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. Let me first discuss what we learned from examining indigenous perspectives. A major challenge in environmental studies is detecting trends against a background of considerable variation. People who are intimately connected to their surroundings have a great advantage in identifying subtle changes. One observation I have heard from all around the Arctic is that the weather is no longer predictable. Elders used to be able to predict the weather, and now they cannot. This is not simply a problem of lost skills from one generation to the next, for it is often the same individuals who now can no longer tell what the weather will do. Examining weather records suggests that some patterns are indeed changing, such as the frequency of storms bringing relatively warm air from the Bering Sea to northern Alaska in spring. Indigenous perspectives are also valuable in assessing the implications of such changes. One case study in the ACIA addresses the consequences of a late fall freeze-up in Kotzebue, Alaska. For nearly every component of the human and ecological system, there are gains and losses when winter arrives late. For example, red foxes have better access to prey, but more competition from arctic foxes stuck on land before sea ice forms. People in Kotzebue may harvest more whitefish in total, but elders and children will not be able to participate because they usually fish on ice near shore. When freeze up is late, the ice will not have formed before the fish leave the area. Thus, changes cannot simply be regarded as "good" or "bad," "positive" or "negative." Instead, the implications of change quickly become complex. Additionally, climate change does not occur by itself. Society is changing, often rapidly, with major consequences for many aspects of life in the Arctic. Consider the effects of winter rain in Finnmark. Winter rain leads to ice on the ground, which makes it hard for reindeer to feed and worsens the impact of their feeding because they tear lichens and mosses out of the ground instead of grazing just the tops. A couple centuries ago, a herder might have been able to move the herd to a different area to avoid the ice after a rain. Today, land status is much more rigid, and the herder may no longer be able to move the herd. If climate change means winter rain will become more common, the combination of social and climate change will produce a much greater impact on the herder than either change alone. We can imagine how these changes affect people. From documenting the words of Arctic residents themselves, however, we can get an even better sense of the personal, powerful impacts that climate change can have. People often describe climate change in very personal terms. For example, the reindeer herder Vladimir Lifov from Lovozero on the Kola Peninsula said: "Our income diminishes because of climate change, of course, and in a very drastic way. Even my wife has said that it would be time to forget the reindeer. But I tell her always: 'amara, we depend on these reindeer. If there are no reindeer, we have nothing to do here either." One can hear a combination of resilient affirmation of identity and the abyss of despair. Another view was offered by George Noongwook, a whaler from St. Lawrence Island, Alaska: "We cannot change nature, our past, and other people for that matter, but we can control our own thoughts and actions and participate in global efforts to cope with these global climate changes. That I think is the most empowering thing we can do as individuals." Now let me turn to what indigenous and local perspectives tell us about scientific understanding and assessment. There are many commentaries on the nature of science, and also many on the nature of indigenous knowledge. In this context, it is important to emphasize what they have in common: a basis in observation of the world, and merit in their ability to explain or predict. Terry Callaghan’s chapter of the ACIA on terrestrial ecosystems makes extensive use of indigenous knowledge as complement to scientific field studies, experiments, modeling, and other approaches. In one sense, indigenous knowledge is here treated as simply another source of information about climate and the environment. In another sense, the use of indigenous knowledge is a recognition that Arctic peoples are a part of the Arctic ecosystem, that their voices are important as we consider how climate is changing and what that means. Assessing the impacts of climate change in the Arctic is a major undertaking, and one that is highly worthwhile. In doing so, however, it is essential to recognize that we are discussing the homes and lives of many people from distinct cultures and traditions, whose future is already challenged by the modern world, and who now face additional pressure from a changing climate. Had the ACIA been conducted as a dry, academic exercise, it might have produced sound scientific results, but it would not have captured the heart of climate change in the Arctic. The inclusion of indigenous perspectives helped add vitality, urgency, and power to the rigor of the science, producing what I hope is a better result than either approach alone could have created.
©
2004 Center for International Climate and Environmental Research - Oslo
(CICERO). All rights reserved. |
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