The complex ways climate change is impacting our mental health
For many, the existential nature of the climate crisis inspires anxiety. But the toll of dislocation from land and culture can affect wellbeing differently. Laura Walters asks what we can learn from indigenous populations when responding to the mental health impacts of climate change. David Higgins thinks about his ancestors all the time. I look at their photographs lining the walls of my marae and reflect on the future of our marae and whanau. Higgins grew up in Moeraki, where he is now Upoko (traditional head of the hapu) of Te Runanga o Moeraki. He hopes Moeraki will be his final resting place. But things have changed in Higgins lifetime. READ MORE: * Scant mention of disabled community, despite higher risk of climate change impact * Activism, connecting with nature, talking - How young Kiwis are dealing with climate anxiety * Ecotherapy: Mental health and the climate crisis Growing up, he remembers bitterly cold winters, where the puddles froze over, and long hot summers. He remembers when and where they harvested the tuna from Waimataitai Lagoon, and the eel that sustained the community. He remembers the coastal areas where he walked and rode horses. But the weather, the climate, and the landscape are changing. During the past couple of decades, the storms have increased in frequency and ferocity. Species used in mahinga kai have been depleted or become extinct, and sea level rise and coastal erosion mean those areas that Higgins once trotted along are no longer available for his mokopuna. Its incredibly sad that they wont enjoy visiting these same places in the future, he says. While the Moeraki marae is not at risk from climate change, many around the country are . In the Ngai Tahu tribal area alone, 16 of the 18 marae are coastal. Meanwhile, historic pa sites, archaeological sites, and urupa are on borrowed time. In Moeraki lies one of Ngai Tahus most influential tribal leaders, Matiaha Tiramorehu. His final resting place may soon be underwater. Higgins is one of the kaitiaki responsible for taking care of the leaders resting place, and says the wider whanau has considered exhuming the contents of their urupa. The goal is relocating their tipuna, such as Matiaha, to a site that isnt at risk of climate change. But its not that simple. Some whanau are more than happy for the ocean to claim the urupa. Their ancestors migrated to New Zealand across Te Moana-nui-a-Kiwa, and in this way their tipuna would return to the sea. Higgins says the sad reality is during the next few decades there will be some hard decisions to make. Losing our urupa will have a huge impact on our hapu, mentally and emotionally, he says. Imagine the stress and strain knowing you are burying your whanau and there is no guarantee that within the next decade their burial site wont be swamped by the sea. Higgins loves Moeraki. Hes lived there his whole life, and wants to be buried here near his tipuna. I also understand my last resting place could very well be swamped by the ocean within the next decade if the sea levels continue to rise. When discussing how climate change impacts mental health and wellbeing, much of the focus thus far has been on eco-anxiety . Its that overwhelming feeling of dread and anxiety created by a crisis of existential proportions. A recent Covering Climate Now newsletter to international media reporting on the crisis starts: If youre not scared by climate change, youre not paying attention. In December, the Lancet Planetary Health reported that a survey of 10,000 people aged 16 to 25, from 10 countries, found 75 per cent think the future is frightening. For the first time, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) report released in February labelled its health chapter, health and wellbeing. For years, the focus has been on medical and public health any discussion of mental health had measured poor outcomes like hospital admissions or suicide. Now the report delves into how broader wellbeing is impacted, and what can be done to support good mental health. As New Zealand and its neighbours increasingly experience the more overt impacts of climate change, the variety and severity of mental health impacts will vary. Western Australians living in the wheat belt are feeling this acutely. The rain is falling in the sea and the soil is blowing away. There have been heart-rending accounts of what that means for communities. People feel responsible for their livestock perishing; for their lost livelihoods. Then there are questions around climate equity, and just transition away from industries that contribute to climate change. New Zealand may not have experienced the wildfires and drought on the same scale just yet, but recent floods in the south and on the East Coast , and fires in the north , remind Kiwis we will not be spared. To exacerbate issues, those living in rural areas, who rely on the land and the climate, often have poorer access to mental health services. In recognition, insurance companies are including mental health benefits in their rural policies , and the Ministry for Primary Industries has set up a fund to support existing mental health services focussed on rural communities The idea that aspects of climate change can adversely impact mental health is not new. But when it comes to understanding the complexity of why and how those effects are felt, we are just starting to scratch the surface. Situations that force people from their homes, or significant cultural areas, are more likely to create a sense of loss lost connection to place, lost connection to ancestors, lost connection to culture, and to someones ability to provide for their family and community. The emerging term solastalgia the distress produced by environmental change, which impacts a persons connection to their home environment goes a long way to starting more profound conversations about this aspect of wellbeing. And in exploring the idea of solastalgia, indigenous world views and vocabulary help bring a depth of perspective. Last July, during her address to the Otago Foreign Policy School, Te Runanga o Ngai Tahu Kaiwhakahaere chair Lisa Tumahai said Maori will be disproportionately impacted by climate change. But Tumahai, who is also the deputy chair of the Climate Change Commission , says with knowledge, and