During this extraordinary global public health emergency, governments must strike the right balance between assertive measures to slow the spread of the virus and protect lives on the one hand, and respect for human autonomy, dignity and equality on the other.

International law already recognises the grave impact of pandemics and other catastrophic events on social order and provides criteria to guide states in their emergency action. The International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights permits curbs on the right to ‘liberty of movement’ so long as restrictions are provided by law, deemed necessary to protect public health, and consistent with other rights in that treaty.

Freedom of expression and association, and the rights to privacy and family life are also qualified in these terms under international and regional human rights treaties. But, as emphasised in the Siracusa Principles, any limitations must not be applied in an arbitrary or discriminatory way, and must be of limited duration and subject to review.

International law also guarantees the right to the highest attainable standard of health, while states are specifically required to take steps to prevent, treat and control epidemics under the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights. Even in health emergencies, access to health services must be ensured on a non-discriminatory basis, especially for vulnerable or marginalised groups.

Abuse of coronavirus emergency measures

Many governments have taken pains to craft emergency laws that respect human rights, such as permitting reasonable exceptions to lockdowns for essential shopping and exercise, and making them subject to ongoing parliamentary review and sunset clauses. But even laws that appear to be human rights compliant can still easily be misapplied, as the recent debates about over-zealous policing of people walking and travelling in the UK illustrate.

And disturbing stories are emerging from states where police brutality is entrenched. In Kenya, a 13-year-old boy was reportedly shot on the balcony of his home by police enforcing a coronavirus curfew. Authorities in the Philippines' are allegedly locking those caught defying the curfew in dog cages.

As the recent history of counterterrorism demonstrates, emergency laws tend to be sticky, remaining on the statute books far longer than desirable.

The virus is also proving a powerful accelerant for the current global authoritarian drift which is so detrimental to progress on human rights. Many authoritarian leaders have seized the opportunity to further reduce constraints on their power.

Hungary's prime minister Viktor Orbán has used the pandemic as a pretext for new laws enabling him to rule by decree, completing the country's transition to an elected dictatorship. In Brazil, president Jair Bolsonaro has suspended deadlines for public bodies to reply to freedom of information requests. Iran is the latest of many repressive states in the Middle East to ban the printing and distribution of all newspapers. In China, the government brushed off criticism over ‘disappearances’ of whistleblowers and citizen journalists who questioned its response to the crisis.

Others have exploited the turmoil to undermine justice for human rights abuses - Sri Lanka's president Gotabaya Rajapaksa pardoned one of the only soldiers held accountable for crimes during the country's brutal civil war.

Coronavirus also places liberal values under further strain. Fear is a major driver in the appeal of populist authoritarians and the virus is stoking it. One poll showed 73% of British citizens agreed coronavirus is just the latest sign that the world we live in is increasingly dangerous. Extremists are exploiting these fears to spread hate by blaming the outbreak on ethnic or religious groups, and encouraging those infected to spread it to these groups.

The closure of borders helps reinforce xenophobic tendencies, and high public tolerance of emergency measures could easily spill into normalisation of intrusive digital surveillance and restrictions on liberty for other reasons well into the future.

Disadvantaged groups face a higher level of risk from the crisis. The health of aboriginal Australians is so poor that those aged 50 and above are being urged to stay home, advice otherwise given to those over 70 in the general population. The Moria refugee camp on Lesbos is reporting no soap and just one water tap for 1,300 refugees. In the UK, asylum seekers struggle to self-isolate in shared accommodation and have a daily allowance of just £5.40 for food, medicine and toiletries. Women's rights groups are reporting a spike in domestic violence.

For countries racked by war and extreme poverty, the impact is catastrophic. The virus is set to run rampant in slums, refugee camps and informal settlements where public health systems - if they exist at all - will struggle to cope. And detainees are among the most at risk, with the UN calling for release of political prisoners and anyone detained without sufficient legal basis.

