Rising Seas, Shifting Borders: How Climate Change Pressures Migration Policies

Cyclone Mocha struck Myanmar in May 2023, displacing 1.2 million people, according to the International Organization for Migration. Events like this, along with desertification in the Sahel and rising sea levels in the Pacific, are reshaping human mobility. Policymakers must address a pressing question: who is responsible for those forced to leave due to climate change?

The 2021 World Bank Groundswell report projected that 216 million people could become internal climate migrants by 2050 under a high-emissions scenario. However, these estimates overlook cross-border migration, causing friction in global policy frameworks. The European Union has struggled to classify and respond to climate-displaced individuals within its existing asylum and migration systems, which were not designed for environmental pressures.

“International law does not yet recognise climate migrants as refugees,” said Dr. Caroline Zickgraf, Deputy Director of the Hugo Observatory on Environment, Migration and Politics at the University of Liège. “That creates a protection gap, and countries are now improvising solutions within legal frameworks that are, frankly, outdated.”

In October 2023, a Moldovan summit on migration led the UK and several European states to issue a declaration urging the European Court of Human Rights to grant member states more autonomy over migration cases. UK Foreign Secretary Yvette Cooper called the approach “common sense,” aimed at countering illegal migration and human trafficking. Yet, the declaration notably omitted climate-induced displacement, despite evidence that environmental disasters are accelerating migration across Europe and beyond. Reuters reported.

Pacific island nations illustrate a different approach. Facing existential threats from rising sea levels, countries like Tuvalu and Kiribati have sought bilateral agreements to secure dignified migration pathways for their citizens. Tuvalu signed a 2022 deal with New Zealand allowing 3,000 Tuvaluans to relocate over 25 years. While limited, such agreements demonstrate potential climate-responsive policy, though they remain exceptions.

“Traditional migration systems are reactive, not preventive,” said Professor Saleemul Huq, Director of the International Centre for Climate Change and Development in Dhaka. “We need forward-thinking policies that address the root causes of displacement, not just its symptoms.”

The gaps in current systems are stark when viewed through the lens of human rights. In 2020, the United Nations Human Rights Committee ruled that countries cannot deport individuals to places where climate change poses an immediate risk to their life, rooted in the case of Ioane Teitiota, a Kiribati national who sought asylum in New Zealand. While this ruling was a breakthrough, it left many questions unanswered about the severity of risks required for protection.

Africa adds another layer of complexity. The African Union has been proactive, integrating climate change into its migration policy frameworks. The 2018 Kampala Convention explicitly recognised climate change as a driver of internal displacement. However, implementation remains uneven, hindered by financial and political constraints. The Sahel region, facing some of the highest rates of climate displacement, remains a testing ground for regional collaboration.

In practice, the international response to climate migration often reflects geopolitical interests rather than humanitarian needs. Wealthy nations, including the United States and several EU countries, have faced criticism for prioritising border securitisation over addressing root causes. A 2023 report by the Transnational Institute revealed that European states spent €21.3 billion ($22.6 billion) on border control technologies from 2015 to 2022, overshadowing investments in climate adaptation. Transnational Institute.

The intersection of climate policy and migration is reshaping domestic politics. In the UK, new migration agreements are part of broader sovereignty debates, as calls grow for the ECHR to reduce its influence on domestic migration decisions. Similarly, in the United States, climate-related migration has become a key issue in immigration reform discussions, particularly regarding asylum and temporary protected status.

As national governments grapple with these challenges, subnational actors and civil society are stepping in. Cities like Auckland, Rotterdam, and Dhaka are testing urban planning models that incorporate climate migrants, while NGOs like Refugees International advocate for a global compact on climate mobility. Refugees International.

Despite these efforts, progress remains fragmented. Binding international agreements are elusive, and there is no consensus on whether to amend the 1951 Refugee Convention to include climate migrants or create a new protocol. The climate crisis accelerates, with each year adding to the number of displaced individuals.

Dr. Zickgraf emphasised, “We’re at a crossroads. Either we recognise climate displacement for what it is—a structural challenge requiring systemic solutions—or we risk normalising the suffering of millions.”

Governments face a critical decision point. Without international coordination, the burden of climate displacement will continue to fall unevenly, exacerbating inequalities both within and between countries. As rising seas redraw maps, migration policies must evolve to avoid collapse under their own inadequacies.