Robert Macfarlane: Why shouldn't rivers have rights? Companies do
Talking about his new book, Is a River Alive?, the renowned nature writer's conversation is punctuated with his sightings of the birdlife around us: blue tits, goldfinches, a jay making an odd noise. Few would argue they are not alive.
But in a mix of travelogue, nature-writing and philosophy encompassing journeys along waterways in Ecuador, India and Canada, he argues rivers are alive, too — and should have rights. The modern 'rights of nature' movement was arguably born in
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The Guardian
a day ago
- The Guardian
Ten lessons the Aztecs can teach us today
The ancient Aztecs aren't usually grouped with today's self-help gurus. But their philosophy, preserved in early post-conquest records, offers surprisingly sharp tools for modern life. Unlike stoicism or Buddhism, which emphasize internal reflection as the path to a better life, the Aztecs believed that you should start with your surroundings, your relationships, your body and speech. In their view, wisdom begins outside. Here are 10 lessons from their 'outward path', starting with those that clarify life goals. The pursuit of happiness is written into the US Declaration of Independence. Aristotle wrote volumes about its role as the chief aim of our life more than 2,000 years before that. While it's a staple notion in our culture, the Aztecs took a more realistic approach. 'Happiness', when it's not some complicated idea that's drifted from our ordinary meaning, is fleeting and tends to be followed by its opposite: pain or at least fatigue. That means 'happiness' isn't a suitable goal in life, though it at first looks plausible. What you truly want is something richer, and they likened it to rootedness: being firmly grounded in your body, mind, society and nature. We make sacrifices for our friends and our children, after all, and we think our lives are better for it. That's exactly the Aztec point. A second idea, which finds some expression in stoicism and Buddhism, is that you're after a life that is invulnerable. It's the notion that if you're a good person, none of the things that matter in your life can be affected by life's unpredictable events, even by tragedies. The Aztecs wouldn't agree. The best things in life, such as love, integrity and justice, also expose you to pain. Emiliano Zapata, the people's revolutionary in Mexico who was fluent in Nahuatl and loyal to his people, died young because he refused to betray his values. Aztec ethics embrace this tension: that meaning arises from choices that involve risk. A well-rooted life accepts heartbreak as part of the price of significance. It's tempting to think that if you were just smart enough, you'd have all the answers. We tend to valorize the 'lone wolf' individual who knows better than the crowd. But for the Aztecs, you shouldn't need to 'go it alone' if you live in a healthy community of friends and family. Ideally, good thinking is done in good groups. The Aztecs held structured group deliberations, where even the young had a voice, though experience carried weight. They would advise that you could build your own 'decision circle' and vet your goals with people who challenge and support you. If you're thinking alone, you're probably not thinking at your best. The stories of Aztec heroism during the colonial period are legion. For example, it turns out that Cortés had a son, named Martín, with a Native woman. And though Martín should have been treated well, he was left bereft of political protection some time after his (in)famous father died. Local authorities captured him and forced him to endure brutal torture in an attempt to provoke a false confession. Martín never gave in. While such feats of endurance are partly grounded in a person's innate personality, Martín may well have learned some of the ways the Aztecs instilled courage through repeated small hardships. They didn't optimize for ease. They taught their children to sweep before dawn, to carry heavy logs, and to stay up late. But in these many small feats, they also taught them how to sing while they worked and to manage their outlook. Courage starts small and grows strong. We live in a world under the constant gaze of others. Yet, if you want to live your life, and not the life 'they' tell you to lead, you will have to learn to ignore 'them'. Similarly, if you want to live well, to preserve the value of your own self-worth, then you need to learn what is of real value. One father is documented as he proudly recounts doing humble, hard work to raise his son, never stealing even a grain. You can build this skill through strategic vulnerability. Try doing something mildly embarrassing. Speak the truth when it's awkward. Let your social mask slip. That's how you can try to gain some distance from 'their' gaze. A paradox I noticed in graduate school was that I had no problem putting in hours of tedious study, but I would cave on my dieting goals if someone put a cookie in front of me. The Aztecs took an approach that solves this paradox. Willpower comes in three forms: Drive (high-intensity action), Durability (consistent effort), and Discipline (resistance to temptation). You need different tools for different challenges. Running into a flooded basement is not the same as resisting late-night cake. You need to train all three. Consistent action begets more consistent action. Aztec students swept daily before sunrise and kept their rooms clean. Today, it might be spending 15 minutes each day on a foreign language or making your bed. Whatever it is, hook your new