Fungi are living below your feet. Roughly 110 quadrillion kilometers of living fungal threads are woven through the world’s soils. Stretched end-to-end they would cover a distance nearly a billion times that from Earth to the sun. Now, scientists have mapped where those networks are, how dense they are, and what threatens them. Last year, researchers published global analyses in Nature about the diversity patterns of underground mycorrhizal fungal communities along with the Underground Atlas to help decision makers visualize where to prioritize conservation. Now, they ask the question: How much fungal infrastructure exists, and where? A new study published in Science by researchers with the Society for the Protection of Underground Networks (SPUN) and collaborators produced the first global maps of arbuscular mycorrhizal (AM) fungal network density and biomass. “There could be up to 10 meters (32 feet) of mycorrhizal network in just a teaspoon of soil,” lead author Justin Stewart of SPUN said in a press statement. Nearly all land plants live in partnership with arbuscular mycorrhizal fungi. The fungi exchange water and nutrients for carbon made from sunlight. These underground networks act as a living circulatory system for the planet, and the new study found they move an estimated 4 billion tons of CO2 equivalent into soils annually, roughly 11% of global human-related emissions. To build the density maps, the team drew on data from more than 16,000 soil cores collected across nine biomes referenced in 322 published studies. They developed machine-learning models to predict network density…This article was originally published on Mongabay

On June 5, Australian authorities announced that they confiscated more than 100,000 live exotic cockroaches from an unnamed commercial breeder in Bathurst, a town in New South Wales (NSW), about 200 kilometers (124 miles) west of Sydney. It was the largest bust of illegal invertebrates ever made in the country. The insects were estimated to be worth about AU$200,000 (about $140,000 at current exchange rates). They included dubia cockroaches (Blaptica dubia), endemic to South America, and Madagascar hissing cockroaches (Gromphadorhina portentosa) found only in the island nation of Madagascar. They were bred to be sold as food for pet reptiles, authorities said. Hissing cockroaches are also sought after as pets since they don’t have wings and can’t fly away. No one has been charged with a crime, according to a statement by an environment agency spokesperson. Australia has strict biosecurity laws, permitting live import of only certain animal species; controls are needed to effectively protect crops, plants and native wildlife. The legally-imported list excludes exotic insects like cockroaches that can become invasive or spread diseases “We’re seeing illegal breeding and trading of exotic cockroaches, and we’re putting pet businesses and pet owners on notice,” a spokesperson from the federal Department of Climate Change, Energy, Environment and Water, the agency responsible for environmental protection, said in a press release. “If you are found to possess, breed or trade exotic cockroaches such as dubia cockroaches and Madagascar hissing cockroaches, they will be seized and you could face penalties under federal law.” Officials…This article was originally published on Mongabay

SEATTLE (AP) — Lawmakers are demanding the National Science Foundation stop dismantling the Ocean Observatories Initiative, a $386 million ocean monitoring network being wound down under President Donald Trump’s administration. House Democrats on two committees call the action illegal. Democratic Sen. Jeff Merkley says he’s drafting legislation to freeze the removal of instruments until a full scientific review is completed. The National Science Foundation directed the removal of most of the system’s instruments from waters off Oregon, Washington, Alaska, North Carolina and Greenland by 2027. Monday’s pushback against the Republican administration’s actions comes as scientists are set to remove instruments from the Pacific and as an El Niño event is predicted to arrive this summer. By Annika Hammerschlag, Associated Press Banner image: In this 2021 image provided by Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, workers walk near buoys used to gather data at Pioneer New England shelf off the coast of Martha’s Vineyard, Mass. Image courtesy of Véronique LaCapra/Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution via Associated Press. This article was originally published on Mongabay

