Abstract

How things were a decade ago: The largest rain forest of our planet abides in the Amazon Basin, a tenth of the entire world biomass. It is one of the last great frontiers on earth; only the bottom of the sea presents terra incognita on so rich and grand a scale. Perhaps half the planet's species dwell in Amazonia, most of them still unknown to our own technological encampment. No mere ocean of green, this community is so intricately interwoven as to constitute a single vast organism, the one true Leviathan, outweighing all the whales in all the oceans of the world that have ever lived. It is the last and greatest forest on earth, and now it is disappearing before it has been discovered: At nearly an acre a second, the TransAmazon highway system and the land clearing operations it has enabled are extinguishing the forest before it can be explored. From space, Landsat pictures show the burned-over patches spreading with the highway network year by year, magenta sores in the false-color images. We, the voracious Lilliputians now, antlike, are dismantling the greatest biochemical engine on earth at a scale so vast that the carbon dioxide economy of the entire planetary atmosphere suffers. In a century of genocides, perhaps the penultimate great extinction unfolds, prologue to the threatening self-immolation of our own species.