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The recent unexpected announcement of significant cuts to fundamental climate science research in Australia has provoked responses both nationally and internationally.
Although the announcement was made a fortnight ago in an email from the CEO of the Commonwealth Science and Industrial Research Organisation (CSIRO), the full ramifications of the announcement are currently difficult to quantify. CSIRO hasn’t yet publicly stated which parts of its climate science programs will be cut, and which staff will either leave the organisation or be redeployed.
In the policy vacuum that naturally followed the announcement, apparently made without whole-of-government consultation, the door is open for all manner of special pleading. It’s important in this context to consider the national interest ramifications of CSIRO’s announcement and, from that perspective, develop a considered, coordinated national response.
Measuring the drivers of the climate over long time scales is essential to understanding the path and trajectory of climate change. Australia’s national efforts in those areas are recognised internationally. Australian climate scientists, in CSIRO and elsewhere, have been influential in shaping international understanding of the global climate and providing the building blocks of national and international responses to climate change. It’s one of the few areas in international science where Australia can genuinely claim to ‘punch above our weight’.
Australia’s Chief Scientist, Dr Alan Finkel, has pointed out the importance of ‘measuring and modelling’ our region’s climate:
‘Our most immediate national concern must be to ensure that long-term data collections will be funded and staffed… The climate modelling capabilities developed by the CSIRO (must) continue to be made available for scientists to use and refine.’
CSIRO’s contribution to Australia’s national efforts in climate modelling appears slated for closure. The development of the ACCESS climate model for understanding the Australian climate relies on a joint partnership between the CSIRO and the Bureau of Meteorology (BoM) through the Collaboration for Australian Weather and Climate Research. ACCESS is the only climate model developed specifically for the southern hemisphere and has greatly improved the capabilities of our national weather bureau: ACCESS has provided ‘a significant improvement in accuracy over the Bureau’s old weather model suite’, according to the BoM website.
It’s essential that a country like Australia, which stretches from the monsoonal tropics to the Antarctic—and is surrounded by three oceans—has the capacity to build, develop and run complex climate models. These can’t be just ‘bought off the shelf’: they need to be refined and ‘ground-truthed’ to reflect the diversity of Australia’s landscape and oceans. Food security, disaster management, urban planning and all forms of economic activity ultimately rely not only on the nation’s ability to provide a weather forecast now, but also our ability to understand the future and how it will change.
Australia has the third largest maritime jurisdiction in the world and we live in a region where people rely on the health and prosperity borne of the Pacific and Indian Oceans. That we understand our oceans is fundamental. Losing our ability to participate in large-scale ocean science and observation will ultimately erode Australia’s ability to shape the future and influence regional affairs.
The importance of science as a tool of soft diplomacy in our region shouldn’t be underestimated; it was certainly a key component of Australia’s bid for a seat at the UN Security Council. Diminishing our capacity to participate in science reduces our capacity to influence others. It’s a gap will be readily filled by others like China which is already investing heavily in marine research and oceanography.
The ramifications of CSIRO’s announcement need to be assessed across Government. At the very least, the Portfolios of the Prime Minister and Cabinet, Foreign Affairs and Trade, Defence, Science, Environment and Agriculture should work together to determine a whole-of-government response to the announced changes to Australia’s climate capabilities. Whatever the proposed solution, it requires a close connection to government, where national interests are key to research efforts and outputs.
Now is not the time to reduce Australia’s capabilities and undermine our outstanding reputation in such a fundamental area of research.
In 2016 we live in a comparatively peaceful world. No great power is at war with another. Even middle-power conflict is absent: no Iran–Iraq war with chemical weapons being tossed about, for example. Wars can certainly be found, primarily in the broken states of the Middle East. But most of those don’t appear to be a harbinger of doomsday. In brief, while the world’s strategic environment probably can’t be described as benign, it does seem to be manageable. We’re not standing on the brink of an abyss.
But watchers of the Doomsday Clock would be hard pressed to find much evidence of that manageable global order. The clock is meant to symbolise the countdown to global catastrophe—predominantly from nuclear war but nowadays encompassing threats from climate change and new biological technologies. Those crises are described as ‘existential’—as threatening the very existence of civilisation. Keepers of the clock, the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists, recently made their latest determination to leave the hands unchanged. That means it remains set at three minutes to midnight. Newsweek covered the event with an article titled ‘Apocalypse soon’. And visitors to the Bulletin’s website are invited to cast their votes on whether the clock should be adjusted by a minute or two in either direction.