In recent weeks, two outbreaks captured international attention: a hantavirus cluster linked to a cruise ship and an escalating outbreak of Bundibugyo ebolavirus in Central and Eastern Africa. How the world reacted to these outbreaks tells us more about inequity than about epidemiology. The Andes hantavirus outbreak aboard a luxury cruise ship generated extensive evacuation footage and widespread public anxiety. The numbers involved were small, and public health authorities clearly emphasized that the broader risk was very low. Meanwhile, the Bundibugyo virus disease (BVD) outbreak, involving a rapidly increasing number of cases and deaths, spreading across fragile border regions, and unfolding without an approved vaccine, or therapeutics, still struggles to command comparable global urgency despite its coverage in the news. This disparity reflects an uncomfortable and common truth: some outbreaks become global emergencies only when wealthy travelers, tourists, or Western borders appear threatened. Others remain regional tragedies, normalized by poverty, and neglect. However, both outbreaks point to the same deeper reality. These events are not isolated biological accidents, but predictable consequences of the ecological, economic, and political systems we have built. In partnership with local governments across Central Africa, WCS set up an early warning system for Ebola, working with traditional hunters, forest communities, and rangers to raise awareness and promote best practices in zoonotic risk reduction, and to monitor wildlife health through sampling and a carcass monitoring, as in this case where a worker surveys a gorilla. Image courtesy of A. Ondzie / WCS. Global health has largely focused…This article was originally published on Mongabay

“Ah-sigh-ee.” Perhaps you don’t yet know the correct pronunciation of this Amazonian fruit, but chances are high that you’ve already seen its name – açaí – on some menu, especially in cafes and small shops specializing in healthy eating, sold mainly as the primary ingredient in bowls, smoothies, ice creams or juices. In Brazil, about 95% of the production of this small, round and very dark-purple fruit is concentrated in the Amazonian state of Pará. It’s a staple of the local diet, where it’s consumed, blended, with fish, cassava flour and other Amazonian ingredients. But because of its nutritional benefits, being rich in antioxidants and fibers, and having high energy value, açaí’s fame as a “superfood” quickly reached other Brazilian regions and, eventually, other countries. But the increase in fruit production to meet both national and international demand is reducing bird diversity in the floodplain forests of the Amazon. According to a study recently published in the journal Biological Conservation, areas with a higher density of açaí palm trees show a 28% decline in the number of bird species. “Our goal was to understand the consequences of the expansion of açaí cultivation and its various forms of management on birds, with a primary focus on frugivores, those that feed on fruits,” study co-author Raphael de Vasconcelos Nunes, a biologist at the Federal University of Pará, told Mongabay. According to Nunes, floodplain forests are already among the most impacted forest environments in the Amazon. They’re located on riverbanks and undergo constant…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Food packaging ranks among the top plastic pollutants littering the world’s coastlines, a new study confirms. The study, published May 20 in the journal One Earth, analyzed data from 112 nations, including 5,300 shoreline litter surveys, to produce the first global index of macroplastic pollution by usage type. Based on 355 peer-reviewed studies, it found that food and beverage plastics were the most common litter type for 93% of the countries surveyed. Within that category, food packaging, caps and lids, and plastic bottles were the most consistently found items, appearing as the top three across more than half of surveyed countries. This included the world’s five most populous countries: China, India, the United States, Indonesia and Pakistan. Plastic bags and cigarettes followed as the next most prevalent categories. The study’s lead author, Max Richard Kelly of the University of Plymouth in the U.K, said he was not surprised by the volume of food and beverage plastics on beaches but was struck by similarities in the surveyed countries. “Seeing the exact pattern replicated across the vast majority of nations was a stark reminder of the true scale of crisis we are facing,” he told Mongabay in an email. Single-use plastic sachets sold in a village in Komodo National Park, Indonesia. Image by Ashley Yeong for Mongabay. Putting a lid on plastic pollution The study comes during an uncertain time for global plastics governance. The United Nations global plastics treaty talks have stalled repeatedly over whether the agreement should focus more on…This article was originally published on Mongabay

Suriname remains an outlier in the Amazon Basin: more than 90% of the country is still covered by rainforest, making it one of the few nations in the world that remains a net carbon sink. But a wave of development proposals — from large-scale agriculture and Mennonite farming settlements, to mining projects and new carbon market initiatives — have raised questions about how the country will manage its natural wealth. Mongabay journalist Maxwell Radwin examines how these plans could reshape Suriname’s forests by documenting debates over land use plans, and the efforts of  Indigenous and Maroon communities to defend their ancestral territories amid long-standing disputes over land rights.This article was originally published on Mongabay

