Discrimination still plagues science

Employers need to do more to improve workplace diversity, equity

 and inclusion, a Nature survey finds.

• Chris Woolston

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Illustration by Antonio Rodríguez

Social protest movements such as #MeToo and #BlackInSTEM have shone a light on the need for greater diversity, equity and inclusion at scientific institutions worldwide. And Nature’s 2021 salary and job satisfaction survey, which drew responses from more than 3,200 working scientists around the world, suggests that there’s much more work to do.

Just 40% of respondents felt that their employers were doing enough to promote diversity, down from 51% in 2018, when the survey last took place. A substantial minority of respondents said they had witnessed colleagues being subjected to discriminatory behaviour, and another sizeable minority said they had experienced such treatment themselves. The self-selected survey (see ‘Nature’s salary and job survey’) included a series of questions that explore attitudes and experiences relating to diversity. Follow-up interviews with selected respondents and free-text comments have helped to fill out the picture.

NATURE’S SALARY AND JOB SURVEY

This article is the last of four linked to Nature’s global salary and job satisfaction survey. Previous articles looked at the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on scientists’ careers; at salary and prospects; and at job satisfaction.

The survey runs every three years and was last conducted in 2018. It was created together with Shift Learning, a market-research company based in London, and advertised on nature.com, in Springer Nature digital products and through e-mail campaigns. It was offered in English, Mandarin Chinese, Spanish, French and Portuguese. The full survey data sets are available at go.nature.com/3eqcpk9.

The respondents reflect the relative homogeneity in science in some parts of the world. Eighty-two per cent of respondents in the United Kingdom, 81% in Germany and 74% in the United States identified themselves as white.

The free-text comment section exposed conflicting viewpoints on an often polarizing topic. A late-career Asian woman working in geology and environmental sciences at a European university wrote: “Academics like to think of their community as free spirited and innovative, but there is massive systemic discrimination and power hierarchies that ruin people and careers … This is suffocating science and discouraging early-career academics.”

But a white male professor of social sciences in the United States offered a different perspective: “When I say I have experienced and seen gender discrimination, it has always been against males. For example, we were directly told during a job search that we could not hire a white male, even though our relative representation of women and minorities is higher than average for our field. White males have long felt there is little likelihood of approval for sabbaticals or positive promotion decisions from the dean and upper administration.”

Some people think that the renewed emphasis on diversity and inclusion in science is overblown and unnecessary, says Zenobia Lewis, an evolutionary ecologist at the University of Liverpool, UK. She’s heard men say that gender-equality initiatives in science, such as the Athena Swan Charter, are no longer necessary because women have made gains. The charter, launched in the United Kingdom in 2005, was introduced in Ireland ten years later, with similar schemes now running in the United States, Canada and Australia. “My response is that it’s about equality for all, not just women,” says Lewis, who identifies as part Persian. “I’m a brown person in ecology, and there aren’t many of us.”

Discrimination

The survey suggests that discrimination remains common in science (see ‘Room for improvement’). Overall, 32% of respondents said they had witnessed discrimination against or harassment of colleagues in their current job. That’s up slightly from the 28% who reported observing such behaviour in 2018. Twenty-seven per cent of respondents said they had personally experienced discrimination, bullying or harassment in their present position. Again, that’s up compared with 2018, when 21% said they had such first-hand experiences.

Unsurprisingly, some groups are more likely than others to feel targeted. Women reported experiencing mistreatment more often than men: 34% to 21%. Workers in academia were twice as likely as those in industry to report such behaviour: 30% to 15%. A woman who is now a staff scientist at a US biomedical company wrote of her experience in academia: “I was bullied and harassed repeatedly at my previous job, and literally nothing there has changed or will ever change. My current job is much nicer, but I will never ever work in an academic setting again. A postdoc in the lab kept touching my hair and the university did absolutely nothing to protect me or stop it.”

Overall, 17% of the women — and 1% of the men — in the survey reported being the target of gender discrimination. Sexism remains rampant, says survey respondent Fiona Simpson, a cancer researcher at the University of Queensland in Brisbane, Australia. “Everybody talks about equality in science, but it doesn’t actually happen,” she says. “There are so many articles, so much discussion, but over my 30 years it’s gotten worse.”

Simpson says that sexism was more outward and obvious in her early career, but in her view, the more subtle discrimination of today can be just as damaging. “I’ve watched female academics get upset over the way they’re being treated, or the instability of their roles. When they’re emotional, they’re written off as unstable or hormonal. It’s changed from an overt thing to a type of gaslighting,” she says, referring to manipulative behaviour that makes someone question their own sanity.

How burnout and imposter syndrome blight scientific careers

Ethnicity can be an important factor too, especially in countries where the scientific workforce is predominantly white. In the United Kingdom, for example, 27 of the 54 respondents who did not identify as white said they had personally experienced discrimination, bullying or harassment on the job. That’s nearly twice the rate reported by 357 white respondents in the United Kingdom. In the United States, the 221 respondents who did not identify as white were also more likely than white colleagues to report such experiences: 33% to 25%.

Among those reporting personal experience of mistreatment, the most commonly cited instances fell under the categories of power imbalances (66%) and bullying (51%). The most commonly reported forms of discrimination were related to gender (34%), age (21%) and race (15%).

Age discrimination was a recurring complaint in the comment section. A government employee in South Africa wrote that “job advancement for older people is also now a huge challenge due to pressure to advance young people”. A self-employed US scientist in the field of astronomy and planetary science wrote: “When I lost my previous job as a result of funding cuts, the great majority of people laid off were older than 50, even though that age group did not comprise a majority of employees. Also, I know three people in that age range who were repeatedly rejected for positions, for which they were extremely well qualified, in favour of younger hires. One of them, who has two PhDs, has given up looking and basically retired early.”

Less than 1% of respondents reported experiencing discrimination against people from sexual and gender minorities; that rate is essentially unchanged compared with the 2018 survey. A South African researcher in ecology and evolution wrote: “As a lesbian, I think my job prospects are better than they would have been just ten years ago because of cultural shifts and also legal changes in South Africa regarding employment equity.”

