At dawn on the tributaries that feed the Chishui river, in the People’s Republic of China, fishers glide their bamboo skiffs through water that once pooled behind a chain of aging dams.

Over the past year, engineers have dismantled or decommissioned more than 300 obsolete barriers on those tributary streams letting clear, fast moving flow rejoin the river’s mainstem.

Villagers now hope that spawning Yangtze sturgeon—a fish missing from local nets for two decades— will soon return to their waters. One small valley shows what happens when a river is set free: nature responds, and communities feel the dividend in their pockets and hearts.

Across Asia and the Pacific, tens of thousands of small and medium-sized dams—built for mills that closed long ago or irrigation schemes long since abandoned—still clog waterways. Many are older than the people who manage them; some no longer store water, generate power, or irrigate fields.

What they do store is risk: crumbling concrete, trapped sediment that starves deltas, and fish migrations blocked mid-journey.

At first glance, removing an obsolete dam seems costly. But is it really? Keeping an old dam running means spending millions—again and again—on endless repairs and dredging. In contrast, taking it down is a one-time cost. Often, that single demolition bill is less than just one major repair.

The employment story is equally clearcut. Maintenance works rely on a small, short-term construction crew. Restoration, however, ripples outward: every 1ドル million invested in dam removal supports 10–13 local short or even long-term jobs—from river restoration contractors and scientists to tour guides, guest house owners, and food vendors.

Removing obsolete dams restores ecosystems, reconnects communities, and builds climate resilience. Photos by Francesco Riccardi

Risk follows the same pattern. The longer an obsolete dam stands, the greater the liability each time a storm rolls in. Demolition wipes that risk off the books and lowers downstream flood danger.

Finally, think about ecosystem services, the free benefits healthy rivers provide, from clean water and fertile silt to cultural inspiration. What would your community gain if its river ran free again?

An aging barrier continues to starve deltas of sediment and agricultural floodplains from natural nutrients, block migratory fish, and dampen social traditions. Free the river, and those services rebound. Fisheries recover. Deltas rebuild. Waterfront property values rise—along with community pride.

But restoration funds are finite. River scientists now talk about mapping rivers’ "swimways"—water corridors that migratory fish follow as migratory birds trace their flyways in the sky. The idea is simple: pinpointing chokepoints where removing or bypassing a single barrier would reconnect the longest, most species-rich stretches and deliver the biggest cultural and nutritional wins.

Where recreation and river tourism already thrive, each dollar invested in dam removal can return nearly twice as much in local economic activity.

A basin-wide swimway map would steer public and private finance toward restoring priority free-flowing rivers—places where ecological revival, food security, and heritage values overlap so tightly that returns multiply well beyond the riverbank.

International studies indicate that, where recreation and river tourism already thrive, each dollar invested in dam removal can return nearly twice as much in local economic activity. In other river basins, where fishing is restricted and tourism is still emerging, benefits may appear differently—through safer infrastructure, reduced dredging, and healthier soils downstream. Wherever rivers are restored, communities closest to the water are usually the first to feel the uplift.

Crucially, the poorest households—those relying on river protein rather than supermarket aisles—gain first.

For riparian communities, a blocked river is a cultural and nutritional wound. Migratory fish, once a free source of protein, plummet when spawning routes are severed. Stagnant reservoirs breed water-borne disease. Elderly residents worry whether crumbling spillways can survive the next typhoon.

Freeing a river rewires that story: clean water returns, boats replace dredgers, and ancestral festivals tied to flood pulses come alive again. Equity, not only efficiency, sits at the heart of dam removal.

Reservoirs, particularly in tropical areas, can emit significant methane when water levels fluctuate. Removing an under-performing dam therefore erases a hidden greenhouse plume while restoring sediment flows that naturally bolster coastlines against storm surges.

On biodiversity, numbers are stark: big freshwater species (such as river dolphins and sturgeons) have collapsed by nearly 90% in the last 50 years, with river fragmentation as the main reason for the decline.

Reconnecting channels is one of the fastest, cheapest ways to bend that declining curve back toward recovery.

The region is not starting from zero. Europe and North America have already removed more than 3,800 dams, turning liability into opportunity. Spurred by the EU Nature Restoration Law, more than 500 barriers disappeared in 2023 alone in Europe, and the continent aims to restore 25,000 kilometers of free-flowing rivers by 2030.

This vision of the future begins with the same courageous act: identifying a dam whose time has passed—and letting the river write the next chapter. Strategic dam removal can position Asia and the Pacific at the forefront of a 21st-century development paradigm—one that measures success not only in megawatts and cubic meters but in healthy ecosystems, thriving cultures, and resilient economies.