Category: environment

  • The polycrisis needs you | Wonkhe

    The polycrisis needs you | Wonkhe

    Facing a climate and ecological polycrisis, human society needs to make a transition to restore life on earth to a sustainable footing.

    This is particularly true for those parts of the world sufficiently prosperous to have well-developed higher education systems, both because there is capacity and because the causes and effects of the crisis are uneven.

    Education for this purpose is variously called “education for sustainable development”, “teaching the crisis”, “climate and sustainability education” and other alternatives. There are good conversations to be had about the relative merits of these terms – what they invite, what they close off – but those are for a different piece. For this one we can go with EfS – education for sustainability.

    For those unconvinced

    In addressing the question of how higher education curricula can accelerate this transition, it helps to engage with the reservations. While many professionally oriented degrees already have some variant of sustainability in the criteria set by their accrediting body, it tends to be the harder, purer disciplines that pose the toughest questions about EfS.

    One position is that, as a matter of academic freedom, sustainability should not be imposed on higher education curricula. It’s true that coercion sits problematically with the kind of criticality and individual judgement higher learning demands. Yet students are already implicitly treated as prospective custodians of their discipline, and while on the surface this can look very diverse, there is a common basis of consistent reasoning, intellectual humility, collective endeavour, ethical practice, and academic integrity.

    It seems a small step to include the kind of integrative, future-oriented learning that characterises EfS – especially given that EfS exists to preserve and uphold the existing values. To underline this point, see the revised QAA Subject Benchmark statements, which begin to distinguish what EfS could be for different subject areas.

    Another concern is that there is no space for EfS in a given curriculum. It’s true that EfS needs thinking through to make it relevant to disciplinary teaching and learning. It’s also true that all curricula are all more or less time sensitive and are developed by module and programme leaders drawing on their evolving expertise and foresight. A case in point is the medical degree, perhaps the most pressured of all curricula.

    The General Medical Council takes a position that Education for Sustainable Healthcare and the concept of Planetary Health are key to addressing the greatest threats to health we face, and consequently medical curricula are integrating these.

    Somebody else’s problem

    The assumption that somebody else should do the EfS is common. It often comes from a place of humility and self-doubt – a belief that there are colleagues better qualified to lead this work, with better-suited modules. But in a modularised system this is a trap that needs to be sidestepped. EfS is most meaningful when integrated rather than adjunct, and strongest when it connects deeply with the disciplines students have signed up to study; it belongs in the core of a curriculum at each level. Viewed in this way, supporting core module leaders to develop themselves to teach the climate and environmental crisis through the lens of their discipline, along with ways students and graduates can contribute to addressing it, does not seem much different from any other continuous self-development a disciplinary expert and educator would undertake.

    Another reservation is that students of a given subject or discipline don’t need sustainability as part of that education. In response to that, an appeal: the polycrisis is existential and it needs you.

    This makes sense if we recognise climate breakdown, biodiversity collapse and all that follows from those as a “wicked” (nexus) problem that cannot be addressed by one discipline alone, but needs a plurality of perspectives within and beyond academia.

    For example, the modelling that informs the planetary boundaries framework depends on mathematicians, who in turn depend on scientific researchers collecting data out in the field, who in turn use bespoke equipment and software created by engineers with particular cases in mind. The modelling needs visualisation by scientific communication specialists, and it needs the kind of readiness abundant in arts and humanities to imagine and inculcate the social transformation implied. The transformation requires specialists in economics, law and policy, and the creativity of business and management. The impetus for all of this is health, and its dependency on our life support, a stable planet. So, education for sustainability doesn’t take students away from their discipline but draws deeply on it. This ability and intent to bring their disciplinary learning to the world beyond academia is what any academic hopes their students will do.

    Beyond the UN goals

    In some quarters there is a perception of EfS as teaching about the United Nations Sustainable Development Goals, and this is a misunderstanding which partly explains the reservations about disciplinary fit above. A simple explanation for why the SDGs on their own have not successfully averted the polycrisis is that they are in considerable tension with each other and require trade-offs. Education for Sustainability is an action-oriented education focused on empowering students to navigate these competing goods, cognisant that the basis for all of them is a habitable planet. It recognises that being able to mobilise knowledge does not necessarily follow from knowing alone.