The clock’s been around since 1947. For much of the 1950s it was set at two minutes to midnight, while the US and the USSR raced to build nuclear arsenals and engaged in a competition to see who could build the biggest hydrogen bomb. And for a few years in the mid-1980s, the clock was set at three minutes to midnight, symbolising the tensions in the superpower nuclear balance. The immediate post-Cold War years saw the clock wound back to 17 minutes to midnight, but adjustments since have, by and large, been towards smaller numbers. Obviously, it’s difficult to sustain a sense of urgency if the hands are even a quarter of an hour from midnight.
At this point, it’s hard to know what might see a major resetting of the clock. Nuclear disarmament might see it set back a few minutes, I suppose. But realistically you’d have to make allowance for the possibility of reconstitution of nuclear arsenals during a crisis—which I think could easily be more dangerous territory than where we are now. For one thing, there’s no guarantee that reconstitution would occur at an even, balanced rate across key geopolitical fulcra. Repeated crossing of the bridge between a nuclear and a non-nuclear world is a recipe for disaster if ever I saw one. Still, that’s not where we are now.
At least in relation to current nuclear dangers, I’m puzzled by what it is that’s supposed to happen at midnight? Do we reach midnight with the first nuclear detonation in a war? If so, what does 1am look like? Some of the most interesting and neglected questions in nuclear strategy concern what happens after deterrence fails. But a failure of deterrence needn’t mean ‘doomsday’—or, at least, not doomsday in the sense that films and computer games often suggest.
Naturally, we should be interested in slowing, halting and reversing any slide towards the use of nuclear weapons. But if we do end up crossing the threshold, the answer’s not to throw up our hands and resign ourselves to extinction. Rather, we need to have a meaningful set of strategic choices after midnight—including options for slowing, halting and reversing further nuclear use on the day after. Obsessing about midnight doesn’t help us develop those.
Last year graphic designer Michael Bierut described the Doomsday Clock as ‘the most powerful piece of information design of the 20th century’. Visually, the clock’s simple and arresting—albeit an analogue image in a digital age. (Future generations might struggle to read it, just as they now struggle to comprehend pounds, shillings and pence.) But I’m dubious about how much ‘information’ it actually conveys. I’m not convinced we’re on the verge of extinction, and the idea that ‘the end is nigh’ is neither new nor especially useful. The clock’s best days now lie behind it. I vote for turning it off.
The authors of the new Defence White Paper deserve our sympathy. They have to address the widest range of challenges to our national security that has ever been faced. We may be out of the era of bellicose great powers confronting each other with clear willingness to go to war as in 1914 and 1939–41, but what a complex era we have moved into.
The effects of climate change are becoming evident. Masses of people are on the move to escape starvation, flooding and malfunctioning regimes. Refugee flows are likely to increase. Hostility is building between the West and Islamic radicals. We may have to face terrorist strikes on a new scale and across a wider area. We need to tighten our border controls. We may want to respond positively to calls by the UN or our allies for help in intervention. We live in a world where nuclear proliferation is continuing slowly but surely, as the North Koreans recently demonstrated.
So how does Australia protect itself acceptably against those dangers within a defence budget of close to 2% of GDP? It’s tempting to say that we cannot, and the Government will clearly try to prevent a major cost expansion. So where should our defence priorities be? For myself, control of our surrounding sea space comes first, and for day-to-day purposes that means a strong patrol boat force backed by some major surface combatants and a comprehensive aerial reconnaissance capacity.
If regional order breaks down and moderate sized forces are sent against us, we will need a substantial army. This will compel an enemy to attack with large numbers, which would be much more difficult to assemble, move and supply, and would also offer a better target for counter-attack by our naval and air forces.
What do we have by way of an army? It doesn’t take long to tell. We have seven (regular) battalions of the Royal Australian Regiment, 14 reserve battalions, five special units (SAS, Commandos, etc.), a tank regiment a cavalry regiment and six reserve cavalry units. Out of that number we can squeeze a brigade-sized force, the minimum that we should deploy on intervention missions. But for home defence, say of the north-western sector of our continent, we cannot cover much. A battalion, well supplied and supported by artillery and tanks, can defend an area of around 1km by 1km. So what can 21 battalions defend?
