Picture turning yard waste, wood scraps, and farm leftovers into something that stores carbon underground for centuries and improves soil health. That’s the idea behind biochar. While this is true, it doesn’t tell the full story.

For over twenty years, researchers, entrepreneurs, and climate advocates have promoted biochar as a top way to remove carbon dioxide from the air. Early estimates said it could take out 3.4 to 6.3 billion tons of CO₂ each year, which is huge. This excitement led to many scientific papers, startup investments, and carbon credit deals.

But a new analysis in Nature Sustainability from January 2026 says we should slow down. Biochar is real, but the excitement has gotten ahead of the facts. The researchers warn that too much hype could lead to a “boom-and-bust cycle” that ends up hurting the technology.

What Is Biochar?

Biochar is charcoal, but not the kind you use at a backyard cookout. It’s made by heating organic materials such as wood chips, crop waste, or agricultural byproducts in a low-oxygen environment through a process called pyrolysis. The result is a dark, porous, carbon-rich material that resists breaking down in soil for centuries or even millennia.

The inspiration came from an unlikely source: ancient Amazonian soils. Researchers discovered that the region’s famously fertile “terra preta” (Portuguese for “dark earth”) owed its richness to charcoal that Indigenous peoples had mixed into the soil thousands of years ago. That charcoal had survived intact, still improving soil structure and fertility long after the civilization that made it passed into history.

When scientists studied terra preta, they realized that locking carbon in a solid form and burying it in soil removes it from the air for a long time. Biochar looked like a win-win: it could store carbon and help farms. This led to more funding, research, and new companies.

The Numbers That Raised Alarms

The issue isn’t that biochar doesn’t work, but it hasn’t lived up to the early high hopes. The Nature Sustainability analysis by Italian soil scientists Luciano Gristina and Riccardo Scalenghe explains the numbers in detail.

Let’s look at production. All certified biochar facilities in the world make about 350,000 tons each year. That might sound like a lot, but spread over the world’s 1.5 billion hectares of farmland, it’s tiny. The researchers found that this would raise the soil surface by less than one-tenth the width of a human hair per year. This shows how far current production is from what’s needed for climate goals.

Next is the question of carbon storage. Biochar’s actual impact is about a thousand times smaller than early estimates. Even after subtracting the emissions from making it, the net climate benefit is only a few hundred thousand tons of CO₂ at most. For comparison, global emissions are about 36 billion tons each year.

Economics make things even harder. Studies show that feedstock—the raw material for biochar—can make up as much as 75% of the total cost. So, biochar projects only make financial sense if they have free or very cheap biomass, or steady income from carbon credits. Without these, most projects aren’t profitable.

In Southeast Asia, trials showed that adding biochar to farmland produced only modest yield improvements, not nearly enough to justify the cost for smallholder farmers without a subsidy.

Too Many Papers, Not Enough Proof

The researchers have another worry: there is so much research on biochar now that it looks like a bubble.

Scientific papers on biochar have jumped from fewer than 10 a year in the early 2000s to over 1,000 a year by the 2020s. The researchers point out that biochar now gets much more attention than older topics like acid rain, which was a major environmental issue studied for decades.

Much of this increase in papers comes from a small group of very active authors. A 2023 report in Nature found that the number of scientists publishing over 60 papers a year—more than one per week—has almost quadrupled in less than ten years. Biochar is a clear example, with a few names dominating the field and shaping how mature it seems.

There are now warning signs from institutions. According to Clarivate’s Web of Science index, two major journals that published a lot of biochar research, Chemosphere and Science of the Total Environment, were removed from the index for not meeting editorial standards. Investigations found problems like peer-review manipulation, fake reviewer identities, and unusual authorship practices. This shows that the scientific community is starting to push back on a field that may be moving too quickly for the evidence.

The worry isn’t that biochar researchers are being dishonest. It’s that career incentives reward publishing quickly rather than publishing carefully. Field experiments are slow and expensive. Lab results are faster. When the pressure to publish outpaces the ability to verify, fields can develop an inflated sense of their own progress, and then crash when reality catches up. Biochar has value, but it must be scaled to the right size to make environmental and economic sense.

What Would an Effective Biochar Path Look Like?

The Nature Sustainability report doesn’t say biochar is a lost cause. Instead, it suggests the field needs a reset: fewer papers, more checking; less speed, more solid research.

