Members of Smallholder Farmer Alliance in Haiti with first harvest of regenerative cotton. Credit: Thomas Norielle/SFA
By Hugh Locke
NEW YORK, Oct 2 2026 (IPS)
In November 1952, the United States detonated the world’s first thermonuclear device at Enewetak Atoll in the Marshall Islands. The test, code-named Ivy Mike, erased the island of Elugelab and scattered a signature of plutonium across the planet that remains in lake beds, ice sheets and ocean sediments today.
This month, scientists writing in Nature Reviews Earth & Environment proposed this moment as the start of the Anthropocene, a geological epoch shaped by human activity. Co-author Victor Galaz of the Stockholm Resilience Centre called the date “a tragic reminder of the highly unjust impacts of planetary change.”
I take that proposal seriously, because it carries hope as well as warning, and it connects to the argument of my new book, Whole Earth Farming.
Hugh Locke
A few years ago I proposed the word epoch to describe the period we are living through. It has two meanings. A historical epoch is a period set off by significant change, such as the Renaissance. A geological epoch is defined by rock layers and usually spans millions of years, though the current Holocene began only about 11,700 years ago. The two have never arrived together in human history. I believe they are arriving together now.The idea of the Anthropocene was popularized in 2000 by Nobel laureate Paul Crutzen. In 2020, a paper in Nature found that human-made materials now outweigh all living things on Earth. Yet in 2024, the International Union of Geological Sciences declined to formally recognize the Anthropocene. Officially, we are still in the Holocene.
The new paper, led by Jan Zalasiewicz, Colin Waters and Martin J. Head, draws on 12 stratigraphic records worldwide and identifies the 1952 rise in plutonium as the clearest marker of the new epoch. Whatever the geologists decide, the substance stands: human beings have become a force of planetary consequence.
Nobody set out to launch a new geological epoch. The Anthropocene is the unintended result of billions of decisions about energy, industry, consumption and land use. That is sobering. It is also, strangely, encouraging.
If humanity can alter the chemistry of the atmosphere without meaning to, then we are clearly capable of transformation at planetary scale. The only question is whether we can do it on purpose, in a direction that heals rather than harms.
Galaz’s point about injustice matters too. The Marshall Islanders had no say in what happened at Enewetak, yet bore its consequences. Those who contributed least to planetary change are often hit hardest, among them the world’s smallholder farmers. Any real transformation must put them at the center.
There are some 475 million smallholder farming families in the world, roughly one quarter of humanity, and yet they are largely absent from conversations about the future of food and climate.
Whole Earth Farming argues that these families could lead an agricultural revolution. It draws on 21 farmer stories from 18 countries and on decades of work, including in Haiti, where I co-founded the Smallholder Farmers Alliance. Its central argument is that if half the world’s smallholders adopted regenerative practices, they could produce all the additional food needed by 2050 while reducing agriculture’s net climate impact.
There is a fitting symmetry here. The Holocene began with a climate stable enough for humans to start farming. The Anthropocene could likewise coincide with a new global agricultural movement, one that restores the land rather than depleting it.
The changes of the 1950s spread without any global plan, as new tools and habits moved from place to place until they gathered their own momentum. A regenerative transformation can spread the same way: through practices that work, farmers who see them working on a neighbor’s land, and the support to adopt them.
The farmers in the book are already rebuilding soil, planting trees alongside crops and restoring water cycles. What they lack is not ingenuity but recognition, investment and connection to one another.
I once suggested that the historical epoch now taking shape will one day be named for the moment we began to reorganize ourselves around the principle of oneness. I still believe that.
The Anthropocene is, in one sense, the geological record of our failure to see ourselves as one people sharing one planet. A regenerative transformation led by smallholders would be the opposite: a practical expression of oneness, rooted in the recognition that the health of the land, the wellbeing of the farmer and the future of humanity are inseparable.
