In the face of accelerating climate change, many scientific institutions rely on advanced technologies like satellite imagery, weather models, and big data to monitor environmental shifts. Yet, for thousands of years, Indigenous Peoples have observed and interpreted climate changes through finely tuned systems of relational knowledge, deeply embedded in land-based practices and generational memory.
These Indigenous climate indicators are not just data points—they are stories, teachings, and warnings, passed down through time and rooted in the interdependence of human and ecological systems. They reflect a worldview where the land, water, sky, and all beings above, among and below are living relatives—each communicating shifts in the Earth’s balance.
What Are Indigenous Climate Indicators?
Indigenous climate indicators are grounded in the seasonal and cyclical patterns Indigenous communities observe over millennia. These indicators are often place-based, holistic, and interdisciplinary, integrating physical, spiritual, and relational dimensions of environmental change.
Some examples include:
- Inuit hunters observe ice thickness or quality changes, sometimes weeks before satellite images detect unsafe conditions.
- Unusual smells in freshwater bodies—an early sign of algal blooms or oxygen depletion.
- Mismatched seasonal events, like geese migrating before freeze-up, as reported by the Denesuline in the subarctic regions of Canada.
- The taste and texture of snow can indicate shifts in air composition or atmospheric pollution.
Unlike Western science, which often isolates variables, Indigenous knowledge systems understand change as part of a broader, interconnected ecological narrative, recognizing how a single disruption can cascade across entire ecosystems.
Language as Climate Memory
Indigenous languages are not only repositories of culture—they are also tools for reading the environment. For example:
- The Inuit term “Uggianaqtuq” is used in Nunavut to describe weather that feels “strange” or “unusual.” It doesn’t translate directly into English, because it expresses more than just observation—it communicates concern, deviation from the norm, and emotional or spiritual dissonance.
- In Mi’kma’ki, Elder Albert Marshall introduced the concept of “Etuaptmumk” or “Two-Eyed Seeing,” which promotes the use of both Indigenous and Western lenses when approaching climate solutions, valuing each perspective as equally valid and necessary.
These linguistic frameworks provide nuance and context that Western science often overlooks, particularly regarding early warnings and culturally appropriate responses to environmental change.
Why These Indicators Matter
Indigenous climate indicators often detect changes earlier than Western technologies, offering critical lead time to adapt or respond. For example:
- Inuit hunters in the Arctic have long reported thinner, unpredictable sea ice—well before NASA satellites confirmed the shrinking ice cap.
- Anishinaabe harvesters have observed the decline of manoomin (wild rice) as water levels, fish patterns, and shoreline plants shift, signalling broader watershed changes not immediately visible in hydrological data.
These indicators are also relational—they carry the weight of responsibility. When an Elder notices something “off” in the land, it is not merely recorded; it becomes a call to ceremony, action, or teaching.
Supporting the Integration of Knowledge Systems
Increasingly, collaborative climate initiatives are recognizing the power of Indigenous observation. Projects like the Indigenous Climate Change Observation Network (ICCON) and Two-Eyed Seeing research programs have begun to bridge knowledge systems through respectful partnerships.
However, more work remains to ensure that Indigenous Knowledge is incorporated and respected on its terms, with Indigenous data sovereignty, cultural protocols, and community ownership at the forefront.
Recommendations for Readers
- Advocate for Indigenous-Led Research
- Support climate funding streams prioritizing Indigenous-led monitoring, research, and land-based education. Encourage governments and institutions to include Indigenous Knowledge Keepers in environmental decision-making bodies.
- Promote Equitable Knowledge Partnerships
- Encourage universities, climate organizations, and weather services to engage in ethical, co-designed research with Indigenous communities, where Indigenous Peoples define what is studied, how data is used, and how outcomes are shared.
- Educate Yourself
- Watch the CBC documentary on “Etuaptmumk: Two-Eyed Seeing” to understand how Indigenous and Western science can work in harmony. Explore additional resources through the Indigenous Climate Change Observation Network.
- Respect Indigenous Data Sovereignty
- Climate data shared by Indigenous Peoples must remain within their control. Advocate for policies and agreements that uphold Indigenous intellectual property rights and data stewardship protocols.
Blog by Rye Karonhiowanen Barberstock
(Image Credit : Teunard Droog, Unsplash)
The post Indigenous Climate Indicators: Reading the Land Beyond Western Metrics appeared first on Indigenous Climate Hub.
Indigenous Climate Indicators: Reading the Land Beyond Western Metrics
Climate Change
Island nations fight to save cultural heritage from climate change
Farmers and fishermen in the Maldives have long relied on an ancient calendar to guide their daily lives.
The Nakaiy system divides the year into 27 distinct periods, each named after a star or constellation in the night sky.
Any one period in the calendar tells you about expected weather and tidal patterns, navigational routes, and fishing conditions. The Nakaiy was created through centuries of careful observation and local knowledge, passed down through families as an essential tool for survival.