Only 7% of respondents reported a disability, a reflection of a widely acknowledged lack of representation of this community in scientific fields. Disabled people face particular career challenges in science, says Michelle Moram, a London-based materials scientist who is currently working remotely for Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand. In 2010, Moram was diagnosed with a serious autoimmune disorder which would have qualified her for disability protection under the law. Still, she kept the illness hidden for years for fear of jeopardizing her chances of promotion.

Collection: Diversity and scientific careers

A truly diverse research system would employ people from a range of socioeconomic backgrounds, but Lewis says people from poorer families remain at a distinct disadvantage. She co-wrote a paper exploring how socioeconomic background as well ethnicity can affect early-career progression in the fields of ecology and evolution (K. M. Wanelik et al. Ecol. Evol. 10, 6870–6880; 2020). One finding: early-career researchers from less privileged backgrounds tended to have positions with a teaching component rather than ones solely devoted to research; the latter are often more prestigious for career progression.

Moram, the first member of her family to attend university, says she struggled to find her place in science after moving from University College Cork, Ireland, to take up a PhD at the University of Cambridge, UK, in 2003. “My family is what they call ‘underclass’ in the United Kingdom. Part of my journey was learning to pass as a middle-class person. I had to change my accent, learn different vocabulary, wear different clothes — just fake it to be a different person.”

Moram says her background helped motivate her to study especially hard. “I had no idea how anything in the system worked at all. I just decided to work hard at whatever I could,” she says. “It was important for me to get out of home. I was terrified of having to go back home and work in a shop.”

Falling short

A slim majority of survey respondents (51%) felt that their institutions were doing enough to promote gender equity, down from 58% in 2018. Forty-one per cent thought that their place of employment was doing enough to promote ethnic or racial equality, down from 52% in 2018.

It’s not surprising that the number of people who are underwhelmed by their employer’s approach to diversity is growing, says Maria Miriti, a plant ecologist at Ohio State University in Columbus. Miriti wrote a paper (M. N. Miriti BioScience 70, 237–242; 2020) exploring strategies to boost the recruitment and retention of people from minority groups in science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM).

“People’s awareness of the breadth of inequality has become more focused in the pandemic,” she says. “There’s pressure to respond. But really getting into the trenches to change the system to promote greater equality and inclusion is hard.” Miriti says that fundamental changes are needed to improve equity in STEM, starting with rethinking how scientists are evaluated and promoted. “We value ‘grantsmanship’ [the ability to secure grants], publications and citations. All three of those factors can be affected by racial and gender discrimination. [Scientists] act like it’s a level playing field. It’s hard for us to accept that recognition can be tied to gender and race.”

Stagnating salaries present hurdles to career satisfaction

Just over one-quarter of respondents felt that their institutions had increased their focus on diversity in response to social justice movements such as #BlackLivesMatter and #MeToo. The former gained momentum following the murder, in May 2020, of George Floyd, an unarmed Black man, by a police officer in Minneapolis, Minnesota. #MeToo protests accelerated in 2017 in response to sexual-abuse allegations relating to film producer Harvey Weinstein.

Lewis is underwhelmed by institutions’ responses. “There was suddenly this wave of organizations and institutions putting out statements of solidarity,” she says. “It’s about a year on, and I’m still waiting to see how much impact it’s actually going to have, or whether it’s just paying lip service.”

Many universities and companies have established diversity committees to improve the recruitment and retention of members of under-represented groups, but their reach remains limited. Just over 12% of respondents said that they had participated in an institution-wide diversity committee, and 21% weren’t sure if such committees even existed at their place of work. Women were more likely than men to participate in such committees: 14% to 9%.

Miriti thinks that diversity committees can be important drivers for change, especially in academia. “Universities should absolutely have diversity committees,” she says. “There’s too much change that needs to happen if we’re serious about increasing broad participation in our scientific disciplines.” However, she warns that involvement in such committees isn’t always highly valued when it comes to promotion and tenure. Still, she says, the investment in time and energy can pay off by bringing new people to the table. “Women and minorities should be motivated to do this work, no matter what.”

Miriti adds that more people from majority groups — for example, white men in countries such as the United States and the United Kingdom — should participate in diversity committees, but only if they’re willing to invest the time to truly address the issues. “It’s important to avoid what some refer to as ‘performative allyship’,” she says.

Some researchers have given up fighting bias. A biomedical postdoctoral researcher of Iranian descent in Canada wrote: “I’ve actually identified some perks to being discriminated against. For one, I don’t have to deal with the responsibilities that come with a more senior title. As long as I stay productive, I will likely have a job and have more time for research. I can walk away with the knowledge that I earned every penny and at times gave more than I took. There is comfort in that.”

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT DIVERSITY, EQUITY AND INCLUSION IN SCIENCE?

Free-text comments in Nature’s global salary and job satisfaction survey highlight scientists’ thoughts on the issues they have encountered in their careers. Comments have been edited for length and clarity and, when necessary, translated into English.

• I feel there is too much focus on hiring ‘diverse’ candidates, based on easily measurable criteria (gender, race), and not enough focus on diversity of thought and supporting existing employees through challenges such as maternity and disability. Postdoc in biomedical field, UK.

• I have recently felt that being white and middle-aged is an impediment to seeking positions such as associate dean or dean. Professor in social sciences, USA.

• As a white person I am not offered promotional opportunities so am stuck in same job for over 15 years. Staff scientist in government, South Africa.

• Potential employers do not like to hire females due to the possibility that they will have childcare responsibilities, although this is never stated officially. More than half of postdocs in my department are female but at the principal investigator level, 80–90% of them are (white) men. What happens to all those female postdocs? Postdoc in biomedical field, Denmark.

• I’ve never felt like I have white privilege because I’ve struggled so much and overcome extreme hardships to get where I am. But now I’m still overshadowed because I’m not a person whose race or ethnicity is ‘diverse’. Technician in biomedical field, USA.

