authority – patriarchal, political, religious and so on – it does so by endlessly quoting from other media texts.
This form of hyperconscious “intertextuality” generates a relentlessly ironic or postmodern worldview.
Relationship to modernism
The difficulty of defining postmodernism as a concept stems from its wide usage in a range of cultural and critical movements since the 1970s. Postmodernism describes not only a period but also a set of ideas, and can only be understood in relation to another equally complex term: modernism.
Modernism was a diverse art and cultural movement in the late 19th and early 20th centuries whose common thread was a break with tradition, epitomised by poet Ezra Pound’s 1934 injunction to “make it new!”.
The “post” in postmodern suggests “after”. Postmodernism is best understood as a questioning of the ideas and values associated with a form of modernism that believes in progress and innovation. Modernism insists on a clear divide between art and popular culture.
But like modernism, postmodernism does not designate any one style of art or culture. On the contrary, it is often associated with pluralism and an abandonment of conventional ideas of originality and authorship in favour of a pastiche of “dead” styles.
Postmodern architecture
The shift from modernism to postmodernism is seen most dramatically in the world of architecture, where the term first gained widespread acceptance in the 1970s.
One of the first to use the term, architectural critic Charles Jencks suggested the end of modernism can be traced to an event in St Louis on July 15, 1972 at 3:32pm. At that moment, the derelict Pruitt-Igoe public housing project was demolished.
Built in 1951 and initially celebrated, it became proof of the supposed failure of the whole modernist project.
Jencks argued that while modernist architects were interested in unified meanings, universal truths, technology and structure, postmodernists favoured double coding (irony), vernacular contexts and surfaces. The city of Las Vegas became the ultimate expression of postmodern architecture.
Famous theorists
Theorists associated with postmodernism often used the term to mark a new cultural epoch in the West. For philosopher Jean-François Lyotard, the postmodern condition was defined as “incredulity towards metanarratives”; that is, a loss of faith in science and other emancipatory projects within modernity, such as Marxism.
Marxist literary theorist Fredric Jameson famously argued postmodernism was “the cultural logic of late capitalism” (by which he meant post-industrial, post-Fordist, multi-national consumer capitalism).
These included, to paraphrase: the substitution of pastiche for the satirical impulse of parody; a predilection for nostalgia; and a fixation on the perpetual present.
In Jameson’s pessimistic analysis, the loss of historical temporality and depth associated with postmodernism was akin to the world of the schizophrenic.
Postmodern visual art
In the visual arts, postmodernism is associated with a group of New York artists – including Sherrie Levine, Richard Prince and Cindy Sherman – who were engaged in acts of image appropriation, and have since become known as The Pictures Generation after a 1977 show curated by Douglas Crimp.
By the 1980s postmodernism had become the dominant discourse, associated with “anything goes” pluralism, fragmentation, allusions, allegory and quotations. It represented an end to the avant-garde’s faith in originality and the progress of art.
But the origins of these strategies lay with Dada artist Marcel Duchamp, and the Pop artists of the 1960s in whose work culture had become a raw material. After all, Andy Warhol was the direct progenitor of the kitsch consumerist art of Jeff Koons in the 1980s.
Postmodern cultural identity
Postmodernism can also be a critical project, revealing the cultural constructions we designate as truth and opening up a variety of repressed other histories of modernity. Such as those of women, homosexuals and the colonised.
The modernist canon itself is revealed as patriarchal and racist, dominated by white heterosexual men. As a result, one of the most common themes addressed within postmodernism relates to cultural identity.
American conceptual artist Barbara Kruger’s statement that she is “concerned with who speaks and who is silent: with what is seen and what is not” encapsulates this broad critical project.
Australia has been theorised by Paul Taylor and Paul Foss, editors of the influential journal Art & Text, as already postmodern, by virtue of its culture of “second-degree” – its uniquely unoriginal, antipodal appropriations of European culture.
If the language of postmodernism waned in the 1990s in favour of postcolonialism, the events of 9/11 in 2001 marked its exhaustion.