But things are now changing. The climate crisis is leading to more extreme weather events across the Indian Ocean island nation and upending the Nakaiy calendar.
“When you go and speak to communities and ask them what kind of impacts they are facing, a lot of elders will tell you that the weather, it doesn’t follow the calendar anymore,” explained Aishath Reesha Suhail, a programme officer in the Maldives’ Ministry of Tourism and Environment.
As the effects of climate change worsen, it is a real prospect that the Nakaiy may be abandoned by local people, representing a major cultural loss to the Maldives.
‘Systemic and growing threat’
With extreme weather becoming the norm, communities are observing a domino effect of consequences in their everyday lives. The slow onset of heritage loss is now being seen across continents, but notably among small islands in remote parts of the ocean.
“Climate change represents a systemic and growing threat to cultural heritage worldwide,” a UNESCO spokesperson told Climate Home, adding that the World Heritage Committee has identified climate change as “one of the most significant long-term risks affecting properties across all regions.”
UNESCO, the UN body for education, science and culture, defines the loss of cultural heritage as “the erosion of traditional knowledge systems, craftsmanship, social practices and identity, particularly where communities are displaced or livelihoods disrupted”. A clear example is historical sites and even entire islands washed into the ocean as a result of rising sea levels and coastal erosion.
The Maldives is dealing with such a situation now. The Koagannu Cemetery is a 900-year-old resting place, located on the country’s southernmost atoll, a mere 50 metres from the shoreline. The monument’s intricate coral gravestones are being actively threatened by the encroaching Indian Ocean.
The government and local community have responded to this challenge with emergency protection measures. Sandbags and concrete structures have been installed along the coastline, complemented by large numbers of palm trees to create a seawall. A wider solution is ‘beach nourishment’, a common practice in the Maldives where sand from elsewhere is brought in to replace what has been lost through erosion. Taken together, these solutions have so far protected the cemetery.
Among the many issues climate change creates, cultural heritage is not always front of mind. In the Maldives, one of the main barriers people face is awareness. “Most of what we are dealing with relates to the erosion of our islands along with areas such as fisheries… but we are quite limited in our capacity to do something about it,“ Suhail said.
“We don’t understand the full breadth of the issue at present because we haven’t been able to do extensive research on the matter,” she added. However, assessing the extent of the damage – and how to respond effectively – is a key priority for the government, outlined in its latest climate plan, known as a Nationally Determined Contribution, and as part of its National Adaptation Plan process.
Fishing is at the core of the country’s culture and identity, employing thousands of people. Most dishes include fish – “we have it for breakfast, lunch and dinner,” Suhail noted – but the climate crisis and overfishing are shifting how and when communities can fish. Tuna makes up 98% of all fish caught in the Maldives, but warmer ocean temperatures are changing migratory patterns, pushing the species into deeper, colder waters.
As a critical economic and cultural resource, the government has outlined a range of solutions to protect the fisheries sector in its first Biennial Transparency Report to the UN. These include using real-time tracking data to improve the efficiency of fishing operations; investing in canneries to increase fish storage; and diversifying away from tuna through marine farming.


Culture and nature go hand-in-hand
The same pattern is playing out elsewhere.
Palau and the Maldives are not close to one another. The two states are separated by around 4,000 miles and sit in different corners of the ocean. But both are experiencing very similar climate challenges, based on their position as a set of scattered, low-lying islands surrounded by an imposing body of blue water.
In the same way as the Maldives, Palau’s cultural heritage is closely tied to “land, coastlines and traditional food systems,” according to Toni Soalabla, at the Palau Office of Climate Change.
“Many of the places that hold stories, history and identity of our communities are located along the coast and are increasingly exposed to erosion and sea level rise,” she said.
One of these places is Ngerutechei village, reportedly the oldest in Palau, and home to ancient stone paths and carvings. The village provides a glimpse into the past social values and culture of the people in this western Pacific nation.
As part of the development of Palau’s National Adaptation Plan, the government has worked with local leaders to identify similar sites of cultural significance. The plan encourages communities to use their own knowledge to create protective measures for these sites.
Climate change is also prompting communities to take up traditional land and food practices again. These include cultivating taro, a stable food source that has historically supported water, soil and food security on the islands.
“These systems developed over generations in response to local environmental conditions, so strengthening them today is both a climate adaptation measure and a way of maintaining cultural knowledge that might otherwise fade,” said Soalabla.
Cultural practices in Palau have developed alongside the natural ecosystems that people rely on to survive. It is within this context that researchers believe adaptation policies should be created. Recognising this relationship “can strengthen both community identity and environmental resilience at the same time”, according to Soalabla.




Heritage on the global stage
The issue of cultural loss has not gone unnoticed in international climate negotiations.
Small island states such as the Maldives have used their role at the UN to push for greater awareness and action, with some key successes.