• The people who didn’t hire diverse staff/faculty before are still in charge, taking credit for being diverse now. But in fact, they aren’t improving anything. They will continue to hire mediocre elites and complement it with some goofy ‘diverse candidates only’ job openings. Some great researchers will leave academia because of this and history will repeat itself. Assistant professor in social sciences, USA.

• Our university has had university-level, college-level and school-level committees to promote Equality, Diversity and Inclusion [EDI] for years now. Although I have been heavily involved at many levels, it has been clear for some time that these have been instituted for the sake of (1) public visibility, and (2) access to research funding (funders have tied funding to EDI initiatives). There is very little real appetite to change what is wrong with the institution. Associate professor in architecture, Ireland.

Nature 600, 177-179 (2021)

doi: https://doi.org/10.1038/d41586-021-03043-y

Glencore’s Australian coal mine revealed as methane super-emitter

Bloomberg News | November 29, 2021

Hail Creek mine is located 120 km southwest of Mackay in central Queensland and supplies international markets with hard coking and thermal coal. 

(Image courtesy of Rio Tinto.)

Just inland of Australia’s east coast, roughly 200 miles from the Great Barrier Reef, a single coal mine run by Glencore Plc emitted so much super-warming methane in a year that it had the same climate warming impact as the annual pollution from more than 4 million U.S. cars.


The Hail Creek coal mine leaked an estimated 230,000 tons of methane a year in 2018 and 2019, according to researchers with SRON Netherlands Institute for Space Research, who analyzed satellite data from the European Space Agency. Because methane traps over 80 times more heat than carbon dioxide in its first two decades in the atmosphere, the mine had the same short-term warming impact as roughly 19 million tons of CO₂ a year.

The report is one of the first efforts by researchers to quantify just how much methane is coming from individual mines in Australia. Coal itself produces the most CO₂ emissions out of all fossil fuels and nearly 200 countries have agreed on the need to reduce its use to avoid the worst effects of climate change. The new study shows that there’s an added danger: disastrous amounts of methane emitted during the mining process.

The Hail Creek mine is among a handful of coal operations in Australia’s Bowen Basin identified by the researchers as super-emitters, including mines run by BHP Group and Anglo American Plc. Hail Creek, which Glencore took over from Rio Tinto Group in August 2018, was the biggest offender. It accounts for 20% of Australia’s methane emissions from coal mining even though it produces just 1% of the nation’s coal output, according to the report, published Monday in the Environmental Science & Technology journal.

The researchers grouped five other mines in the Bowen Basin into two clusters because it was difficult to distinguish their individual contributions due to their close proximity. Broadmeadow, owned jointly by BHP and Mitsubishi Corp., and Anglo’s Moranbah North and Grosvenor mines released 190,000 tons of methane annually in 2018 and 2019, according to the report. Glencore’s Oaky North and Anglo’s Grasstree mines emitted an estimated 150,000 tons of methane a year.

Glencore said its Bowen Basin coal business reports emissions in line with Australia’s requirements. Anglo American said it submits methane emissions annually, by location, to the country’s clean energy regulator and also makes disclosures at a business level in its annual report. A spokesperson for BMA, BHP’s joint-venture with Mitsubishi, said the company publishes emissions from its Australian operations in accordance with the country’s standards.

None of the operators said how much methane comes from the individual mines identified by the Dutch researchers. BHP spokesman Ben Dillaway told Bloomberg in July its Broadmeadow and Goonyella Riverside mines cumulatively emit an average of about 32,000 tons of methane a year.

The new analysis underscores just how big a problem coal is for Australia, which lags other developed nations in tackling climate change. Although it’s extremely vulnerable to the impacts of rising temperatures, Australia was among the last advanced economies to set a target to zero out emissions, has been criticized over the credibility of its plan, and refused to join a global pledge to reduce methane emissions 30% by 2030.

The findings suggest there may be “a large underreporting of methane emissions in the national inventory,” authors including Pankaj Sadavarte and Ilse Aben wrote. They speculated that the outsize releases from Hail Creek could have come from surface mining operations and efforts to drain gas when expanding the facility.

The research underscores the wide range of climate impacts from different mines. According to the International Energy Agency, the world’s dirtiest coal emits as much as 100 times more methane than cleaner operations. Most of the methane reductions from coal should come from a “drastic fall” in its use, the IEA said in an October report, though steps to minimize leaks “need to happen in parallel.”

The Dutch researchers estimated that all six mines spewed a combined 570,000 tons of methane a year over the study period, accounting for roughly 55% of the reported methane emissions from coal mining in Australia — despite only contributing about 7% of the nation’s production.

Australia’s Department of Industry, Science, Energy and Resources said in a March report that it’s “premature to use satellite data to quantify emissions from methane sources.’’ The Dutch scientists used observations from the ESA’s Sentinel-5P satellite to estimate daily methane flux rates from the mines and compared those with emissions from global inventories and figures used in Australia’s reports to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change.

The main caveat with this approach is that the Sentinel-5P “is designed for quantifying methane over large regions rather than precise attribution to individual facilities,” said Riley Duren, chief executive officer of Carbon Mapper. The nonprofit has received funding from Bloomberg Philanthropies.

But Duren said that the findings — that just a handful of mines appear to be responsible for a disproportionate amount of emissions — broadly align with what his team has found studying U.S. coal mines in southwest Pennsylvania using instruments with much higher spatial resolution. Just four underground mines in that region appear to be responsible for 22% of total U.S. methane emissions from underground mines, or about 300,000 tons.

The Dutch research is also similar to another analysis by Kayrros SAS. The French geoanalytics firm found earlier this year that for every ton of coal produced in the Bowen Basin, an average of 7.5 kilograms of methane is released. That was 47% higher than the average global methane intensity estimated by the IEA, according to Kayrros.

Geologically older and deeper coal deposits tend to contain more methane than shallower seams, according to the IEA, which is why emissions from surface mines such as Hail Creek tend to be lower than underground mines. But it’s harder to mitigate leaks from open pit reserves, where emissions are often spread over larger areas and more diffuse.

