The language of climate change: Can global terms capture local realities?

In Bangladesh, the effects of climate change are undeniable, yet the terms imposed by global frameworks often fail to capture the essence of local struggles and experiences. Photo: TBS

Imagine this: A small-scale fisherman in the Sundarbans pushes his boat into the rising tide. His lifelong experiences warn him that the weather will not be in his favour, yet he goes out into the sea, embracing the uncertain waters because he has a family to feed. He must also compete for his catch against contemporary sea monsters—the giant mechanised boats—with nothing but his modest wooden vessel, as it is his only option.

More often than not, he returns home defeated, his catch insufficient to sustain his livelihood or pay back the debt that he took from the Mahajan. Forced by circumstances, he turns to daily wage labour or migrates to places with better opportunities, leaving behind his identity as a fisherman and the life that he has always known. 

Yet, in global climate policy documents, his struggles are reduced to terms such as 'adaptation,' 'migration,' 'resilience,' and 'mitigation,' as though these words alone could address the challenges faced by communities in the Global South, particularly in South Asia. 

These narratives are often constructed by individuals far removed from the realities of monsoons or the devastation of swollen rivers, resulting in solutions that fail to resonate with or adequately address the lived experiences of people like him. 

The language used—technical, detached, and foreign—defines climate change, its risk to vulnerable communities, and how it should be addressed. But does it reflect the reality of Bangladesh, a country on the frontline of the climate crisis? 

In Bangladesh, the effects of climate change are undeniable, yet the terms imposed by global frameworks often fail to capture the essence of local struggles and experiences. Words like 'vulnerability,' 'adaptation,' 'displacement,' and 'dispossession' dominate the discourse. These terms, viewed from a Global North perspective, are disconnected from the lived experiences and realities of communities that have adapted to nature's unpredictability for generations. 

More often than not, it is those in positions of power who construct knowledge. Michel Foucault's concept of knowledge/power in discourse analysis can be used to explain this dynamic. Foucault argued that power and knowledge are inextricably linked and mutually reinforcing.

While global reports may hail 'alternative livelihood' or 'community empowerment' as solutions, the Sundarbans' honey collectors or Shyanmagar's farmers may see these as distant concepts that neither acknowledge nor address their immediate struggles. 

This mismatch between global definitions and local knowledge isn't just a matter of semantics; it shapes policies, funding priorities, and , ultimately, who gets to decide the future of countries like Bangladesh.

More often than not, it is those in positions of power who construct knowledge. Michel Foucault's concept of knowledge/power in discourse analysis can be used to explain this dynamic. Foucault argued that power and knowledge are inextricably linked and mutually reinforcing. 

Those with power not only influence how knowledge is created but also use it to legitimise and maintain their authority. In the context of climate change, this means that funders, global institutions, and powerful actors are the ones who construct the knowledge. However, these dominant narratives are often disconnected from the lived realities of vulnerable communities. 

We often think of power as something exercised through individuals in higher positions of authority—politicians, CEOs, or international leaders. 

But power operates in more subtle ways, particularly through language, institutions, and practices. Power operates when definitions are established when certain terms, words, and phrases are in place to define a certain situation and lived experiences. 

For example, when we define 'adaptation' as a process of changing to suit different conditions or incorporating different types of adaptation, we consciously or subconsciously eliminate any alternative definitions or explanations that might exist outside of the framework. 

It overlooks the diverse and rich forms of adaptation practices by local communities, such as those in Bangladesh, where adaptation is not merely a technical or planned process but a dynamic, community-driven process of resilience that draws from local ecological knowledge, social interactions and networks, lived experiences, and cultural traditions. 

In this context, adaptation is not just about 'adjusting' to extreme weather or 'changing/building' infrastructures such as embankments and cyclone shelters but also about the changing dynamic in the community ties. It could be about the intangible, unseeable emotions and feelings that these communities endure and carry with them as they move forward. 

It could be about the fishing and farming practices they have been preserving for generations, practices that reflect a deep connection to their environment. 

These people have faced and have been facing uncertainties collectively, relying on their shared knowledge and mutual trust rather than external frameworks. Did they ever need these Western definitions of adaptation and resilience to guide their lives? Or were these imposed terms and definitions used as a colonial discourse to simplify and reduce the complexities of their realities? 

Sanzida Alam Lisa is a research assistant at the Center for Sustainable Development (CSD) and an Early Career Researcher at V2V Global Partnership. She is currently pursuing her MA in Applied Linguistics and TESOL at ULAB. 

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.