We need a strong mobilisation capability to be able to field this force and then expand it in time of real threat. One of the greatest bottlenecks in expansion is at the company commander level. They cannot be trained overnight. It takes a few years to do the job adequately. So men and women need to be recruited, trained and developed as commanders and then retained. Such a program is expensive and needs special consideration if it’s to be available in time of danger.
Our air defences need to be brought up to date. We require new fighters for controlling the airspace around Australia, and we need missiles and warning/control systems to support them. As we learned painfully in the Korean War, if you go into an air war with obsolete aircraft, you get knocked out of the skies. Any enemy launching an attack on Australia is likely to have impressive aircraft. The costs sound terrifying, but we shouldn’t fool ourselves—that’s the price of security in a developed East Asia. The same reasoning applies to transport and strike aircraft.
We’ve chosen in the more recent past to rest our hope for maritime security in a significant force of submarines. That strategy is still credible, so we need new submarines. We’ll also need more surface combatants to work with our submarine and air forces. We need supply vessels and both the Navy and the Air Force need newer base facilities. Clearly we’re moving into higher budget territory, and I would expect the White Paper to argue strongly for greater financial resources.
They won’t have an easy task in persuading the government, but they can point to the development of a potentially disorderly world around us to strengthen their leverage. The problem of controlling the flows of starving, badly-governed, desperate people is going to grow. Papua New Guinea has a population of nine million people, many of whom are subsistence farmers. When the effects of climate change become more evident it’s likely that there will be hundreds of thousands of hungry people looking for somewhere else to live.
There could be larger refugee flows out of the Middle East and Southeast Asia hoping to head in our direction. Conflict may occur in the East and South China seas. Kim Jong-un might use force against South Korea or Japanese interests. Europe has yet to absorb all the refugees that it has accepted recently, so there’s potential for turmoil within the borders of the European Union.
Those kinds of conflicts, including those in and around Russia, the Middle East and Africa, can create a climate of fear in the world, leading to severe breaches of the peace such as a terrorist group using a ‘dirty nuke’ against a major US city. Such conflicts aren’t directed at Australia in the first instance but they can accelerate the growth of fear and violence which would have direct implications for Australia.
Those tasked with finalising the new Defence White Paper need to think widely, and those who allocate our national resources to security need to confront the questions of what kind of mobilisation base do we need and how can we make it effective in a timely manner if danger threatens.
Conflict and instability in the Middle East have dominated the news for quite a few years now, with the Arab Spring and the unfolding human tragedy in Syria ranking as two of the most significant events in the region. The recent emergence of ISIS and associated terrorist activities beyond the region are perhaps even more dramatic consequences. The geo-political, social and cultural factors that are fuelling the instability and conflict in the region are complex, well-known and difficult to deal with.
Climate change can exacerbate a wide range of existing, interacting, non-climate threats to security; it may contribute to a conflict, rather than being the sole cause. In this way, climate change is often viewed as a ‘threat multiplier’. The role of climate change as a threat multiplier often works through its impacts on the availability of food and water. Communities, societies, countries and regions experiencing shortages of food and water are more vulnerable to tension, conflict and migration.
The 2008 food and energy crisis is an example of how climate change can affect food availability and demand, and thus contribute to conflict and migration. The crisis caused the number of undernourished people around the world to increase from 848 million to 923 million. In the three years leading up to the crisis, food prices increased by 83% while global grain stocks were at their lowest level since 1982. Food riots erupted across Africa and the Middle East in 2008 as basic food prices soared. The cost of wheat increased by 127%, rice by 170% and the cost of maize by 300%.
Several non-climate related, long-term trends contributed to the 2008 crisis. First, steadily diminishing availability of new, high-quality agricultural land; second, slowing crop yield increases in response to agricultural intensification in many parts of the world; and third, rising global demand for food.
In addition to those stresses, changes in the climate played a significant role, especially in the Middle East. The Mediterranean region is currently experiencing an ongoing 50-year drying trend, likely linked to climate change, which puts significant stress on local and regional food production. Embedded in that long-term trend, from 2007 to 2010, Syria experienced its worst drought on record. Analyses by climate scientists suggest that climate change made a drought of this severity two or three times more likely than it otherwise would have been.