If a single morning in 1952 can mark a new chapter in the Earth’s geological history, then surely the choices of hundreds of millions of farming families can mark a new chapter in human history. We have already proven that we can change the planet. Now it is time to prove that we can do so with intention, with justice, and with the whole Earth in mind.
Hugh Locke is president and co-founder of the Smallholder Farmers Alliance, president of the Impact Farming Foundation and author of Whole Earth Farming: Smallholders and the Great Regenerative Transformation (George Ronald Publisher, 2026).
IPS UN Bureau
Excerpt:
What a 1952 bomb test tells us about the power of 475 million farming familiesWhen nurses are overworked, unheard or afraid to speak up, safety, dignity, learning and retention all suffer. Fernando Zhiminaicela / Pixabay
By External Source
KUALA LUMPUR, Oct 1 2026 (IPS)
Nurses are often called the backbone of the health system. We praise their compassion, commitment and resilience. On Nurses’ Day we thank them. During emergencies and crises, we call them heroes. But there is a harder question Malaysia, like most countries around the world, needs to ask more seriously: what happens when the people who care for everyone else are not safe, supported or respected at work?
This question is not only about patient safety. It is first about nurses’ own rights, dignity and wellbeing. A safe and healthy working environment is recognised by the ILO as a fundamental principle and right at work.
Nurses deserve safe workplaces not only because patients depend on them, but because no worker should be expected to absorb abuse, bullying or harassment as part of the job.
The health and care sector is highly feminised, with women making up around 70% of the global workforce. This is even more pronounced in nursing, where women account for 85% of the workforce, according to WHO’s 2025 State of the World’s Nursing report. This means workplace violence against nurses is not only an occupational safety concern. It is also a gendered issue.
As a female-dominated profession, nursing is often positioned lower in hierarchical health systems, where authority is unevenly distributed. Gendered assumptions - such as women being “naturally caring,” patient or obedient - can normalise mistreatment, silence complaints and discourage reporting
As a female-dominated profession, nursing is often positioned lower in hierarchical health systems, where authority is unevenly distributed. Gendered assumptions – such as women being “naturally caring,” patient or obedient – can normalise mistreatment, silence complaints and discourage reporting.
Because nurses are also frontline caregivers, they are exposed to aggression from patients, families and colleagues. Gender therefore shapes both how violence is experienced and how seriously it is taken.
For many nurses and frontline health workers, workplace violence extends beyond physical assault. It involves verbal abuse, bullying, humiliation, intimidation, sexual harassment, disrespectful treatment, harsh hierarchy and psychological pressure.
These forms of violence may not always leave visible injuries. But they can leave deep marks on confidence, mental health, family life, professional motivation and the decision to stay in the nursing profession.
Studies from several Malaysian healthcare settings show that workplace violence is more common than we may think across hospitals, emergency departments and primary healthcare facilities.
A study conducted among 90 nurses in Kuala Lumpur found that more than 90% had experienced verbal abuse. Similarly, a survey of 838 primary healthcare workers in Selangor reported that 68.5% had experienced workplace violence, with verbal abuse the most common form and nurses the most affected professional group. In Melaka, research among 455 female registered nurses found that 51.2% had experienced sexual harassment, most commonly verbal, but also visual, psychological, non-verbal and physical. Nearly three-quarters of those affected reported psychological effects.
Behind each of these figures is a person trying to do their job while staying calm, professional and compassionate. A nurse explaining treatment to an anxious family. A frontline worker managing a crowded clinic. A junior staff member afraid to speak up. A mother finishing a night shift and going home to another set of care responsibilities. These numbers should not be read as statistics alone. Rather, they are warning signs of workplace systems and cultures and the need for stronger prevention, reporting and response mechanisms.
Malaysia already has important foundations in place. Existing occupational safety and health obligations, together with MOH guidance on workplace violence, provide a strong basis for prevention and response. The challenge now is to build on these measures and ensure they are visible, trusted and consistently implemented in hospitals, clinics and frontline services.
