Why ‘flexible’ environmental assessments threaten the Northern Cape’s fragile ecosystems

South Africa is one of the 17 megadiverse countries in the world. We also have some of the most progressive environmental legislation globally.

Our environmental impact assessment (EIA) system, or at least its implementation, is not perfect by any means. But in the fragile landscape of the Northern Cape, EIAs are among the last safeguards between extractive development and irreversible loss of ecological and cultural heritage.

This is exactly why we should all be concerned about the proposed move towards a “flexible” EIA system.

In my work across the Succulent Karoo region, a global biodiversity hotspot, internationally renowned for its unique plants and incredible spring flower displays, I have seen first-hand what happens when the system fails. These are not forgiving landscapes. Ecological recovery in arid environments can take decades, if it happens at all.

Lasting scars

Parts of Namaqualand have been subjected to extensive diamond and copper mining, some pre-dating current legislation, some alongside it. Together, they have left vast areas, literal scars on the land, which are virtually uninhabitable to any form of life, human or otherwise.

I have sat with communities who fought for decades to regain rights to their ancestral land, only to be confronted with a post-mining wasteland and a resurgence of new mining applications, where public participation is sometimes designed to exclude meaningful participation or is, at best, a check-box exercise. So, I ask: who does adding flexibility to the current, already flawed, system really serve?

These are the potential environmental costs EIAs are meant to weigh against benefits, impacts that should be mitigated, restoration that should have occurred, but didn’t. Even small-scale prospecting activities, often framed as “low impact”, can leave lasting scars.

EIAs are often cast as a bureaucratic obstacle, but they are neither a tool to facilitate development nor to hold it back; they are something much more fundamental. EIAs should protect our constitutional right to an environment that safeguards human and ecosystem health and wellbeing.

EIAs should weigh costs and risks. They are designed to make sure that the full cost of development is not shifted on to the environment, an asset that belongs to all of us. They should also ensure that this cost does not fall on to vulnerable communities who depend on these ecosystems for their livelihoods and cultural heritage, in the name of promoting business interests that may benefit only a handful.

Deeply troubling

Against this backdrop, the idea of introducing greater discretion for decision-makers, or “flexibility” as it is currently termed, is deeply troubling.

The use of the word “flexible” implies negotiation, wriggle room, and potential corruption. Our environmental rights should not be flexible.

The question we should be asking is not how to make EIAs more “flexible”. Instead, we should be asking how to make them work better.

Evidence from the government’s own review of the current EIA system suggests that the core problem lies not in excessive regulation or overly rigid procedures. Rather, there are issues of poor-quality assessments and insufficient technical capacity in regulatory and decision-making authorities.

Introducing flexibility into a system already struggling with these shortcomings risks amplifying them rather than fixing them. It increases the likelihood that decisions will be made using incomplete information and create room for inconsistency.

Stretched capacity

In places like the Northern Cape, we already know capacity in competent authorities like the Department of Mineral and Petroleum Resources (DMPR) is stretched. Adding flexibility risks turning what should be a precautionary process into one that routinely facilitates environmental harm.

If screening decisions are made early, with limited information, and without meaningful opportunities for appeal, it risks embedding errors into the process and making them increasingly difficult to correct.

Of ultimate concern is what this means for vulnerable communities. When public participation processes are already inconsistent and often inadequate, scaling them down further risks excluding the very people most directly affected by environmental decisions. The burden of oversight should not fall on communities who lack the resources to act as watchdogs.

Flexible before functional?

Are we trying to make EIAs flexible before we make them functional? Are we putting the cart before the horse?

There is a clear need to improve efficiency, reduce unnecessary delays and better align decision-making processes. Reform should start by addressing the known weaknesses: strengthening institutional capacity, improving the quality and accountability of environmental assessment practitioners and ensuring that biodiversity and cumulative impacts are accurately assessed.

Only once these foundations are in place should more flexible approaches be considered, and even then, cautiously and in appropriate contexts.

In extremely sensitive landscapes such as biodiversity hotspots, protected areas and strategic water source areas, there should be no compromise. These are places where uncertainty should trigger more rigorous assessment, not less.

There is wide agreement that there is a need for EIA reform. But this reform needs to address the current capacity and decision-making inadequacies. We should guard against creating a new system that will allow some to facilitate quick development to the detriment of both people and nature.

Done correctly, EIA reform should support both sustainable development and environmental protection. Done prematurely, it risks weakening the very system designed to balance these objectives. In Namaqualand, the consequences of getting this balance wrong are already visible on the ground. DM