The 2008 food-energy crisis. (Source: Homer-Dixon et al 2015.)
That combination of stresses overloaded the global food system’s coping capacity, with particularly serious consequences for the Middle East. But even more stresses were to confound and deepen the crisis.
In addition to these direct stresses on the food system, rising oil prices in the 2000s drove up food prices through the increasing cost of food production, processing and distribution. But rising oil prices also encouraged some farmers to switch production from grains-for-food to grains-for-biofuels as a substitute for fossil-based transport fuels. That reduced food production and put even more pressure on the global food system.
This represents a major new link between food and energy. Because cropland can now be used for either feedstock for biofuels or for food production, the global food and energy systems have become even more closely interconnected.
Climate change exacerbated the 2008 food crisis even further. As the rising oil prices, diminishing global food stocks, and regional droughts around the Mediterranean really began to bite, an injection of grain into the global system was badly needed to stabilise prices. However, at that point, the global food system took another hit.
In the 2008–09 period, Australia was suffering the peak of the Millennium Drought, significantly dropping wheat production in both the southwest and southeast grain growing areas. This meant that Australia could export less grain into the global market than it normally does, further tightening global supplies and driving up prices.
So what about the future? An independent expert taskforce from the UK and USA has found that climate change is increasing the risk that a significant ‘weather-related shock’ will hit global food production, destabilising global grain markets and affecting the well-being of individuals and societies in vulnerable countries. The analysis suggests that the risk of a 1-in-100 year production shock event from extreme weather could increase to a 1-in-30 year risk or more in the next few decades.
There’s a clear bottom line here.
Ultimately, climate change represents a potentially catastrophic shift in the planetary life support system that has supported human existence and development since modern humans evolved some 200,000 to 250,000 years ago. Climate change is far more than just an environmental issue: it fundamentally changes our relationship with food and water, both of which are essential to our well-being and for the viability of nearly all other forms of life.
We have collectively built and optimised all of human civilisation for the relatively stable climate that has existed for thousands of years, starting at the end of the last ice age. That climate is now changing rapidly. We must adapt to the inevitable changes that are already occurring while working hard to minimise the long-term change, some of which could be massive, abrupt and disruptive to a planet currently carrying over 7.3 billion people, all of whom want, expect, and have a right to a decent and safe standard of living.
We will need to meet the challenge of climate change in a context of existing regional, political and ethnic tensions, an ever-increasingly globalised society, and one that’s becoming more interconnected by the month. Climate change is one of the largest long-term, global challenges humans have faced in the history of civilisation. The implications for the security sector and defence forces are formidable.
The Antarctic region is of immense strategic importance to Australia, not only because Australia claims 42% of Antarctica, but also because the Antarctic Treaty provides that all of the planet below 60 degrees South is a demilitarised zone. Antarctica plays a large role in the global climate system. The vast, cold continent holds about 90% of the world’s ice—or around 60% of the world’s fresh water.
The Southern Ocean surrounding Antarctica is a significant driver of the planet’s ocean currents, and links the Indian, Pacific and Atlantic oceans. The Southern Ocean stores heat and carbon, which has served to limit the rate of climate change to date. The world’s oceans have stored about 30% of the additional carbon dioxide produced by humans since pre-industrila times , and 90% of the extra heat generated by human activities since the 1960s . The ocean below 40 degrees South is responsible for about 40% of the global ocean take-up of anthropogenic carbon dioxide.
The 5th Assessment Report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) concluded that the observed warming of the Earth is strongest in the polar regions, and that surface temperatures over large areas of the Antarctic Peninsula have risen considerably faster than the global average. The Southern Ocean is also warming more rapidly than the global ocean average. The Antarctic Peninsula is showing the most obvious signs of change in the form of increased loss of ice shelves and subsequent greater glacial flow.
There have been significant seasonal changes in sea ice distribution in the peninsula region, including an overall loss of around 25% of sea ice, and a shortening of the annual period when the surrounding ocean is covered by sea ice. Those regional changes in the sea ice season and distribution have, among other things, changed the behaviour of the krill fishing industry by allowing longer and greater access to krill stocks.
