81 While traveling recently in the thick of Brazil’s western Amazon, I spotted a flash of bright color amid the blackened stumps of a vast rainforest clear-cut. It was a painted jochi. This large, guinea pig-like rodent had wandered out into the charred wasteland from the tiny remnant of forest that remained its home. It poked around, looking for food, nibbling on what used to be underbrush. A macaw swooshed overhead, not a nest to be found. As I walked out into the clear-cut, a snake slithered across the hot, dark earth, searching for insects, of which there were none. For a moment, I imagined I was standing in empty sea, drained of its waters, and its creatures—dolphins, herring, rockfish—were helplessly flailing around. Global deforestation, happening at a rate of about 32 million acres a year, impacts not just flora and fauna, but people, too. Human cultural diversity, like species diversity, gets thicker around the equator. The destruction of forests like the Amazon contributes to what amounts to an ongoing genocide. The world’s indigenous people, once hunters and gatherers living in the heart of the rainforests, are becoming “environmental refugees,” pushed into conflict with their equally poor rural neighbors, or forced to migrate into Third World urban sprawl. There, they become “pavement Indians,” unable to assimilate, begging for scraps on street corners. These charcoal-black clear-cuts, like the one I walked through, are the literal “black holes” in the international system, the places where Pandora’s Box has been opened and apparently cannot be closed. Despite four decades of the international community grappling with deforestation—from the Club of Rome commissioned 1972 book “The Limits to Growth” (which warned that exponential growth negatively interacts with finite resources like forests) to the Brundtland Commission’s 1987 report “Our Common Future” (which declared that sustainable development must “meet the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs”) to the 1992 Earth Summit’s Convention on Biodiversity (which outlined, for the first time in international law, that conservation is “a common concern of humankind”)—one startling fact remains: today, an acre of rainforest is razed every two minutes. This is because none of these approaches, conferences, or international debates has adequately addressed the basic existence of a global market failure in the forestry sector. Despite the undeniable global benefit from preserving the forests, I have seen all too often farmers and local William Powers is a senior fellow at the World Policy Institute and the author of Whispering in the Giant’s Ear: A Frontline Chronicle from Bolivia’s War on Globalization (Bloomsbury, 2006) and the forthcoming Twelve by Twelve (New World Library, 2010).