Soil samples from California grasslands await testing for carbon emissions.
Courtesy John Wick
Ohio State University soil scientist Rattan Lal says the agricultural soils of the world have the potential to soak up 13 percent of the carbon dioxide in the atmosphere today—the equivalent of scrubbing every ounce of CO2 released into the atmosphere since 1980. The claim is a bold one, but researchers around the globe are digging up evidence that even modest changes to farming and ranching can have a major impact on carbon sequestration.
Some growers have already embraced an approach known as regenerative agriculture, which aims to boost soil fertility and moisture retention through established practices such as composting, keeping fields planted year-round, reducing tillage, and increasing plant diversity. Since these strategies can also significantly increase the amount of carbon stored in the soil, some agricultural researchers are now building a case for their use in combating climate change. This year seven international conferences will examine soil’s potential to sequester greenhouse gases.
Lal first came to the idea of soil as a powerful carbon sink (pdf) not through an interest in climate change, but rather out of concern for the land itself and the people who depend on its productivity. While carbon-depleted soils tend to be dry and prone to erosion, carbon-rich soil is dark, crumbly, fertile, and moist. In the 1970s and 1980s, Lal was studying soils in Africa so devoid of organic matter that the ground had become like hardened cement. There he met Roger Ravelle, a pioneer in the study of global warming. When Lal made a despairing remark about the impoverished soil, Ravelle suggested that the carbon had moved into the atmosphere. “I told Roger I didn’t know where it had gone; I just wanted to put it back,” Lal recalls.
Ravelle was right. For millions of years, a natural partnership between plants and soil microbes has helped regulate carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere. During photosynthesis, plants absorb carbon dioxide from the air and transform it into sugars and other carbon-based molecules. Some of those carbon products transfer from the roots to symbiotic fungi and soil microbes, which store the carbon in the soil as humus.
The invention of agriculture some 10,000 years ago disrupted these ancient soil-building processes. When humans started draining and plowing up the natural topsoil for planting, they exposed the buried carbon to oxygen, creating carbon dioxide and releasing it into the air. Animal husbandry made things worse, as domesticated animals began grazing grasslands down to the earth. In places where the ground is bare—from overgrazing or from the common practice of leaving fields unplanted for part of the year—photosynthesis stops, and so does the storage of carbon in the soil. Lal calculates that land-use changes such as these have stripped 70 billion to 100 billion tons of carbon from the world’s soils and pumped it into the earth’s atmosphere, oceans, and lakes since the dawn of agriculture. Today agriculture and other land-use changes account for about a third of global greenhouse gas emissions.
To quantify soil’s carbon sequestration potential on agricultural lands, soil scientist Whendee Silver of the University of California, Berkeley, is conducting a first-of-its-kind study on a 539-acre cattle ranch near Nicasio, California. In a collaboration with ranchers and local and state land management organizations called the Marin Carbon Project, she and her students are testing the effects of compost created from city yard waste (such as leaves, branches, and lawn trimmings) and agricultural waste (including manure and cornstalks) on carbon storage.