Ilse Aben, one of the Dutch researchers, said they were surprised by the large methane emissions coming from Hail Creek. “I hope getting attention for this forces people to explain what is happening there,” said Aben. “It requires an explanation.”

(By Aaron Clark, with assistance from Anjali Cordeiro and Jane Pong)

I Mastered Xi Jinping Thought, and I Have the Certificate to Prove It


Classes in Marxism have long been compulsory in Chinese universities, normally welcomed by tired students as an excellent chance to catch up on their rest. But now students and workers alike are suffering a new imposition: the need to study Xi Jinping Thought. The ideas of Xi, China’s most personally powerful leader since Mao Zedong, are increasingly mandatory and have even been enshrined in the country’s ever-changing constitution.

From the outside, Xi Jinping Thought might seem like authoritarian banality mixed with a growing personality cult. That’s why I was so excited to learn this August of a new course offering on the edX website, a U.S.-based learning platform: Xi Jinping Thought on Socialism With Chinese Characteristics for a New Era—the official full name of Xi Jinping Thought. The instructor was none other than the Tsinghua University professor Hu Angang, known for his close links to senior government leaders and his claims that China has already overtaken the United States as the primary global superpower. Who could be better to explain the intricacies of the new era? I determined that I was not only going to take the course—I was going to ace it.

The course’s promotional materials promised that learners would obtain “[s]ystematic and full knowledge of the [Chinese Communist Party]’s people-centered core concept,” as well as a “deeper understanding of the socialist road with Chinese characteristics.” Admittedly, I might not have been the student they had in mind. I’ve spent the past two decades studying Chinese political culture. And at the moment, I am unable to visit mainland China due to my work on self-immolation in Tibet, as well as other writings criticizing Xi’s dictatorial tendencies and comparing him to a knockoff Vladimir Putin. This would be a welcome chance to rectify my thought.

I am well-versed in the bloviations of Mao Zedong Thought and Deng Xiaoping Theory, both of which I studied in graduate courses in Nanjing. I also lived in China during the Jiang Zemin and Hu Jintao eras, gaining—much to the annoyance of my friends who took no interest in these matters—an understanding of their respective philosophical contributions of the “important thought of Three Represents” and the “scientific outlook on development.” My exile has thus left me feeling slightly left out of Beijing’s latest self-congratulatory ideological contortions. On top of learning the new political language in which Beijing now chooses to describe its policies, anyone who paid a $49 fee, as per edX policy, would receive a verified certificate with the instructor’s signature upon completion of the course. That sealed the deal for me.

I paid the fee, uploaded my driver’s license for identity verification by edX, buckled my seat belt, and entered the “new era.” It’s not clear how many other people did the same; on the online discussion board, there were just seven other participants.

If there were ever a university course able to be concisely summarized in a brief article, this would be it. After four hours of watching Hu’s brief, wandering, yet also repetitive video lectures, I can tell you this: Xi Jinping Thought is the greatest invention since sliced bread.

The course itself is divided into six sections, each on a supposedly distinct yet also interrelated (and generally awkwardly subtitled) form of development derived from Xi Jinping Thought: people-centered development, innovation development, green development, coordination development, opening-up development, and sharing development.

Learners begin from people-centered development, as it is, according to Hu, the core of Communist Party governance. Novice learners may be puzzled as to how Hu imagines Western societies are structured when he states, “It’s fair to say that China is a society different from the Western society. It mainly established a people’s society.” More advanced learners, however, will know that for a government to truly represent the will of the people, it needs to use the word “people” anywhere and everywhere.

So, Hu reminds us that the Chinese republic is the people’s republic, the national bank is the people’s bank, the police are the people’s police, and the army is the people’s army. But wait, there’s more. Hu proudly reports that Xi used the term “people” 203 times in his report to the 19th Party Congress in 2017—more than any other term. This is, of course, equivalent to arguing that America is “huge” simply because the current president uses the word frequently. But as if to quell any doubts, the number 203 flashes triumphantly across students’ screens.

People-centered development is the core of Communist Party practice, according to Hu, from which it has never wavered. At the same time, it is also the only solution to contradictions that have emerged in the process of development, which has always been people-centered but perhaps just not people-centered enough until Xi arrived. Searching for logic in this is missing the point; this is about ideological fealty, not argument. Hu, five decades after the Cultural Revolution, confidently declares via edX to the people of the world that Xi’s people-centered thought is a “spiritual atomic bomb,” mimicking his comrade in arms (and later condemned traitor) Lin Biao’s famous assessment of Mao Zedong Thought.

The course proceeds through its themes, never wavering in its enthusiasm for the new era: Great new innovations are happening, green development is being realized, development is better coordinated between regions, and China will continue opening and will share the fruits of its development with the world in a way different from the superpowers of the past. I have heard and read much of this before; there are some people who can still come off as intellectually sharp even when engaging in such konghua, or “empty talk.” There can be a certain art to this type of ideological showmanship. Sadly, this is not the case for Hu, whose boisterous gestures reflected the glossy confidence of Xi Jinping Thought while his blank stare embodied its substance.

U.S. Commerce Secretary Wilbur Ross and other Trump administration officials sit down with Chinese vice ministers and senior officials for trade negotiations at the Eisenhower Executive Office Building in Washington on Jan. 30, 2019.

Wilbur Ross Remained on Chinese Joint Venture Board While Running U.S.-China Trade War

Chinese documents show that the U.S. commerce secretary did not successfully step down from all his corporate commitments.

Setting aside for a moment the ideological acrobatics, my glimpse into the new era suggests that its real essence is disorganization.Setting aside for a moment the ideological acrobatics, my glimpse into the new era suggests that its real essence is disorganization. Originally advertised in English, for a number of weeks only one out of six sections of the lectures, delivered in Mandarin, had English language subtitles. Gradually, subtitles for all videos were provided, although some translated transcripts remain incomplete, while others are nearly incomprehensible.

For example, in section three on “green development,” students are told that “in the whole picture of China’s modernity, ecological civilization becomes important from an unimportant position, turns into a priority from a trivia, and changes from aimless to ambitious.” Moments like this left me yearning for the relative clarity of Martin Heidegger.