This concern was clearly articulated in a focus group discussion with nurses and frontline health workers in Sabah. Participants described workplace violence and bullying as part of a wider picture of pressure: too many patients, too few staff, missed breaks, unpaid or poorly compensated overtime, limited recognition, burnout and difficulty balancing shift work with family responsibilities.
One district clinic was described as seeing around 600 to 800 patients a day, with only a small number of frontline staff managing the flow. In hospital wards, nurses described caring for 10 to 20 patients and sometimes up to 25 patients alone. Staff often missed lunch breaks, stayed beyond official hours to complete patient care and documentation and sometimes worked while sick because no one else was available to replace them. Heavy documentation and uneven digital systems added another layer of pressure.
In the same Sabah discussion, one participant described bullying as something that particularly affects newcomers and junior staff. Another explained that many young workers feel they have little choice but to endure difficult treatment because they need the job. As one participant put it, many feel they must “just bear with it” because speaking up can feel risky.
The human cost also reaches beyond the workplace. One nurse described leaving for work while her children were still sleeping and returning home when they were already asleep again. This is not only a personal story. It is a policy issue. When nurses are overworked, unheard or afraid to speak up, safety, dignity, learning and retention all suffer.
This is why workplace violence must be discussed together with Malaysia’s nursing shortages, retention concerns and migration of nurses. Nurses do not leave only because of salary, although salary and fair compensation matter greatly. They also leave when they feel unsafe, unheard, unsupported and unable to grow.
When nurses feel unable to speak up, silence becomes part of the system. When junior staff are humiliated instead of mentored, learning suffers. When bullying becomes normalised, workers may begin to see leaving as the only realistic option. For a mostly female workforce, these pressures do not affect nurses alone. They also affect families, communities and how society values care work.
Training more nurses will not solve the problem if the working environment pushes nurses away. The real question is not only how we produce more nurses, but also how we ensure that nurses can stay, work safely and be treated with dignity. A serious response to workplace violence in healthcare should include several practical steps.
First, nurses should have a stronger voice in decisions that affect their work. Frontline nurses, nursing leaders, professional bodies and unions should be meaningfully involved in shaping policies on staffing, workplace safety, reporting systems, mental health support, digitalisation and service delivery. Collective representation matters because individual nurses should not have to carry the burden of speaking up alone.
Second, trusted systems for preventing, reporting and responding to workplace violence, bullying and harassment should continue to be strengthened. Nurses need to know they can safely report any kind of violence without fear of being ignored, blamed or punished. Too often, incidents go unreported because people do not believe anything will change. A safe workplace starts with systems that people trust.
Third, addressing staffing shortages and excessive workloads is also essential. When nurses are caring for too many patients, missing breaks and regularly staying late to finish their work, everyone pays the price. Safe staffing is not a luxury. It is essential for both patient care and health worker wellbeing.
Fourth, supporting nurses also means looking beyond individual resilience. Nurses need time to rest, supportive supervisors, access to mental health support and workplaces where people treat each other with respect. Supportive mentoring and teamwork can make a real difference – especially for junior staff and newcomers.
Finally, workplace safety needs to be considered alongside career development, fair compensation and better systems. Nurses need fair recognition for overtime and workload, opportunities for specialisation and higher education, and digital systems that reduce administrative burden rather than adding to it.
Ultimately, this is about recognising that nurses are not an endless resource. They are people, often women, who care for others every day while carrying their own pressures, responsibilities and challenges. Ensuring their safety, dignity and wellbeing is not only the right thing to do. It is a smart investment in a stronger and more resilient health system.
Malaysia has an opportunity to build on the measures already in place and further strengthen workplace safety, staffing, support and working conditions. Everywhere in the world, health systems depend on nurses at every stage of life – from birth to old age, from routine check-ups to medical emergencies. Malaysia is no exception.
Safe patients need safe nurses. And safe nurses need workplaces where respect, dignity and rights are non-negotiable.
By Sergo Chikhladze, Johanna Riha, Sapna Mishra (UNU Global health) and Nicholas Hulus (Sabah Medical Services Union (SMSU))