Specifically, the researchers call for:

• Pre-registered trial designs so that results can’t be cherry-picked after the fact
• Open data and public protocols that allow independent researchers to check each other’s work
• Dedicated “verification articles” that reproduce influential findings before new claims pile on top of them
• Funding earmarked for confirmatory studies and even negative results — research that shows what doesn’t work, not just what does
• Evaluation metrics that reward verified contributions over sheer publication counts

The acid rain parallel is instructive. In the 1980s, acid rain was a front-page environmental crisis, the subject of intense scientific and policy debate. It receded from headlines not because the problem was imaginary, but because coordinated policy — cleaner fuels, emissions standards, pollution controls — actually reduced sulfur dioxide and nitrogen oxide emissions. Evidence of ecosystem recovery followed. The field moved from alarm to action to outcome, a model worth following.

For biochar, the right approach is to be honest about what it can and can’t do. More real-world projects are now working within these limits.

Five Biochar Projects To Watch

Even with big challenges, some biochar projects around the world are finding success. They usually use local waste materials and earn money from more than just carbon credits.

Exomad Green — Bolivia

Exomad Green is currently the world’s largest biochar producer, operating two facilities that together remove about 260,000 tons of CO₂ per year. The feedstock is sawmill waste, wood residues that would otherwise be open-burned. The material is converted into biochar through pyrolysis, in other words, it is burned. That biochar is then donated to indigenous farming communities to improve degraded soils. In May 2025, Microsoft signed a 10-year agreement with Exomad Green for 1.24 million tons of CO₂ removal; the largest single biochar deal ever made. The model works because the feedstock is genuinely waste material with no better use, and the soil co-benefits for local communities are real and documented.

Pacific Biochar — California, USA

Pacific Biochar has built its model around a genuine dual benefit: it collects organic material from forests with high wildfire risk, reducing the fuel load that makes fires catastrophic, and converts that material into biochar for agricultural use. In 2024, CDR.fyi recognized Pacific Biochar as the global leader in durable carbon removal deliveries, accounting for 21% of total global certified volume. The California focus matters: the state’s wildfire crisis creates a near-endless supply of biomass that genuinely needs to be removed from the landscape, making the feedstock economics unusually solid.

Novocarbo — Germany

Novocarbo represents a different economic logic: the “Carbon Removal Park” model, where biochar production is bundled with renewable energy generation. At its flagship facility in Grevesmühlen, Germany, plant residues are converted into biochar using advanced pyrolysis units, and the waste heat from that process — about 6,600 megawatt-hours per year — is piped to roughly 1,800 nearby households for heating. Carbon credits are one revenue stream; district heating fees are another. That diversification makes the project less dependent on voluntary carbon market prices, which can be volatile. Novocarbo secured €27 million in new funding in 2025 to expand the model across Europe.

Aperam BioEnergia — Brazil

Aperam BioEnergia, certified by Puro.earth, is one of the most established biochar projects in the Global South. Operating in Minas Gerais, Brazil, it converts forestry residues into biochar, with plans to produce 30,000 tons annually by 2026. The project has sold more than 100,000 tons of carbon removal credits since 2021 and supports sustainable forest management practices alongside its production. It’s a model that pairs industrial scale with regional feedstock — the biomass inputs are produced nearby, keeping transport emissions low.

Carbonity / Airex Energy — Québec, Canada

Airex Energy’s pyrolysis technology is the backbone of Carbonity’s new facility in Port-Cartier, Québec — slated to become the largest biochar plant in North America. The project, backed by a consortium including Groupe Rémabec and SUEZ, represents roughly CAD 80 million in investment and aims to produce 10,000 tons of biochar in 2025, scaling to 30,000 by 2026. The feedstock is forest residues from the surrounding region. Microsoft has already purchased 36,000 carbon credits from an associated supply deal. The project is notable for its scale, but also carries the scrutiny that comes with large industrial operations in sensitive northern ecosystems.

Local, Small, and Real

These five projects have something important in common. The strongest ones, both economically and environmentally, use waste materials, work close to where those materials come from to cut transport emissions, and find value beyond just selling carbon credits.

That’s the conclusion the Nature Sustainability researchers point toward, even if they don’t say it quite so directly. The biochar projects most likely to survive and do genuine good are the ones that would still make sense even if the voluntary carbon market collapsed tomorrow, because their feedstock is free or nearly free, their soil benefits are real and local, and their energy co-products create additional value.

What likely won’t work is the dream of scaling biochar fast and wide enough to make a big dent in the 36 billion tons of CO₂ released each year. The numbers just don’t add up—not now, and maybe not ever—unless there are big changes in cost, feedstock supply, and how quickly the science can be checked.