But the crisis has galvanised debate around the right to health and universal health coverage. Many governments have quickly bankrolled generous relief packages which will actually safeguard the socio-economic rights of many, even if they are not being justified in those terms. Portugal and Ireland have rolled back barriers to accessing healthcare for asylum seekers and other marginalised migrants.

The pandemic strikes as many powerful governments have become increasingly nationalistic, undermining or retreating from international rules and institutions on human rights. But as the crisis spreads, the role of well-established international human rights standards in shaping and implementing effective - but also legitimate - measures is becoming ever clearer.

The virus has reminded us of our interconnectedness as human beings and the need for global cooperation to protect our lives and health. This may help to revive popular support for human rights, creating momentum for the efforts to tackle inequality and repression - factors which have made the global impact of coronavirus so much worse than it might have been.

During this extraordinary global public health emergency, governments must strike the right balance between assertive measures to slow the spread of the virus and protect lives on the one hand, and respect for human autonomy, dignity and equality on the other.

International law already recognises the grave impact of pandemics and other catastrophic events on social order and provides criteria to guide states in their emergency action. The International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights permits curbs on the right to ‘liberty of movement’ so long as restrictions are provided by law, deemed necessary to protect public health, and consistent with other rights in that treaty.

Freedom of expression and association, and the rights to privacy and family life are also qualified in these terms under international and regional human rights treaties. But, as emphasised in the Siracusa Principles, any limitations must not be applied in an arbitrary or discriminatory way, and must be of limited duration and subject to review.

International law also guarantees the right to the highest attainable standard of health, while states are specifically required to take steps to prevent, treat and control epidemics under the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights. Even in health emergencies, access to health services must be ensured on a non-discriminatory basis, especially for vulnerable or marginalised groups.

Abuse of coronavirus emergency measures

Many governments have taken pains to craft emergency laws that respect human rights, such as permitting reasonable exceptions to lockdowns for essential shopping and exercise, and making them subject to ongoing parliamentary review and sunset clauses. But even laws that appear to be human rights compliant can still easily be misapplied, as the recent debates about over-zealous policing of people walking and travelling in the UK illustrate.

And disturbing stories are emerging from states where police brutality is entrenched. In Kenya, a 13-year-old boy was reportedly shot on the balcony of his home by police enforcing a coronavirus curfew. Authorities in the Philippines' are allegedly locking those caught defying the curfew in dog cages.

As the recent history of counterterrorism demonstrates, emergency laws tend to be sticky, remaining on the statute books far longer than desirable.

The virus is also proving a powerful accelerant for the current global authoritarian drift which is so detrimental to progress on human rights. Many authoritarian leaders have seized the opportunity to further reduce constraints on their power.

Hungary's prime minister Viktor Orbán has used the pandemic as a pretext for new laws enabling him to rule by decree, completing the country's transition to an elected dictatorship. In Brazil, president Jair Bolsonaro has suspended deadlines for public bodies to reply to freedom of information requests. Iran is the latest of many repressive states in the Middle East to ban the printing and distribution of all newspapers. In China, the government brushed off criticism over ‘disappearances’ of whistleblowers and citizen journalists who questioned its response to the crisis.

Others have exploited the turmoil to undermine justice for human rights abuses - Sri Lanka's president Gotabaya Rajapaksa pardoned one of the only soldiers held accountable for crimes during the country's brutal civil war.

Coronavirus also places liberal values under further strain. Fear is a major driver in the appeal of populist authoritarians and the virus is stoking it. One poll showed 73% of British citizens agreed coronavirus is just the latest sign that the world we live in is increasingly dangerous. Extremists are exploiting these fears to spread hate by blaming the outbreak on ethnic or religious groups, and encouraging those infected to spread it to these groups.

The closure of borders helps reinforce xenophobic tendencies, and high public tolerance of emergency measures could easily spill into normalisation of intrusive digital surveillance and restrictions on liberty for other reasons well into the future.

