The consequences of human-induced climate change are as diverse as the
adaptation strategies people have started to develop. Approaches to climate
change range from local initiatives to national and global programs and are
embedded in various knowledge systems and partially contesting world views.
This special issue aims to improve the understanding of those dynamics that
are linked to knowledge, power, and communication when adapting to the
diverse repercussions of climate change. The communication and integration
of this situated knowledge are considered crucial for fair and transparent
climate change adaptation measures. However, this integration is also
described as problematic, highlighting different epistemologies, competing
political agendas, societal and economic inequalities, and clashing
ontologies. The impact of climate change on society is currently discussed
mostly in terms of adaptation, resilience, and vulnerability. Ideas of
adaptation are often regarded as “neutral” drivers of action and seem to be
“the only viable option for survival” (de Wit 2014, 57). However, the
rationalities which characterize current adaptation concepts are criticized
because they have been shaped predominantly by the natural sciences and
ignore aspects of climate justice as well as social, cultural, political,
and economic conditions on the ground (Nightingale et al. 2020).
Scholars from the environmental humanities, including folklorists, who focus
on knowledge-power relations, diverse actors, and the different crises
narratives which shape the development, communication, and application of
adaptational strategies, have underlined the need to overcome the
naturalizations and depoliticizations of climate change adaptations (Klepp
& Chavez-Rodriguez 2018). These scholars demand a critical examination
of the biopolitical implications of adaptation concepts (Taylor 2015), such
as inclusion and exclusion processes, and call for approaches sensitive to
cultural diversity, power relations, economic interests, and rationalities
in adaptation settings which include postcolonial and decolonizing research
perspectives (Chaktabarty 2012). These kinds of research approaches are also
meant to enforce the use of local environmental knowledge (Barnes et al.
2013; Eriksen 2021; Klepp & Fünfgeld 2021)—often expressed in
agricultural heritage, traditional craftsmanship (Bakels & Bisschop
2023), or particular modes of storytelling (Hermann & Kempf 2018;
Fatorić & Egberts 2020)—and transcend dichotomies between humans and
their environments. Thus, they also open up to different ontologies
regarding nature(s) and new emerging rights discourses (Burgers
&den Outer 2021). An increasing number of “natural
entities”—forests, rivers, mountains – are recognized globally as legal
entities with enforceable rights. 1
Nevertheless, the recognition of legal subjectivity and consequent legal
rights over natural entities is not sufficient, because it does not question
the principle behind the capitalist accumulation mechanism that first made
nature separate and appropriable, which is the same mechanism now making it
an object of protection. This is a classic analysis of capitalism: nature is
described and produced as an entity external to society, either in terms of
objective reality and, therefore, commodifiable, or insurmountable limits
that require the recalibrating of optimistic and unilinear models of
economic growth within the new oxymoron of sustainable development. This
nature/society dichotomy, from Descartes and Bacon onward, has been the
basis of Western capitalist ontology (Patel & Moore 2017). This also
implies a hierarchy of power in which the human dominates nature, and what
is, occasionally, described as natural is, by subtraction, defined by what
is not human, following specific strategies of domination and
subalternization:
The human ‘separation from nature’ took shape around a truly massive
exclusion. The rise of capitalism gave us the idea not only that society was
relatively independent of the web of life, but also that most women,
Indigenous Peoples, slaves and colonized peoples everywhere were not fully
human and thus not full members of society. These were people who were not –
or were only barely – human. They were part of Nature, treated as social
outcasts – they were cheapened.(Patel & Moore 2017,
24)
Cheapness, depreciation being the core strategy of capitalistic
accumulation, through the relationships of life is made into the circuits of
production and consumption at “as low a price as possible” (Patel &
Moore 2017). However, the ecological crisis and climate change prove
dramatically, now more than ever, that nature is never cheap (Moore 2014,
2015). One cannot address climate change without questioning capitalism as a
specific ecological regime (cheap nature, Moore 2011) and its reductivist
dualistic ontology.