Once all of the transcripts were provided, a final issue remained—as of Oct. 12, two weeks before the end of the class, no homework had been posted. Having paid my $49 fee, I faced the possibility of not receiving a certificate solely because the relevant authorities had not posted any assignments. After posting questions about this conundrum on the discussion board with no responses, I wrote a brief email to edX support last week explaining the situation. They reassured me that they would be in touch with the conveners and this issue would be corrected.

Within a few days, 34 multiple choice questions were posted, addressing the course’s six sections. Based on my notes and a few Google searches on topics that the quiz setter had included but that hadn’t been addressed in lectures, I was able to receive a final score of 100 across all the multiple choice quizzes. A new notification appeared on my edX sign-in page: My PDF certificate was now available.

I was now a certified master of Xi Jinping Thought.

In essence, Xi Jinping Thought is not all that different from his predecessors’. People, development, reform, ecological civilization, innovation, opening—anyone who has spent any time in Beijing in the last 40 years will consider these terms all too familiar terrain. But the unwavering emphasis on Xi Jinping Thought as fundamentally new is different, and the greatest takeaway from the class was in fact the state of political and intellectual life in China today under Xi’s leadership.

The Chinese government claims to be building “world-class universities.” It has designated 42 universities as qualified to develop to “world-class” level by 2049, the 100th anniversary of the Communist takeover. Tsinghua University, the content provider for this particular course, is regarded as one of the leading academic institutions in China today, ranked 22nd in the World University Rankings.

But at the same time, China is clearly dedicated to enforcing an ever greater degree of ideological purity in higher education. Several universities have in recent years established institutes for research on Xi Jinping Thought. Researchers seeking funds must include slavish praise of Xi in their bids, and money flows, even in relatively free Hong Kong, to anything related to Xi’s pet project, the Belt and Road Initiative. Even the smallest deviation from the Xi line means exclusion or persecution: Just last week, Zhao Siyun of Zhejiang University of Media and Communications received an official reprimand for a speech advocating the ideal of the “public intellectual” who comments on national affairs. Such matters, I assume, are now the sole purview of Xi himself.

There is a fundamental incompatibility between these two goals: One cannot simultaneously have world-class universities and rigid ideological servitude. Nowhere is this contradiction more glaring than in this course on Xi Jinping Thought, which gives a global community of learners an unprecedented opportunity to observe the poverty of China’s state-enforced ideology. It comes across as a cash-rich North Korea. Yet some committee decided that this particular course would be an appropriate way to introduce Tsinghua’s “world-class” education to the world. Perhaps, most likely, once the idea of offering such a course on a global platform was raised, no one at Tsinghua had the courage to raise any questions or doubts.

Nor, of course, did edX see any problem with this. Assuming that edX has quality controls, someone there also greenlighted this empty paean to a dictator who has overseen the arrest of hundreds of human rights lawyers, the destruction of civil society, and the arbitrary and indefinite detention of more than a million Muslims in internment camps.

These dangers, in the end, are the real lessons of Xi Jinping Thought—a subject in which, I remind you, I have a verified certificate.

Kevin Carrico is a lecturer in Chinese studies at Macquarie University, the translator of Tibet on Fire, and the author of The Great Han: Race, Nationalism, and Tradition in China Today.

How to Make a Carbon Club Work
The Canadian system is a promising—and politically palatable—prototype for other large emitters.

By Marisa Coulton, a freelance international affairs reporter based in Montreal.

Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau presents his national statement as part of the World Leaders’ Summit at the U.N. climate change conference in Glasgow, Scotland, on Nov. 1. 

IAN FORSYTH/POOL/AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES

ARGUMENT
An expert's point of view on a current event.

NOVEMBER 29, 2021


The United Nations climate change conference in Glasgow, Scotland—known as COP26—closed on Nov. 13 with a new climate agreement: the Glasgow Climate Pact. The pact reaffirms the global community’s commitment to limiting warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius and includes commitments to reduce methane, end deforestation, and support the countries most impacted by climate change.

But like most international agreements, the pact lacks an enforcement mechanism. States are strongly encouraged to reduce emissions, but they can’t be forced to do so, and if they fall short of targets, there will be few repercussions—if any. As a result, some experts are putting their money on economic rather than political solutions to the climate crisis.

One of them is “club theory,” popularized by Nobel Prize-winning economist William Nordhaus in 2015. The “club” is a group of countries wherein members adhere to a common carbon tax or “price on pollution.” Nonmember countries are subjected to a 3 percent tariff on products they sell to members, incentivizing them to join. To date, more than 3,600 economists have signed a statement saying carbon taxes are the most “cost-effective lever to reduce carbon emissions.”

The idea has come up several times this year in political and academic circles alike. In May, German Finance Minister and likely next chancellor Olaf Scholz said he wanted the European Union to create a “climate club” with countries like the United States and Japan, setting common carbon standards to avoid trade friction.

But the question of who should be included in the club has long been a point of contention. The Nordhaus model advocates a club any country can join, but critics say this asks too much of developing nations, which won’t be able to afford the prohibitively high carbon price set by wealthy countries.

A new proposal seeks to address this issue. In June, experts at the International Monetary Fund (IMF) proposed an International Carbon Price Floor Among Large Emitters, a club they believe innovates on the Nordhaus model. The new plan focuses on a core group of large emitters and suggests adopting a minimum carbon price floor with flexibility for developing countries.

“India’s not going to join if they’re expected to impose the same carbon price as the EU,” Ian Parry, environmental policy expert and co-author of the report, told Foreign Policy. “It’s reasonable that developed countries would be subject to higher price requirements.”


Canada has emerged as an early champion of the IMF’s revised club theory. At COP26, Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau advocated for a “shared minimum standard for pricing pollution.”

The country has adopted a model that could be replicated in other major fuel-exporting countries should the IMF plan gain traction globally. “Canada is ahead of most other jurisdictions in terms of carbon pricing,” Parry said. “There is a lot to commend in what they’re doing.”