On December 14th 1982, a blockade was launched to stop the construction of a hydroelectric dam that would have flooded Tasmania’s Franklin and Gordon rivers and surrounding old-growth forests. Over the next 3 months, over 1,340 people were arrested for trespassing, occupying roads and work sites, and chaining themselves to equipment. The protest gained widespread national and global support and played a major role in the cancellation of the project.
Tasmanian Wilderness Society blocks dam construction (Franklin River Campaign) 1981-83
In 1976, the Hydro Electric Commission of Tasmania solidified their plans with the Australian government to build a dam across the Franklin and Gordon Rivers, in the Franklin-Gordon Wild Rivers National Park. The Tasmanian Wilderness Society formed not long after this announcement to take action against the Hydro Electric Commission and their plans to bulldoze the surrounding wilderness for the construction of the dam. The director of the Wilderness Society and leader of the anti-dam campaign for the following seven years was Bob Brown, a local environmentalist and general practitioner.
From 1976 through 1981, the Tasmanian Wilderness Society focused on creating awareness and education through public meetings, pamphlets, and tours of the Franklin River. They focused heavily on the danger to endangered species and ancient rain forests that flooding would have as a result of the Hydro Electric dam being built.
In 1981, the discovery of ancient aboriginal paintings in caves of the lower Franklin River region ignited the controversy. The caves were filled with not only Aboriginal paintings, but campfires, tools and animal bones that dated back thousands of years. This discovery created an even larger debate over the construction of the dam, bringing it into the political sphere, as Australia was nearing both state and federal elections. Candidates chose a side of the issue to include in their platform. Throughout their actions, the Tasmanian Wilderness Society maintained pressure to urge politicians to take a definite stance on the Franklin Dam issue.
The Tasmanian state government announced plans to hold a referendum to engage citizens in the Hydro Electric Commission’s decision. The Wilderness Society asked that a “NO DAMS” option be included in the referendum. In the lead-up to the referendum, the campaigners distributed yellow, triangular “NO DAMS” stickers. The Tasmanian government announced that the referendum would have two options, both of which took the construction of the dam as given. The two options only differed by location: Gordon Below Franklin and Gordon above Olga. The Wilderness Society encouraged voters to take part in a “Write-in”, by writing “NO DAMS” on their ballot in protest. When the government held the referendum on 12 December 1981, 33% of the voters wrote “NO DAMS” on their ballots.
Although federally the Australian Labour Party was quite popular in their anti-dam platform, pro-dam political parties were more popular in the Tasmanian state. In May 1982, the Liberal party under Robin Gray (a pro-dam politician) won the majority of seats in Tasmania and Gray became the Premier. Upon his election, he announced plans to begin construction. The dam itself was to cover 33 kilometers of the Franklin River and 37 kilometers of the Gordon River.
In response to this decision, in August and September, Bob Brown went on tour screening films of the Franklin River to raise support and awareness. Brown and the Wilderness Society also organized rallies to gain the attention of influential political figures. During a Melbourne rally, David Bellamy, a British botanist and T.V. presenter toured expressed their anti-dam positions to the 5,000 participants. The goal of this portion of the campaign was to increase pressure on the Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser to intervene through Tasmanian State government and stop the dam. Fraser did not intervene and override the state legislation, as he believed it was a state government issue
and not a federal one.
In November 1982, 14,000 people converged on the streets of Melbourne for another rally. Bob Brown announced that they would blockade the construction of the dam site beginning on 14 December 1982.
On 14 December 1982, 2,500 people converged at the dam site to participate in the blockade. Protesters made a human chain through the forest to prevent construction workers from entering the site. Protesters also blockaded by water on canoes, to prevent police from bringing machinery into the site by a barge. These blockaders maintained morale and enthusiasm through the use of song. Protesters developed songs over the course of the campaign that were regularly sung during rallies, marches, in jail, and at the blockade site. Folk singer Shane Howard wrote the official anthem of the campaign, titled “Let the Franklin Flow”. During the course of the blockade, police arrested 1,440 people. David Bellamy and Claudio Alcorso (a Hobart Millionaire) participated in the blockade and were arrested.