In other parts of the Antarctic, especially in the Ross Sea region south of New Zealand, the maximum annual sea ice cover has increased. And overall, the annual sea ice extent around Antarctica has shown a small increasing trend of between 1 and 2% per decade for the period 1979 to 2012.
The West Antarctic ice sheet has been losing mass—that is, more ice is lost to the sea than accumulates in the ice sheet. This decrease has been partly offset by increased snowfall in East Antarctica. It’s been estimated that Antarctica as a whole contributed around 0.14mm per year to global sea-level rise from 1961 to 2003, a rate that rose to 0.21mm in the period from 1993 to 2003. Global mean sea level has risen by 0.19m from 1901−2010. The IPCC says it’s likely that the rate of sea level rise increased to 3.2mm per year 1993 and 2010.
The contribution of the Greenland and Antarctic ice sheets is the greatest current uncertainty in global projections of sea-level rise—increased loss of ice from Antarctica will push up global sea-level rise projections.
Increased carbon dioxide in the atmosphere has led to changes in the acidity of the Southern Ocean and has the potential to impact the ocean’s marine life and ecosystems. And changes in ocean temperature have led to changes in species distribution and abundance in Antarctica, and the rapid expansion of ranges for some species like the king crab, with consequential changes to ecosystems.
Climate models indicate that the Southern Ocean will continue to change in response to increased greenhouse gas emissions, producing further ocean warming and freshening, changes in ocean currents, a greater contribution to sea-level rise through glacial melt, and regional changes in the extent and volume of Antarctic sea ice. Although surface temperatures in Antarctica and the Southern Ocean will warm more slowly than elsewhere on the planet, the projected changes are profound. The warming of deep ocean waters surrounding Antarctica is happening far more rapidly than in any other ocean.
The Southern Ocean supports the world’s largest underexploited fishery—the Antarctic krill fishery. Reductions in sea ice will reduce ‘natural’ barriers to shipping access in high latitudes and open up otherwise difficult areas for marine resources harvesting. Those activities are managed under the Antarctic Treaty System, and Australia has an interest in ensuring that international decisions take account of account of the best available science.
The expansion of membership of the Antarctic Treaty and the Commission for the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources (CCAMLR), has seen some of the norms of the Antarctic Treaty System challenged. That’s particularly the case in CCAMLR where some countries have begun to put forward views on fisheries that fundamentally challenge the conservation principle of the convention.
While illegal, unregulated and unreported (IUU) fishing has declined dramatically in the Antarctic, there’s always the potential for new players to enter the scene, and Australia and other Antarctic countries must continue their efforts to eradicate the scourge of IUU fishing.
In recent times there has been increased speculation about the potential for mineral resource activity in Antarctica, even though it’s banned indefinitely by the Madrid Protocol. Potentially greater access to the sea-bed in some parts of the Antarctic may provoke countries to challenge the norms of the Antarctic Treaty System, or at least use the lure of resource exploitation for domestic political advantage.
Successive Australian Governments have championed the Madrid Protocol’s ban on mining in Antarctica and the goal of CCAMLR to conserve Antarctica’s marine living resources and protect the Antarctic ecosystem. As interest in Antarctica’s resources grows, Australia and like-minded countries need to concentrate their scientific and diplomatic resources to protect the Antarctic environment.
The strongest protection for Australia’s Antarctic interests is active engagement in, and the ability to lead, international efforts in Antarctic collaboration, science and diplomacy. The Antarctic region is of immense strategic importance to Australia and must be front of mind for the Australian government as it considers how it can sustain a strong position as our interests in the region face new challenges from the changing climate.
Last week I attended a climate change and strategic military geography seminar held at Russell Offices in Canberra on the impact of climate change on Defence. The seminar was convened by the Global Change and Strategic Military Geography VCDF Group, that’s held similar events before. The two speakers were Helen Cleugh, leader of the CSIRO’s earth systems hub, and Will Howard, assistant director at Office of the Chief Scientist. Howard addressed another carbon issue that’s largely independent of global warming: the problem of acid oceans. The core messages from the two presentations were that changes to the climate are already underway, that these changes don’t respect national boundaries, and that Defence isn’t immune from the impacts of climate change. (The presentations delivered by Cleugh and Howard can be accessed online, here and here (PDF).)
Water and food scarcity, flooding, increased natural disasters, atmospheric changes, ocean acidification and increased costs will impact on many aspects of Defence’s business.