That doesn’t mean we should give up on biochar. Instead, we should be clear about what it is: a useful, long-lasting, local way to turn waste into something valuable, with real benefits for farmers and soil, and a real—if small—role in removing carbon. Not everything has to save the world to be worthwhile.

The lesson from the acid rain research and responses fits here too: the goal isn’t to keep chasing new research. It’s to let the evidence catch up, support projects that stand up to close review, and build something lasting. The way forward will include many smaller, local biochar initiatives, not monolithic, world-saving programs that over-promise, threatening a valid carbon sequestration strategy.

What You Can Do

• Support verified projects. If you or your organization purchases carbon offsets, look for biochar credits certified by Puro.earth or Verra with transparent feedstock sourcing and publicly available lifecycle data.
• Ask about feedstock. Not all biochar is created equal. Biochar made from waste materials that would otherwise be burned or decompose has much stronger climate credentials than biochar produced from purpose-grown crops.
• Look for local applications. Some municipalities and agricultural extension programs are exploring biochar for compost enhancement and soil remediation. Local applications with local feedstocks are the most ecologically sound.
• Be skeptical of big numbers. If a company or project claims to sequester millions of tons of CO₂ per year through biochar alone, ask to see the verified delivery data — not just projections.
• Follow the science, not the hype. The International Biochar Initiative maintains a more grounded overview of the field’s actual state of knowledge.

The post Biochar Was a Billion-Ton Dream, the Reality Is More Complicated appeared first on Earth911.

At one point, the Pacific Northwest lost three square miles of old-growth forest every week to clearcutting. Now, the Trump administration is returning to this practice.

In February 2026, the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) proposed changes to management plans for nearly 2.5 million acres of Oregon forests. The goal is to increase timber production fourfold and remove protections for old-growth forests and the endangered species that rely on them.

This proposal comes at a time when science is revealing even more about the importance of these forests. They are some of the best carbon-storing ecosystems on Earth, vital reservoirs of biodiversity, and essential for the communities nearby. If lost, they cannot be replaced within any human lifetime.

What Is an Old-Growth Forest?

Researchers first used the term in the 1970s to describe complex, biodiverse forests at least 150 years old. Still, there is no single definition for “old growth.” In the U.S., a federal rule protects trees over 21 inches in diameter in six national forests, where most old-growth forests are found. Many environmentalists define old growth as any forest that has never been logged. All definitions focus on complexity: old-growth forests have layered canopies, fallen logs in different stages of decay, and an understory full of fungi, ferns, and centuries of stored soil carbon.

In western Oregon, this complexity shows in Douglas fir and western red cedar trees that grow up to 200 feet tall, covered in moss so thick it hides their trunks. Even today, these forests are among the most productive timberlands in the world.

The Carbon Case, Revised and Strengthened

It was once believed that only young forests accumulated carbon while old forests merely stored it. Scientists now know that is wrong. A landmark global analysis of 519 forest carbon-flux estimates found that in forests aged 15 to 800 years, net carbon balance is usually positive. Old forests keep sequestering — they are not neutral.

A 2024 study in AGU Advances compared old-growth forests in the Pacific Northwest to younger managed forests. It found that old-growth forests produce more biomass for each unit of water used, keep storing carbon even as they age, and are much more resilient to drought than replanted forests. This resilience is especially important as Oregon faces hotter, drier summers, making the drought-buffering ability of old-growth forests just as valuable as their carbon storage.

A 2025 study in Science of the Total Environment found that mature and old-growth forests are better than younger forests at tackling both climate change and biodiversity loss at the same time. Plantations and second-growth timber stands cannot match these benefits.

The numbers show that cutting down old-growth trees is a bad idea. Bev Law, professor emerita at Oregon State University, told reporters that bringing BLM harvests back to 1 billion board feet a year, as the Trump administration aimed for in 2019, would be “insanity.” These forests can live for thousands of years. The carbon stored in their wood and soil stays out of the atmosphere and keeps building up over time.

Oregon Becomes a Battleground

The main threat from the Administration is focused on western Oregon’s O&C Lands. These lands, once granted to the Oregon and California Railroad, were returned to federal ownership in 1916 and now cover about 2.5 million acres across 17 counties managed by the BLM. In the 1960s, annual timber harvests often topped 1 billion board feet, reaching a peak of 1.638 billion in 1964. Harvests dropped sharply in the 1990s after the northern spotted owl and marbled murrelet were listed as threatened, and the Northwest Forest Plan shifted management toward conservation.