On 1 March 1983, the Wilderness Society held a day of action during which 231 people were arrested in their boats on the Gordon River and the Wilderness Society’s flag was flown above the Hydro Electric Commission building in Hobart, Australia.
The Tasmanian Wilderness Society drew further attention on 2 March 1983 by printing full-page colour photographs in Australian newspapers of the Franklin River area. The captions on these publications read, “Could you vote for a party that would destroy this?” This was an attention-grabbing act as few publications used colour at the time.
On 5 March 1983, the Australian Labour Party under new Prime Minister, Bob Hawke (who maintained an anti-dam platform) won the federal election and announced that he
would halt the dam construction. The Australian Labour Party introduced regulations under the National Parks and Wildlife Conservation Act 1975. Additionally, Hawke declared the Franklin River area a World Heritage site, outlawing the dam under the World Heritage Properties Conservation Act 1983.
The Tasmanian state ignored the new regulations, as they believed that the federal government could not legally intervene in this state-level issue. The company contracted by the Tasmanian government continued clearing the site until the federal government brought the Tasmanian government to High Court on 31 May 1983. On 1 July 1983, the High Court ruled in favour of the federal government and proclaimed that they could legally enforce the international standards for a World Heritage Site on a state government.
The Franklin River campaign was so successful that it largely ended the generation of electricity through hydro dams in Australia. The federal government demanded that the Tasmanian government give a compensation package of $270 million to the Wilderness Society.
Sources
Walker, J. (2013, July 01). The day the franklin river was saved. Retrieved from https://web.archive.org/web/20130817151559/http://www.australiangeographic.com.au/outdoor/anniversary-of-the-franklin-river-campaigns-success.htm (Link not working 2 March 2022 – Australian Geographic)
The Wilderness Society. (n.d.). History of the franklin river campaign 1976-83. Retrieved from http://www.wilderness.org.au/history-franklin-river-campaign-1976-83. Link not working 2 March 2022
Gibbs, C. J. Legal Database, (1983). Commonwealth v. Tasmania (the Tasmanian dam case). Retrieved from website: http://law.ato.gov.au/atolaw/view.htm?DocID=JUD/158CLR1/00002 (Link not working 2 March 2022)
Documentary – The Franklin River Blockade, The Wilderness Society, 2006
Watch a 20-minute documentary, including footage of various blockade actions. It can be viewed in two parts.
The Wilderness Society. (Producer). (2006, October 17). The Franklin River Blockade 1983, Tasmania (Part 1 of 2) [Web Video]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rGpy8_v3tmI
The Wilderness Society. (Producer). (2006, October 17). The Franklin River Blockade 1983, Tasmania (Part 2 of 2) [Web Video]. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HhCGFHkzifQ
The story of the Tasmanian Dam case in 1983 from a lecture on Commonwealth environmental laws at The University of Queensland, Brisbane, Australia, given by Dr Chris McGrath in 2015.
To conclude then, while the Franklin blockade demonstrates the limitations of protest in Australia it shows that symbolic protest can influence important decisions. Symbolic protest will be of use to protesters in a limited set of circumstances.
The Franklin River blockade became one of the most iconic in Australian history, stopping the damming of the river and bringing footage of rugged forests and civil disobedience into loungerooms of the country on the news. Members of Goanna (playing as the Franklin Gordon River Ensemble) soundtracked the blockade with the singalong anthem Let The Franklin Flow.
Here is an Easy Read Guide called The Franklin River Story. Easy Read uses clear, everyday language matched with images to make sure everyone understands.
Editor’s note: You have nothing to fear from Artificial Intelligence (AI), at least that is what IT will tell you. It is called “alignment faking“, someone or thing purports to believe something they don’t because it could raise them in the esteem of potential “evaluators.” AI could save the world, but first, it will ruin the environment. AI has become an energy vampire. But communities are beginning to organize, pushing back against the unchecked expansion of data centres and the drain they incur on local resources. The longer the AI bubble continues the more it results in direct investment in physical infrastructure, and the more disastrous it will be for communities and the planet. AI is a product that people actively don’t want: including AI in marketing materials reduces the desire to purchase the product. AI is a proven loser.