    Hence the EfS emphasis on holistic thinking that recognises disciplinary boundaries and is curious beyond them, dialogue towards a shared, multifaceted understanding of the problem at hand, and the ability to contribute the most relevant of one’s own disciplinary perspectives and methods, in negotiation with others, to arrive at a collective plan of action which deals justly with conflicts of interests.

    This kind of education has always been valuable. In current times, where collective human behaviour is key to averting hunger, forced migration and conflict, it is not only valuable but urgent.

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  • Workers are cannibalised by the capitalist class (Nancy Fraser)

    Workers are cannibalised by the capitalist class (Nancy Fraser)

    The world is facing multiple crises simultaneously: Climate change, the rise of authoritarian movements, and the exploitation of labor from the Global South, among others. Professor of philosophy and politics at the New School, Nancy Fraser, says “it can’t be a coincidence” – at the root of it all is capitalism.

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  • ‘Father of Environmental Justice’ Robert Bullard on the Work Behind a Movement (Time)

    ‘Father of Environmental Justice’ Robert Bullard on the Work Behind a Movement (Time)







    Higher Education Inquirer : ‘Father of Environmental Justice’ Robert Bullard on the Work Behind a Movement (Time)







    ‘Father of Environmental Justice’ Robert Bullard on the Work Behind a Movement (Time)

     

     

    “This
    isn’t happenstance,” remarked
    Gloria Walton, former TIME Earth Award
    honoree, on the environmental justice movement being recognized as a
    powerful force.

    “It is a reality created by the energy and love of frontline communities
    and grassroots organizations who have worked for decades,” Walton said,
    as she presented an Earth Award to the man known as the “Father of
    Environmental Justice,” Robert Bullard.

    Bullard, who was appointed to the White House Environmental Justice
    Advisory Council in 2021, spoke of the long fight he’s waged for
    environmental justice in his acceptance speech. He discussed the
    challenges that he faced in 1979, when he conducted a study in support
    of the landmark case Bean v. Southwestern Waste Management Corps.— the
    first lawsuit to challenge environmental racism in the United States.

    “I am a sociologist and my sociology has taught me that it is not enough
    to gather the data, do the science and write the books,” he said. “In
    order for us to solve this kind of crisis, we must do our science, we
    must gather our data, we must collect our facts, and we must marry those
    facts with action.”

     

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  • The people who live where nickel is mined

    The people who live where nickel is mined

    Etus Hurata, 56, and Tatoyo Penes, 64, gather sago, a starch found in tropical palm, in the forest near the Kali Meja River with bamboo sticks and machetes. They will process the sago they collect into daily food ingredients.

    Daniel Totabo, 27, meanwhile, hunts for Sogili, a type of eel, in the middle of the fast-flowing river.

    According to data from Survival International, 300 to 500 O’Hongana Manyawa people still reside in the forested interior of the island of Halmahera. The tribes have never had direct contact with people outside the forest.

    But mining companies have already taken over increasing parts of their forest. The latest research data from the Association of Indigenous Peoples Defenders of Nusantara reports 21 matarumah (lineages) of this tribe inhabit the entire Halmahera mainland. One matarumah usually consists of 4–5 heads of families.

    Nickel dredging projects in the corners of Halmahera have disrupted their lives. Based on observations on digital maps, there are at least four mining companies operating within a 50–100 kilometers radius of the forests inhabited by indigenous peoples. This number is likely to increase in the next few years as global demand for nickel continues to increase.

    “If it continues like this, the forests in Halmahera will be destroyed,” Sumean said. “The trees will be cut down and the animals will be driven out and die because their homes have been completely cleared. Then where will we live?”

    Moving people to make way for mines

    The Indonesian government has tried to resettle people in other hamlets and villages, like Dodaga Village where Sumean lives. But supporting facilities such as health, economy and education built there are often inadequate. And for a people who lived nomadically, moving from forest to forest, it is difficult to adapt to land and houses in a village.

    “The house is very hot during the day and very cold at night because it uses a zinc roof. It is different from a leaf roof that can adjust to the season,” Sumean said. “We did get a house, but maybe they forgot that we also must find our own food every day.”

    As a result, the indigenous community largely abandoned Dodaga Village. It is now inhabited by immigrants from outside the area.