Disadvantaged groups face a higher level of risk from the crisis. The health of aboriginal Australians is so poor that those aged 50 and above are being urged to stay home, advice otherwise given to those over 70 in the general population. The Moria refugee camp on Lesbos is reporting no soap and just one water tap for 1,300 refugees. In the UK, asylum seekers struggle to self-isolate in shared accommodation and have a daily allowance of just £5.40 for food, medicine and toiletries. Women's rights groups are reporting a spike in domestic violence.

For countries racked by war and extreme poverty, the impact is catastrophic. The virus is set to run rampant in slums, refugee camps and informal settlements where public health systems - if they exist at all - will struggle to cope. And detainees are among the most at risk, with the UN calling for release of political prisoners and anyone detained without sufficient legal basis.

But the crisis has galvanised debate around the right to health and universal health coverage. Many governments have quickly bankrolled generous relief packages which will actually safeguard the socio-economic rights of many, even if they are not being justified in those terms. Portugal and Ireland have rolled back barriers to accessing healthcare for asylum seekers and other marginalised migrants.

The pandemic strikes as many powerful governments have become increasingly nationalistic, undermining or retreating from international rules and institutions on human rights. But as the crisis spreads, the role of well-established international human rights standards in shaping and implementing effective - but also legitimate - measures is becoming ever clearer.

The virus has reminded us of our interconnectedness as human beings and the need for global cooperation to protect our lives and health. This may help to revive popular support for human rights, creating momentum for the efforts to tackle inequality and repression - factors which have made the global impact of coronavirus so much worse than it might have been.

During this extraordinary global public health emergency, governments must strike the right balance between assertive measures to slow the spread of the virus and protect lives on the one hand, and respect for human autonomy, dignity and equality on the other.

International law already recognises the grave impact of pandemics and other catastrophic events on social order and provides criteria to guide states in their emergency action. The International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights permits curbs on the right to ‘liberty of movement’ so long as restrictions are provided by law, deemed necessary to protect public health, and consistent with other rights in that treaty.

Freedom of expression and association, and the rights to privacy and family life are also qualified in these terms under international and regional human rights treaties. But, as emphasised in the Siracusa Principles, any limitations must not be applied in an arbitrary or discriminatory way, and must be of limited duration and subject to review.

International law also guarantees the right to the highest attainable standard of health, while states are specifically required to take steps to prevent, treat and control epidemics under the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights. Even in health emergencies, access to health services must be ensured on a non-discriminatory basis, especially for vulnerable or marginalised groups.

Abuse of coronavirus emergency measures

Many governments have taken pains to craft emergency laws that respect human rights, such as permitting reasonable exceptions to lockdowns for essential shopping and exercise, and making them subject to ongoing parliamentary review and sunset clauses. But even laws that appear to be human rights compliant can still easily be misapplied, as the recent debates about over-zealous policing of people walking and travelling in the UK illustrate.

And disturbing stories are emerging from states where police brutality is entrenched. In Kenya, a 13-year-old boy was reportedly shot on the balcony of his home by police enforcing a coronavirus curfew. Authorities in the Philippines' are allegedly locking those caught defying the curfew in dog cages.

As the recent history of counterterrorism demonstrates, emergency laws tend to be sticky, remaining on the statute books far longer than desirable.

The virus is also proving a powerful accelerant for the current global authoritarian drift which is so detrimental to progress on human rights. Many authoritarian leaders have seized the opportunity to further reduce constraints on their power.

Hungary's prime minister Viktor Orbán has used the pandemic as a pretext for new laws enabling him to rule by decree, completing the country's transition to an elected dictatorship. In Brazil, president Jair Bolsonaro has suspended deadlines for public bodies to reply to freedom of information requests. Iran is the latest of many repressive states in the Middle East to ban the printing and distribution of all newspapers. In China, the government brushed off criticism over ‘disappearances’ of whistleblowers and citizen journalists who questioned its response to the crisis.