AI is hailed as a game-changer. It has been hyped to solve everything from waste to climate change. But beneath its touted “transformative potential” lies a pressing concern: its environmental impact. The development, manufacture, maintenance, and disposal of AI technologies all have a large carbon footprint. Advertising algorithms are deliberately designed to increase consumption, which assuredly comes with a very significant ecological cost.
A record 62 million tonnes (Mt) of e-waste was produced in 2022, Up 82% from 2010; On track to rise another 32%, to 82 million tonnes, in 2030. Less than a quarter (22.3) per cent of the e-waste was documented as properly collected for recycling in 2022, with the remainder disposed of primarily in landfills. An undetermined amount of used electronics is shipped from the United States and other “developed” countries to “developing” countries that cannot reject imports or handle these materials appropriately.
Technology never exists in a vacuum, and the rise of cryptocurrency in the last two or three years shows that. While plenty of people were making extraordinary amounts of money from investing in bitcoin and its competitors, there was consternation about the impact those get-rich-quick speculators had on the environment.
Mining cryptocurrency was environmentally taxing. The core principle behind it was that you had to expend effort to get rich. To mint a bitcoin or another cryptocurrency, you had to first “mine” it. Your computer would be tasked with completing complicated equations that, if successfully done, could create a new entry on to the blockchain.
“Ultimately, the environmental impact of AI models like me will depend on how they are used,” Bard said. “If we use AI to solve environmental problems, then we can have a positive impact on the planet. However, if we use AI to create new environmental problems, then we will have a negative impact.”
Power-hungry AI is driving a surge in tech giant carbon emissions. Nobody knows what to do about it
Since the release of ChatGPT in November 2022, the world has seen an incredible surge in investment, development and use of artificial intelligence (AI) applications. According to one estimate, the amount of computational power used for AI is doubling roughly every 100 days.
The social and economic impacts of this boom have provoked reactions around the world. European regulators recently pushed Meta to pause plans to train AI models on users’ Facebook and Instagram data. The Bank of International Settlements, which coordinates the world’s central banks, has warned AI adoption may change the way inflation works.
The environmental impacts have so far received less attention. A single query to an AI-powered chatbot can use up to ten times as much energy as an old-fashioned Google search.
Broadly speaking, a generative AI system may use 33 times more energy to complete a task than it would take with traditional software. This enormous demand for energy translates into surges in carbon emissions and water use, and may place further stress on electricity grids already strained by climate change.
Energy
Most AI applications run on servers in data centres. In 2023, before the AI boom really kicked off, the International Energy Agency estimated data centres already accounted for 1–1.5% of global electricity use and around 1% of the world’s energy-related CO₂ emissions.
How is the rapid growth in AI use changing these figures? Recent environmental reporting by Microsoft, Meta and Google provides some insight.
Microsoft has significant investments in AI, with a large stake in ChatGPT-maker OpenAI as well as its own Copilot applications for Windows. Between 2020 and 2023, Microsoft’s disclosed annual emissions increased by around 40%, from the equivalent of 12.2 million tonnes of CO₂ to 17.1 million tonnes.
These figures include not only direct emissions but also indirect emissions, such as those caused by generating the electricity used to run data centres and those that result from the use of the company’s products. (These three categories of emissions are referred to as Scope 1, 2 and 3 emissions, respectively.)
Meta too is sinking huge resources into AI. In 2023, the company disclosed is Scope 3 emissions had increased by over 65% in just two years, from the equivalent of 5 million tonnes of CO₂ in 2020 to 8.4 million tonnes in 2022.
Google’s emissions were almost 50% higher in 2023 than in 2019. The tech giant’s 2024 environmental report notes that planned emissions reductions will be difficult “due to increasing energy demands from the greater intensity of AI compute”.
Water
Data centres generate a lot of heat, and consume large amounts of water to cool their servers. According to a 2021 study, data centres in the United States use about 7,100 litres of water for each megawatt-hour of energy they consume.
Google’s US data centres alone consumed an estimated 12.7 billion litres of fresh water in 2021.