This special issue aims to improve the understanding of those dynamics that
are linked to knowledge, power, and communication when adapting to the
diverse repercussions of climate change. The contributing authors focus in
their ethnographic case studies on the producing, distributing,
communicating, and contesting of knowledge in different geopolitical and
social contexts, ranging from dealing with the spreading of algae on Mexican
beaches to the increase of ticks in Finland, and from participatory energy
practices in Italy to the unexpected results of climate change adaptation
workshops in Vanuatu.
Different questions are addressed in the contributions corresponding to
broader discussions of climate change adaptations we, as editors, would like
to take up in this introduction. We will refer to discussions on different
engagements with climate change policies, the use of cultural heritage and
traditional knowledge in climate change adaptation, and the necessity of
developing more-than-human research and policy perspectives to decenter and
enrich human-centered approaches in climate adaptation research.
Engaging with Climate Change Policies
The fight against the repercussions of anthropogenic climate change has
taken shape in diverse forms of legal and political instruments: extending
from the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, to the Green
Deal of the European Union and its implementations on the national level of
the member states, and to communal or local instruments. Instead of an
evaluation on how the projected aims of these policies have been achieved,
our contributions, in the spirit of an anthropology of policies, instead
ask: “How do people engage with policy and what do they make of it?” (Shore
& Wright 2011, 8). This question implies further questions relating to
the appropriation of climate change policies and how they are framed in
different settings.
Vanuatu is a Small Island Development State (SIDS) in Oceania which is
severely affected by the consequences of climate change. In his article,
Arno Pascht discusses the effects on Ni-Vanuatu communities that are in the
focus of many international climate change policies, including on the
ground, climate change workshops. These are often organized by mobile
international consultants that follow a rather Western service and
profit-oriented logic. The workshops are meant to deliver visible outcomes
within a short time (Klepp & Fünfgeld 2021) working with what Keele
calls “actionable climate knowledge” (2019, 9), which is based on a
classical dichotomy between nature and culture. Pascht discusses how well
the villagers link their traditional knowledge and practices of diversifying
their livelihoods to the new challenges of climate change—modifying or
neglecting the knowledge offered by the climate change adaptation workshops
based on Western knowledge that does not fit their needs and
socio-ecological imaginaries.
On the contrary, in a case study illustrated by Laura K. Otto, climate
change adaptation policies in Mexico follows the logic of capitalism and
commodification, and is far away from activating local or traditional
knowledge. The regional and national government’s response to the harmful
coastal Sargassum algae bloom prioritizes the whims of the tourism industry
instead of focusing on the needs of coastal communities and their livelihood
securities as much as on the environment. It becomes obvious that policies
of climate change adaptation or so-called “second-order effects” of climate
change regarding the effects of climate change policies bear the great risk
of creating new vulnerabilities and injustices for these already
marginalized communities.
However, while the insight into the necessity of
climate protection policies and adaptation efforts is growing, the design
and goal of these politics and measures are contested, also in societies of
the Global North (Adloff & Neckel 2020). The question of which structural
changes and social innovations are required, or whether only minor changes
in (environmental) policy and the use of technical solutions are sufficient,
is disputed (Nightingale et al. 2020). The contribution of Monica Musolino,
Fabio Mostaccio, Erika D’Aleo, and Agatino Nicita regarding two communities
in Northern and Southern Italy where cooperative cohousing management
practices promote the emergence of shared energy consumption shows how
initiatives for climate mitigation, energy independence of communities, and
a deeper, structural transformation can trigger social innovation dynamics.
Based on the idea of sharing and caring, we can learn from this case study
that climate change might also work as a resource and a catalyst for
desirable social innovation.