Legal courtrooms are becoming a new battleground in the fight to save whales. In New Zealand, the proposed Tohorā Oranga Bill could recognize whales as legal persons — building on Pacific Indigenous efforts like He Whakaputanga Moana. This push to obtain legal rights for whales is part of the fast-growing ‘Rights of Nature’ movement. But at the same time, weakened protections under the Endangered Species Act threaten the last 51 Rice whales in the Gulf of Mexico. Join Conservation Entangled host Izzy Sasada as she explores how courtrooms are becoming a new frontier in deciding the fate of whales.This article was originally published on Mongabay

Founder’s Briefs: An occasional series where Mongabay founder Rhett Ayers Butler shares analysis, perspectives and story summaries. For the Karajarri people of Kimberley in northwestern Australia, the coastline, reefs, wetlands, beaches and desert-edge country form one estate, held through law, memory, work and obligation. That relationship now has new recognition, reports Mongabay’s John Cannon. In March, the Karajarri dedicated Karajarri Jurarr Ngurra, Australia’s first Sea Country Indigenous Protected Area. It covers 237,489 hectares (nearly 587,000 acres) of marine and coastal ecosystems, including part of Malumpurr, the Karajarri name for Eighty Mile Beach. The area is rich in life. Flatback turtles (Natator depressus) nest along the shore of Malumpurr. Migratory birds use the wetlands. Sawfish swim through nearby waters. These species are often recorded through science, surveys and management plans. The Karajarri know them through long presence, close observation and responsibility passed across generations. The new protected area builds on three decades of legal and political work. The Karajarri first secured recognition of their land claims. They then established a land-based Indigenous Protected Area and developed a ranger program. Sea Country protection is the next step. It gives formal weight to an existing relationship. Jesse Ala’i, formerly the Land and Sea Country manager for the Karajarri Traditional Lands Association, put it simply: “In order to have healthy Country, you need healthy people.” The reverse is also true. “Healthy people need healthy Country,” he added. Australia’s Indigenous Protected Areas now account for more than half of the country’s progress toward protecting 30%…This article was originally published on Mongabay

NIGRE, Côte d’Ivoire — The village of Nigré in southwestern Côte d’Ivoire sits — like much of this part of West Africa — in a landscape of rice and cassava fields, oil palm plantations and stands of rubber trees that have replaced the forests that once clothed the landscape. Chief Djahi Bertin and his attendants offer a traditional welcome to a group of scientists, conservationists and park rangers in an open-sided building in the chief’s yard. The guests are served slices of radish-red kola nut, together with a teaspoon of ginger-colored spices, and a choice of wine, beer, spirits or soda. Bertin takes a glass of wine, half full, and empties it on the concrete floor. The splash resembles the palm of a hand, fingers splayed out. Both the palm and the digits form a unified whole, he says. “We are of one mind.” Chief Djahi Bertin, left, and his advisers meet with conservationists and scientists at his residence in the village of Nigré to discuss the creation of an ecological corridor linking the nearby Taï National Park, with Grebo National Park just 4 kilometers away in neighboring Liberia. Image by Ryan Truscott for Mongabay. The village is not far from the western edge of Taï Forest. At 5,000 square kilometers (1,930 square miles), it’s the largest intact remnant of Upper Guinean Rainforest, which once stretched east from Liberia, across Côte d’Ivoire and Ghana, to Togo. During a two-day road trip from the commercial hub of Abidjan to Taï, Mongabay…This article was originally published on Mongabay

A Mexican long-tongued bat, featured above, flies into the blooms of an agave plant, a feeding and pollination technique used to reach nectar. The bats (Choeronycteris mexicana) have unusually long tongues to access nectar while their impact spreads pollen grains everywhere to pollinate nearby agave. Peter Hudson, a professor of biology at Penn State University, U.S., photographed the moment in 2019 in Arizona’s Sonoran Desert near the U.S.-Mexico border. The region is a biodiversity hotspot, home to native species including trogons and antelope jackrabbits (Lepus alleni). “These bats just go, like little kids on a sugar rush,” Hudson told Mongabay by phone. “They’re taking in so much of this rich sugar stuff that they’re flying about doing happy laps, as it were, in the sky.” The bats’ long tongues can extend nearly 8 centimeters (3 inches) from their body and are covered in hair-like protusions, papillae, that help it drink nectar from flowers. They primarily feed on agave nectar, cactus flowers, soft fruits and the occasional insect. Hudson used a movement trigger and flash to snap the moment. “It all happens so fast,” he said. “You have to get the bat as it’s coming into the plant and see if you can capture it as it hits the plant.” The agave plant is used to make tequila and mezcal, Mexico’s national spirit. As demand for export has increased, the country has experienced a more than 700% surge in mezcal production in the past decade. The jump in demand for Mexican…This article was originally published on Mongabay