In regions where climate change is increasing water stress, the water use of data centres is becoming a particular concern. The recent drought in California, where many tech companies are based, has led companies including Google, Amazon and Meta to start “water positive” initiatives.
These big tech firms have announced commitments to replenish more water than they consume by 2030. Their plans include projects such as designing ecologically resilient watershed landscapes and improving community water conservation to improve water security.
Climate risk
Where data centres are located in or near cities, they may also end up competing with people for resources in times of scarcity. Extreme heat events are one example.
Extreme heat translates to health impacts on local populations. A Lancet 2022 study found that even a 1°C increase in temperature is positively associated with increased mortality and morbidity.
On days of extreme heat, air conditioning can save lives. Data centres also like to keep cool, so their power use will spike with the temperature, raising the risk of blackouts and instability in electricity grids.
What’s next?
So what now? As we have seen, tech companies are increasingly aware of the issue. How is that translating into action?
Earlier this year we surveyed IT managers in Australia and New Zealand to ask what they thought about how AI applications are driving increased energy use. We found 72% are already adopting or piloting AI technologies.
More than two-thirds (68%) said they were concerned about increased energy consumption for AI needs. However, there is also significant uncertainty about the size of the increase.
Many IT managers also lack the necessary skills to adequately address these sustainability impacts, regardless of corporate sustainability commitments. Education and training for IT managers to understand and address the sustainability impacts of AI is urgently required.
Editor’s note: “Our heating of the Earth through carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gas pollution, is closely connected to our excessive energy consumption. And with many of the ways we use that energy, we’re also producing another less widely discussed pollutant: industrial noise. Like greenhouse-gas pollution, noise pollution is degrading our world—and it’s not just affecting our bodily and mental health but also the health of ecosystems on which we depend utterly.”
“Our study presents a strong, albeit selfish, argument for protecting natural soundscapes.”
Wind turbines in coastal waters, along with the noise from construction and surveys, have led to concerns about their impact on marine life. “In particular, cetaceans such as whales and dolphins are likely to be sensitive to the noises and increased marine traffic brought by these turbines.” These marine mammals’ survival depends on the technology of bounce to hear noise thousands of miles away through echolocation.
There are growing concerns regarding artificial sounds produced in waters that could impact marine life negatively. The effects of ocean noise produced by sonar, oil and gas exploration, offshore wind, and ship traffic could alter the behavior of mammals and cause hearing loss or potentially even death. “The latest discovery in this field could provide substantial ground for alterations in the Marine Mammal Protection Act that dictated the kind of noise-inducing activities that can be carried out in the waters. This new conclusion could hinder the scale of the activities or even get certain types of equipment banned from use at sites.”
‘It’s nonstop’: how noise pollution threatens the return of Norway’s whales.
It started as a simple spreadsheet that documented locations where researchers were recording sound to monitor biodiversity. Three years on, the Worldwide Soundscapes project is a global database on when, how and where passive acoustic monitoring is being deployed around the world to study terrestrial as well as aquatic ecosystems.
“This is a project that is now becoming too big to be handled by only one person,” Kevin Darras, currently senior researcher at France’s National Research Institute for Agriculture, Food and Environment (INRAE), who conceived the project, told Mongabay in a video interview.
Darras started the project when he was a postdoctoral researcher at Westlake University in China. The idea struck when he was waiting for updates on another project he was working on at the time. With the project, Darras said he was attempting to fill a void that often led to duplication of efforts in the research community that uses passive acoustic monitoring — audio recorders left out in the wild — to study biodiversity around the world. “There was a scientific gap in the sense that we didn’t know where and when we were sampling sound for monitoring biodiversity,” he said.
Passive acoustic monitoring has long been used to listen in on insects, birds and other animals in ecosystems around the world. It’s aided scientists to detect elusive species in a noninvasive manner. For example, a team in Australia used acoustic recorders and artificial intelligence to track down the breeding hollows of pink cockatoos (Lophochroa leadbeateri leadbeateri) in a remote region. The method has also helped researchers get insights into the behavioral and communications patterns of animals.
