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Methane, a potent greenhouse gas, is responsible for about 30% of the global temperature increase observed since the industrial revolution.
China accounts for more than 10% of annual global human methane emissions, in large part due to unintended releases – known as “fugitive” emissions – from its energy sector.
In a recently published study, we take a closer look at China’s coal-mine methane (CMM) emissions, which account for roughly 40% of the nation’s total methane emissions.
Leveraging newly collected, mine-specific data, we develop granular estimates of CMM emissions in China since 2000.
These estimates reveal that China’s coal production is shifting towards provinces with lower-emission mines.
In addition, there has been a significant increase in the capturing of methane from coal mines for energy use.
Together, these developments have helped to limit the rise of CMM emissions, despite an overall increase in coal production since 2016.
Mine data
To estimate CMM emissions at a granular level, we needed to understand how emissions vary from one mine to the next across China.
To do this, we made use of existing safety regulations in China. As methane is a highly flammable gas, the Chinese government enforces mandatory methane gas level identification in coal mines and implements safety regulations accordingly.
Coal mines are categorised based on their “methane emission factors”, the volume of methane emitted per tonne of coal produced.
At one end are low-gas mines, with an emissions factor of less than 10 cubic metres (m3) of methane emitted per tonne of coal. At the other are high-gas mines, at more than 10m3 of methane emitted per tonne. Beyond this are “outburst” mines, which are those that have experienced coal seam or gas outburst incidents.
To get a clearer sense of how much low-gas, high-gas and outburst mines emit in practice, we built a model of the relationship between gas levels and emission factors, using a 2011 database of all Chinese coal mines.
This database includes information on methane gas levels, mine-specific emission factors, coalbed depth, mine ownership and production capacity. We further validated this relationship with newly collected coal mine data from 2023, published by Chinese local governments.
The results show that the distribution of emission factors, as shown in the figure below, varies significantly with gas level.
The top row in the figure below shows the emissions factors for a range of mines in 2011 classed as low-gas (top left, green), high-gas (top centre, pink) or outburst (top right, red). The dashed vertical lines show the central estimate for each type, ranging from 4.1m3 per tonne for low-gas mines through to 19.9m3/tonne for high-gas and 28.4m3/tonne for outburst mines.
The bottom row shows the same metrics based on the more recent 2023 data.
The strong correlation shown in the data above suggests that gas level is a crucial indicator of how much methane a coal mine emits.
In contrast, our analysis reveals no significant correlation between how much a coal mine emits and either coal mine depth or ownership.
Comparing the distributions for the same gas levels between 2011 and 2023 also shows that the link between gas levels and methane emissions remains fairly constant over time.
Therefore, the gas level of a mine can reliably serve as a proxy for its methane emissions per tonne of production, when direct measurements are unavailable.
Provincial shift
To estimate CMM emissions for each province in China, we assumed that the percentage of coal produced by mines of each gas level remains roughly constant as in 2011.
For instance, if 20% of Guizhou’s coal production in 2011 came from low-gas mines, we maintained this percentage for subsequent years.
We then calculated CMM emissions by multiplying provincial-level production-weighted emission factors by total coal production.
The line chart below illustrates our estimated CMM emissions since 2000.
The raw estimates, depicted by the lower grey dashed line, show a rapid increase in CMM emissions from approximately 5m tonnes in 2000 to nearly 21m tonnes in 2013.
This was followed by a decrease to 15m tonnes in 2016 and a subsequent rebound to 24m tonnes in 2023.
The decline between 2013 and 2016 aligns with a period of reduced coal production in China.
On the chart, the upper grey line represents CMM emissions when abandoned coal mines are included.
These mines, which continue to release methane long after operations cease, were responsible for 4.8m tonnes of methane emissions in 2020, contributing approximately 25% to the total CMM emissions.
Meanwhile, the blue line shows CMM emissions when the capture and use of methane in energy supply is taken into consideration.
National methane utilisation increased from 1.2m tonnes in 2008 to 3.7m tonnes in 2020, resulting in a reduction of total emissions by 5% and 17%, respectively.
It is noteworthy that CMM emissions did not immediately rebound after 2016, despite a reported increase in coal production by China’s National Bureau of Statistics.