    Some are pinning their hopes on Tesla which seemed to take a firm stand for Indigenous peoples in its 2023 Impact Report published in May 2024. The electric car manufacturer owned by Elon Musk says it is pushing for a no-go zone for mining system or a mining-free area that can protect the rights of uncontacted Indigenous peoples such as O’Hongana Manyawa.

    The UK-based nonprofit organization Survival International has said that this concept could provide fixed boundaries for the industrial sector and any mining company so that they do not pass through the living space of indigenous peoples.

    But until now, the company has not provided any follow-up regarding the development of the concept in the report. Tesla says it uses around 13% of nickel ore from Indonesia and that energy transition is almost impossible without these nickel supplies. Moreover, they predict that nickel production in Indonesia will continue to increase along with the increasing demand for electric vehicles in the global market.

    The multinational corporations moved in.

    Travel six hours by road from Dodaga Village and the beautiful, green and dense Halmahera plains begin to change shape as the highway reaches the Indonesia Weda Industrial Park (IWIP) located along Weda Bay. In Lelilef Sawai Village, coal-fired power plants and nickel smelters stand where the forest once stood. Thick smoke from chimneys billow without pause.

    This industrial area began operating in 2020 through development carried out by PT Weda Bay Nickel, a joint venture between state-owned company PT Aneka Tambang and Strand Minerals which was initially formed in 1998.

    The two parties then also attracted French mining company Eramet and Chinese stainless steel company Tsingshan Holding Group. Over time, Tshingsan and Eramet took full control of the project. This area, included in the Indonesia’s National Strategic Project since November 2020, is predicted to attract investment worth U.S. $15 billion

    The mountainous area on the north side of IWIP has long been known to be rich in nickel reserves. The world’s nickel needs are predicted to increase drastically by 60% by 2040 to meet carbon reduction requirements of the Paris Agreement.

    While sales of electric vehicles have slowed in the United States and Europe, it is projected that half of all new cars sold in China will be electric. China, Europe and the United States represent the largest markets for electric vehicles, collectively accounting for approximately 95% of all sales in 2023.

    Un-environmental side effects of an environmental push

    The carbon footprint of the nickel smelting in Indonesia could negate much of the carbon reductions the e-cars promise. In addition to the smoke coming out of a total of 12 new coal-fired power plants there, deforestation activities are also clearly visible.

    Seen from satellite imagery monitoring, queues of trucks carrying materials snake along the road. Dozens of heavy equipment are also digging the hills next to it. This view will be visible up to 10 kilometers away.

    Geospatial analysis research conducted by Climate Rights International and the AI ​​Climate Initiative at the University of California, Berkeley revealed that nickel mining activities throughout the island of Halmahera have destroyed 5,331 hectares of tropical forest that act as absorbers of greenhouse gases.

    The industrial area currently employs around 43,000 employees. They are housed in huts built not far from the smelter and power plant chimneys. The huts are built close together with very limited ventilation in each room. In some places, garbage is left to pile up in the open space. The grass and plants growing around it are also covered in road dust.

    The massive deforestation that has taken place, mostly in the upstream areas of large rivers, has increased the risk and frequency of flooding.

    Danger from flooding

    JATAM, an organization that advocates for communities affected by the mining industry, reported that between 2020 and 2024, floods with a height of more than one meter occurred more than 12 times. In the summer of 2024, a flood in the Weda Bay mining area submerged seven villages, sending some 1,670 residents into temporary tents.

    Flood waters completely covered the home of Ahmad Kruwet, 62, a transmigrant from Tegal who now lives in Woe Jarana Village, Central Weda. “I think this is the effect because the forest upstream has been cut down until it is completely gone,” he said.

    Ahmad added that changes in the quality of the groundwater around his house made it unsafe to use. Since the industrial park started operating, he has had to buy gallons of water to meet his daily drinking water need.

    Meanwhile, in Lukolamo Village, Central Halmahera, cocoa farmer Adrian Patapata, 64, also saw a change in the quality of his water, which became smelly and colored.

    “Before, the water in our house was still clean and fresh,” he said “We drank this water. After the mine came here, the water could no longer be used. Let alone for drinking, we couldn’t even bathe.”

    Now he and his family make sure they are prepared for the next flood. They will run to the tent on the hill behind his village where there is a new post set as an initial mitigation site for flood victims.

    Health suffers near nickel plants.