In 2015, the Paris Agreement established a Global Goal on Adaptation (GGA) which recognised that countries needed to do something about climate change now and not later. However, it took six years before a framework and a set of adaptation targets were agreed at the UN climate summit in Glasgow to pursue this goal.
From this came the establishment of seven overall themes – from poverty eradication to access to health – to guide adaptation action and a set of around 60 indicators to measure progress against the targets.
World leaders invited to see Pacific climate destruction before COP31
Emilie Beauchamp, an adaptation specialist at the International Institute for Sustainable Development (IISD), said that “cultural heritage was highlighted as one of the global priorities [of the GGA Framework] and is one of the seven themes, so it is considered very important by the international community.”
The much-debated set of indicators, only finalised in Belém at last year’s COP30, include five related to cultural heritage with a focus on preserving cultural practices and important sites that are “guided by traditional knowledge, Indigenous Peoples’ knowledge and local knowledge systems”. A spokesperson for UNESCO said the inclusion of heritage indicators “marks an important recognition that climate impacts extend beyond economic losses”.
While critics said the set of final indicators was rushed through by the Brazilian presidency, they now serve as guidance for national governments that wish to implement plans to protect their common heritage. The missing piece of the puzzle remains how to finance these plans – something notably absent from the Belém text, which made clear that the adaptation indicators “do not create new financial obligations or commitments, nor liability or compensation”.
The lack of financial commitments proved disappointing for many small states grappling with how to prevent their cultural history from being entirely forgotten, especially at a time when adaptation finance remains below requirements. A recent UNEP report found that developing nations would need an estimated US$310 billion per year in 2035 to adapt to climate change, while current public financing was around $26 billion.
At these low levels “only a small percentage of what the framework outlines could be implemented,” according to Beauchamp.


The challenge of cultural heritage
When looking at low-lying islands on a map, they can appear as specks of land amid a vast ocean. Many of the stories from these remote places go unnoticed. But the specks represent millennia of human culture that is slowly being lost to the ocean.
While the international community has now recognised the problem and solutions exist, the recurring issue of scarce finance may prevent governments from taking sustained action. Island communities have already been forced to move home as sea levels rise, leaving behind their cultural connections to a place.
The value of any cultural asset, or of human heritage, can be judged by how it is engaged with over generations. Without human intervention, many historical sites, language, cuisine and other local customs would become a forgotten part of history. The rapid onset of climate change brings the role of cultural heritage into sharp relief, challenging communities to decide in real time what they value, what deserves saving, and how to achieve that.
Stories of cultural loss are not confined to small islands but it is here where the challenge is presenting most acutely. The experiences of these vulnerable nations in protecting their heritage will provide the litmus test for effective adaptation responses elsewhere.
Adam Wentworth is a freelance writer based in Brighton, UK.
(Main image: The Isdhoo Havitha is an ancient Buddhist monastery in the Maldives, located moments from the shoreline. Photo: Ashwa Faheem)
The post Island nations fight to save cultural heritage from climate change appeared first on Climate Home News.
Island nations fight to save cultural heritage from climate change
Climate Change
The Wabanaki Basketmakers’ Plans to Save Maine’s Ash Trees
The invasive emerald ash borer, native to northeast Asia, has spread to 37 states over the past quarter century, killing nearly all of the ash trees it infests. But in Maine, a coalition of basketmakers, scientists and government officials are plotting a future for their trees.
Each strip of wood in Richard Silliboy’s hands started as a year of an ash tree’s life.
Climate Change
Toxic Ocean Crisis in Papua New Guinea Sparks Mass Marine Die-Off and Public Health Emergency
Thousands of dead fish are washing ashore and people are falling ill too, as officials investigate possible sources of contamination.
It started in December, when dead fish began washing ashore New Ireland—a mountainous island in Papua New Guinea’s New Ireland Province, flanked by the Pacific Ocean and the Bismarck Sea.
Toxic Ocean Crisis in Papua New Guinea Sparks Mass Marine Die-Off and Public Health Emergency
-
Climate Change8 months ago
Guest post: Why China is still building new coal – and when it might stop
-
Greenhouse Gases8 months ago
Guest post: Why China is still building new coal – and when it might stop
-
Greenhouse Gases2 years ago嘉宾来稿:满足中国增长的用电需求 光伏加储能“比新建煤电更实惠”
-
Climate Change2 years ago
Bill Discounting Climate Change in Florida’s Energy Policy Awaits DeSantis’ Approval
-
Climate Change2 years ago嘉宾来稿:满足中国增长的用电需求 光伏加储能“比新建煤电更实惠”
-
Climate Change Videos2 years ago
The toxic gas flares fuelling Nigeria’s climate change – BBC News
-
Renewable Energy5 months agoSending Progressive Philanthropist George Soros to Prison?
-
Carbon Footprint2 years agoUS SEC’s Climate Disclosure Rules Spur Renewed Interest in Carbon Credits