This delay can likely be attributed to shifts in production locations to lower-emissions provinces, the closure of high-emissions mines and the adoption of technologies for capturing and using methane that effectively mitigate emissions.
The figure below compares CMM emissions across provinces in 2012 and 2021, two years with nearly identical total coal production levels.
Overall, changes in methane emissions closely mirrored shifts in where the coal was being mined. There is a clear geographic trend: production and emissions surged in northern and north-western regions such as Xinjiang, Shaanxi and especially Shanxi.
In fact, Shanxi alone emitted nearly 8m tonnes of coal-mine methane in 2021, making up roughly half of China’s total CMM emissions.
Meanwhile, both production and emissions dropped in south-western provinces, including Guizhou, Sichuan and Yunnan.
The figure shows that China’s coal production has switched from regions in the south-west where emissions per unit of coal production are relatively high, to lower-emission areas in the north and north-west. At the same time, total production levels have stayed similar, at just over 4bn tonnes in both 2012 and 2021.
Tackling methane
China has signalled its intention to address methane emissions, with key tasks for the next five years outlined in a national methane action plan published in 2023.
The broad trends of CMM emissions observed in this study will likely continue in China.
Small-scale coal mines – those producing less than 300,000 tonnes of coal per year – are at risk of closing or being consolidated, while increased production from large-scale, lower-emission mines in Xinjiang and Inner Mongolia will likely lead to an overall reduction in national production-weighted emission factors.
(This reduction in the rate of emissions per unit of coal production does not guarantee a reduction in methane emissions overall, as several analyses show this also depends on the total coal output. Even following closures, methane may still leak from abandoned mines.)
However, this regional shift in coal production – and, thus, methane emissions – could also help to address public health concerns from pollution associated with the gas.
The Chinese government has also introduced significant changes in policy on the capturing and use of methane gas. The Ministry of Ecology and Environment recently revised coal-mine methane standardsto mandate the capture and use of methane with concentrations above 8%, down from a previous 30%.
In addition, the government has a programme providing financial incentives for capturing methane and reducing CMM emissions.
Together, these measures could help China achieve its short- and medium-run methane capture and use goals set by the methane action plan.
The post Guest post: How changes to coal mining have affected China’s methane emissions appeared first on Carbon Brief.
Guest post: How changes to coal mining have affected China’s methane emissions
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An older teaching about land acknowledgement
As I have come to understand the spirit and intention of land acknowledgement, I often return to fond memories of my grandmother and her words of wisdom. She taught that the health of the places we call home comes first, because the wellbeing of the people depends on it.
In her teaching, land acknowledgement began with the land. Long before it became a paragraph read at the start of a meeting, it was a way of recognizing a homeland: its waters, its species, its seasons, and the spirit that revealed whether the place was well.
Her teaching echoes a practice found across many Indigenous Nations. Haudenosaunee gatherings, for example, have long opened with the Ohén:ton Karihwatéhkwen, the Thanksgiving Address, often translated as “the words that come before all else.” The speaker greets and gives thanks to the people, the earth, the waters, the plants, the animals, the winds, the sun, the moon and the stars. Only after everything that sustains life has been acknowledged does the gathering turn to its own business.
That order changes what an acknowledgement is for. Its purpose was to share the story of a place with neighbours and to draw them into the work of tending it. People entered the story second, as the ones responsible for what had just been named.
Understood this way, an acknowledgement does more than open a meeting. It asks us to reconsider where we stand, and what we owe the ground beneath us.
Nations among nations
In her teaching, people are one nation among many. The salmon are a nation. So are the cedars, the bison, the medicine plants, and the pollinators. Each belongs to a place, carries its own responsibilities, and offers gifts no other nation can give.
This idea of kinship runs through many Indigenous philosophies. The phrase “all my relations,” heard in ceremonies and gatherings across Turtle Island, is a reminder that family extends beyond people to the animals, plants, waters and lands that make life possible. Some Indigenous languages carry the same understanding in their grammar, speaking of many plants, animals and natural forces as living beings rather than objects.