working to a multi-generational timeline, it is possible to mitigate the impacts. If we don't take the right climate action, I worry about my grandchildren. I do really worry about their future, and their environment, she says. Its up to the leadership of today to make the right bloody decision for our young people. When Ngai Tahu began work on its climate change strategy in 2015, the iwi commissioned Niwa to look at the projected changes in environment out to 2090. Thats how we think about timelines, she says. Its about planning for their grandchildrens grandchildren. With time and knowledge, communities have the ability to make collaborative decisions on how to adapt; they can keep cultural connections, and any migration will come about through informed decisions, not through force. The conversations and decisions will be hard, but Tumahai says her people are adaptive and resilient its not the first time theyve had to move. The Pacific is often seen as the poster child for climate change; the canary in the coal mine. But the world doesnt often hear Pacific voices, says University of Auckland co-head of Te Wananga o Waipapa Dr Jemaima Tiatia-Seath. Traditionally, we have heard that outsider view. But have we really delved into the lived experiences of Pacific people living, breathing, and trying to maintain livelihoods? Tiatia-Seath is leading groundbreaking research on how the mental health and wellbeing of Pacific people is impacted by climate change. The study also explores how New Zealand can ready its health system to support those needs, when people are inevitably forced to relocate. This is the first time a Pacific-led, predominantly Pacific team has obtained a local context on these issues. Pacific people have a deep connection to the land, the ocean, and the environment, which is seen as an ancestor by some, Tiatia-Seath says. For many, its also the umbilical cord. When youre having to move away from that, or physically disassociate yourself from the land youre born and bred on, there can be a sense of displacement, of loss. Like Maori, those forced to leave their communities, ancestors gravesites, nations, or culture will face stress and anxiety that comes with moving to a new environment, Tiatia-Seath says. How can we be more prepared for the influx of people who are having to move their homeland and establish a new life, due to climate change? How can we care better for their wellbeing, and what kind of distinct issues should we be addressing? Tiatia-Seath believes communities hold the solutions, but they often dont hold the power or the wealth needed to take action. Tiatia-Seath - who also sat on the panel of the Governments Mental Health and Addictions Inquiry, and is now a member of the Mental Health and Wellbeing Commission - says its promising to see Pacific people featuring as a priority population in the national mental health strategy. Now, if climate change can be considered alongside mental health, that would be a gamechanger. University of Auckland public health doctor and IPCC author Alistair Woodward says the sense of dread and negative mental health outcomes are understandable when dealing with something that is operating on a big scale, which seems irreversible, and that threatens to cross significant thresholds. Were dealing with a planet, which is not the one we knew, and we dont know how its going to turn out. If thats whats on your mind every day, how do you commit to a positive future? One that involves education, one that involves going out and getting a job, one that involves community networks? If people dont feel a sense of attachment to the future of their communities and their countries, then they tend to get sucked into destructive and dark corners. But that doesnt mean there isnt hope. The Covering Climate Now newsletter the one that basically said anyone not living under a rock should be scared also went to pains to point out the importance of talking about solutions. Fear alone, unleavened by the knowledge that this crisis can be fixed, is bad both for people and the planet, it says. Fear can easily spiral human beings into anxiety and despair, which paralyses them from the civic and political engagement urgently needed to defuse the crisis. Woodward agrees, and like others, he reckons the solutions are already out there The job is to make hope practical, rather than despair convincing, he says. Of course, it starts with trying to restrict global warming and mitigate the effects of climate change. And while there is still a long way to go, New Zealand has some core frameworks in place to allow it to get on and do the work, Woodwards says. When it comes to addressing poor mental health and wellbeing, there is no need to reinvent the wheel. Urban development and city planning needs to emphasise connections to nature , to clean water, and to community, because the natural environment is so intrinsically linked to wellbeing. Woodward also advocates for policies that strengthen the connection between an effective healthcare system and climate change adaptation. And close partnerships with indigenous people are essential when thinking through solutions. Everybody feels a connection to where they are from, and a sense of dislocation when that is taken, he says. But indigenous cultures are more explicit in communicating these concepts. The concept of kaitiakitanga means people have a responsibility to the environment; they are defined by the quality of that place. Its an understanding that our wellbeing is synonymous with the wellbeing of our environment. 1737, Need to talk? Free call or text 1737 any time for support from a trained counsellor Lifeline 0800 543 354 or (09) 5222 999 within Auckland Youthline 0800 376 633, free text 234 or email talk@youthline.co.nz or online chat Samaritans 0800 726 666 Suicide Crisis Helpline 0508 828 865 (0508 TAUTOKO) What's Up 0800 942 8787 (for 518 year olds). Phone counselling is available Monday to Friday, midday11pm and weekends, 3pm11pm. Online chat is available 7pm10pm daily. Kidsline 0800 54 37 54 (0800 kidsline) for young people up to 18 years of age. Open 24/7. thelowdown.co.nz or email team@thelowdown.co.nz or free text 5626 Anxiety New Zealand 0800 ANXIETY (0800 269 4389) Rural Support Trust 0800 787 254 (0800 RURAL HELP) Supporting Families in Mental Illness 0800 732 825