Nordhaus agrees. In a podcast by the Financial Post, he said “Canada has really moved to the forefront of carbon pricing with its tax and rebate plan. … This is the plan that’s got both environmental effectiveness and the political glue needed to hold it together.”

It may strike some as unusual that Canada, the world’s fourth largest oil producer, has emerged as a leader in carbon pricing. The issue remains contentious among some political and industry leaders, but Canada’s system has stood firm thanks to continuous Liberal Party governance, strong federal regulations, and low consumer costs. To date, Canada is the only country with a major fossil fuel industry to successfully adopt a nationwide carbon pricing plan.

The Canadian system would be a promising prototype for other large emitters that could adopt similar models domestically. First implemented in 2019, the carbon price when converted from Canadian to U.S. dollars is currently set at about $32 per metric ton and will increase to almost $40 per metric ton in 2022. From there, it will increase by around $12 every year until it reaches $134 per metric ton by 2030.

Canada is the only country with a major fossil fuel industry to successfully adopt a nationwide carbon pricing plan.

The Canadian plan also has high emissions coverage, which refers to the share of household and industry emissions subject to the carbon price. In Canada, this stands at 78 percent, according to an independent expert review.

To support the decarbonization process, Canada has committed $11.8 billion in investments in renewable energy, grid modernization, and incentives for zero-emission vehicles. Taken together, these steps are set to cut the country’s emissions by a third by 2030. The Toronto-based think tank Clean Prosperity said Canada has a reasonable chance of meeting its current goal of a 40 to 45 percent emissions reduction by 2030 if the government’s plans are implemented in full.

When asked about the Canadian strategy, Nobel Prize-winning economist Joseph Stiglitz told Foreign Policy: “It seems to be the kind of approach that I’ve advocated. You use multiple instruments: regulations, price incentives, investments, and quantity constraints, with a lot of flexibility for different provinces to adapt the system to their own circumstances.”

Four key elements set Canada’s plan apart: provincial flexibility, tax rebates to households, predictable increases, and measures to protect industry competitiveness.

The carbon price is federally mandated, but provinces have flexibility in how they choose to meet it. In fact, they’ve been encouraged to create their own carbon pricing systems in line with their unique priorities: Provinces like Québec use emissions trading systems while others, such as British Columbia, have carbon taxes. If a province chooses not to implement its own system or presents a plan that doesn’t meet the minimum, the default carbon pricing plan, known as the “federal carbon backstop,” kicks in—an almost $32 per metric ton carbon tax and an emissions cap for large industrial emitters called the Output-Based Pricing System (OBPS).

In addition, 90 percent of revenues from the Canadian carbon tax rebate back to households through direct payments after they file their annual tax returns, which means individuals end up receiving more in rebates than they would lose through the tax. “That helps to address concerns about burdens on households and build public support for the program,” Parry said.

Tom Green, a senior climate policy advisor with the David Suzuki Foundation, an environmental nonprofit, said the predictability and stability of Canada’s plan enables people to better plan for the future. Knowing they will pay more in taxes if they continue to rely on carbon-heavy technologies means they will pivot to greener alternatives. “If I have to replace my furnace and I see the price going to [CA]$170, I might as well put in a heat pump and avoid that altogether,” Green said.

A key concern about carbon pricing is it could make domestic industries less competitive compared to international firms not subject to a price. The OBPS helps mitigate this risk. Those who bypass its limit must pay for their excess emissions. Critics have said this is too lax on industry.

So in the fall of 2020, Canada announced its intention to explore border carbon adjustments (BCAs), which are tariffs on carbon-heavy imports. In countries with a carbon pricing system, BCAs are widely seen as the most effective method to preserve competitiveness of domestic industries.


Canada’s road to carbon pricing has not been easy. During the 2015 election campaign, Liberal Party leader Justin Trudeau promised to implement a carbon pricing plan, which he introduced in 2016 after becoming prime minister. In the 2019 Alberta general elections, the United Conservative Party under party leader Jason Kenney campaigned on eliminating the provincial carbon tax—and then did so. Ontario did the same. Once Progressive Conservative Premier Doug Ford came to power, he pulled out of the Québec-California cap-and-trade program that Ontario had been a part of.

Amid all of this instability, the federal carbon backstop held firm, and in April 2019, the federal Liberal Party government instituted a carbon tax in four provinces—Ontario, Manitoba, New Brunswick, and Saskatchewan—where governments had opposed the policy.

The dispute came to a head in March. Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Ontario challenged the tax in Canada’s Supreme Court, arguing it represented an unconstitutional intrusion on the rights of provinces. They lost. Emissions caused harm beyond provincial borders, the court said, and a carbon price was in the best interests of Canada as a whole. Kenney said his government was “obviously disappointed” with the decision, since the plan would increase costs for Albertans and inhibit oil companies’ ability to compete. He vowed to “continue to fight to defend our exclusive provincial power to regulate our resource industries.”

Provincially, rhetoric on carbon pricing is in constant flux, simultaneously hailed and hated by politicians. But no matter how much they push back, provinces are held accountable by the federal carbon backstop—which allows for consistency nationwide. And carbon pricing now enjoys bipartisan support: If elected on a federal level, Conservatives plan to tweak the current plan but will not get rid of it entirely.


READ MORE


The Myth of a Green Canada
Is Trudeau too tied to oil and gas to put Canada on a progressive environmentalist course?
ARGUMENT | TAYLOR C. NOAKES


Alberta’s Petrostate Propaganda Has Turned Conspiratorial
The pro-oil movement is increasingly straying into conspiracy theory.
ARGUMENT | JUSTIN LING

Canada’s experience offers valuable lessons for other large emitters, such as the United States and Australia, on how to implement a carbon pricing system in face of domestic pushback.

Australia, one of the world’s largest energy exporters and consumers, introduced a carbon price as part of its 2011 Clean Energy Act. The measure was unpopular among Australians and increased living costs for households by about $7.12 per week. And roughly 50 percent of tax revenue rebated back to households, compared to 90 percent in Canada.