Sovereignty, understood through this relationship, is a kind of standing more than a form of control. Each nation belongs fully to its place and carries its share of that place’s life. No nation thrives alone, and none thrives by taking over the whole.
The land is also the source of instruction. Over generations, people watched how a river valley or a stretch of prairie kept itself well: who arrived when, who fed whom, and how much could be taken before the giving stopped. In my grandmother’s telling, those observations became instructions, and those instructions helped shape law and protocol. They guided when to harvest, where to camp, how to enter a neighbour’s territory, and what was owed in return.
Indigenous legal scholars today often describe this as law that comes from the land itself, learned by watching how living systems sustain one another. A plainer name for it is knowing how to live somewhere.
The host and the guest
One of the clearest teachings in this understanding of the world is the relationship between host and guest. My grandmother invited us to recognize that relationship in the lives of plants and animals.
A host prepares the place before anyone arrives. A beaver family dams a stream, and the pond becomes a home for fish, frogs, birds and plants. A fallen tree becomes a nurse log, feeding the next generation of seedlings as it returns to the soil.
A host offers first. A flowering plant sets out nectar. A berry bush ripens fruit. These provisions come in their own season, not whenever a visitor happens to want them.
A host also makes its presence known. Birdsong, scent and the marks left along a trail tell newcomers that a place is already inhabited. The visitor does not arrive in an empty world.
The guest has responsibilities too. A guest attends to the season and to what the place can offer. A guest does not assume that everything within reach is theirs to take. A guest leaves something that helps sustain the relationship.
A bee takes nectar and carries pollen. Read through this teaching, that exchange offers an image of visiting well: receiving a gift while helping the host continue its life.
Many Indigenous harvesting protocols carry the same ethic into daily practice: ask before taking, take only what is needed, offer thanks, and leave enough for others and for the plant or animal to recover.
None of this suggests that every relationship in nature is peaceful or generous. These are ways of seeing responsibilities that people can learn to carry.
Everyone is both
No being is only a host or only a guest.
A tree makes room for other life while depending on soil, water, sunlight, fungi, and relationships beyond itself. People, too, may welcome others into their homes while remaining dependent on the larger homeland that sustains them.
The distinction between host and guest is therefore about roles, not ranks. Everyone receives. Everyone has something to give.
The question is whether the exchange sustains the place.
A visitor who takes without restraint leaves less for those who come next. A host who neglects the place has less to offer. Both have responsibilities, and neither can fulfil them alone.
This is the heart of reciprocity, a principle found across Indigenous philosophies: relationships stay healthy when gifts move in both directions. The Haudenosaunee teaching of the seventh generation extends that exchange across time, asking that decisions made today leave the place well for those not yet born.
Mutual benefit begins here, with the recognition that different beings carry different gifts and obligations.
What people carry forward
My grandmother’s teaching connects these relationships to the ways people meet their neighbours.
The host prepares a place, offers food and rest, and explains where the visitor has arrived. The guest makes themselves known, explains why they have come, listens to the terms of the visit, and brings something in return. The gift may be material. It may also be labour, knowledge, news, or a commitment to help.
Nations around the Great Lakes carried this ethic into treaty. The Dish with One Spoon, an agreement among the Haudenosaunee, Anishinaabe and allied Nations, describes shared hunting grounds as a single dish. Everyone eats from it with one spoon, takes only what they need, leaves enough for others, and keeps the dish clean. The Two Row Wampum, between the Haudenosaunee and European newcomers, shows two vessels travelling side by side on the same river, each keeping its own ways and neither steering the other.
In this understanding, acknowledgement is more than naming the people associated with a territory. It is learning enough about a homeland to behave responsibly within it.
Whose home is this? What sustains it? What laws and agreements guide our presence? What can we receive, and what must we return?
These questions make acknowledgement a relationship rather than a recital.
They also make it diplomatic. A guest who recognizes the host’s homeland recognizes that they have entered a place with its own relationships and responsibilities. A host who welcomes the guest makes room for an encounter governed by those relationships.
Neither arrives without standing. Neither arrives without obligations.
Beginning with place
I write from the shores of the Bay of Quinte. Here, the teaching asks me to begin with the water, the shoreline, and the life they sustain. Before I describe myself, I must attend to where I am.
