23 September 2025
Environment / Climate emergency
Yunnan, China, is one of the 34 most species-rich and threatened biodiversity hotspots in the world. The "Three Parallel Rivers" area (Lancang, Nu and Jinsha Rivers) is China's biological gene pool and has been marked as a Red Key Protected Area. It is the main corridor and refuge for subtropical biological species travelling from north to south, and is the richest area of biological communities in Eurasia. At the same time, it is the settlement of 16 ethnic groups, multi-ethnicity, multi-language, a variety of religious beliefs and customs coexist here. In addition, it is also home to three giant polymetallic complex mineralisation belts, which contain a large amount of mineral resources. So this region is characterised by multiple species, multiple ethnic groups and multiple minerals. At the same time it has its uniqueness and vulnerability, as it faces the conflict between ecosystems and resource exploitation. Since the 70's and 80's of the last century, logging, mining and hunting operations have supported the local economy. Even though logging and hunting have been restricted since 2003, when the Three Parallel Rivers area was inscribed on UNESCO's World Heritage List, the mining industry remains active. In particular, the exploration and development of mining resources has been unrelenting, especially with the demands of the electronics industry and competition from new energy sources. Ten years ago, the total output value of Yunnan's mining industry reached RMB 400 billion, and the "Three Parallel Rivers" region is the key to finding minerals. In the face of such huge benefits, are the side effects of the mining industry not worth mentioning? After all, Yunnan has been an important source of copper and silver since ancient times, so there is nothing new today？
The old tea-horse route is no more, and how can Yunnan, now a peripheral region far from the financial centre of China, catch the development train without a thriving business environment?
And how can the ethnic minority communities scattered across the mountains find ways to develop themselves while preserving their culture and language?
It seems that selling the resources in the mountains is a choice they have no choice but to make. This situation of being on the margins and having to rely on extractive resources for their survival is similar to the situation in South America. This is why artists from Central and South America, such as Renzo, Maya, Guely, Daniel, etc., focus their attention on the mines. It is the plight of their countries, and the voices of the people who are being swept away are being channelled through their work. In renzo's films, we can see the violence of the government's repression of the farmers on behalf of the mining companies, as well as the fervour and anger of the people's struggle. For their homes, for their fields, for whatever rights they care about. But I can't help but ask, how much of this conflict is caused by the unequal distribution of benefits? Would there have been protests if the farmers had been compensated enough so that they could no longer rely on their fields for their livelihoods?
In the Chinese context, the situation is different and things are not quite that black and white. In my research site, out of a policy of caring for ethnic minorities, the mining company paid huge dividends to the villagers in the mining area, which became the main income of the local villagers. The atmosphere became ambiguous as the traditional narratives of the abusers and the resisters sided together as gold diggers. In the end, everyone jumps into the economic race, acquiescing to the gradual relegation of the mountain deities, once the protectors of the living, to commodities for sale.
When I asked the villagers in the mining area, "Won't the mountain god punish you for leasing the mountain to the mining company?" he replied, "No, the mountain god will not punish you. He replied, "No, the mountain god will only punish those who directly harm it, and it will not know about the lease".
This self-deceiving answer seems ironic, but we can't ignore the local people's quest for a better life and look at their choices with an irresponsible attitude. So is it possible for environmental justice and economic justice to be fulfilled together? And where is the mountain god?
Intriguingly, the mining company belonging to my research site, the Hongshan Mining Area (one of the eight mining areas in the Sanjiang Orogenic Belt, which is rich in copper ore), is called " Divine Mountain"（shenchuan）. Is it also seeking the blessing of the mountain deities? Or is it a provocation? In China, where pragmatism reigns supreme, and in a modern society dominated by scientific thinking, is it a pedantic step backward to talk about deities? Is it naive to re-enchant nature that has been datamined, quantified and sliced? Perhaps the deities have become electric currents travelling through cables and signals floating in the air, hiding their control over human destiny in the invisible. These unseen influences and relationships are what really determine our lives.
Has God really gone out of the mountains? Mining sites are likewise multi-species gathering places that appear to be spread out at different elevation zones on the mountain, but are closely related. Even off the mine site, the understory biome is keenly responsive to environmental changes. Wild fungi, for example, immobilise diffuse heavy metal particles in their bodies and act as a line of defence for symbiotic trees. And this divinity hidden under the earth still cannot escape being sold at a marked-up price, because the collection of expensive matsutake mushrooms, which is the second most important income after the dividends from the mines, is also a very important gold-digging activity. Unlike the mined ore, the matsutake mushroom is an active being. It is constantly on the move, playing hide-and-seek with the hunters, and its extreme sensitivity and vulnerability force the hunters to put aside their brutal stance and accommodate its characteristics. This strong uncontrollability is antidisciplinary, and people try their best to find ways to fit it into the assembly line of commodification, using measuring tape, logistics, and social networks. In this game of discipline and antidiscipline, perhaps it is only in the frustration of encountering the matsutake mushroom that the reverence for the "mountain god" can be reawakened.
The contradictions between interspecies relations, belief in gods and extractivism are all coalesced in the mountains of the Red Mountain mining area, and my aim is to look beyond human sight and language, to listen to non-human voices, and to open up new spaces in order to understand these unseen worlds. From the mushroom zygote, I have gained insights into the relationship between humans and forests under the commodity trade, from the heavy metal particles flowing in the mycelium, I have learnt about the flow of understory networks, and from the spores floating in the air, I have learnt about climate change and the interactions between species.