The act raised prices for businesses too, causing factory closures and job losses. (One CEO reported having to pay $5.8 million a year for the carbon tax.) Unlike the Canadian plan, Australia’s plan did not offer stability and federal consistency, as it was based around a three-year carbon price that would then transition into an emissions trading system. It was repealed in 2014.

Australian Prime Minister Scott Morrison recently released a plan to get Australia to net-zero carbon emissions by 2050. The road map does not include carbon pricing. In fact, it reads, “we won’t introduce a carbon tax that drives Australian jobs overseas and punishes the most vulnerable in our community through higher prices for electricity and other essentials.”

Closer to home, the United States is also struggling to take meaningful action on climate. The country shares Canada’s status as a federated state and major fuel exporter, but carbon pricing has yet to take root.

Over the past few years, the U.S. Congress has considered several bills that would put a price on carbon. Cap-and-trade has caught on as a regional policy, with several states—such as California, New York, and Massachusetts—forming a coalition. But resistance to carbon pricing remains high; there are concerns about an increase in energy prices and subsequent rise in costs for low- and middle-class Americans, as in Australia. Consequently, U.S. President Joe Biden’s climate pitch at COP26 stressed clean technologies but made no mention of carbon pricing.

Stiglitz told Foreign Policy that “the cooperation of the United States is absolutely pivotal” in global climate action. In the long run, he said carbon pricing will actually improve economic activity, spurring innovation by forcing a shift from fossil fuels to renewable energy. Here, cross-border cooperation on carbon pricing through a modified climate club—perhaps of the IMF’s mold—is imperative. The world’s largest emitters, including the United States, could convene to negotiate a common minimum carbon price and implement effective domestic plans in line with the Canadian model. Lower-income nations could also join but would be subject to a different minimum price—one that is appropriate for their stage of development.

Alternative pathways to carbon neutrality do exist: Some experts propose we trap emissions and bury them underground while others suggest sucking the carbon directly out of the sky. The most radical solution by far, however, is inaction.

Marisa Coulton is a freelance international affairs reporter based in Montreal. She holds a Master of Journalism and Master of International Affairs from Columbia University. Twitter: @marisacoulton

UK FARMING

Opinion: Carbon credit cards stacked in favor of homeowners

As world leaders, private jets and aviation fuel smog disappear into the skies over Glasgow, we reflect on COP26. Was it a cop out there, a fair cop or a copulate?

There was a lot to applaud, but the confusing “phase-down” messages made it difficult to decide which Amazon villain was the target of the reduction.

Was it extreme capitalist behavior, like Jeff Bezos soaring into space, or “catch-up capitalism,” like Brazilian President Jair Bolsanaro destroying “his” rainforest?


As a proponent of conservation agriculture, COP26 left “my” arable sector largely alone.

This is not the case for those who raise beef and lamb. You have every reason to be extremely upset and to feel poorly represented by participants, journalists and the media in general.

Basically, COP26 threw Brazilian feedlot-raised beef and pasture-fed British cattle into the same “blah, blah, blah” basket.

See also: How tenants could benefit from natural capital initiatives

But despite all the talk, the global temperature reduction promises start with all of us doing our part. I’m not going to switch my Land Cruiser to a Tesla yet, but we’re looking to reduce fertilizer use by 20%.

So what about our production methods? Will a carbon footprint encourage change?

It is much easier for me on grade 3 clay with flints to switch to a conservation approach of no-till farming, cattle grazing and cover crops, and being rewarded with credits of carbon than it would be for a farmer in Fenland who grows root vegetables or leeks. .

I was led to believe that the carbon market was full of sellers of snake oil, and setting standards was “like trying to nail something to jelly.”

But, despite all my skepticism, I found the audit process straightforward and the credits not too difficult to claim.

However, all of my research into the pitfalls, exit clauses and warnings made me reflect on how the results of COP26 and carbon may influence the future of much of UK farmland, but can -be not the way you might think.

While Brewdog can turn the Scottish Highlands into a carbon offset forest, planting trees is not the only solution.

Arable land and meadows are finally recognized as a future carbon credit klondike. For owner-occupiers, it’s simple, but for sharecroppers like me, there’s an added complexity

Arable land and meadows are finally recognized as a future carbon credit klondike.

For owner-occupiers, it’s simple, but for sharecroppers like me, there’s an added complexity.

Entering land into a program to create a high-quality carbon credit may require permission from the owner.

But what if the owner decides that in order for the tenant to meet the carbon offset values ​​of their estate, they must cultivate in a way that captures the credits?

No soil inversion and a cover crop requirement could be imposed.

The credit value could be fractionated, but it is conceivable that how we farm becomes the owner’s choice.

On a more positive note, carbon credits could spell the end of short-term leases for farm businesses, with the owner requiring longer-term leases to benefit from 10-year carbon programs.

With the disappearance of the basic payment scheme, a potential income of two or three credits per hectare worth $ 29-33 per credit cannot be overlooked.

Indeed, software mogul Bill Gates claims the true value of carbon is closer to $ 200 / t. I might be able to afford the Tesla after all.

About the Author

Ian pigott
Farmers Weekly Opinion Writer
Ian Pigott operates 700 ha in Hertfordshire. The farm is a demonstration unit of the Environment and Agriculture Liaison. Ian is also the founder of Open Farm Sunday.

How tenants could benefit from natural capital initiatives

Tenancy agreements mostly rule out long-term environmental schemes such as tree planting and rewilding.

However, generating an income from carbon offsetting and sequestration, nutrient neutrality units, biodiversity and third-party access is possible in some cases.

Although there are restrictions on how tenants can capitalise on the natural capital assets on their farms, Philip Meade, director at Davis Meade Property Consultants, said there is a widely held misconception that environmental initiatives are based on long-term agreements that rule out tenant farmers.

“This is not necessarily true, especially if you have a good landlord/tenant relationship that you are prepared to work on. But even if you have a fractious relationship, there are still opportunities to be had,” he said.

See also: Natural capital on farms – what it is and how to value it

“There are things you have to be careful of with tenanted farms, but it doesn’t mean that all natural capital opportunities must be completely written off.”