A new book from Indigenous scholar Tyson Yunkaporta of Australia explores how human narratives dictate how modern society governs itself and, crucially, how it exploits or protects the natural world. “It’s a terrible thing to … misrepresent things, make false claims, bear false witness in a way that is bending story, the story that everybody follows,” Yunkaporta told Mongabay’s newscast host Mike DiGirolamo. Yunkaporta is a Deakin University senior research fellow and member of the Apalech clan (Wik) whose traditional lands are located in far north Queensland, Australia.   His book, Right Story, Wrong Story: Adventures in Indigenous Thinking, argues that identifying and correcting “wrong stories” is key to stopping environmental exploitation. A wrong story, according to Yunkaporta, is one that acts as a deceptive “curse” by presenting an illusion as if it were real to justify the exploitation of nature and community well-being through narratives that have no connection to the land. To illustrate the “wrong story” of modern resource exploitation, Yunkaporta told Mongabay the Aboriginal folk tale of Tidalik, a giant frog who hoarded all the world’s water for himself. Yunkaporta compares Tidalik to Wall Street firms and billionaires who gamble on water futures and “park their cash” in housing, exacerbating the affordability crisis while stopping the natural flow of resources. In the legend, the animal kingdom does not “eat” Tidalik; instead, an eel makes him laugh by tying himself in knots, forcing the frog to “vomit all the water back into the land.” “A lot of people…This article was originally published on Mongabay

KRABI, Thailand — Beneath a humid canopy of rubber trees, Sathit Phromraksa pauses to inspect a coagulated ball of rubber in a palm-sized bowl fastened to a trunk. Last night, he and his wife worked their way through the plantation, carefully carving a line in the bark of each tree to stimulate the flow of milky latex. With a total 500 trees to tap in their 1.6-hectare (4-acre) plantation, their work took them from midnight to 3:30 a.m. “I inherited this rubber farm from my father,” says 59-year-old Sathit, a lifelong resident of Namgaan subdistrict in Thailand’s Krabi province. “Back then, my family used a lot of chemicals to control weeds and pests, but now, we follow organic practices.” Sathit is one of roughly 1.7 million smallholders who produce 90% of Thailand’s natural rubber supply across millions of individual plantations, most of them no bigger than his. For many, staying profitable is a constant challenge amid fluctuating market prices, crop diseases and climate change. Now, the EU Deforestation Regulation (EUDR) is poised to add to the pressures facing small-scale producers like Sathit. Under the law, set to take effect in January 2027, only suppliers who can prove their land wasn’t cleared after Dec. 31, 2020, will be allowed to continue selling rubber to EU markets. As the world’s leading natural rubber producer, the economic implications for Thailand are significant. While the bulk of its exports go to China and Malaysia, the value of Thai rubber entering the EU increased by…This article was originally published on Mongabay

On the far north coast of New South Wales, the old rainforest had mostly disappeared. The Big Scrub once covered about 75,000 hectares of rich basalt country, a lowland subtropical forest of figs, vines, palms and fruit doves. By the time modern conservationists took stock of it, little more than one percent remained, divided among small patches on farms, roadsides and reserves. Weeds pressed in from the edges. Cattle and clearing had done the rest. What remained needed legal protection, science, money, landholders, seedlings and years of follow-through. It also needed someone who could make committees matter. Rainforest restoration can sound gentle, a matter of saplings and goodwill. In the Big Scrub it required persistence of a less decorative kind. Private landholders had to be brought in. Government agencies had to be pressed. Botanists, bush regenerators, nursery owners, donors and volunteers had to keep working together after the first enthusiasm had passed. The work was local, technical and repetitive. It suited Tony Parkes. Tony Parkes. Photo by Kim Honan / ABC North Coast He came to it late. Born in Hobart, he grew up close to bush and estuary. Later came science, business management and investment banking. He retired at 56 after a successful career in Sydney, and might have chosen a comfortable retirement. Instead he and his wife Rowena bought land in the Northern Rivers, learned the history of the Big Scrub and began planting rainforest on their own property. A private restoration project became a second public life.…This article was originally published on Mongabay

