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J. Atkinson-Nolte et al.
Our surveys suggest the most widespread response to climate change among
the people of Ono was a spiritual one, but we are aware this might be a default
judgement; it is simpler and cheaper to pray than just about anything else. In its
simplest form, most Ono residents explain climate change as a consequence of an
insufficiency of piety and—more pragmatically—tithing. This situation angers God
but can be reversed by ‘praying more and paying more’ in the muttered words of one
commentator on Ono. The role of religious leaders in developing and promulgating
this view often appears quite substantial. Research indicates that environmental ills
may be capitalized on by such people to boost church coffers and to ensure that
churches recover quickly in the aftermath of disaster (Gard and Veitayaki 2017; Cox
et al. 2018).
In contrast (but not alternatively), we found that many Ono residents, typically
younger males, were driving or contemplating much more pragmatic solutions
to climate-change impacts, such as (enhanced) seawall construction, tree/creeper
planting along the backs of eroding shorelines, mangrove replanting offshore, and
even the incremental relocation of settlements inland and upslope. The people who
expressed such views most volubly were tolerant of others who favoured spiritual
responses but appeared unconvinced of their efficacy.
A third element has entered the mix of climate-change responses on Ono Island,
which was one reason it was selected as a site for this study in the first place. This
element involves the imposition of externally-designed and externally-funded adaptation solutions, typically by agencies with secular agendas and often little understanding why local residents might privilege spiritual ones. On Ono, there are two
main interventions.
The first is the relocation of low-lying Narikoso Village (110 residents), something
first planned in 2011 but which, following years of inaction and the downscaling of
promises by aid donors, was only starting to happen at the times of our visits in 2019
(Bertana 2020; McMichael and Katonivualiku 2020). In January 2019, we were
shown raw materials for two new houses (to be constructed at the new uphill village
site) that had been dumped on the beach adjoining the village, none of its residents
sure what they should do with them. In June–July 2019, two government workers
were assembling these two new houses; more than 20 had been promised by the aid
donor in 2016–2017. Narikoso residents were unsure whether more houses would
ever be built at the new site which was showing signs of degradation resulting from
clearance of the forest and the associated exposure of the regolith/soil to sometimes
heavy rain.
The second was the Government-built river-bank wall, started and completed
in mid-2019, in Vabea Village (see Fig. 13.2c). In 2016–2017, the river that runs
through Vabea broke its banks and flooded adjacent houses for several days. The
issue was reported upwards through the local subnational decision-making hierarchy
and the Government, we were told, unilaterally and without consulting the Vabea
community, decided to construct a solid river-bank wall along the southern bank of
the lower (tidal) part of the river. When we were on Ono in June–July 2019, fifteen
Government workers were billeted in Vabea and, using imported rocks, bulldozers
and mechanical diggers, were in the final stages of completing the river-bank wall.
J. Atkinson-Nolte et al.
Our surveys suggest the most widespread response to climate change among
the people of Ono was a spiritual one, but we are aware this might be a default
judgement; it is simpler and cheaper to pray than just about anything else. In its
simplest form, most Ono residents explain climate change as a consequence of an
insufficiency of piety and—more pragmatically—tithing. This situation angers God
but can be reversed by ‘praying more and paying more’ in the muttered words of one
commentator on Ono. The role of religious leaders in developing and promulgating
this view often appears quite substantial. Research indicates that environmental ills
may be capitalized on by such people to boost church coffers and to ensure that
churches recover quickly in the aftermath of disaster (Gard and Veitayaki 2017; Cox
et al. 2018).
In contrast (but not alternatively), we found that many Ono residents, typically
younger males, were driving or contemplating much more pragmatic solutions
to climate-change impacts, such as (enhanced) seawall construction, tree/creeper
planting along the backs of eroding shorelines, mangrove replanting offshore, and
even the incremental relocation of settlements inland and upslope. The people who
expressed such views most volubly were tolerant of others who favoured spiritual
responses but appeared unconvinced of their efficacy.
A third element has entered the mix of climate-change responses on Ono Island,
which was one reason it was selected as a site for this study in the first place. This
element involves the imposition of externally-designed and externally-funded adaptation solutions, typically by agencies with secular agendas and often little understanding why local residents might privilege spiritual ones. On Ono, there are two
main interventions.
The first is the relocation of low-lying Narikoso Village (110 residents), something
first planned in 2011 but which, following years of inaction and the downscaling of
promises by aid donors, was only starting to happen at the times of our visits in 2019
(Bertana 2020; McMichael and Katonivualiku 2020). In January 2019, we were
shown raw materials for two new houses (to be constructed at the new uphill village
site) that had been dumped on the beach adjoining the village, none of its residents
sure what they should do with them. In June–July 2019, two government workers
were assembling these two new houses; more than 20 had been promised by the aid
donor in 2016–2017. Narikoso residents were unsure whether more houses would
ever be built at the new site which was showing signs of degradation resulting from
clearance of the forest and the associated exposure of the regolith/soil to sometimes
heavy rain.
The second was the Government-built river-bank wall, started and completed
in mid-2019, in Vabea Village (see Fig. 13.2c). In 2016–2017, the river that runs
through Vabea broke its banks and flooded adjacent houses for several days. The
issue was reported upwards through the local subnational decision-making hierarchy
and the Government, we were told, unilaterally and without consulting the Vabea
community, decided to construct a solid river-bank wall along the southern bank of
the lower (tidal) part of the river. When we were on Ono in June–July 2019, fifteen
Government workers were billeted in Vabea and, using imported rocks, bulldozers
and mechanical diggers, were in the final stages of completing the river-bank wall.