In February 2026, Trump’s BLM announced plans to revise management for these lands, aiming to bring timber production back to pre-1990 clear-cutting levels. The proposal covers all 2.5 million acres across 17 counties, including well-known areas such as the Sandy River watershed, North Fork Clackamas, the Valley of the Giants, the Upper Molalla River, and Alsea Falls. Since 2000, harvests have ranged from 45 to 275 million board feet per year. The new plan would raise that to 1 billion board feet.

The public comment period closed March 23, 2026; a record of decision is tentatively scheduled for February 12, 2027. That timeline could outlast the current administration, but the proposal, once formally proposed, would constrain future management options.  The idea is to strip away environmental protections for salmon and drinking water and fire and fuels to maximize timber extraction across public lands in western Oregon, said George Sexton, conservation director for KS Wild.

The Roadless Rule and the Bigger Picture

The BLM proposal is part of a larger rollback. In August 2025, USDA Secretary Brooke Rollins announced that the Trump administration plans to end the 2001 Roadless Rule. This Clinton-era rule bans road building, logging, and mining on about 58 million acres of federal forest land, including 2 million acres in Oregon. Rollins described the rule as burdensome, outdated, and one-size-fits-all.

Environmental groups immediately promised litigation. “If the Trump administration actually revokes the roadless rule, we will see them in court,” said  Earthjustice attorney Drew Caputo. Oregon Rep. Andrea Salinas introduced the Roadless Area Conservation Act in June 2025 to codify the rule into law, drawing nearly 50 House cosponsors.

In early 2025, Trump signed two executive orders telling agencies to speed up timber sales and avoid environmental reviews for more than 400 threatened and endangered species, such as wild salmon, marbled murrelets, and spotted owls. A Republican budget bill passed in the Senate also required the Forest Service to increase timber production by at least 250 million board feet each year and to sign 20-year logging contracts, regardless of the environmental impact.

Worth More Standing

There is a real economic case for logging, but it has limits. Many Oregon counties have struggled financially since logging declined in the 1990s, and timber revenue is important for rural budgets. However, industry representatives admit that most mills can no longer handle large old-growth logs. Technology now focuses on smaller and medium-sized wood, according to Amanda Sullivan-Astor of the Associated Oregon Loggers. The economic setup for harvesting old-growth trees is missing, even before considering legal challenges that could delay any plans for years.

The value of old-growth forests goes far beyond timber, and this is not reflected in timber prices. These forests support a huge variety of life, including not just spotted owls and murrelets, but also salmon, elk, bears, rare fungi, and plants that cannot survive even in plantations of the same species. Old-growth forests help manage water, protect drinking supplies, prevent erosion and landslides, and shield nearby communities from wildfires. This is the opposite of what the BLM claims clearcutting would do. In fact, the BLM’s own research has shown that clearcutting old-growth rainforests actually increases fire risk.

The fungal networks under the forest floor are getting more attention from scientists and in popular books. These networks add another layer of complexity that cannot be replaced. Scientists are still learning how trees use these fungal connections to share nutrients and chemical signals over many years. These systems take centuries to form and cannot be recreated in plantations.

Any unknown benefits that old-growth forests might offer will be lost forever, all for about $1,000 per centuries-old tree, the current price for old-growth timber.

What You Can Do

The BLM’s process for revising O&C Lands management is still ongoing. Although the public comment period ended in March 2026, the Environmental Impact Statement process is still underway, and legal challenges are almost certain. Here are some ways you can stay involved:

• Follow Oregon Wild, Cascadia Wildlands, and Earthjustice for updates on litigation and comment opportunities.
• Contact your federal representatives about the Roadless Area Conservation Act and urge them to cosponsor legislation making the Roadless Rule permanent law.
• Support the Old-Growth Forest Network, which works to designate protected native forests in every county in the U.S.
• Visit and spend time in public lands. Your presence and spending as a visitor help show the value of forests beyond timber, which is important for land use planning.
• If you live in a county with O&C Lands, go to local commissioner meetings where timber revenue is being discussed. While logging does bring in money, there are also strong financial reasons to keep forests intact, protect clean water, and support outdoor tourism.

Related Reading

Ecosystem Services: Nature’s Gifts That Help Us Thrive

Restore Our Earth With Reforestation

Native Wisdom in Land Management

Biochar Was a Billion-Ton Dream. The Reality Is More Complicated.

Editor’s Note: This article was originally published by Gemma Alexander on August 9, 2021, and was substantively updated in April 2026.

The post Worth More Standing — The Value of Old-Growth Forests appeared first on Earth911.