  Satellite alerts suggest deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon is continuing to fall, putting the country on pace for one of its lowest forest-clearing years in more than a decade. The decline comes as climate scientists warn that a likely strong El Niño could still bring a difficult fire season, even if clear-cutting remains low. New data from Brazil’s National Institute for Space Research, or INPE, show that its DETER alert system detected 370 square kilometers (143 square miles) of deforestation in the Amazon in May. That was down from 960 square kilometers in May 2025, a decline of about 61%. Data from INPE’s DETER and Imazon’s SAD detection systems showing deforestation in the Legal Amazon (“Amazonia”) from Aug 1 to May 31 since 2008. Image by Mongabay Data from INPE’s DETER and Imazon’s SAD detection systems showing deforestation in the Legal Amazon (“Amazonia”). Image by Mongabay May is an important month in the Amazon deforestation calendar. It often marks the transition toward the drier season, when forest clearing and burning tend to increase across parts of the southern and eastern Amazon. Monthly satellite figures can vary because of cloud cover, timing and the way alerts are processed, but the latest data extend a longer downward trend. Over the past 12 months, DETER registered 3,182 square kilometers of deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon. That compares with 4,633 square kilometers during the same period a year earlier. The total is the lowest for any 12-month period in the DETER record dating…This article was originally published on Mongabay

At the mouth of the Carmel River, a teacher set up a spotting scope and let a boy look through it. The birds were the first thing he saw. The habit of looking came next. He saw that the world could be understood, though not quickly, and that its order did not reveal itself to those in a hurry. Later he would say he never recovered from that experience. The remark was light, but also true. A childhood near Monterey, with woods behind the house and the Pacific within walking distance, gave him the subject of his life. Robert “Bob” Ricklefs, who died on June 7th, a day after his 83rd birthday, spent that life asking how living things came to be where they are, and why they lived as they did. He became one of the most influential ecologists of his generation: an ornithologist, biogeographer, theorist, teacher, author and member of the National Academy of Sciences. His textbooks, Ecology and The Economy of Nature, shaped how thousands of students first encountered the field. Their authority came from clarity. He could take a tangled subject and find a usable path through it. Birds were his beginning. As a boy he joined weekend outings with the local Audubon Society and gained the status, modest but real, of a child with a serious interest. At Stanford he briefly followed the spirit of the space age into engineering, then returned to biology. At the University of Pennsylvania he entered the circle of Robert…This article was originally published on Mongabay

When invasive rats are removed from islands, the ecological benefits can ripple across both land and sea more quickly than scientists expected, according to recent research. Scientists have long assumed that meaningful recovery after the predators are eradicated would take decades. However, researchers with the U.S.-based NGO Island Conservation conducted a rat-removal experiment on Ulong Island in Palau, which provides the first experimental evidence that ecosystems can rebound far more quickly than previously expected. Until recently, rats, which are typically nocturnal, were so abundant on Ulong Island that they were regularly seen during the day. They were a nuisance to campers and deadly for wildlife. As opportunistic omnivores, rats readily prey upon seabird eggs and chicks, devastating nesting colonies on tropical islands. As a result, there were “very few nesting seabirds that we would find,” Coral Wolf, the conservation science program manager at Island Conservation, told Mongabay in a video call. To measure the effects of rat eradication, Wolf designed an experiment in which all the rats were removed from Ulong, while the rats on nearby Ngeruktabel Island remained, serving as a control site. Before the eradication, researchers collected baseline biodiversity data. On land, they recorded bird calls and took soil samples. In the surrounding water, they measured indicators like fish biomass and coral cover. One year after rats were removed, the team repeated the survey and found a dramatic improvement in the biodiversity. Freed from rat predation, seabird activity on the island surged. Detections of bridled tern (Onychoprion anaethetus) calls rose by…This article was originally published on Mongabay