Climate change is having a multi-faceted effect on many states, and it’s interacting with other political, social and economic problems.
Livelihood insecurity is a likely result of climate change in our broad region. There’ll be more extreme weather events and volatility in the prices and availability of food, because climate variability disrupts food production.
There’ll be possible increased tension over trans-boundary water resources and sea-level rise will threaten the viability of low-lying areas, with the potential for displacement.
I’ve previously examined some of these climate risks to our military and law enforcement communities. I’ve also considered the broad environmental security challenges posed by ocean acidification.
Some of the implications for Defence emerged from the recent VCDF Group sponsored seminar.
There’s threat multipliers posed by a changing climate. These risks alter the roles and missions that our military undertakes as a result of the physical alteration of the operating environment, as well as changes to the nature, frequency and distribution of conflict.
Risks of rising temperatures relate to the impact on the health of our 80,000 military personnel (both full and part-time reservists). A report released last Thursday by the Academy of Science looks at the health threats posed by climate change.
Imagine the impact on daily training routines or military exercises if temperatures increased by two degrees by mid-century, or as high as five degrees by the end of the century.
Sea level rises, increasing temperatures, extreme heat waves and longer, more intense droughts also portend changes to the way Defence manages and operates its vast estate.
Defence infrastructure has been largely designed and built on the assumption of a stable climate with known variability.
Defence will require a more strategic approach to range management: understanding how ranges will be affected by climate change and pinpointing areas of high risk. There’ll need to be closer engagement between Defence and our emergency services, especially rural fire services.
Last week’s seminar moved the issue of climate security and Defence forward: both speakers made it clear that the topic’s worthy of high level Defence attention.
These kinds of seminars help Defence to identify and address the risks associated with climate change. But there’s also value in two-way communication: Defence’s approach to contingency planning and thinking about the unexpected also benefits our climate science community.
The take-away message for me was the need for Defence to keep pressing on the issue; a business as usual approach to climate change and its impacts on Defence isn’t an option. Defence should appoint a senior military leader to act as a single strategic voice for climate change national security issues.
It’s fair to say that, despite the existence of initiatives and organisations such as the Indian Ocean Naval Symposium (IONS) and the Indian Ocean Rim Association (IORA), Indian Ocean regional architecture is under-developed. This reflects a lack of shared interests relative to some other regions, including limited economic and strategic integration, great socio-economic disparities, and modest people-to-people links. Yet there’s benefit in seeking to address Indian Ocean transnational issues by regional means.
I recently attended a workshop in Mauritius organised by IORA, in association with the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies in Singapore, on ‘IORA and Strategic Stability in the Indian Ocean’. I was asked to address the question of what IORA can do to build trust, confidence and effective security cooperation. Here are the key points of what I said in Port Louis. Read more
Failure to adequately invest in critical infrastructure that provides essential functions and services for our society practically guarantees we’ll see failures of critical systems when they’re put under stress by extreme weather events.
The Australian government’s Climate Commission recently released a report arguing that we’re likely to see a greater spate of deadly and destructive weather events. Not being well prepared for dealing with extreme weather events is very expensive. The tab for the damage to public infrastructure across Queensland in the 2011 floods alone was between $5 and $6 billion (PDF, p15). Read more
For defence and security thinkers the dominant theme for the past several years has been the rise of China and the potential for this development to create tension across the Asia–Pacific. The US pivot, President Barack Obama’s speech to the Australian Parliament, an increasing focus on the South China Sea and the release of Australia’s Asian Century White Paper all signal widespread concern that China’s growing influence will result in a redefining of the region’s strategic order.
The focus on China is understandable, but this singularity of attention has meant that another challenge has not received the consideration it warrants. The real danger lies in the intensification of the present shortage of resources, particularly food and water, and the likelihood that shortfalls will spur instability and conflict across the Asia–Pacific and the globe. Resource wars are coming, and yet comparatively little has been said about them by commentators or done to prepare for them by governments.
Of the many resources that humanity consumes, the most vital are food and water. In 2012 over one billion people suffered from chronic hunger, the majority of them living in the Asia–Pacific, while a further billion are ‘food insecure’. This is only the start of the hunger, and experts predict that the global food supply will diminish in coming years. In fact, the situation might already be irretrievable, because: Read more