Others have exploited the turmoil to undermine justice for human rights abuses - Sri Lanka's president Gotabaya Rajapaksa pardoned one of the only soldiers held accountable for crimes during the country's brutal civil war.

Coronavirus also places liberal values under further strain. Fear is a major driver in the appeal of populist authoritarians and the virus is stoking it. One poll showed 73% of British citizens agreed coronavirus is just the latest sign that the world we live in is increasingly dangerous. Extremists are exploiting these fears to spread hate by blaming the outbreak on ethnic or religious groups, and encouraging those infected to spread it to these groups.

The closure of borders helps reinforce xenophobic tendencies, and high public tolerance of emergency measures could easily spill into normalisation of intrusive digital surveillance and restrictions on liberty for other reasons well into the future.

Disadvantaged groups face a higher level of risk from the crisis. The health of aboriginal Australians is so poor that those aged 50 and above are being urged to stay home, advice otherwise given to those over 70 in the general population. The Moria refugee camp on Lesbos is reporting no soap and just one water tap for 1,300 refugees. In the UK, asylum seekers struggle to self-isolate in shared accommodation and have a daily allowance of just £5.40 for food, medicine and toiletries. Women's rights groups are reporting a spike in domestic violence.

For countries racked by war and extreme poverty, the impact is catastrophic. The virus is set to run rampant in slums, refugee camps and informal settlements where public health systems - if they exist at all - will struggle to cope. And detainees are among the most at risk, with the UN calling for release of political prisoners and anyone detained without sufficient legal basis.

But the crisis has galvanised debate around the right to health and universal health coverage. Many governments have quickly bankrolled generous relief packages which will actually safeguard the socio-economic rights of many, even if they are not being justified in those terms. Portugal and Ireland have rolled back barriers to accessing healthcare for asylum seekers and other marginalised migrants.

The pandemic strikes as many powerful governments have become increasingly nationalistic, undermining or retreating from international rules and institutions on human rights. But as the crisis spreads, the role of well-established international human rights standards in shaping and implementing effective - but also legitimate - measures is becoming ever clearer.

The virus has reminded us of our interconnectedness as human beings and the need for global cooperation to protect our lives and health. This may help to revive popular support for human rights, creating momentum for the efforts to tackle inequality and repression - factors which have made the global impact of coronavirus so much worse than it might have been.

Governments are increasingly using public procurement policy to promote the use of legal and sustainable timber, thereby helping to reduce deforestation and illegal logging and encouraging sustainable forestry. 

At least 26 countries, mostly in the EU, currently possess some form of timber procurement policy at central government level. Although some have been implemented more recently than others and all tend to vary in their design, the evidence suggests that they are having a positive effect on increasing market share for verified legal and sustainable timber. Although government purchasing accounts for only a limited share of the market, the evidence also suggests that these timber procurement policies are having a broader impact on consumer markets, partly through their impact on suppliers and partly through the signals they send to the market. 

These policies are also relatively straightforward to introduce: many countries already possess some form of green procurement policy, and criteria for legal and sustainable timber can easily be tailored to fit. In general no new legislation is needed, though the more comprehensive policies benefit from training and advice to government purchasers. 

The gradual spread of the EU Green Procurement Policy programme, and commitments by an increasing number of private companies to eliminate deforestation from their supply chains are likely to encourage further uptake of procurement policies for sustainable timber. Timber procurement can also provide valuable lessons to governments when developing sustainable procurement policies for other products associated with deforestation, such as palm oil. 