effort to an existing habit to build yet more consistent actions. The Aztecs fasted not to shame their bodies but to train them. Fasting was paired with feasting and used to practice discipline, the kind of willpower that opposes temptation. The goal was a higher-level awareness of your reactions. For example, you might notice that hunger comes in waves, rather than building infinitely. Craving, like emotion, can be ridden out if you know what to expect and why you endure. The Aztecs emphasized 'right speech' as a way of aligning outer habits with inner values. Words, once spoken, nudge your mind into specific frames of thought. So they trained children to speak deliberately, truthfully, humbly, and to avoid gossip. Modern psychologists like Robert Cialdini have come to similar conclusions. What you say out loud subtly rewires how you think. So be careful: your words communicate thoughts and calibrate your expectations. The Aztecs believed wisdom starts not with introspection but with habit, ritual and environment. Clean your space. Speak with care. Eat with intention. Build habits that train your body and attune your mind. As you do, your inner world comes into alignment. You don't need to solve your soul before setting your house in order. In fact, the outer path might just be the way to reach your inner peace. Sebastian Purcell is an associate professor of philosophy at Suny-Cortland in New York, where he researches ethics, Aztec philosophy and mathematical logic. He is the author of Discourses of the Elders: the Aztec Huehuetlatolli, a First English Translation and most recently, The Outward Path: The Wisdom of the Aztecs
The Guardian
a day ago
- The Guardian
Tapirs, hummingbirds and a billion-dollar bedrock of gold: the Ecuador reserve that is now a battlefield over a new mine
Golden grasses, mossy hummocks and scattered lakes unfurl across the highlands of Macizo del Cajas, Azuay province. The vastness of this high-altitude Ecuadorian moorland combines with its near-silence to create an empty, alien atmosphere. But this unique landscape teems with life. The páramo – a high-altitude tropical ecosystem that stretches across the northern Andes – is a living sponge, quietly drawing moisture from the clouds that drift at more than 3,000 metres (9,800ft) above sea level. Endangered mountain tapirs and endemic hummingbirds hide among the twisted, copper-barked Polylepis trees. Beneath the ground, ancient tectonic shifts and glaciers have cracked the bedrock, channelling water through veins that feed six large rivers, supplying mountain communities, cities and fragile ecosystems – including the Ecuadorian Amazon. That bedrock, however, also holds billions of dollars in gold, silver and copper. For more than three decades, these deposits have made the Cajas a battlefield between Ecuadorians who see large-scale mining as the answer to the country's economic woes and those who see it as an existential threat. Unesco designated the Cajas a biosphere reserve in 2013, but the title offers scant protection. Mining companies now hold more than 100,000 hectares (247,000 acres) of concessions in the Cajas, with more than 15,000 of those hectares in the páramo. Authorities say that the government has given the most important segments of ecosystems protected or national park status. But scientists argue that the zoning is arbitrary. 'What areas are 'protected' is a political decision, not a technical one,' says Juan Carlos Sánchez-Nivicela, a herpetologist and conservation biologist who has been studying Ecuador's high-altitude ecosystems for more than a decade. 'You can't separate these areas. Any damage done to one directly affects the other.' So far, large-scale mining activity in the páramos has been limited to exploration – in part, thanks to local resistance, inside and outside the courtroom. But now, new battle lines are being drawn in the Cajas. On 23 June, the Canadian mining multinational Dundee Precious Metals was granted its environmental licence for exploitation of the Loma Larga project, which sits on the Quimsacocha páramo and surrounds the protected area. 'The company has satisfactorily fulfilled all requirements and prerequisites necessary … which is very difficult and time consuming in my country,' says Patricio Vargas Coronel, president of Cuenca's Chamber of Mining. 'It can now sign the mining contract and begin construction, generating about 1,200 jobs and an investment of $450m (£337m).' Dundee's president and CEO, David Rae, touts the achievement as 'an important milestone for Loma Larga – an attractive future growth opportunity for [Dundee] with significant potential to deliver strong returns for our investors and stakeholders'. Activists and ecologists, however, allege that the mine could cause enormous environmental damage, that the government has failed to properly consult local communities, and that they are subject to intimidation and surveillance for protesting against the mine. Dundee rejects the claims. 'We are being followed,' says Esther Remache, an anti-mining activist, pointing out the white pickup truck trailing behind. 'Oh, they're just looking after us,' replies Federico Guzmán, councillor for Cuenca and another longtime activist, with a wink. The road to Loma Larga is public, and cuts through the Quimsacocha recreation area. Yet, it's lined with private security personnel who peer out from booths guarding the offices and buildings of Dundee Precious Metals. As Guzman parks his vehicle, the pickup behind also stops and a guard exits, using his phone to film the group of activists, almost all of whom are over 60. 