Climate change is no longer a distant threat; its impacts are unfolding now, forcing difficult questions about the future of human migration. In her book “Sink or Swim,” climate adaptation expert Susannah Fisher presents stark scenarios for 2070, where rising seas, extreme weather events, and resource scarcity drive mass displacement. These aren’t just projections; they explore tangible choices humanity faces, highlighting the urgency of planning now for a future reshaped by climate change.
Two Worlds Emerge:
Imagine two contrasting realities. In one, borders tighten as uninhabitable regions shrink. Countries facing water shortages erect barriers, leaving those displaced with limited options. Humanitarian aid struggles to keep pace, offering temporary relief but failing to address the underlying causes of displacement. A global divide emerges – a habitable zone populated by those fortunate enough to live in resilient areas and a “non-hab” zone encompassing increasingly desolate regions grappling with climate devastation. Desperation breeds unorthodox solutions: fractured communities experimenting with geoengineering in desperate attempts to salvage their lands.
The second scenario offers glimmers of hope amidst the challenges. In this world, coordinated international agreements enable managed migration triggered by climate disasters. Countries acknowledge responsibility for historical emissions and offer pathways for relocation – a lifeline extended by nations like those who once fueled global warming. Individuals receive “climate passports,” allowing them to choose destinations based on factors like opportunity and family ties.
Fossil fuel companies are held accountable through landmark legal cases, contributing to relocation funds for affected communities. Bangladesh, ravaged by cyclones, embraces the U.N.’s displacement facility, enabling families to settle in secondary cities offering stability and opportunities for education and new careers.
Finding Common Ground:
A Norfolk community uprooted by coastal erosion finds solace not just in a designated relocation program but also in agency – they shape their transition with government support, ensuring cultural continuity and ties to their former home. Meanwhile, an island nation embraces adaptation strategies like floating platforms and land reclamation, while simultaneously offering support for those who opt for migration. They forge what Fisher calls a “network nation,” rooted in resilience yet interconnected with diverse locations, blending tradition with the realities of climate-induced change.
These future narratives aren’t mere speculation; they highlight the profound choices humanity must make in the face of escalating climate impacts. They urge us to consider not only global solutions but also how individuals, communities, and nations navigate these complex transitions.
The path forward demands difficult conversations, a shift from reactive disaster response towards proactive adaptation strategies, and an acknowledgment that climate justice demands equitable burdens and benefits. The clock is ticking. Ignoring the stark realities Fisher presents risks sinking into an even more chaotic and inequitable future – leaving us with far fewer options than those explored in her compelling scenarios.
