We watched the events of this year unfold from our couches. News of the pandemic’s spread had most of the population home and baking, breaking out board games and books to alleviate boredom. When election week got too stressful, or we read about yet another jihadist attack, or another Black American’s arrest gone disturbingly wrong, or the latest statistics on worsening climate change, we fought back with activism, yes, but also with self care. We watch the news on our couches, with our loved ones, light scented candles and buy another fluffy blanket as the cold weather sets in, as we contemplate the world’s most deeply rooted inequities. It is our right—self care is crucial to sustaining mental health so that we have the energy to keep fighting for change. But it’s also a luxury denied to the very people we fight for. As we munch on our homemade sourdough starters and shake our heads at the latest “presidential” tweet, there are people around the world who are so affected by global events that they lose, rather than retreat to, the homes they want to feel just as safe in as we do ours. Migrants and refugees have been a historical reality as long as the concept of borders has existed, but the causes of flight, the perils of that process, and its longterm ramifications are now more interconnected and alarming than ever.
In my most recent articles, I examined the links between climate change and natural disasters like droughts, hurricanes, and wildfires. Events like these, but also places with conditions of less immediacy, which nonetheless experience the effects of a changing climate, make many of the world’s most vulnerable places unlivable, resulting in migration. Such migration can occur within a country but also across national borders and even across continents. These movements and influxes of large, heterogeneous groups of migrants and refugees are both caused by environmental degradation and often unwitting contributors to that very same process. Yet despite, and perhaps because of this vicious cycle, humanitarian efforts to support these groups, especially during a global pandemic, are more crucial both to the wellbeing of migrants and to the environment than perhaps ever before.
While migration can be spurred by a variety of push and pull factors, when one examines the climate/environment as a catalyst for movement, there are several main causes, as outlined in this study. Migration induced by environmental disasters, like those mentioned above, is one. Migration caused by longterm environmental degradation, like resource strain due to overpopulation, is another main cause. Finally, long term effects of climate change like rising sea levels and shifts in disease patterns due to changes in weather regimes and temperature change also drives migration.
While the idea of migration might most readily bring to mind the entrance and assimilation of large groups from political conflict areas into the West, the reality of migration is nuanced, occurring over vastly different timelines and over varying geographic scales. Whether the movement is international or simply regional, the amount of people migrating, the reason for their migration, and the resources available for their support upon arrival all have ramifications both for the environment in the receiving territory and for the migrants themselves. Studies of internal migration show that “settlement into marginal and fragile ecosystems in [Least Developed countries] have led to desertification, deforestation and other environmental degradation.” Another study finds that migration from developing to developed countries causes an absolute increase in global emissions not just from the process of movement but also from environmental damage in the areas in which they settle. In developed countries, this means increased total emissions as migrant populations settle into the energy consumption patterns associated with higher income level urban areas, as well as loss of biodiversity, soil quality, deforestation, water pollution, and deterioration of natural areas responsible for carbon sequestration for migrants who settle in and develop more rural areas. These problems make living in migrant settled areas difficult not just for existing local populations but also for the migrants themselves.
The environmental problems in connection with the multiple stages of migration result from a lack of efficient management and planning. Understandably, the immediate wellbeing of refugee populations is the priority, but approaching the task of planning a refugee settlement cannot be dictated by short-term goals when such settlements are often longterm establishments, existing on average for 17 years. This is long enough to irreversibly damage the local environment of the settlement. Camp overcrowding, while a humanitarian issue, is also an environmental one, as local water and tree supplies diminish dangerously. The UNHCR created a tool to assess environmental impact in 2005, yet the focus remains on a “curative” rather than prevention-oriented approach. In some places, if the potential financial and social burden of supporting refugees does not dissuade a host country from accepting refugees, the damage to the environment that persists long after might act as a disincentive for aid. This article points out that after examining case studies in rural camps like that of 80,000 Nigerian refugees in Northern Cameroon and Syrian refugee camps in urban Lebanon, it is clear that “despite the gradual introduction of the term “environment” as a cross-cutting issue in policies and strategies, environmental issues are generally perceived as being separate from the humanitarian sector…humanitarian crises can have a significant impact on the natural environment, particularly when these are prolonged crises.”
Migration, whether for political, environmental, or other reasons, is predicted to increase in the coming decades, but it must do so in a way that protects both the displaced groups and their destinations. Establishing new urban centers in migratory destinations is one proposed sustainable solution. As a whole, planning and facilitating migration as a lifesaving option for vulnerable groups that does not jeopardize future environmental health must be prioritized in the conversation on migration, not just in addition to humanitarian aims but as a humanitarian aim in itself.
This year, the pandemic raised many questions about borders, international rights, and the priorities of governments. Within weeks of COVID-19’s spread across the globe, travel between the Unites States and Europe, and indeed between European countries, halted—and still has not been completely restored. In difficult times, the instinct of many is to protect those closest to them: family, neighbors, those with the same nationality. Asylum procedures were similarly disrupted. Displaced people became some of the most vulnerable to exposure to the virus due to cramped living conditions and shared resources, and their need was more urgent than ever. The pandemic serves as a powerful reminder of the world’s connectedness, but also of how differently people experience the same problems. Climate change causes migration, which causes environmental degradation and furthers the spread of the virus, which might lead to more inaction on climate change as leaders struggle to deal with the most immediate global issues at the direct expense of ongoing ones; it’s a brutal cycle that can only be broken with empathy, knowledge, and planning.