'They always follow us when we go up here,' says Remache, who believes this is an intimidation technique. 'They'll openly photograph us … you have to wonder, what are those photos for?' In a letter to the Guardian, Dundee representatives denied these allegations, noting that all Loma Larga security personnel 'have undergone human rights training and behave with full respect'. They said that the project's fence had been frequently vandalised, and guards took action to prevent trespassing, but that Dundee 'regularly welcomes visitors to the project area'. Quimsacocha, a páramo at an altitude between 3,600m and 3,900m, is a vital water source and biodiversity refuge. It's here that Sánchez-Nivicela says he rediscovered a tiny frog thought to be extinct. 'There's something like 20-plus amphibian species in the Cajas: 80 to 90% of these are endemic – but we keep finding more each year,' he says. Scientists warn that mining in Cajas could irreversibly destroy fragile ecosystems and poison the water supply that hundreds of thousands of people depend on. 'Protection is not just a matter of the environment,' says Sandra Barros, a municipal hydrology engineer who evaluated the risks of the Loma Larga project. 'It is a matter of survival.' Several past referendums held in affected communities had rejected mining in local watersheds. In 2023, a provincial court upheld the decision to suspend the Loma Larga project, but also opened the door for Dundee to revive its project if new environmental studies and local consultations showed support. In April, Daniel Noboa, the country's recently re-elected president, extended the Loma Larga concession for another 25 years. In 2024, he attended the world's largest mining conference in Canada to reassure investors that a new era of Ecuadorian mining was dawning. Current gold prices value Loma Larga's estimated deposits at more than $6bn. Ecuador's government also stands to make hundreds of millions from the project. On 23 June, the country's environmental ministry quietly approved the project's environmental licence – the final hurdle for Dundee to begin exploitation. Dundee's environmental impact assessment (EIA) for Loma Larga claimed mining posed only a 'mild risk' to the ecosystem. However, a study by the municipal water and sanitation company (ETAPA) claimed there were dozens of errors and omissions in that assessment. It concluded mining risked serious, potentially irreversible damage to nature, water resources, and public health in the Quimsacocha region. Other studies corroborate the ETAPA's findings. 'Do you think contamination would stop at some arbitrary red line just because [the mining company] says that's where their impact stops? Of course not. Any contamination will end up in the rivers downstream,' says Barros, the ETAPA study's main author. Dundee, however, called the ETAPAreport 'misinformation' and says that it is 'designing and advancing Loma Larga in line with the highest standards for environmental and water management', pointing to the positive results of its EIA, the evaluation and approval of which 'is the sole responsibility of the ministry for the environment, not ETAPA'. The environment ministry did not respond to the Guardian's requests for comment, and on July 24, Noboa eliminated the environment ministry entirely, transferring its responsibilities to fall under the ministry for mining. Ecuador's constitution requires the government to consult local and Indigenous communities before allowing any mining project to begin. Under Noboa, however, allegations of irregularities in this process have become so widespread that UN human rights officials issued a formal warning last year, saying Indigenous groups and local communities were being excluded from consultations, not offered complete information, and arrested for protest or criticism of projects. 'We are concerned that the failure to convene all potentially affected people, together with the lack of full and impartial information regarding the potential negative consequences of these projects have exacerbated social conflict,' the UN experts say. In other parts of Ecuador, the government has responded to protests with force. When communities protested against Canadian mining in Ecuador's north-western cloud forest last year, Noboa sent in the military. Security forces injured at least 36 people, and more than 100 were charged with terrorism or organised crime offences. In May, the ministry of energy and mines (MEM) said authorities had finished consulting local communities on Loma Larga, and reported that they had agreed to let the project proceed to exploitation. Communities had 'access to ample, timely and adequate information' on the vote, MEM said. But community members and activists had a starkly different view of the consultation: of eight interviewed, not one said they knew that it had taken place. They recalled a day in January, when the environment ministry sent 200 police and troops to 'oversee' a vote on the mine outside town. Instead, one said, authorities were forced to cancel the vote. 'People saw the soldiers, the militarised area, the tents and they showed up to protest,' says Nataly Torres, a sociologist and member of the community. In its report, MEM characterises the protest as 'violent incidents … restricting the right of other members of the community to be consulted'. Dundee says it cooperated with all of Ecuador's 'strict and well-defined regulations'. In a statement, the ministry said that communities had been consulted in accordance with the law. The fear of state violence now hangs over environmental defenders in the Cajas region as well, activists say. 'Now, they have bigger, deadlier arms, and they use them to intimidate us,' Remache says. And the stakes are high for biodiversity, water and communities. 'Any disturbance, any change in land use, any extractive activity [in the Cajas] will directly affect species that have nowhere else to go,' Sánchez says. 'We'll lose not only unique species but also the water supplying entire communities,' he adds. And the outcome here may set a precedent for the rest of Ecuador. 'This is the mother of all battles,' says Carlos Castro, a legal professor and opponent of mining in the region. 'If we lose here, the rest will fall like dominoes.' Find more age of extinction coverage here, and follow the biodiversity reporters Phoebe Weston and Patrick Greenfield in the Guardian app for more nature coverage