What natural capital opportunities exist for tenants?

Carbon offsetting schemes can be as simple as changing a crop grown – for example, switching from growing winter wheat to spring oats can significantly reduce a farm’s carbon footprint in a year, Mr Meade explained.

“Spring oats are not as profitable as winter wheat in many senses, but if there is a local business that is prepared to pay a farmer to grow them and take credit for that carbon offset then there is an opportunity for a relatively short-term contract that a tenant might sign up to.”

A voluntary carbon market for individuals is also gaining traction.

“The Greta Thunberg generation, who are very conscious about their carbon footprint, are more likely to pay to offset their carbon – for example, someone who wants to fly to New York for the weekend but feels guilty, might pay a farmer or landowner for carbon offsetting to offset their conscience,” said Mr Meade.

This could take the form of paying a farmer to grow different crops or minimising tillage operations.

Another possibility is nutrient neutrality – landowners and farmers in certain catchment areas can be paid to reduce nitrogen and phosphate run-off into a river to offset any increase caused by development.

What terms do I need to be aware of in my tenancy agreement?

The tenancy agreement will stipulate what is permissible and should be the first port of call when considering a natural capital opportunity.

Look for the term “user clause” in an Agricultural Holdings Act (AHA) tenancy or a farm business tenancy (FBT); this typically states that the farm can only be used for agricultural purposes.

“The growing of trees, with a few minor exceptions, is probably not going to be allowed and neither is turning the whole of the farm over to rewilding,” said Mr Meade.

But growing crops will usually meet that requirement, although modern tenancies often state that a crop must not have a cycle of longer than 12 months.

The “alienation clause” is another one that will apply in this situation.

Mr Meade gave an example of how this might apply, citing an actual agreement in which a GP surgery had paid a farmer to convert a block of woodland into an area for reflection for its patients.

“This wouldn’t necessarily breach the alienation clause of ‘part with possession of’ which covers subletting,” he said.

However, it might be in breach of the user clause, although Mr Meade emphasised that it is always worth tenants having the discussion with their landlord.

The rules of good husbandry are often written into farm tenancies and require tenants to undertake good husbandry as set out in the 1947 Agriculture Act.

Rewilding, in which nature is allowed to take back large areas of your farm, would not be compliant with good husbandry and so would risk breaching a tenancy agreement. 

Mr Meade said farmers should seek advice if they are unsure of how to interpret these terms.

Do I need to involve my landlord?

Engaging and involving the landlord is always preferable to working against them, especially as buyers of natural capital assets will want a long-term commitment that a tenant often cannot give.

“If you are constantly looking over your shoulder and worrying that you are in breach of a tenancy agreement and your landlord is looking for ways to catch you out and serve you with a notice to remedy or notice to quit, then it is going to be very hard to get any natural capital investor interested in partnering up with you as a tenant, so engage and involve your landlord, if possible.”

If not, there are still opportunities, but they may be more limited, he added.

Can a scheme result in a rent rise?

Mr Meade said it is reasonable for landlords to expect a return on capital, usually in the form of an additional rent payment, if they are prepared to work with their tenants on projects and provide capital expenditure.

However, if a tenant is paying for the investment and doing the work to get the natural capital opportunity in place to replace what is being lost under the Basic Payment Scheme (BPS), then it will be harder to justify an increase.

Under the terms of an AHA tenancy, the question will be “has the productive and related earning capacity of the farm increased?”. These are definitions in the 1986 AHA Act that are key to any rent review.

“If the BPS has gone down by 50% and you are just replacing that with an opportunity to partner up with your local doctor’s surgery, then if the overall productive and related earning capacity of the farm has not really changed, then just because you are making a bit of money in a different way, is that an excuse to put the rent up? I think the answer is generally no,” said Mr Meade.

“There is little reason to expect significant rent increases unless the landlord is making a significant contribution as well.”

Can my succession rights be at risk?

Applicants for succession under an AHA must have earned their income from agricultural work on the holding; if the farm becomes hugely diversified and there is little agriculture involved, that could jeopardise a succession application, unless agreement is reached in advance with the landlord.

Document what is agreed

The advice in this article covers tenancies in England and Wales.

Where an activity is prohibited by the terms of a tenancy agreement, the documentation to vary it must be in the form of a licence from the landlord.

Where there is no absolute prohibition, then a letter from the landlord to give permission for an activity or change will normally suffice, says Philip Meade. In either case, professional advice should be taken, he warns.

Toyota Is Offering Royalty-Free Patents for Hydrogen Fuel Cell Technology to Other Auto Manufacturers

Because it's not about competition, it's about saving the environment.

IT'S ABOUT SAVING THE INTERNAL COMBUSTION ENGINE

Many auto manufacturers have turned to electric vehicles to limit carbon emissions, but these Toyotas aren't ready to give up their combustion engines.

According to the president of Toyota Motors, Akio Toyoda, there should be options besides fossil fuels and electric vehicles.

"On top of that, the enemy is carbon, not internal combustion engines," he said. "We shouldn't just focus on one option."

"Based on various technologies that we have already used so far, I think there might be a way to make use of internal combustion engines for carbon neutrality and even develop it.

During the COP 26 UN climate change summit, six major carmakers — including General Motors and Mercedes Benz — pledged to eliminate the use of fossil fuels in cars by 2040.

While Toyota plans to have 15 EV models available by 2025, they didn't join that group.

Instead, the Japanese automaker is experimenting with hydrogen-powered vehicles.

Here's how it works and why it's good for the environment: The chemical reaction between hydrogen fuel mixing with oxygen in the air creates enough energy to move the car. The only byproduct is water, which comes out the back of the vehicle.

But hydrogen-filling stations are rare, and not many other auto manufacturers have gotten in on the hydrogen fuel combustion engine.

Toyota holds over 5,000 patents on hydrogen fuel cell technology and is offering them to other auto manufacturers royalty-free, just to encourage more use of this alternative fuel.

Because it's not about competition, it's about saving the environment.