Amazonian Giant Trees: Between Fascination and Lack of Protection

It was the year 2022, and a plane flew over the Amazon. At the tips of its wings, electronic equipment mapped the vast green carpet. The goal? To locate the giants of the forest.

Scientists already had their suspicions. Years earlier, there had been signs that Brazil’s tallest trees might be in the Calha Norte, a 39-million-hectare (roughly 96 million acres) block of forest spanning northern Pará and Amapá. That same year, two trees of the same species – angelim-vermelho (Dinizia excelsa), a hardwood native to the Amazon – were discovered and registered among the tallest trees on the planet. One is in Pará State and measures 88.5 meters (290 feet), two and a half times the height of the Christ the Redeemer statue. The other, in Amapá State, stands 85.44 meters (280 feet) tall. Both are located in Conservation Units (UCs), which are officially designated protected areas. The discovery was astonishing – and also alarming. Why? Because both trees are under threat.

The taller of the two, initially identified in the Paru State Forest in Pará, was not only recognized as the tallest tree in Brazil but also the fourth tallest in the world. The news spread internationally, and the finding was so extraordinary that environmentalists rallied to demand greater protection for the over-500-year-old giant. This pressure led to the creation of the Giant Trees State Park in part of the area in 2024. In theory, this type of protected area, called a No Take Conservation Unit, would ensure that the angelim-vermelho remained standing. In practice, however, the park shares management with three other large state forests (Paru, Faro, and Trombetas)—an enormous territory managed by a very small staff, especially given chronic underfunding, land grabbing, wildfires, and illegal gold mining.

In Amapá, its 85-meter-tall (280 feet) sibling is in no better situation. Located in the Rio Iratapuru Sustainable Development Reserve – a type of protected area that allows traditional populations to live and use natural resources sustainably – the tree faces immediate risk from illegal mining operations that are now operating just one kilometer (0.6 miles) from its roots.

Furthermore, the scientific research that identified these giant trees is still ongoing. So far, only about 1% of the Amazon rainforest has been scanned using this technology. This means there could be many more undiscovered giants hidden in the forest, but given the current reality of the biome, they may already be in the crosshairs of logging equipment, fire, and illegal mining.

Adding to the threat, logging and commercialization of angelim-vermelho is legal under State law. It is common to see trucks loaded with massive angelim logs driving through the region, bearing legal transport and sale permits. It is shocking to see a truck carrying what may be the trunk of a single centuries-old tree – witnesses of time itself – cut down to become someone’s dining table. When these trees were identified, Amapá state considered enacting a regulation to protect the species. However, the proposal failed, and the trees remain unprotected. Since there is no legal definition of a “giant tree,” any such tree that is not within a Conservation Unit is at risk of being cut down—even if it is more than 400 years old and taller than the record-setting trees discovered in 2022.

To make matters worse, even the trees inside Conservation Units are at risk due to a lack of resources and enforcement. The Paru State Forest has seen more than 500 illegal registrations in the CAR (Rural Environmental Registry), a land registration system meant to monitor property boundaries and ensure environmental compliance. In 2022, a government action curbed some of this activity. But in 2024, during the creation of the Giant Trees State Park, representatives of the mining sector publicly questioned the need to protect 500,000 hectares (1.2 million acres), arguing that “the tree itself” occupied a very small area. In their view, the park’s presence would interfere with their “business interests.” At the time, the Pará state government promised to bring economic incentives to the region through tourism.

Nearly a year after the park’s creation, little has been heard about it – just as little is heard about inspection or enforcement operations in the region, where mining and illegal land grabbing continue to thrive.

With more staff dedicated to managing each of the Conservation Units in the region, the giant trees and the entire ecosystem surrounding them would be better protected from both deforestation and mining. Local populations would have the opportunity to generate income from a preserved forest. With strong, specific legislation to protect angelim-vermelho and other giant species like the Brazil nut tree (Bertholletia excelsa), both legal and illegal logging could be better controlled.

The lack of protection and unregulated harvesting nearly drove iconic species like the Brazilwood (Paubrasilia echinata) and the araucaria (Araucaria angustifolia) to extinction. Brazilwood was even declared extinct in the early 20th century, before being rediscovered in Pernambuco in 1928. Today, only a few rare specimens remain—mostly within protected areas. Araucaria, once abundant especially in southern Brazil, now survives in just 0.8% of its original primary forest range. It is officially classified as “Critically Endangered.”

Brazil is the only country named after a tree. Yet, over the past 525 years, it has nearly obliterated the Atlantic Forest – and likely lost immeasurable natural treasures in the process. In this year of the “Forest COP” (the UN Climate Conference focused on forests), the question remains: will the fate of the Amazon’s giants be different – or, like in the Atlantic Forest, will the green vastness on our flag become just a memory recorded in history books?

*This opinion piece is the responsibility of its authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of ((o))eco.