Despite advances in recent years with more sophisticated recorders and automated data analysis, Darras said researchers still haven’t “achieved standardization in terms of deployment or analysis.” Darras said he hoped to use the Worldwide Soundscapes project to help build a supportive network that could potentially work toward harmonizing approaches to passive acoustic monitoring.
“We hope people will look at the data and see what is already done to avoid duplication,” he said. “They might also probably find a colleague’s work and wonder, ‘Oh, why is this gap not filled? Maybe I can do something there.’”
Kevin Darras spoke with Mongabay’s Abhishyant Kidangoor on why he started the Worldwide Soundscapes project, how he envisions it growing into a global network, and the potential of ecoacoustics in biodiversity monitoring. The following interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity.
Mongabay: To start with, how would you describe the Worldwide Soundscapes project to someone who knows nothing about it?
Kevin Darras: In a fairly simple way, I would describe it as a simple inventory of what has been done globally, whether it’s aquatic or terrestrial, in terms of acoustic recording for monitoring biodiversity. Our first goal was to compile something like a phonebook for connecting people who are usually separated by the realms that we study. What I mean by that is we don’t communicate as much among ourselves. For example, marine scientists usually don’t talk much with terrestrial scientists. We have now succeeded in connecting and bringing people together. However, very early on, we realized that we could do more than that, and that we could put our metadata together to get a comprehensive picture of what is going on worldwide in terms of acoustic sampling.
Mongabay: What gaps were you trying to fill with this project?
Kevin Darras: There was a scientific gap in the sense that we didn’t know where and when we were sampling sound for monitoring biodiversity. There was also this gap in the community that made us not so well aware of the developments in other fields. There have been a lot of parallel efforts in different realms when, in reality, the same solutions might already exist in other communities. Our aim is to first make everyone aware of what is out there and ideally, one day, to harmonize our approaches and to benefit from each other’s experience.
Mongabay: Could you give me an example of how acoustic research efforts were duplicated in the past?
Kevin Darras: There are lots of examples when it comes to sound recording, calibration and the deployment of equipment. Because deployment in the deep sea is very much more troublesome and costly, our marine scientists go to great lengths to calibrate their equipment to make every deployment really worth it and to get data that are standardized. As a result, they are able to usually measure noise levels, for instance. Whereas those of us in the terrestrial realm have access to such cheap recorders that setting them up is almost too easy. The consequence is that, generally, we have very large study designs where we deploy hundreds of sensors and recorders and end up with a massive data set that, unfortunately, isn’t very well calibrated. We would only have relative sound levels and won’t be able to really measure noise levels.
On the other hand, I think the community that does terrestrial monitoring has made some great strides with respect to the use of artificial intelligence for identifying sound. By now, we have achieved a pretty consistent approach to bird identification with AI. This is something that could benefit people working in the aquatic realm who often have custom-made analysis procedures.
Mongabay: What was the spark to get started with this?
Kevin Darras: It started three years ago. I was actually busy with another project where I was working on an embedded vision camera. Between the development rounds, we had some time where we were waiting for the next prototype. Rather than just sit and wait, I told my supervisor that I wanted to start another project while waiting for updates. This is when I started contacting people from my close network to find out where they’ve been recording. It started with filling an online spreadsheet, which has grown since then. By now, I believe, a good portion of the community that uses passive acoustic monitoring knows about the project.
Mongabay: Could you tell me how it works currently?
Kevin Darras: The way it currently works is that people find out from their colleagues. Or we actively search for them. Then we send them all the basic information about the project. We ask them to fill in the data in a Google spreadsheet, but we are slowly transitioning to enter everything directly on a website. In the very beginning of the project, we didn’t have the capability, and we needed a really easy and effective way of adding people’s data. A Google spreadsheet was a fairly good idea then. Then we validate the data to see if things make sense. We cross-validate them with our collaborators after showing them the timelines and the maps that represent when and where their recordings have been made. In the end, there is a map which shows where all sounds have been recorded. For each collection, you can also view when exactly the recordings have been made.
Mongabay: Could you give me a sense of the kind of data in the database?