The Guardian
a day ago
- The Guardian
Tapirs, hummingbirds and a billion-dollar bedrock of gold: the Ecuador reserve that is now a battlefield over a new mine
Golden grasses, mossy hummocks and scattered lakes unfurl across the highlands of Macizo del Cajas, Azuay province. The vastness of this high-altitude Ecuadorian moorland combines with its near-silence to create an empty, alien atmosphere. But this unique landscape teems with life. The páramo – a high-altitude tropical ecosystem that stretches across the northern Andes – is a living sponge, quietly drawing moisture from the clouds that drift at more than 3,000 metres (9,800ft) above sea level. Endangered mountain tapirs and endemic hummingbirds hide among the twisted, copper-barked Polylepis trees. Beneath the ground, ancient tectonic shifts and glaciers have cracked the bedrock, channelling water through veins that feed six large rivers, supplying mountain communities, cities and fragile ecosystems – including the Ecuadorian Amazon. That bedrock, however, also holds billions of dollars in gold, silver and copper. For more than three decades, these deposits have made the Cajas a battlefield between Ecuadorians who see large-scale mining as the answer to the country's economic woes and those who see it as an existential threat. Unesco designated the Cajas a biosphere reserve in 2013, but the title offers scant protection. Mining companies now hold more than 100,000 hectares (247,000 acres) of concessions in the Cajas, with more than 15,000 of those hectares in the páramo. Authorities say that the government has given the most important segments of ecosystems protected or national park status. But scientists argue that the zoning is arbitrary. 'What areas are 'protected' is a political decision, not a technical one,' says Juan Carlos Sánchez-Nivicela, a herpetologist and conservation biologist who has been studying Ecuador's high-altitude ecosystems for more than a decade. 'You can't separate these areas. Any damage done to one directly affects the other.' So far, large-scale mining activity in the páramos has been limited to exploration – in part, thanks to local resistance, inside and outside the courtroom. But now, new battle lines are being drawn in the Cajas. On 23 June, the Canadian mining multinational Dundee Precious Metals was granted its environmental licence for exploitation of the Loma Larga project, which sits on the Quimsacocha páramo and surrounds the protected area. 'The company has satisfactorily fulfilled all requirements and prerequisites necessary … which is very difficult and time consuming in my country,' says Patricio Vargas Coronel, president of Cuenca's Chamber of Mining. 'It can now sign the mining contract and begin construction, generating about 1,200 jobs and an investment of $450m (£337m).' Dundee's president and CEO, David Rae, touts the achievement as 'an important milestone for Loma Larga – an attractive future growth opportunity for [Dundee] with significant potential to deliver strong returns for our investors and stakeholders'. Activists and ecologists, however, allege that the mine could cause enormous environmental damage, that the government has failed to properly consult local communities, and that they are subject to intimidation and surveillance for protesting against the mine. Dundee rejects the claims. 'We are being followed,' says Esther Remache, an anti-mining activist, pointing out the white pickup truck trailing behind. 'Oh, they're just looking after us,' replies Federico Guzmán, councillor for Cuenca and another longtime activist, with a wink. The road to Loma Larga is public, and cuts through the Quimsacocha recreation area. Yet, it's lined with private security personnel who peer out from booths guarding the offices and buildings of Dundee Precious Metals. As Guzman parks his vehicle, the pickup behind also stops and a guard exits, using his phone to film the group of activists, almost all of whom are over 60. 'They always follow us when we go up here,' says Remache, who believes this is an intimidation technique. 'They'll openly photograph us … you have to wonder, what are those photos for?' In a letter to the Guardian, Dundee representatives denied these allegations, noting that all Loma Larga security personnel 'have undergone human rights training and behave with full respect'. They said that the project's fence had been frequently vandalised, and guards took action to prevent trespassing, but that Dundee 'regularly welcomes visitors to the project area'. Quimsacocha, a páramo at an altitude between 3,600m and 3,900m, is a vital water source and biodiversity refuge. It's here that Sánchez-Nivicela says he rediscovered a tiny frog thought to be extinct. 