That does not make people or history less important. It places them within the homeland that gives them meaning. The people, their laws, their agreements, and their responsibilities all belong to the place.
In a time of longer fire seasons, troubled waters, and uncertainty about what the next season will bring, this teaching asks something difficult and useful of us: pay attention before you speak.
An acknowledgement cannot tell the story of a place if the speaker has stopped noticing it.
The land came first. Beginning there again means learning to name what sustains us, and accepting that what sustains us also asks something of us.
By Rye Karonhiowanen Barberstock
Photo by Andrik Langfield on Unsplash
The post The Land Came First appeared first on Indigenous Climate Hub.
Carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions from fossil fuels and cement are projected to fall by around 0.4% in 2026 to 38.2bn tonnes of CO2 (GtCO2), according to new figures from the Global Carbon Project.
This guest post is by:
- Dr Zeke Hausfather, Carbon Brief’s climate science contributor
- Prof Pierre Friedlingstein, chair of mathematical modelling of climate systems at the University of Exeter and part of the Global Carbon Project team.
Carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions from fossil fuels and cement are projected to fall by around 0.4% in 2026 to 38.2bn tonnes of CO2 (GtCO2), according to new figures from the Global Carbon Project.
The 21st edition of the annual “global carbon budget” report, published today, says that this small decline is largely due to a 1.9% drop in emissions from oil and the energy shock triggered by the Iran conflict and the closure of the strait of Hormuz.
Emissions from coal continue to increase slightly.
The Global Carbon Project’s projections for fossil fuel and cement CO2 emissions in 2026 are preliminary, with a range that spans a fall of -1.5% to a rise of +0.6%.
This means a small increase in emissions can not be ruled out.
Emissions from land-use change, such as deforestation, are projected to rise in 2026.
This is primarily driven by peat fires and forest degradation in south-east Asia and is linked to the development of a strong El Niño event this year.
As a result, total CO2 emissions from fossil fuels and land use are projected to reach a record high of 43.3GtCO2 in 2026 – marginally above 42.8GtCO2 in 2025.
Research published alongside the report by the same team in Nature Climate Change finds that the growth in solar, wind and electric vehicles (EVs) now offsets around two-thirds of the emissions that would otherwise come from rising energy demand.
However, the deployment of these technologies is not yet enough to push global emissions into a sustained decline, according to the study.
The 2026 global carbon budget report also estimates that:
- Fossil emissions are projected to fall in China (-0.9%), the US (-1.3%) and the EU (-1.5%) in 2026, but rise by 4.4% in India.
- Oil emissions are projected to fall in every major region, with the largest drop in China (-4.6%).
- Land-use emissions averaged 4.9GtCO2 per year over 2016-25, around 21% lower than the decade before.
- Total CO2 emissions (fossil and land-use) grew by an average 0.3% per year over the past decade (2016-25), compared with 1.7% per year over the decade before.
- The remaining carbon budget to limit warming to 1.5C is 150GtCO2, or less than four years of current emissions.
- The land sink in 2025 was the highest on record, rebounding after being weakened during the 2023-24 El Niño. The current El Niño is expected to weaken the land sink in 2027.
- The concentration of CO2 in the atmosphere is set to reach 427.7 parts per million (ppm) in 2026, 54% above pre-industrial levels.
(For more on previous editions of the Global Carbon Project’s annual report, see Carbon Brief’s coverage in 2025, 2024, 2023 and 2022.)
Total emissions edge up as land-use emissions rise
Total global CO2 emissions, which combines fossil fuels and land-use change, are projected to reach a record high of 43.3GtCO2 in 2026, up from 42.8GtCO2 in 2025.
The increase in 2026 comes entirely from a projected rise in land-use emissions, which are more challenging to estimate than fossil emissions.
(The global carbon budget groups emissions from fossil fuels and cement production as “fossil emissions”. Carbon Brief follows this convention throughout this piece.)
If land-use emissions had stayed at 2025 levels, total emissions would have fallen slightly in 2026 to around 42.6GtCO2.
Each edition of the global carbon budget updates the historical record as new data and methods become available. The chart below shows total emissions in this year’s budget compared with the five previous editions.