By Mari Hansen 
The Amazon rainforest has always seemed to last forever. It’s easy to think the forest will outlive everything else when you stand beneath its imposing canopy, where kapok trees rise like cathedral pillars. Something always seems to be growing somewhere deep in the shade, and the air is heavy, humming with insects and far-off bird calls. However, that sense of permanence has begun to feel brittle over the past ten years.
Small items started to vanish first in some parts of the northwest Amazon. The shy forest rodent known as the green acouchi, which used to bury nuts all over the forest floor, started to become oddly difficult to locate. Another peaceful forest gardener, the Northern Amazon red squirrel, also vanished from sight. In the past, these creatures dispersed seeds all over the place to aid in the growth of new trees. Something changes subtly without them. Forests may become aware of these absences long before people do.
| Category | Information |
|---|---|
| Ecosystem | Amazon Rainforest |
| Location | South America, spanning Brazil, Peru, Colombia, Ecuador, Bolivia, Venezuela, Guyana, Suriname, and French Guiana |
| Size | About 6 million square kilometers |
| Biodiversity | Over 15,000 tree species and roughly 10% of Earth’s terrestrial biodiversity |
| Human Population | More than 40 million people, including 2.2 million Indigenous people across 300+ ethnic groups |
| Climate Role | Stores carbon equal to 15–20 years of global CO₂ emissions |
| Current Concern | Parts of the forest are shifting from carbon sink to carbon emitter |
| Major Threats | Deforestation, fires, drought, climate change, mining, agriculture |
| Critical Threshold | Estimated tipping point at 20–25% deforestation or 2–4°C global warming |
| Reference | https://www.nature.com/articles/s41586-024-07037-4 |
Similar changes have been quietly noted by indigenous communities in Peru and Ecuador. Seasons that no longer behave appropriately are discussed by elders. Every August, cicadas would erupt in a deafening chorus, signaling the start of the dry season. The sound now comes either late or not at all. Sometimes honey harvests that used to fill buckets only yield a spoonful. The uneasiness in those stories is difficult to ignore.
Similar findings are made by scientists analyzing satellite data, albeit in colder terms. Deforestation has already destroyed about 17% of the Amazon, and drought, fire, and logging have weakened a significant portion of it. The forest absorbed enormous amounts of carbon dioxide and served as one of Earth’s major climate stabilizers for decades. The forest is now releasing more carbon than it is absorbing in some areas.
There is an odd irony to that change. The Amazon was referred to as “the lungs of the Earth” for many years. However, the lungs are only beneficial if they take in more air than they expel.
The concept of a climate tipping point may seem theoretical, almost scholarly. Although climate scientists had been using the term for a long time, it became well-known following Malcolm Gladwell’s 2000 book. To put it simply, a tipping point is the point at which a system transforms into something different due to excessive pressure. Imagine a canoe that is leaning over the water more and more. Eventually, a small movement completes the task. The Amazon may be getting close to that point, according to researchers.
Deforestation and rising temperatures combine to create a feedback loop that is hard to break once it starts. Through transpiration, trees release water vapor into the atmosphere, producing rain that keeps the forest alive. Rainfall patterns shift when trees disappear. The length of dry seasons increases. It is easier for fires to spread. More trees perish. The process starts to feed itself.
In some parts of the Amazon, dry-season temperatures are already roughly 2°C higher than they were forty years ago, according to satellite measurements. By the middle of the century, some areas might warm by an additional two to four degrees if current trends continue. The resilience of the forest, the quiet strength that allowed it to endure for millions of years, seems to be gradually eroding as these numbers mount.
However, the harm is not dispersed equally. The vast majority of deforestation occurs in Brazil’s share of the Amazon. There alone, over 71 million hectares of forest were cleared between 1985 and 2022. It’s hard to visualize the scale. It’s bigger than Spain.
Another pattern appears elsewhere. Deforestation rates sharply decline in areas under the control of Indigenous communities. Dense forests still exist. Carbon emissions continue to decline. There is still biodiversity.
Treating that fact as a hopeful conclusion is tempting. However, things are still unclear. Global greenhouse emissions could push the Amazon over a critical threshold even if all deforestation stopped tomorrow. According to climate models, deforestation of between 20% and 25% may cause widespread dieback, turning a significant amount of rainforest into savanna. The unsettling fact is that humanity is already on the verge of crossing that line.
According to current estimates, drought, heat, and land clearance may cause ecosystem changes in 10% to 47% of the Amazon by 2050. Degraded woodland may develop from some forests. Others might give way to grasslands. None of those results resemble the forest that exists today at all.
The change doesn’t always seem noticeable when you stand in the Amazon today. The forest continues to reach the horizon indefinitely. Rivers still curl through the trees like dark ribbons. However, there are moments when the quiet seems louder than it used to.
That might be the disturbing reality of tipping points. They don’t use a single dramatic moment to introduce themselves. They come gradually, taking the form of minor alterations, such as an animal going missing, a quiet season, or a forest breathing slightly differently. Additionally, the system might be operating independently by the time the change is noticeable.