Deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon has fallen to the lowest level on record. Data released today by Brazil’s national space research institute, INPE, shows that forest clearing in Earth’s largest rainforest over the 12 months ended July 31, 2026, amounted to 3,335 square kilometers (1,288 square miles), an area smaller than the Spanish island of Mallorca. That is 42% below the previous year’s figure. INPE PRODES data for 1988-2026. Deforestation in the Cerrado, the wooded savanna next to the Amazon rainforest, fell 24% to 5,516 sq km, also the lowest tally on record. The Cerrado has been the fastest-deforested biome in Brazil in recent decades, as vast areas have been converted to ranchland and industrial agriculture. The reduction has accelerated since President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva took office in 2023. Lula restored environmental law enforcement, expanded conservation programs, and resumed efforts to establish protected areas and recognize Indigenous territories. He faces a tough re-election bid later this month, raising concerns about whether recent progress in reducing Amazon forest loss will continue. Seven of the nine governors of Amazon states are allied with Flávio Bolsonaro, the frontrunner, who has campaigned on reducing protections for the Amazon. Beyond the political dynamics, the near-term outlook for the Amazon is challenged by the super El Niño brewing in the Pacific. El Niño events are associated with drought in the southern Amazon, and fires typically increase in the year after a strong event. INPE PRODES data for 1988-2026. Deforestation in the Amazon now amounts…This article was originally published on Mongabay
In recent years, there has been a steady stream of ocean conservation pledges, from French Polynesia extending marine protection across its nearly 5 million-square-kilometer exclusive economic zone, including more than 1 million square kilometers of highly or fully protected waters, to the Eastern Tropical Pacific Marine Corridor (CMAR), where Colombia, Costa Rica, Ecuador, and Panama agreed to establish a contiguous, transboundary safe passage of more than 500,000 square kilometers (193,000 square miles) for migratory species. There is also much greater recognition of the contributions made by traditional stewards, including Indigenous communities, artisanal fishers, and other coastal communities. On paper, at least, this would seem to bode well for progress toward protecting 30% of the ocean by 2030. Yet at the same time that these announcements are being made, we also hear about “paper parks” — those protected in name only — industrial fishing vessels entering protected areas, boats turning off their transponders, and abandoned fishing gear drifting through supposedly protected waters. Coral reef in the Pacific. Photo by Rhett Ayers Butler / Mongabay Over the summer, looking across academic literature and Mongabay’s multilingual coverage, I tried to pin down what the evidence actually shows about marine conservation outcomes in the Americas. Merging peer-reviewed datasets with field reporting has its limitations, but it helps bridge a common divide: studies document broader ecological trends, while journalists track the political compromises and enforcement lapses that shape what happens on the water. Unsurprisingly, the central takeaway is that marine conservation is most likely to…This article was originally published on Mongabay