OPINION: Why criticism of Human-Induced Regeneration carbon credits matters
Quantum Commodity Intelligence - Simon Campbell is a director at Renovo Ag, an independent advisory firm specialising in carbon and biodiversity credit project development, integrated with agriculture.
In April 2022, before the criticism of Australia's Human-Induced Regeneration (HIR) method for issuing carbon credits escalated, I found myself in Western New South Wales on a trip that would illustrate why these debates matter so deeply to those who live and work on the land.
Along with several friends, I was flying paramotors along the Darling River - from Bourke to Pooncarie and across to Lake Mungo. Paramotoring offers a rare vantage point: no cockpit or floor, just a seat and open sky. From a few hundred feet above, the Australian rangeland reveals itself in remarkable clarity.
At the time, I was the Regional Manager for the Western Region of the NSW Biodiversity Conservation Trust (BCT), helping landholders incorporate conservation agreements into their farm plans. Our team had been actively debating how grazing should be managed under these agreements — and how different grazing strategies impacted the landscape.
That debate crystallised for me during one of the flights. As I rounded a bend in the Darling-Barka, I noticed a stark contrast in the land below. One property featured a healthy Mulga forest with robust canopy cover; the next, heavily grazed by goats, showed barren ground and visibly thinned canopy.
From the air, it was evident: the difference was not marginal. The grazing pressure had resulted in what appeared to be at least a 50% reduction in canopy cover.
This observation directly challenges a core critique often made for the HIR methodology — that grazing does not significantly suppress vegetation long-term or reduce carbon stocks.
In these rangeland systems which have had introduced grazing for over 100 years, the impact of unmanaged total grazing pressure, especially from browsing animals, such as goats, in some circumstances is very visible. Browsing restricts natural regeneration, particularly Acacia aneura or Mulga as it is commonly known, preventing natural recruitment.
As a result the vegetation community is effectively thinned out over time. These field-level dynamics are not always captured in coarse satellite modelling, but they are deeply familiar to landholders managing these ecosystems daily.
Later that year, while working in Western Queensland, I led the design and registration of a HIR project on historically cleared land. This region — characterised by Mulga and Brigalow vegetation — Is commonly subjected to mechanical clearing on 10- to 15-year cycles, a practice known locally as "pulling".
It presents landholders with a dilemma: re-clearing sustains land values and production but raises environmental concerns and public scrutiny, while allowing vegetation to regrow reduces land valuation and carrying capacity substantially.
At this particular site, the project was designed to complement existing remnant vegetation for biodiversity outcomes, as well as balancing productive areas for grazing.
Mulga was regenerating at rates exceeding the HIR method requirements, and as part of the project the landholder voluntarily relinquished the right to continue to clear the land (Category X status in Queensland), effectively devaluing the land from an estimated AUD4,000 ($2,587) to AUD1,000 per hectare.
Despite this sacrifice and the project's ecological significance, their carbon credits are being sold at an approximate AUD15 discount compared with Environmental Plantings — a market disparity that raises legitimate questions.
This example, like many others, underscores why blanket critiques of the HIR method matter. Integrity in carbon markets is non-negotiable. Yes, there are projects that merit closer scrutiny — some will need to be re-stratified, corrected, or perhaps disqualified.
But sweeping generalisations risk undermining legitimate projects and penalising landholders who are doing the right thing: improving land management, allowing natural regeneration, and foregoing alternatives.
The current wave of criticism often paints with too broad a brush. It ignores the on-the-ground realities of Australia's rangelands and the nuanced trade-offs facing producers.
Many of these landholders are leading the way with innovative grazing strategies and long-term environmental commitments. They deserve a carbon market that recognises both their integrity and the ecological value of their work.
How do we build this into the next generation of carbon methods? Perhaps it's time to move forward with targeted reform and evidence-based evaluation — not sweeping dismissal.