    Mining activities and the disasters that occurred also have physical and health consequences. Beside Adrian, Juni Nadira Patapata, 9, was scratching her feet which looked blistered as result of being submerged in the floodwater for too long. In addition the local health center has been seeing an increase in upper respiratory infections in areas near the industrial areas, mostly in children and the elderly, but some mine workers as well.

    In January 2024 the center saw 174 cases. That increased to 345 in July. He has special attention for them, because every day almost 40% of patients who come to the health center are workers.

    Data from Eramet shows that the company plans to mine around 6,000 hectares of the total area of ​​Weda Bay Nickel’s 45,065-hectare concession over a 25-year period.

    Currently, as many as 2,000 hectares of land and forest have been exploited, both for the construction of new smelters and for mining activities.

    Mining activities in the industrial area and massive deforestation around it have also damaged the ecosystem of agricultural land and plantations owned by residents who live not far from there. Many farmers have experienced crop failures because the plants they planted died or sickened due to declining water and soil quality. Others were lost in the flooding.

    In his plantation in the Trans Kobe area, Adrian saw coconut and chocolate trees that he had cared for destroyed by the flood.

    For many years he has maintained a 5.5-hectare plantation planting cocoa, coconuts, nutmeg and a fuzzy fruit called langsat. “Before the mud flood like now, I could even plant bananas and sweet potatoes. Now I can’t anymore,” he said.

    Adrian said floods occurred even before the logging and nickel extraction but the puddles of water and sand that rose to the surface of would recede quickly. The mud that now inundates his garden takes longer to recede, and inhibits plant growth.

    “When it is already flooded and muddy like this, the roots absorb too much water,” he said. “Now it is just left like that, the children are also lazy to clean the garden because not much is growing anymore.”

    Meanwhile, the same situation is also seen on the coast. The expansion carried out by mining companies coupled with the contamination of liquid waste and heavy metals from the ferronickel processing smelter also polluted the estuary, beach and Weda Bay areas where fishermen would catch fish every day.

    Pollution enters the sea water.

    One day, Hernemus Takuling left his fishing boat abandoned on the beach. Although it was a good season for fishing, the waves were too high and fierce and he was reluctant to fish on the beach. Hundreds of meters from where he stood, a pipe from the smelter was discharging waste into the sea, turning the water around the beach brownish yellow.

    Now, Hernemus and most fishermen on the coastal villages directly adjacent to the industrial park must travel farther to get better quality fish without exposure to hot water radiation from the waste disposal.

    Some even fish as far as other islands. “Now, I rarely fish here,” Hernemus said. “Usually, I take the closest boat up to four kilometers from the end of the beach because there the condition of the fish caught is much better.”

    He leaves every day at 4 AM and returns around 3 PM. In one day, he might only get a few fish with an average weight of just one kilogram. “Now I need more time and energy just to catch fish,” he said. “Moreover, I must buy diesel for boat fuel. When I get fish, it’s sometimes hard to sell. In the end, I just eat it alone with my family at home.”


     

    Three questions to consider:

    1. How is nickel mining and processing affecting the Indigenous people of Indonesia?
    2. What is being proposed to help the people who live near nickel plants?
    3. Do you think the benefits from electric cars outweigh the damage done from mining the needed metals?


     

     

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  • Bite of the Big Four: India’s deadly snakebite crisis

    Bite of the Big Four: India’s deadly snakebite crisis

    Every year, an estimated 5.4 million people worldwide are bitten by snakes, resulting in as many as 138,000 deaths and three times as many cases of permanent disability.

    The World Health Organization classified snakebite as a neglected tropical disease in 2017 and set a target to halve related deaths by 2030.

    India, home to over 300 snake species, is at the heart of this global health issue, accounting for half of all snakebite-related deaths.

    While 95% of Indian snakes are non-venomous, it’s “The Big Four” species — the Indian cobra, common krait, Russell’s viper and saw-scaled viper — that cause the most harm said Dr. Sushil John, a public health doctor and amateur herpetologist from Vellore.

    “These snakes cohabit in the same spaces as humans, thriving in India’s agricultural fields, forests and urban outskirts,” said John. “So, they often come into close contact with people and might bite them.”

    A study conducted between 1998 and 2014, called the Million Death Study, found that almost 58,000 people in India died from snakebite each year. Second to India in recorded snakebite deaths is Nigeria, with a reported 1,460 deaths per year. 

