Former Minister of Home Affairs connects climate action to economic opportunity.
For centuries, human societies have developed and perfected extraction-based practices, building economies that thrive on mining, drilling, deforestation and industrial manufacturing. While these activities have driven technological advancement and improved the quality of life for billions, they have also led to a widespread loss of biodiversity and the pollution of our land, ocean and air. Economic disparities — and inequities in education, healthcare and access to resources — have deepened this technological divide. The result is a global legacy of climate injustice and disproportionate climate obligations that demands to be addressed.
Now is that time. We must move towards models that prioritise the restoration, preservation and sustainable use of natural resources. This requires collective and deliberate action to confront the most urgent climate challenges and to halt the ongoing degradation of our planet — a crisis that is already costing the global economy an estimated $16 million per hour. This expense is only expected to rise, with the World Economic Forum predicting that damage resulting from climate change will cost the global economy $1.7 to $3.1 trillion each year by 2050. These global figures can feel distant and hard to relate to on a community or household level. But Bermuda has been experiencing the increasing impacts of climate change for years, not just in ways we have come to expect, but in quieter, less visible ways as well.
The island sustained an estimated total loss, adjusted for today’s higher prices and increased property exposure, of between $865 million and $1.07 billion from Hurricanes Fabian, Gonzalo and Nicole — and these figures account primarily for insured losses. While Bermuda weathers hurricanes of increasing frequency and intensity, the US East Coast is experiencing more severe winter storms, including nor’easters, polar vortexes and supercharged snow storms — many of which have created delays in regular shipments of merchant goods, refrigerated food products and fresh produce. The laws of supply and demand drive up costs at the checkout line when supplies are low but, in the long term, this tenuous situation makes clear the true cost of relying on imported food in a changing climate.
Local food production is being impacted by climate change as well. As winters grow shorter and summers grow longer, the growing seasons shift. Where there was once a regular, yet delicate dance between growing, harvesting and rainfall, farmers must now make calculated decisions about which crops to plant based on longer-term meteorological predictions, whether they can afford to buy water in the event of a shortage, or what tradeoffs can be made if out-of-the-ordinary weather conditions cause extensive crop loss. We must carefully weigh our investments and possible solutions, as well as how their implementation will help ensure a future of equity, prosperity and climate justice — particularly for those who often do not have a seat at the table or a voice at high-level climate negotiations.
What does this mean?
Carbon capture technology costs billions to develop and maintain, yet nature-based solutions such as restoring coastal ecosystems or improving land management practices both receive less attention and funding. It is estimated that investing in nature-based solutions can reduce carbon emissions by 30 percent and save developing countries $393 billion by 2050. These savings aren’t limited to developing countries. In the US alone, mangrove ecosystems provide an estimated $65 billion in flood protection every year to coastal communities. As governments around the world spend billions rebuilding infrastructure after hurricanes and typhoons, why are natural defenses that are cheaper, more effective, and have co-benefits — such as carbon capture — overlooked and undervalued? As a result of industrial activities that span sectors across the globe, we spend vast amounts of time and money removing plastic waste from our marine environment, even as we continue to manufacture and discard single-use plastics made for everything from food packaging to synthetic textiles to cigarette filters. Why not invest more aggressively in biodegradable alternatives? Or, since 70 percent to 80 percent of plastics in the ocean come from land-based sources, why not support proper disposal of plastic waste where it originates?
Many of these industrial activities discharge billions of gallons of toxic waste into the soil and ocean. This waste contaminates precious groundwater, contributes to preventable human health issues, and creates a growing number of dead zones in coastal waters that suffocate marine life. The expenses required for waste cleanup and remediation, as well the healthcare costs for long-term issues such as cancer and lung damage, far exceed what would be required to reduce or eliminate the toxic waste in the first place.
Moving Ahead with a New Model
The extractive model of human existence is not only destroying the natural world — it is actively putting the future of humanity at risk. We must reimagine this model. We now know how to generate energy without fossil fuels. We know that nature-based solutions — such as reforestation, wetland restoration and regenerative agriculture practices — can mitigate and, when given time, even reverse environmental damage. These solutions support the natural processes of restoration and resilience. Instead of fighting against nature in pursuit of what we can extract from it, we need to be working with nature in pursuit of what we can learn from it.
The conservation and protection of natural resources must be given equal consideration and importance as economic development. And there needs to be knowledge transfer in boardrooms, on trading floors and within the highest levels of government, emphasising that conserving and protecting natural resources does not preclude economic growth. We all understand the concept of financial capital: invest funds to produce return and financial growth. Most of this investment today still favours extractive industries — mining, manufacturing, fuel production — all of which are traditionally more valued than nature itself. However, it is time to recognise and promote the role of natural capital — environmental assets, such as the ocean, forests and air, that provide ecosystem services to people and communities. These resources are active contributors to planetary health, climate resilience and human survival, particularly in regions most vulnerable to climate impacts.
Consider the growth of a tree. A single seed, of negligible economic value, when nurtured with water, nutrients and care, becomes a sapling and then a full-grown tree. Its value multiplies — not just in beauty or in the fruit it bears, but in its ability to absorb carbon, produce oxygen, provide habitat and propagate future generations of trees. This is the essence of natural capital: sustained investment in nature yields exponentially greater returns — for people and the planet. Bermuda, as with every country, has its own natural capital — both living and nonliving. Our tourism industry depends, in large part, upon the continued health of the island’s coral reefs and the many fishes and invertebrates that live upon them. The humpback whales that pass by Bermuda on their annual migration are most certainly shared natural capital, but their health and well-being depend upon the waters surrounding the island: how clean and safe the water is, whether the animals are being protected from harmful industrial activities or aggressive tourism. Bermuda’s freshwater lens, sitting atop sand and limestone aquifers, is perhaps one of the island’s most precious examples of natural capital. Beyond the physical examples of Bermuda’s natural capital are the many — often invisible — ecosystem services they provide. Bermuda’s beaches and parks offer places of solitude and recreation for many — these are cultural services. The island’s agricultural lands and coastal waters are sources of fresh fruit, vegetables and fish — these are provisioning services. Bermuda’s aquifer, the birds and insects that pollinate native plants, and trees that produce oxygen are all regulating services; and the island’s terrestrial and marine habitats, plant and animal biodiversity, soil and water are all supporting services. We may not know them by these names, but these ecosystem services are what provide for the wellbeing and quality of life for every person that lives here.
While natural capital offers some of the most promising forms of investing in our planetary health and addressing climate change issues, it is also some of the most undervalued forms of capital. This means that — in general — negative impacts to natural capital incur no cost and the communities most affected are unable to claim any form of compensation. In terms of investing in or insuring natural capital, how do we place a value on these critical resources and the ecosystem services they provide? How do we account for the depreciation in the value of the tree as it is exposed to polluted air or water? These are no longer theoretical questions for the classroom: they are real-world questions, requiring answers, as they have real-world consequences. Nature is our greatest provider. If we nurture it, conserve it and protect its ability to sustain itself, we will all profit — not just in economic terms, but in terms of our survival, health and well-being.