Summary

• Procurement policy has been used effectively to exclude illegal and unsustainable timber from consumer-country markets.
• As the public sector is a major purchaser of food and catering services for schools, nurseries, hospitals, care homes, canteens, prisons and the military, public procurement policies in this area clearly have the potential to promote the uptake of sustainable products not associated with deforestation.
• Many public authorities, particularly at local and regional level, already have a procurement policy for food; in principle, criteria for sustainable production could be incorporated relatively easily.
• Some products – particularly palm oil, cocoa, coffee and tea – are better suited than others to this approach; for all these products, voluntary certification initiatives currently under way could provide identification mechanisms on which procurement policies could rest.
• Other commodities may not be as suited to procurement policy, and it may be more effective to use other regulations; this applies particularly to soy, for which biofuel regulations are likely to have a bigger impact.
• In cases in which private-sector initiatives are under way to achieve 100 per cent sustainable imports (such a target has been set for palm oil in several countries), procurement policy may be unnecessary. In other cases, the adoption of a new procurement policy could serve as the spur to a private-sector initiative. 

December’s UN climate talks held in Madrid were aptly titled ‘Time for Action’. While little progress was made at the conference in establishing an international framework that would help to instigate this, there is still much scope for action in 2020. The need for this has become all too apparent as the impacts of climate change are increasingly seen around the world.

One of the key areas where progress can be made in 2020 is in increasing the ambition of nationally determined contributions (NDCs), these being governments’ plans to take action in response to climate change. To date, 184 countries have submitted NDCs, yet the commitments that have been made fall far short of what is needed to avert catastrophic climate change.

In 2020, however, many countries will be revising their NDCs, presenting an important opportunity to shift momentum; to date 79 countries have announced that they will be enhancing the ambition of their NDCs.

The forest sector is one area where more ambitious targets are likely to be set, and indeed, at the Climate Action Summit in September 2019, more than 20 countries made new commitments for the conservation, reforestation and restoration of their forests.

This will be essential. As is well documented, reducing deforestation is critical to reducing carbon emissions, while healthy and diverse forests are vital for adapting and increasing resilience to climate change.

However, while it is important that ambitious targets are set, this is relatively easy; the bigger challenge lies in ensuring that these are achievable.

This is all too apparent from experience thus far. In 2014, the New York Declaration on Forests set the goal to halve forest loss by 2020, and to end it by 2030. In addition, it included the goal to restore 150 million hectares of degraded landscapes and forestlands by 2020, and a further 200 million hectares by 2030.

The declaration has been endorsed by over 50 countries, as well as business and civil society organizations, yet the 2020 goals are far from being reached – in the six years since the declaration was launched, it has been found that forest loss increased rather than declined, and only about 27 million hectares of land have been restored.

What then is needed to ensure that the commitments being made by governments in their NDCs will actually be met? Three big changes are required.

Firstly, a shift in perspective is needed in many countries to a more forest-sensitive approach to development, one that gives adequate recognition to the full range of values provided by forests, rather than primarily focusing on their role as a global carbon sink. These include their importance for local and national economies, for livelihoods and the well-being of forest-dependent peoples, and for biodiversity and the regulation of local climate and water systems.

The focus on nature-based solutions at the international level offers potential to support this shift. However, it is critical that these are not seen as ‘niche’ approaches, and that countries identify what nature-based solutions mean for them, and how forests and tree-rich landscapes can best be integrated into their development strategies.

Fundamental to achieving this will be further improvements in governance, and this is the second change that is required. Legal and institutional reforms are needed in many countries as well as significant investments in human and technical resources. This will enable processes to be strengthened, or put in place, so that equitable strategies can be developed and implemented – strategies that reflect a balance of the needs and priorities of the full range of stakeholders, including local and global, rural and urban, women and men, young and old.

Financing will of course be critical for this, and the least developed countries in particular will be hindered in the actions they can take without additional finance. This is the third area of change that is needed, and it is to be hoped that the international community will make better progress on this in 2020. Forest and land-use options are often described as a cost-effective means of tackling climate change, as is noted in the Santiago Call for Action on Forests for example.

This is not to say that these will be easy or cheap – as Chatham House has documented, experience of forest governance reform has shown that it takes significant funding and time to bring about deep-rooted change. However, the huge potential benefits that can result, for the citizens of forest-rich countries as well as for the planet, mean that forests and sustainable land-use are a good investment.