Modern environmental science faces a curious paradox. We have more data than ever, but less certainty. For scientists, policymakers, and the public alike, the sheer volume of studies, each with its own assumptions, experimental conditions, and interpretations, can be overwhelming. Which studies are trustworthy? Which deserve more weight when making decisions about environmental safety? This question has haunted environmental toxicologists who were trying to determine whether pesticides were harming pollinators such as honeybees. Some studies could show significant impacts while others may show minimal effects. Such inconsistencies can fuel the debate over insecticides like neonicotinoids and lead to public confusion. To address this, Professor Keith Solomon, an environmental toxicologist at the University of Guelph, and colleagues set out to bring structure and clarity to the field. Their goal was not to silence debate, but to create a rigorous, transparent, and quantitative framework for evaluating scientific evidence. The result was a methodology called the Quantitative Weight of Evidence, or QWoE.

Soil is one of the most important resources on the planet. It grows our food, regulates water, supports ecosystems, and stores vast amounts of carbon. But it’s also incredibly complex, and surprisingly poorly understood. In Australia, Prof. Alex McBratney of the University of Sydney and his colleagues are changing that. By working with the Soil Security Assessment Framework, they’ve developed new tools and approaches that are helping to reshape how we measure and manage soil. From identifying similar soils and grouping them into categories, to estimating the monetary value of their ability to support food production, to surveying how people relate to the land beneath their feet, their work is creating a new language for talking about soil. Here, we explore the studies that put the framework into action and show why securing our soils is essential not just for farming and food security, but for ecosystems, economies, and climate resilience too.

Soil sits at the heart of nearly every major challenge humanity faces, from food, water and energy security to climate change, biodiversity loss, human health, and the delivery of vital ecosystem services. But, soil itself is increasingly under threat. As these pressures intensify, soil security has become a global priority in its own right. Yet despite its critical role, there are still gaps in how we understand, study and manage soil. Too often, soil research fails to reach the land managers, policymakers and communities who need it most. At the University of Sydney, Professor Alex McBratney and his colleagues are working to change that. They’re leading the development of the Soil Security Assessment Framework, a new approach that considers not just what soil is, but what it does, how it’s valued, and how it’s governed. By defining five interconnected dimensions of soil security, the team is helping to shape a more strategic, outcome-focused research agenda, designed to translate scientific insight into practical actions.

Across North America, the phrase “fuel management” is used almost as often as “climate change” when people talk about wildfires. The idea is simple: forests burn because they are full of fuel, including trees, shrubs, branches, and dried leaves. If you remove some of that material, you make it harder for a wildfire to spread. Provincial governments, towns, and even ski resorts such as Whistler in British Columbia, Canada have invested millions of dollars in “fuel thinning,” which involves sending crews into the woods to cut down trees and haul away brush. While fuel thinning feels like common sense, Dr. Rhonda Millikin, a scientist based in Whistler, and her colleagues have found that what seems like common sense in one type of forest can be dangerously misleading in another. Their research, recently published in the journal Fire, revealed that in Whistler’s coastal rainforests, dense, wet, and shaded ecosystems, fuel thinning often has the opposite effect of what is intended. Instead of making these forests safer, thinning makes them drier, windier, and hotter: exactly the conditions that help wildfires spread.