    The missing data

    “Though India had a severe snakebite problem, accurate data on snakebite deaths in India was elusive for a long time,” said Dr. Ravikar Ralph, a physician at the Poison Control Centre at CMC Vellore.

    In 2011, the official reported number of snakebite deaths was only 11,000. The deaths reported in the Million Death Study highlighted the severe underreporting of snakebite mortality in the country.

    “This is because most studies available at the time were hospital-based, which led to the gross under-reporting of this issue,” said Ralph. “We knew from grassroots work that most patients were not reaching hospitals on time.”

    “Either people didn’t realize that being bitten by a snake required medical management, or they went to traditional healers, causing fatal delays in hospital-based care,” said Ralph. “The Million Death Study used community-based data collection to circumvent that barrier and document accurate numbers.”

    Harvesting the cure

    Snakebites are unique compared to other health issues. Snake venom, a potent mix of proteins, can destroy tissue, paralyze muscles and impair blood clotting, often leading to severe disability which is most likely loss of limbs which were bitten or death if untreated.

    “Unlike diseases caused by other agents such as viruses or bacteria where one can eliminate the causing agent, a similar approach cannot be taken for snakebites,” Ralph said.

    Antivenom is the only specific treatment that can prevent or reverse many of the effects of snakebite, when given early and in the right dosage.

    To produce antivenom, snake venom must be first collected, or “milked,” from live snakes kept in a specialized facility. Only one facility in India, located in Tamilnadu, harvests venom for anti-venom production in India.

    The venom is then diluted and injected in small doses into animals like horses, prompting their immune systems to produce antibodies. These antibodies are then harvested, purified and processed into antivenom.

    But India’s only anti-snake venom treatment targets only The Big Four snakes.

    “There are over 50 venomous snake species in India,” said Gnaneshwar Ch, project lead of the Snake Conservation and Snakebite Mitigation project at the Madras Crocodile Bank Trust.

    “The anti-snake venom’s limited scope means bites from less common species remain inadequately treated,” he said

    Despite its importance, antivenom is also not widely available, and its cost can be prohibitive for many rural families. The gaps in stocking and distribution further worsen the issue.

    While many countries produce antivenom, they tend to cater to the locally available species of snakes making it impractical to import it from other countries to India in order to solve the availability crisis.

    A national action plan

    The WHO has called for concerted global action to reduce deaths and disability in priority nations. In 2019, the WHO launched an international strategy for preventing and controlling snakebite, which was then regionally adapted for Southeast Asia and published in 2022.

    The Indian Union Health Ministry then launched the National Action Plan for the Prevention and Control of Snakebite Envenoming (NAPSE) in March 2024. The NAPSE aligns strategically with the WHO’s global roadmap and its regional adaptation for Southeast Asia.

    Many stakeholders need to join forces in order to balance snakebite mitigation with snake conservation, experts say.

    “Snakes tend to be very important to every ecosystem they are found in,” said Dr. Sushil John. “If snake numbers fall, we would see an increase in rodents which the snakes keep in check by eating. They would then destroy crops and spread diseases to animals and people.”

    While this strategy appears to be heading in the right direction, some experts caution that there might be barriers to implementation.

    “While public hospitals may adopt the reporting system, many Indians seek private health care,” said Professor Sakthivel Vaiyapuri, a venom pharmacologist at the University of Reading in England. “Mechanisms to ensure private hospitals comply with reporting requirements are essential.”

    Vaiyapuri helped work on the National Action Plan. He said health workers who are to report snakebite must understand the significance of their role which will motivate them to record the data accurately. He also said someone must verify the entered data independently to ensure accuracy. He suggests developing a mobile app to streamline data collection.

    While Vaiyapuri worries about the logistics of implementing such a plan for massive surveillance, there are also other worries about unintended consequences for snakebite victims, according to Dr. Anand Zachariah, a toxicologist at CMC Vellore.

    “When India made maternal deaths notifiable, many private clinics in India stopped treating high-risk pregnancies because they worried about the reporting process getting them in trouble if something went south,” said Zachariah. “I fear snakebite becoming a notifiable disease might trigger such defensive practices among physicians.”

    But he admits that at this point, the fear is only theoretical; what will eventually happen remains to be seen.