Kevin Darras: If you were a potential contributor, you would have to first provide some general information. Who are the people involved? Are the data externally stored recordings or links? Then we would get to the level of the sampling sites. We require everyone to provide coordinates and also to specify what were the exact ecosystems they were sampling sounds in. That’s the spatial information.
For the temporal information, we ask people to specify when their deployments started and when it stopped, with details on date and time. We also ask for whether they are scheduled recordings with predefined temporal intervals, like daily or weekly, or duty-cycled recordings, meaning one minute or every five minutes, or if they are continuous recordings.
We also request audio parameters like the sampling frequency, high-pass filters, number of channels, the recorders and microphones that they used. Lastly, we ask them to specify whether their deployments were targeting particular [wildlife], which is not always the case. Sometimes people just record soundscapes with a very holistic view.
Mongabay: How do you hope this database will help the community that uses passive acoustic monitoring?
Kevin Darras: We hope people will look at the data and see what is already done to avoid duplication. They might also probably find a colleague’s work and wonder, “Oh, why is this gap not filled? Maybe I can do something there.”
Mongabay: What surprised you the most?
Kevin Darras: It’s probably how big some of these studies were. I was amazed by the sampling effort that, for instance, some Canadian groups did over hundreds of sites over many years.
Also surprising for me was that there were some really gaping holes in our coverage in countries where I would have thought that the means existed for conducting eco-acoustic studies. Many North African countries don’t seem to be doing passive acoustic monitoring. We’ve just had our first collaborator from Turkey. Central Asia is poorly covered. This is for terrestrial monitoring.
For marine monitoring, I was actually surprised to see that the coverage was rather homogeneous. It’s sparse because it’s more difficult to deploy things underwater, but it was globally well distributed. I was surprised to see how many polar deployments there were, for instance, under very challenging conditions. Those are very expensive missions.
Mongabay: What was the biggest challenge in doing this?
Kevin Darras: It’s making everyone happy [laughs].
We had to be fairly flexible with what we expected from people and our criteria. Basically, we decided to trust our collaborators and it worked pretty well. Some people would struggle to provide basic metadata and would have to organize themselves and their data before being able to provide it. Others would be like, “Sure, I can send this to you in five minutes,” and then you get a huge data sheet.
Mongabay: Now that you have a fair idea of how acoustic monitoring is being used around the world, how do you think it is faring when it comes to biodiversity monitoring?
Kevin Darras: I think that the point is too often made that passive acoustic monitoring is something promising and something that has just started. Passive acoustic monitoring has been mature for some time already. It’s true that we haven’t achieved standardization or impact in terms of deployment or analysis, but we are, when using this technology, fairly efficient and effective for gathering rather comprehensive data about biodiversity. I don’t think we need to convince anyone anymore that this is useful and that this is a valid sampling method.
But I have a feeling that this message has not yet reached everyone who’s not using passive acoustic monitoring. It’s rather surprising for me to see that it hasn’t achieved the same level of standardization as what has been done with environmental DNA, when I think that the potential is just as big. Of course, it’s not comparable one to one, but it’s a sampling method that will enable us to have some great global insights.
Mongabay: How do you envision the future of Worldwide Soundscapes?
Kevin Darras: This is a project that is now becoming too big to be handled by only one person. I am soon going to have discussions with the people who want to be involved more deeply so that we have a team that is managing the Worldwide Soundscapes project.
We are going to continue integrating more and more data. We are also looking into automated ways to continue to grow the database from which we can then analyze data to answer macro-ecological questions. As of now, we have only shown the potential of the database. We still need to ask those big ecological questions and show that we can answer them with the database. We would also really like to reach those people in regions where passive acoustic monitoring has not been done yet.
One of the things we’re going to try to develop is something that we’ve tried already on a small scale within our network. To give you an example, I had a North African colleague who wanted to do passive acoustic monitoring in the Sahara and he obtained some recorders from a Polish colleague in the same network. It wasn’t even a loan. They were gifted to him and this enabled him to plug a gap in our coverage. I am hoping that we can develop the network in that sense, where we can loan equipment and provide knowledge for capacity building. It sounds ambitious, but sometimes it’s as simple as sending a postal parcel. I hope it will help expand the use of passive acoustic monitoring.
