When I stepped into the bustling exhibition hall at Enlit Africa in Cape Town in May 2024, I was surprised by the riot of colorful banners featuring Chinese characters. A whopping 40% of the exhibitors at one of Africa’s largest energy and power conferences in Cape Town from China—more than any other country. 

Indonesia is the world’s largest producer and exporter of palm oil, an ingredient used globally in a huge variety of food and household products from peanut butter to shampoo. Yet it is also an important driver of deforestation and contributor to climate change and biodiversity loss. Over the past 20 years, the expansion of palm oil plantations has contributed one-third of the total loss of old-growth forests in Indonesia (around 3 million hectares).

While standing on the banks of the Mahakam River in Samarinda on the island of Borneo, I watched an unending parade of coal barges sail slowly down the river. I was here in East Kalimantan to give a presentation at the Vulnerable Deltas Workshop—a joint project of the East-West Center and the Wilson Center’s China Environment Forum.

In 2019, at the height of the trade war with the United States, Chinese President Xi Jinping visited a rare earth magnet factory in Jiangxi Province. At the time, the visit was interpreted as “muscle flexing” by China’s leader to remind Washington of its dependence on Beijing for the supply of rare earths. Rare earth elements (REEs) – a group of 17 critical metals – are indispensable components in military defense systems, consumer electronics and renewable energy technologies. Despite more than a decade of sustained efforts by Western countries and companies to loosen China’s grip, Beijing, by far remains the top player in the REE global mining, processing and refining sectors. 

Li Meini, a junior high school student in Beijing’s Tiantongyuan Community, was seeing more news about wildfires, floods and heat waves and couldn’t stop worrying about the safety of the local wildlife. “…Animals have nowhere to escape from wildfires and floods…their homes are destroyed in an instant. Humans have technology to reduce the impact of climate warming. I hope these technologies can also help wild animals better survive.”

Each spring, as Shenzhen’s mangroves burst into life, the region becomes a prime spot for birdwatchers observing the endangered, black-faced spoonbill. Known as the giant panda of birds, this species winters in Shenzhen Bay from October to April, in preparation for its northbound migration. Shenzhen Bay, located in southern China and part of the Pearl River Delta expanding into Hong Kong, is a crucial stop-off point for migratory birds using the East Asian-Australasian flyway. The mangroves support over 200 species of birds and host 100,000 migratory birds each winter, drawing enthusiasts and scientists alike to witness these natural spectacles against the backdrop of one of China’s most bustling urban settings.

During the World Wildlife Fund’s Plastic Policy Summit in March in Washington D.C., I grabbed coffee in a white ceramic mug provided by the convention venue. Reusable mugs seemed unusual amid today’s prevalence of single-use cups, prompting me to reflect on how we have normalized single-use: I bought yogurt and soda in returnable bottles in Beijing; generations before us grew up with reuse. Why did we move away from it?

Back in 2020, Shiyang Li at Rare visited restaurants across China to interview over 30 different owners and staff about the attitudes, beliefs, and everyday behaviors that contribute to food waste.  Similar to global trends, food waste in China remains a significant challenge. A 2020 survey found restaurants in Chinese cities wasted at least 34 million tons of food every year, which can feed as many as 49 million people.