    “Despite the challenges, I think [the National Action Plan] is a pivotal initiative in tackling snakebite envenomation in India,” Vaiyapuri said.

    “By fostering accurate data collection, promoting intersectoral collaboration and engaging communities, the plan holds significant potential to drive meaningful change — ensuring effective prevention, timely treatment and a significant reduction in snakebite-related deaths and disabilities,” Vaiyapuri said.

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  • Can we manage disasters that are no longer anomalies?

    Can we manage disasters that are no longer anomalies?

    In July 2024, the state of Kerala in southern India was struck by a massive landslide that devastated several villages, including Punchirimattam, Chooralmala and Mundakkai. The impact was catastrophic: nearly 300 people died and hundreds more injured. 

    This tragedy, triggered by unprecedented rainfall during the monsoon season, drew attention to a stark and growing concern: India’s ability to manage and mitigate the increasing frequency of natural disasters effectively. 

    Over the past few years, India has witnessed an alarming rise in the intensity and frequency of natural disasters, be it floods, heatwaves, cyclones or landslides. 

    This surge is being driven by the changing climate. With global warming altering weather patterns, India finds itself vulnerable to an array of disasters that threaten its people, infrastructure and economy. In response, there are calls for legislative reform, particularly an overhaul of the Disaster Management Act of 2005, so that the country will be better prepared to respond to natural disasters. 

    India’s experience can serve as a lesson for other nations in the region and globally. 

    Breathtaking landscapes become landslides.

    Kerala, located in southwest India on the Malabar Coast, is renowned for its lush landscapes, tranquil backwaters and tea plantations. The state is no stranger to monsoon rains, but in July 2024 it faced a sudden, violent landslide that wreaked havoc in the hilly region of Wayanad. 

    These areas, often prone to landslides, were overwhelmed by incessant rainfall, which led to soil erosion and a massive collapse of hillsides. 

    The villages of Punchirimattam, Chooralmala and Mundakkai were hit the hardest, with homes and buildings buried under tons of mud. Most residents were asleep when the disaster struck before dawn, leaving little time for evacuation. The landslides not only caused a tremendous loss of life but also rendered thousands homeless, further deepening the crisis. 

    In the aftermath, rescue operations were launched swiftly by the National Disaster Management Authority (NDMA), the Indian Army and the Air Force, along with local government authorities and communities. 

    Ramakrishnan, a tea estate employee in Mundakkayam, said that emergency relief included immediate financial assistance of Rs. 3,000 per individual. To put that into context 3,000 rupees is about U.S. $35 and the average person in Kerala earns the equivalent of about U.S $23,000 per year. They also received food and medical supplies. 

    Helping people after a disaster

    Affected families were relocated to temporary shelters, and school-going children were enrolled in nearby schools to continue their education. The National Disaster Response Force and state disaster funds provided crucial support for these efforts. 

    Yet, despite these swift actions, the Kerala government’s request for additional federal support, under the provisions of the Disaster Management Act, was delayed. 

    By October 2024, the High Court of Kerala had raised concerns about the delay in the disbursement of relief funds. This incident highlights some of the systemic flaws in India’s current disaster management framework — flaws that have become increasingly apparent as natural disasters grow in scale and frequency. 

    While the Wayanad landslide is one of the deadliest in recent memory, it is far from an isolated event. Over the last few years, India has experienced a disturbing rise in natural disasters, exacerbated by climate change. 

    In 2020, according to the United Nations Disaster Risk Reduction’s Prevention Web, the northeastern state of Assam faced catastrophic flooding that affected over five million people, leaving much of the region submerged. Back in 2018, the Indian Express newspaper reported that dust storms in Rajasthan not only caused widespread destruction but also revealed significant gaps in the country’s disaster management infrastructure, such as the lack of effective early warning systems and inadequate public awareness campaigns.

    Similarly, heatwaves, which have always been a concern in India, are becoming more extreme and frequent, leading to an increase in deaths and health crises.

    Inequity in disaster management

    Some weather events seem to get more attention than others, said Prathiksha Ullal, an advocate whose interests lie primarily at the intersection of environmental law and feminist perspectives. 

    “Despite heat waves being a major concern, they receive little attention, whereas cold waves are highlighted in discussions in the Lok Sabha [lower house of India’s Parliament],” Ullal said. 

