The inaccessibility of African montane forests has hindered efforts to quantify the carbon stored by these ecosystems. A remarkable survey fills this knowledge gap, and highlights the need to preserve such forests.
In a paper in Nature, Cuni-Sanchez et al.1 report the assembly of a large database of tree inventories for 226 mature montane-forest plots in 12 African countries. The authors analyse the data to determine the amount of aboveground biomass and carbon stored in these highly diverse and threatened ecosystems. Their results suggest that African montane forests store more carbon than was previously thought, and the findings should help to guide efforts to conserve these ecosystems.
Cuni-Sanchez and colleagues measured trunk diameters and heights of the trees in plots, and identified the botanical species to deduce wood density — an approach that constitutes the gold standard for estimating the biomass, and thus the amount of carbon, contained per unit of forest area. This method involves the use of general statistical equations for describing tree form, called allometric models, and considers only the aboveground parts of trees. It therefore disregards several other pools of carbon, notably in the roots and soil. The overall approach might seem crude, but recognizing and measuring the many hundreds of tree species found on steep, cloud-shrouded slopes (Fig. 1), let alone the underground carbon, without visiting the sites, will long remain difficult, even with the best drones and satellite systems.
Anyone who has conducted field inventories in tropical mountains knows that measuring and identifying 72,336 trees, often just a few steps away from the void, is an amazing feat. For comparison, a previously reported study2 based its estimates of the carbon stored in montane African forests on as few as seven plots. The study also brings together contributions from numerous researchers and institutions, including many in Africa, to greatly increase the size of the data set, which is also a remarkable achievement. Even so, the total area of forest studied is less than 150 hectares, whereas African montane forest covers about 100,000 times that area, inevitably raising questions about how representative the inventory is.
Statisticians might raise their eyebrows at the sampling design. As is usually the case in meta-analyses, the data set was neither homogeneous (for example, there is a roughly tenfold variation in the plot sizes), nor were the sites selected at random. However, the authors did their best to rule out possible biases induced by sampling artefacts.
Cuni-Sanchez et al. chose not to discuss one tricky aspect of surveys of this sort (extensively discussed elsewhere2): how should the land area of a steep slope be measured? The authors followed standard practice, which is to measure the extent of forest plots and of land-cover types in reference to horizontal, planimetric areas (that is, the areas that would be represented on a 2D map, as if seen from the air). This tends to overestimate aboveground carbon because the sloped surface area is greater than that of the planimetric area — which means that the tree density of the planimetric area is higher than it is on the slope. By contrast, the use of planimetric areas underestimates total montane-forest area (by about 40%; see ref. 2). These two biases should roughly cancel each other out when estimating carbon stocks, or changes to stocks, for a region or country. But care should be taken not to combine data acquired using planimetric and non-planimetric areas in future meta-analyses, because the resulting estimates could end up well off the mark.
One might expect that trees in mature African montane forests would be, on average, shorter — and therefore store less carbon — than their lowland counterparts, because of their lower environmental temperatures and shallow soils, frequent landslides and strong winds. However, this is not what Cuni-Sanchez et al. report. Instead, they find that average aboveground carbon stocks are not significantly different from those of mature lowland forests. This contrasts with the situation in the neotropics and southeast Asia, where montane forests store, on average, less carbon than do lowland forests.
However, the new results fit with the 2016 discovery that the tallest African trees (81.5 metres) grow on Mount Kilimanjaro3, the highest mountain in Africa. African forests, in general, tend to contain fewer but larger-statured tree stands than does, for example, Amazonia4. The current study confirms that this peculiarity applies even at high altitudes.
The authors investigate several possible drivers for the variations in biomass observed at different sites in their study, including topography, climate, landslide hazard, and even the presence of elephants or certain conifers (Podocarpaceae), but were unable to identify any clear pattern. Many environmental, historical and biological effects probably interact, with each of these effects varying greatly in ways that are poorly captured by available data sets. These effects must therefore be disentangled before a predictive model of African montane carbon distribution can be developed.
Nevertheless, Cuni-Sanchez and colleagues’ study underlines a crucial message: African montane forests are immensely valuable, and not only because they host the source of the River Nile, mountain gorillas and ecosystems such as mysterious lichen-covered forests. They also store vast amounts of carbon, and thereby have a key role in tackling climate change. Of course, this immense intrinsic value does not preclude intense human exploitation of these ecosystems, which can lead to rapid degradation and deforestation. For instance, on the basis of satellite monitoring, Cuni-Sanchez and colleagues report that Mozambique lost nearly one-third of its montane forests between 2000 and 2018.
There is, however, the faint hope that putting a financial value on carbon, and the establishment of economic incentives to avoid deforestation in tropical countries, might help to check the flood of damage5. The aim is to reward African countries — for which montane forest sometimes constitutes the last remaining forests — for their conservation endeavours, and for renouncing efforts to access the timber and ore in these ecosystems, even when such resources are otherwise desperately lacking. By gathering the best-available data to provide precise, country-level estimates of average aboveground carbon content in African montane forests, Cuni-Sanchez and colleagues’ study will add weight to such efforts — not least because the new estimates are, on average, two-thirds higher than the values reported by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change6.
The next step should be to extend measurements in these forests, particularly by continuing to support national forest-inventory efforts. These inventories target all vegetation types, rather than just the most intact forests, and all carbon pools, using standardized protocols and systematic sampling methods. Remote sensors, both in the sky and in space, should also be used to fully map the detailed spatial variation of forest diversity, structure and dynamics. But there is no excuse for delaying policymaking — we already know enough to justify immediate decisive action to preserve yet another of Earth’s threatened treasures.