Approaching and Coping with Climate Change through Storytelling,
Narratives, and Cultural Heritage
Scholars from different disciplines (Nisbet 2018), and surely, not least,
folklore scholars, ethnologists, and anthropologists, have broadly
investigated how climate change is communicated, narratively framed, and
translated: for instance, from metric data into societal discourses calling
for action (Becker 2020), in terms of climate knowledge and climate justice
(Flor 2020), or with reference to different climate change temporalities
(Kverndokk et al. 2021). Storytelling is considered an
adaptation strategy to bring forward local ecological knowledge and support
communities affected by severe impacts of climate change leading to
migration and a tearing apart of social and cultural relations.2
The Ni-Vanuatu create new local ontologies of climate change speaking of
klaemet jenj and envaeromen. Pascht argues that these
should not be understood as literal translations into the local Bislama
language but rather as ontological innovations more apt to their holistic
world view. Here, the Western concept of climate change, which is linked
more to natural science explanations of changing environments, is altered
and narratively linked to social degradation and capitalist lifestyles—what
could better illustrate the socio-ecological crisis of our times than such a
relational socio-ecological concept of climatic change?
The building of cohousing/energy communities looked at by Monica Musolino,
Fabio Mostaccio, Erika D’Aleo, and Agatino Nicita centers on mutual trust.
The authors show how trust is established in this community by cocreating a
“suitable language” that enables all of the heterogenous community members
to follow and participate in the learning of ecologically as much as
socially more sustainable ways of living, and goes far beyond the simple
employment of new technical reconfigurations.
Changing environments can be fundamentally distressing and emotionally
harmful—an emotional state that philosopher Glenn Albrecht calls
solastalgia
(2005). Sanna Lillbroända-Annala, in her Finnish case study on human-tick
relations, employs this term to describe people’s perception of nature and
their behavior in the outdoors, which has changed dramatically due to the
increase of ticks because of climate change. For many people fearing
diseases transmitted by ticks, carefree days in the garden or the forest
belong in the past. When discussing the narratives of loss and pain over a
“risk-free” nature she finds in newspaper articles, social media entries as
much as in the results of questionnaires, Lillbroända-Annala demonstrates
how the “new risks of nature” have led to certain novel habits as a form of
adaptation.
Intangible cultural heritage (ICH) operates through the awareness of local
knowledge and skills as well as connected traditions, customs, stories, and
narratives (UNESCO 2022). The knowledge and skills expressed in intangible
heritage provide its practitioners with a sense of identity and continuity.
Taking place in the present, ICH has relationships with the past, but is,
above all, understood as a practice of future-making (Harrison, 2020).
The ICH bearers transmit their knowledge and skills to future generations.
The potential of intangible heritage, and heritage in general, as a resource
for climate change management and sustainable futures is well-documented
(Bakels & Elpers 2021; Ballard et al. 2022, 16), however, it seems to be
relatively underutilized by policymakers (Fatorić & Egberts 2020, 1 and
6; Wagner 2023). UNESCO’s strong emphasis on intangible heritage as a source
of community-based resilience which can drive climate change adaption and
mitigation, and the organization’s call to state parties to “promote access
to and transmission of knowledge concerning the earth and the climate”
should lead to communication and coordination between all relevant sectors
(culture, environment, climate) and foster inclusive policies that link ICH
and climate action (UNESCO 2022, Chapter VI.3).
Those policies should also recognize the passive components of intangible
heritage: as ICH is linked to specific ecosystems, it can contribute to a
more resilient approach to climate change, but, at the same time, is at risk
of being lost if climate change affects the environment (e.g. Wagner 2023
for the South Pacific region).
The 2023 multinational nomination of the traditional sustainable
agricultural technique of grassland irrigation for the UNESCO
Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity
is presently receiving a lot of attention. This under-acknowledged method
used in Austria, Belgium, Germany, Italy, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, and
Switzerland involves a sophisticated system in which grasslands are
irrigated by water from rivers, streams, and springs. It uses gravitational
force and relies on manually created constructions, such as channels and
ditches, to distribute water from naturally occurring water catchment points
closer to the fields. The nomination file describes the traditional
irrigation as “a community-based, sustainable, adaptable, energy-independent
and biodiversity-minded water supply solution in agriculture that is of
great importance to the practitioners themselves and the wider communities
of people collaborating or profiting from its impact on the environment”
(Nomination file no. 01979). Anthropologists, ethnologists, heritage
experts, and others will have to explore how the UNESCO instrument of
listing grassland irrigation as ICH will have effects in the future: which
knowledge resources will be mobilized, and in which way this intervention of
heritage policy may have an impact on climate change policies and the
further development of climate adaptation measures (SIEF 2021).3
Climate Change Adaptation in More-than-Human Entanglements
It goes without saying that changing climate conditions do not affect humans
alone but all living beings and their environments; starving polar bears
losing habitat and hunting grounds due to melting ice caps are by far the
most iconic image of the climate crisis. Even though these multiple “others”
experience severe harm and existential threats (e.g. Bastian & Hawitt
2023), besides some charismatic animals, they have received little attention
in current Western discussions on climate justice. In order to enrich and
decenter this human-centered approach, calls for multispecies justice have
become louder, demanding climate-just futures with, for, and beyond humans
(Celermajer et al. 2021); a perspective that also seems much more in line
with non-Western and nondualistic perceptions and ontologies of nature and
culture.
