Many places are becoming increasingly unlivable. And around a quarter of humanity is already facing drought and associated food insecurity. By 2070, a fifth of the planet could become too hot for normal human life, displacing up to 3.5 billion people. Sea level rise alone could displace 410 million people globally by 2100.
We are poised to see the largest and fastest movement of people in human history. New policy frameworks will be needed. In 2025, we will begin to move from reactive to proactive and embrace the imperative of climate-driven relocation.
Not surprisingly, climate-driven relocations will hit poor communities and communities of color hardest. Those with fewer resources to adapt, those who have done the least to cause the climate crisis, will bear the brunt. Consider the 33 million people displaced by floods in Pakistan in 2022, with 9.4 million acres of farmland damaged or destroyed. Think about how America’s history of racism increases climate risks: Previously devastated neighborhoods have 25% more homes at high risk of flooding. But no person, no place is immune: think of the heat waves that hit Europe in 2022, killing more than 61,000 people, and where few people have air conditioning because it has never been needed. At the rate humanity continues to emit greenhouse gases, this may just be a dress rehearsal.
To date, most climate migration has occurred within nations, but as regions affected by extreme weather expand, this will need to change. We will need to be vigilant in keeping xenophobia at bay, recognizing the cruel injustice at play as nations with the lowest greenhouse gas emissions, such as the Pacific Islands, are the first to be inundated.
Where will people go? How will all this be handled? One thing is certain: ignoring the problem will not make it disappear; on the contrary, it will result in chaos. At the international, national and local levels, we will begin to develop policies to fill the current legislative and regulatory gap, such as limiting housing construction in high-risk areas. One example is the State of New Jersey’s takeover of approximately 200 property owners in Woodbridge Township, one of the areas hardest hit by flooding caused by Hurricane Irene in 2011 and Hurricane Sandy in 2012, to prohibit new development and return the land to nature.
Other initiatives and policies will involve preparing low-risk areas to become host communities for those who need to relocate. In the Pacific, one of the regions with the lowest greenhouse gas emissions in the world, entire nations risk being flooded. The nation of Kiribati has already purchased land in Fiji as part of its plan to relocate people as needed due to rising sea levels. In 2023, 18 Pacific island nations agreed to the Pacific Regional Framework on Climate Mobility, which outlines several priorities such as regional collaboration on cross-border relocation to ensure respect for human rights, development of guidelines in consultation with relocation communities and coordinating support between countries for cross-border migrants.
In 2025, at the individual and family level, we will see those with the means begin to proactively relocate. Already, 11% of Americans have considered moving to avoid the impacts of global warming, and about 75% are hesitant to purchase homes in areas of high climate risk such as wildfires (more than 30 million homes in the 48 US states are at risk of fire). affected by fires).
We will also continue to see the insurance market play a significant role in these changes, as more and more high-risk locations become uninsurable. For example, in 2023, the National Flood Insurance Program changed its rate structure for the first time since it was established in 1968. As a result, the average cost of flood insurance has increased in many places: In the parish of Plaquemines, Louisiana, soared. by more than 1,000 percent.
In 2025, continued rebuilding in the same places after extreme weather events, which until now is standard practice, will become widely considered absurd. It’s not that people want to move, leave the communities and ecosystems they love and call home; that’s what they have to do. Cultures and diasporas will begin to shift to embrace this new reality. Many of them will face a difficult question: What does home really mean in the age of climate collapse?