Climate change is expected to force millions of people to relocate this century, as rising seas inundate small islands and intolerable heat makes life impossible in tropical regions. But is the world really facing a mounting climate refugee crisis?
It is entirely reasonable to assume that as climate change intensifies, it will result in more human migration and displacement. Images of Bangladeshis seeking refuge from the latest cyclone or Californians fleeing suburban wildfires affirm a sense that climate change is driving the next great migration. And yet the great paradox of climate migration is that there is no such as thing as a “climate migrant” or “climate refugee”.
These are socially constructed categories. They may appear to reflect the world as it is. But when we peel back their veneer, we find, instead, a world of power and vested interests. Diagnosing this power is a matter of pressing urgency for anyone concerned with the politics of climate change today.
The main issue is climate change itself. When the impacts of climate change, such as extreme weather or wildfires, are used to explain socio-political phenomena like migration, they obscure the underlying historical conditions of those they affect.
Climate modelling, among other scientific research, has helped illuminate the horrors that await as global heating accelerates. A recent study found that between 12,000 and 19,000 children died due to extreme heat across Africa each year between 2011 and 2019. If emissions continue to rise, this grim annual toll could double by 2050, the researchers claim.
Scientists publish regular estimates of how much sea levels will rise according to different scenarios, such as whether emissions increase or fall and how fast, and if certain Antarctic ice shelves collapse and unleash vast quantities of stored water. But forecasting the consequences is trickier.
“The idea that rising seas will force millions to move, unleashing a refugee crisis like no other, has now become commonplace. It’s a narrative that the media are fond of, but that does not mean it is based on evidence,” says Sonja Ayeb-Karlsson, a senior researcher at the Institute for Environment and Human Security at United Nations University. “Everything we have learned so far suggests that decisions to migrate are far more complex than a simple flight response.”
Rather than leaving, a person living in a low-lying area may be just as likely to stay and adapt, by building struts to raise their home above the water, for instance. People who will be forced to migrate or resettle receive more attention than those left behind, Ayeb-Karlsson argues. “The so-called ‘trapped’ populations can be just as vulnerable as those on the move, if not more so,” she says.
David Durand-Delacre, a PhD candidate in geography at the University of Cambridge, was part of a team that published a commentary on “climate migration myths” in 2019. He says that accuracy is important, as warnings about the disruption climate change will cause can backfire badly.
“Predictions of mass climate migration make for attention-grabbing headlines. For more than two decades, commentators have predicted ‘waves’ and ‘rising tides’ of people forced to move by climate change. Recently, a think-tank report warned the climate crisis could displace 1.2 billion people by 2050,” Durand-Delacre says, writing in 2020.
“Our main concern is that alarming headlines about mass climate migrations risk leading to more walls, not fewer. Indeed, many on the right and far right are now setting aside their climate denialism and linking climate action to ideas of territory and ethnic purity.
“In this context of growing climate nationalism, even the most well-intentioned narratives risk feeding fear-based stories of invasion when they present climate migration as unprecedented and massive, urgent and destabilising,” he says.
W Andrew Baldwin, an associate professor in human geography at Durham University, argues that we should abandon the concept of climate refugees altogether:
“The great paradox of climate migration is that there is no such as thing as a ‘climate migrant’ or ‘climate refugee’. These are socially constructed categories. They may appear to reflect the world as it is. But when we peel back their veneer, we find, instead, a world of power and vested interests,” he says.
The impacts of climate change, such as wildfires and floods, may be the trigger in someone’s decision to leave their home and find refuge elsewhere. But when climate change is the only explanation, the historical reasons why some people are so vulnerable to upheaval are obscured, Baldwin argues.
“Take, for example, coastal Bangladesh. For decades, shrimp farming and, more recently, soft-shell crab farming have radically transformed the region. Promoted by institutions like the World Bank, these are forms of economic development that have earned Bangladesh much needed foreign currency. But they have also devastated the coastal environment, dispossessed local smallholders of land, and forced generations of rural people into precarious forms of wage labour.
“People in wealthier countries might demand their governments do more to ensure ‘climate justice’ in places like Bangladesh. But when we say rural-to-urban migration in Bangladesh is down to climate change, we diminish this important history.”
In another example, Baldwin explains how labelling an exodus from wildfire-prone regions of California in the US as a “climate migration” tells only half the story.
“The uncomfortable fact is that the suburban landscape in California, however normalised it now appears, is the culmination of settler colonial history, white flight from city centres, lax planning laws and a dominant car culture,” he says.
“…To say this migration is because of climate change obscures the fact that it is white suburban families who tend to have accrued enough wealth over the generations to move away from hazards like floods and fires.”
“Bangladesh and California are not remotely equivalent,” Baldwin continues. “Yet in both cases, when climate change is used to explain socio-political phenomena like migration, social inequality is naturalised.”
Author – Jack Marley, Environment commissioning editor of the Conversation