However, there are also species which adapt and gain from changing weather
conditions as they can increase their reproductive cycles or expand their
habitat. The contributions of Sanna Lillbroända-Annala on ticks moving
increasingly towards northern areas and of Laura K. Otto on the propagation
of Sargassum algae landing on Mexican beaches demonstrate this vividly.
These new multispecies relations are anything but welcome: in both case
studies, there are worries about health risks, even though in the case study
of Mexican coastal communities, these are overshadowed by an outcry of the
tourist industry losing attractive destinations. Another realm severely
affected by new more-than-human entanglements promoted by climate
variabilities is agriculture, where the spreading of pests has increased
(Peselmann 2023). These harm vegetal, animal, and eventually also human life
by putting food security and economic survival of particularly small-scale
farmers at risk (FAO 2022). Animals and particularly plants can develop
strategies to adapt to new climatic conditions – usually over a longer
period of time. These processes are often enforced and accelerated by human
intervention, such as the breeding of new and more resistant varieties (with
or without the assistance of biotechnology). The development of modified
plant varieties can still lead to a maladaptation if political structures
and economic conditions do not support a transition: the introduction of new
plant varieties with their specific needs might also increase the
dependencies of growers and, thereby, their vulnerability, as is shown in
the fight against coffee leaf rust in Mexico, a fungus which profits from
climatic variabilities (Ruiz-de-Oña & Merlin-Uribe 2021).
Attempts have been made toward an allyship with plants to support the
mitigation of climate change repercussions. In Pascht’s article,
participants of a workshop on climate change adaptation are encouraged to
collaborate with gliricidia sepium, a tree meant to fix nitrogen in
the soil and, thus, fertilize the surrounding ecosystem. This experiment
failed, but there are other more successful approaches that include the
planting of trees and other vegetation to reduce surface and air
temperatures by providing shade and through evapotranspiration—an effect
used especially to deal with heat islands in urban environments (e.g.
Dümpelmann 2020).
To summarize, this collection of articles
demonstrates the potential for developing more effective and just climate
change adaptation policies and interventions through the utilization of ICH,
traditional knowledge, and localized multispecies relationships. To put
these concepts into practice, we must explore, analyze, and scrutinize
climate adaptation as a powerful tool of governance and future-making.
Heritage expert Janna oud Ammerveld responds in her article to the
contributions of this issue and questions the concept of adaptation as a
human challenge. She calls for humanities scholars to develop their core
concepts and research methods to address these issues. Adaptation seems to
her to be referring to a seemingly well-balanced past that we need to give
up and, instead, accept a changed future we do not feel comfortable with nor
ready for. She suggests replacing the concept of adaptation with
solastalgia
as it contains, in her understanding, more of a much-needed awareness and
sentiment of the presence. Furthermore, she proposes looking for a
solastalgia
for the future, asking the question of “what’s ahead that we desire?” The
humanities have a crucial role to play when looking for answers to this
question for a desirable world under the conditions of climate change. The
humanities, with their epistemological heritage, methods and analytical
frameworks, are key to understanding people and their cultural resources in
changing ecological times. We should make the discipline’s expertise and
resources accessible and jump deeper into the messy realities, normative
discussions, and political struggles for a just transformation.