    These disasters, which are often compounded by inadequate infrastructure and preparation, point to the urgent need for a restructured disaster management framework that can adapt to the growing threats posed by climate change. 

    The Disaster Management Act of 2005 was enacted to provide a comprehensive framework for disaster preparedness, response and recovery In response to India’s vulnerability to natural disasters. The act established the NDMA to coordinate disaster management efforts at the national level, as well as State Disaster Management Authorities (SDMAs) to manage disasters within individual states.

    The 2005 Act was an important step forward, but under it, there is confusion over the roles of national, state and local authorities in response to disasters; it doesn’t allocate enough money for disaster preparedness or response; and it doesn’t address climate-induced disasters such as heatwaves, droughts and extreme rainfall events. 

    This has made the framework less relevant in an era where climate change is increasingly contributing to the frequency and severity of disasters.

    Improving how a government responds to disasters

    Recognizing the shortcomings of the 2005 Act, the Indian government has proposed amendments to strengthen the country’s disaster management framework. The Disaster Management (Amendment) Bill of 2024 seeks to address many of these issues and build a more robust system to tackle the growing threat of natural disasters. 

    One of the central features of the bill is the strengthening and increased funding of the NDMA and the establishment of state disaster response forces. 

    The amendment aims to improve response times and coordination during disasters by providing state governments with more autonomy and resources. The bill also emphasizes disaster risk reduction, which focuses on preventing and mitigating the impact of disasters before they occur. This is a shift away from the previous focus solely on response and recovery. 

    Critics argue that the bill still centralizes too much power in the hands of the central government, limiting the autonomy of local authorities. Additionally, the bill’s failure to explicitly include climate-induced disasters, such as heatwaves and droughts, means that it may not fully address the risks posed by climate change. 

    India’s vulnerability to natural disasters is closely linked to the impacts of climate change. Rising temperatures, unpredictable monsoons and increased frequency of extreme weather events are all exacerbating the country’s disaster risk.

    State-specific disasters

    The 2024 Amendment Bill does begin to address climate change by incorporating disaster risk reduction as a key component, but it does not go far enough. For instance, heatwaves — which have become a major concern in India — are not adequately covered. 

    The DT Next newspaper reported that the South Indian state of Tamil Nadu has taken the initiative to declare heatwaves a state-specific disaster, enabling them to provide relief and take preventive measures. However, this is a localized response, and a more comprehensive national approach is needed. 

    The bill also does not fully address the role of technology in disaster management. Experts suggest that incorporating artificial intelligence and real-time data monitoring systems could significantly improve India’s ability to predict, track and respond to disasters. According to the AI company Ultralytics, AI models can be trained to provide early warning systems and help reduce the impacts of natural disasters.

    For example, predictive modeling and vulnerability mapping could help authorities better prepare for floods, landslides or heatwaves by identifying high-risk areas and populations. 

    India’s disaster management struggles are not unique. Bangladesh, Nepal, the Philippines and other countries in the region face similar challenges, with frequent floods, cyclones and landslides causing significant loss of life and economic damage. 

    India’s evolving approach to disaster management, particularly through the Amendment Bill, could serve as a model for these countries, helping them build more resilient systems for managing climate-related disasters. 

    The tragic landslide in Wayanad serves as a poignant reminder of the increasing vulnerability of India’s communities to natural disasters. While immediate relief efforts were swift and commendable, they also underscored the need for deeper, systemic changes in how India manages its disaster response. 

    In the face of escalating natural disasters, India has the opportunity to lead the way in developing disaster management policies that are not only reactive but proactive. 


     

    Questions to consider:

    1. What can cause a landslide in parts of India?
    2. What was wrong with the Disaster Management Act of 2005?
    3. What are some dangers climate change poses in your area?


     

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  • The Harsh Truth Behind the Los Angeles Wildfires (Stephanie Pincetl)

    The Harsh Truth Behind the Los Angeles Wildfires (Stephanie Pincetl)

    UCLA Professor Stephanie Pincetl is calling the wildfires in Los Angeles a biblical catastrophe that was at least a century in the making. Pincell teaches at the UCLA Institute of the Environment and Sustainability and is director of the California Center for Sustainable Communities, specializing in land use and the interaction between urban development and wildfire risks,

     


     

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