'There's something like 20-plus amphibian species in the Cajas: 80 to 90% of these are endemic – but we keep finding more each year,' he says. Scientists warn that mining in Cajas could irreversibly destroy fragile ecosystems and poison the water supply that hundreds of thousands of people depend on. 'Protection is not just a matter of the environment,' says Sandra Barros, a municipal hydrology engineer who evaluated the risks of the Loma Larga project. 'It is a matter of survival.' Several past referendums held in affected communities had rejected mining in local watersheds. In 2023, a provincial court upheld the decision to suspend the Loma Larga project, but also opened the door for Dundee to revive its project if new environmental studies and local consultations showed support. In April, Daniel Noboa, the country's recently re-elected president, extended the Loma Larga concession for another 25 years. In 2024, he attended the world's largest mining conference in Canada to reassure investors that a new era of Ecuadorian mining was dawning. Current gold prices value Loma Larga's estimated deposits at more than $6bn. Ecuador's government also stands to make hundreds of millions from the project. On 23 June, the country's environmental ministry quietly approved the project's environmental licence – the final hurdle for Dundee to begin exploitation. Dundee's environmental impact assessment (EIA) for Loma Larga claimed mining posed only a 'mild risk' to the ecosystem. However, a study by the municipal water and sanitation company (ETAPA) claimed there were dozens of errors and omissions in that assessment. It concluded mining risked serious, potentially irreversible damage to nature, water resources, and public health in the Quimsacocha region. Other studies corroborate the ETAPA's findings. 'Do you think contamination would stop at some arbitrary red line just because [the mining company] says that's where their impact stops? Of course not. Any contamination will end up in the rivers downstream,' says Barros, the ETAPA study's main author. Dundee, however, called the ETAPAreport 'misinformation' and says that it is 'designing and advancing Loma Larga in line with the highest standards for environmental and water management', pointing to the positive results of its EIA, the evaluation and approval of which 'is the sole responsibility of the ministry for the environment, not ETAPA'. The environment ministry did not respond to the Guardian's requests for comment, and on July 24, Noboa eliminated the environment ministry entirely, transferring its responsibilities to fall under the ministry for mining. Ecuador's constitution requires the government to consult local and Indigenous communities before allowing any mining project to begin. Under Noboa, however, allegations of irregularities in this process have become so widespread that UN human rights officials issued a formal warning last year, saying Indigenous groups and local communities were being excluded from consultations, not offered complete information, and arrested for protest or criticism of projects. 'We are concerned that the failure to convene all potentially affected people, together with the lack of full and impartial information regarding the potential negative consequences of these projects have exacerbated social conflict,' the UN experts say. In other parts of Ecuador, the government has responded to protests with force. When communities protested against Canadian mining in Ecuador's north-western cloud forest last year, Noboa sent in the military. Security forces injured at least 36 people, and more than 100 were charged with terrorism or organised crime offences. In May, the ministry of energy and mines (MEM) said authorities had finished consulting local communities on Loma Larga, and reported that they had agreed to let the project proceed to exploitation. Communities had 'access to ample, timely and adequate information' on the vote, MEM said. But community members and activists had a starkly different view of the consultation: of eight interviewed, not one said they knew that it had taken place. They recalled a day in January, when the environment ministry sent 200 police and troops to 'oversee' a vote on the mine outside town. Instead, one said, authorities were forced to cancel the vote. 'People saw the soldiers, the militarised area, the tents and they showed up to protest,' says Nataly Torres, a sociologist and member of the community. In its report, MEM characterises the protest as 'violent incidents … restricting the right of other members of the community to be consulted'. Dundee says it cooperated with all of Ecuador's 'strict and well-defined regulations'. In a statement, the ministry said that communities had been consulted in accordance with the law. The fear of state violence now hangs over environmental defenders in the Cajas region as well, activists say. 'Now, they have bigger, deadlier arms, and they use them to intimidate us,' Remache says. And the stakes are high for biodiversity, water and communities. 'Any disturbance, any change in land use, any extractive activity [in the Cajas] will directly affect species that have nowhere else to go,' Sánchez says. 'We'll lose not only unique species but also the water supplying entire communities,' he adds. And the outcome here may set a precedent for the rest of Ecuador. 'This is the mother of all battles,' says Carlos Castro, a legal professor and opponent of mining in the region. 'If we lose here, the rest will fall like dominoes.' Find more age of extinction coverage here, and follow the biodiversity reporters Phoebe Weston and Patrick Greenfield in the Guardian app for more nature coverage