The Bornean ferret badger is a small carnivore with the slinky body of a ferret and a face mask like a badger. A new study confirms that it lives only in the mountains of Sabah, a Malaysian state on the island of Borneo.  Ferret badgers are nocturnal carnivores, widespread across Southeast Asia, but the Bornean ferret badger (Melogale everetti) lives only in a narrow mountain range on the island of Borneo. A group of researchers from the Bornean Carnivore Programme, part of the University of Oxford’s Wildlife Conservation Research Unit (WildCRU), Sabah Forestry Department, and Sabah Parks set out to understand the Bornean ferret-badger’s distribution within Sabah. Between 2021 and 2024, the research team set up 188 camera-trap stations across Sabah’s western highlands and recorded the badgers more than 400 times, discovering a new population in the process. The new population in the Nuluhon-Trusmadi Forest Reserve of Malaysian Borneo, expanded the known range of the species, but photo-traps and habitat modeling showed that Bornean ferret badgers are only found within the greater Sabah’s Kinabalu-Crocker-Trusmadi mountain landscape.  “I grew up in Tambunan and had never seen or even heard of the Bornean ferret badger,” said Mohammad Aliyuddin bin Jaini, field manager of the Bornean Carnivore Programme in a press release. “I decided to place some camera traps around my family’s farm simply to see what wildlife might be there, and I was amazed when a Bornean ferret badger appeared in the photographs. To discover that an Endangered species found only in…This article was originally published on Mongabay

On June 6, nine female white rhinos arrived in Mozambique’s Zinave National Park following a two-day translocation. Their arrival marks the culmination of nearly 10 years of rhino reintroduction efforts in the park, aimed at rebuilding a viable breeding population of the mammals in Zinave after decades of local extinction. The white rhinos (Ceratotherium simum) were transferred from the Manketti Game Reserve in South Africa and join another 30 white rhinos and 22 black rhinos (Diceros bicornis) introduced to Zinave since 2022. “[The translocation] went fantastically well,” Antony Alexander, a regional manager for the conservation nonprofit Peace Parks Foundation, which manages Zinave and organized the translocation, told Mongabay by phone. “I’m sure they’re happy to be in the wild again.” Zinave, which covers around 4,090 square kilometers (1,580 square miles) in the southern province of Inhambane, has previously been called a “silent park” after decades of civil war wiped out much of its wildlife. “You could almost sense the very low levels of life with insects and birds and smells and sounds,” said Alexander, describing Zinave before wildlife restoration efforts began. “That’s changed dramatically over the last 10 years.” Among the species reintroduced since 2016 are the critically endangered black rhino and Selous’ zebra (Equus quagga selousi), as well as the endangered African savanna elephant (Loxodonta africana), vulnerable leopard (Panthera pardus) and spotted hyenas (Crocuta crocuta). The rhinos help maintain Zinave’s ecosystem as they are bulk grazers, eating a high volume of grass. This helps prevent fire risk, as overgrown…This article was originally published on Mongabay

VJOSA-NARTA, Albania — In late April, heavy machinery began moving into the Pishë Poro-Narta protected landscape on Albania’s Adriatic coast without permits or public notice. Bulldozers and excavators felled coastal pine trees, flattened sand dunes, and cut new roads through previously untouched habitat. Then, barbed wire fences went up along the shoreline. The incursion was the realization of a luxury resort development backed by Jared Kushner, U.S. President Donald Trump’s son-in-law. The development plans of Kushner’s Affinity Partners, a private equity fund, stretch from the uninhabited Sazan Island into the Vjosa-Narta Protected Landscape, the delta region of Albania’s Vjosa River that includes Pishë Poro-Narta. Roughly twice the size of Paris, the Vjosa-Narta area shelters flamingos, Dalmatian pelicans (Pelecanus crispus), loggerhead sea turtles (Caretta caretta) and more than 70 endangered species, among them the Mediterranean monk seal (Monachus monachus). Neither Affinity Partners nor the office of the prime minister of Albania responded to Mongabay’s requests for comment. Aerial drone video of demonstrators gathering at Dalan Beach on June 6 for a rally near the site of the original resort-construction site. Footage by Stefan Lovgren for Mongabay.   When protesters arrived at the site, security guards confronted them. Video of a demonstrator being dragged across the dunes on May 30 near the village of Zvërnec went viral. Soon demonstrations erupted in Tirana, the Albanian capital, in what has since been dubbed the Flamingo Revolution. The protests have grown larger every day, with tens of thousands demanding accountability for corruption, an end to…This article was originally published on Mongabay