Abstract
This study examined the social and psychological factors underlying the decisions of coastal residents in Hawaiʻi to consider migration in response to increasing climate-related threats. Fifteen adults across six islands were individually interviewed regarding their attachment to their community, perception of climate-related risks, and their perceived likelihood of relocation. Thematic analysis of the data identified seven main themes present across the majority of the interviews: rootedness, safety and security, uncertainty and fear, firsthand observation of changes, solastalgia, distrust and resentment, and legacy. These findings suggest that participants were deeply connected to their local communities and were very attuned to changes in their surroundings. Interviewees were motivated to implement adaptive measures to protect against climate change, yet they were not actively considering or planning to relocate to a different region. Although participants understood and accepted the long-term, global implications of a warming planet, interviewees felt as though they had the competency and resources needed to continue to survive in their communities within the archipelago. Interviewees related a deeply felt responsibility to steward their surrounding environment rather than moving away from their home communities. Since interviewees were not motivated to migrate, policymakers may aim at focusing future policy interventions on increasing funding and support for local adaptive measures and community solutions that can prolong island habitability.
Introduction
For all of recorded human history, people have moved in response to changing environmental conditions. Climate change, arguably the most pressing geopolitical issue of the 21st century, will exacerbate migration trends and create entirely new drivers of movement. Pacific Island Countries and Territories (PICTs), which includes the Hawaiian Islands, are considered some of the most vulnerable regions to climate change and, therefore, are one of the first regions experiencing large numbers of climate migrants (Campbell, 2014).
The impacts of rising seas will be felt in many ways, ranging from saltwater intrusion, to increased erosion, to changing fish migratory patterns, and to damaged reef ecosystems. Other threats such as wildfires, extreme heat, and drought are also very real for inhabitants of the Hawaiian Islands. These challenges will be compounded by the islands' remoteness, narrow economic bases (e.g., fisheries, tourism), low incomes, and high dependence of foreign aid (in the Pacific region, aid amounts to 7% of the region's GDP) (Lowy Institute, 2020).
At the same time, islands are poised as models for other regions worldwide—they are low emitters of greenhouse gas emissions, have set ambitious climate targets, and have demonstrated outsized political influence in the global climate agenda. Even though Hawaiʻi and other PICTs are unfairly burdened, the inhabitants of PICTs are known for their resilience and mobility—two characteristics that will serve them well in the face of climate-induced migration. At the same time, these communities have cultural traditions, laws, and environmental conditions that may make relocation particularly challenging (Campbell, 2014).
This research explored the psychological aspects of relocation considerations for Hawai‘i's residents. Although significant research has focused on the economic and technical feasibility of migration (Quinn, Bousquet, Guerbois, Sougrati, & Tabutaud, 2018), less research has considered the emotional, psychological, and other “subjective” components of migration (Agyeman, Devine-Wright, & Prange, 2009), especially in PICTs. What we do know is that the psychological impact of migration is rooted in the emotional connections that individuals form with their neighborhoods and homes.
Places serve multiple functions that can be understood through conceptualizing place as a location, locale, or through the concept of sense of place (Amundsen, 2015). Place as a location straightforwardly refers to the physical and spatial dimensions of a particular environment (Amundsen, 2015). This relates to the geography, geology, and climate of a specific location. In contrast, place as a locale not only represents the physical/spatial dimensions of an environment but also encompasses the activities that take place there.
Considering the value of a coastal region for its access to water-related activities is an example of place as a locale. Lastly, sense of place is a broad concept that refers to the attitudes and meanings held by individuals in relation to a specific place (Chamlee-Wright & Storr, 2009). This is a product of the former two understandings of place combined with the history, culture, community, traditions, and other defining characteristics of a particular location (Amundsen, 2015).
Within this umbrella understanding of the term sense of place, three narrower concepts exist: place attachment, place identity, and place dependence (Chamlee-Wright & Storr, 2009). Place attachment is defined as the “positive cognitive and affective bond that develops between individuals and their environment” (Chamlee-Wright & Storr, 2009). The concept of place attachment was born out of Bowlby's 1988 attachment theory and his study of parent-child bonds (De Dominicis, Fornara, Ganucci Cancellieri, Twigger-Ross, & Bonaiuto, 2015).
The core components of Bowlby's attachment theory—proximity, safe haven, secure base, and separation distress—can be extended to physical space through place attachment (Bonaiuto, Alves, De Dominicis, & Petruccelli, 2016). Place identity, in comparison, describes the dimension of one's self-identity that relates to their physical environment (Chamlee-Wright & Storr, 2009). Place identity is established via formation of beliefs, behaviors, feelings, values, and skills that an individual develops in relation to their environment (Chamlee-Wright & Storr, 2009).
For example, one may develop place identity as a function of involvement with local politics. Lastly, place dependence describes the ability of a particular location to satisfy an individual's needs and hopes (Chamlee-Wright & Storr, 2009). If a particular environment is well suited to the activities of an individual, they are considered to have high place dependence (e.g., surfers living by the ocean). On the other hand, if a place does not meet an individual's needs, place dependence is considered to be low (e.g., mountain climbers living in a city without mountains or trails).
Quinn et al. (2018) found that given the large variation among individuals' place attachments, it was necessary to consider this construct as being composed of five specific subtypes of place attachment: inherited, active, place alienation, relativity, and placelessness. The inherited attachment style is defined by long-standing connections to a particular place, often resulting from familial and cultural ties. Indigenous place-based attachments often fit within this category, since the connection is rooted in an enduring identification with a place as part of one's identity.
Active attachment, on the other hand, is created when an individual intentionally seeks out a particular location to live. Place alienation is defined by an individual's strong dislike for a particular location. Individuals who identify as place relative hold an equivocal relationship to place. Lastly, the placelessness style of attachment refers to individuals who do not identify closely with their environment (Quinn et al., 2018). Indigenous communities that were forcefully uprooted from the site of their inherited place attachment now find themselves experiencing placelessness as a form of cultural loss. This loss may be exacerbated by forced climate migration.
Place attachment is a particularly salient feature of Indigenous Hawaiian identity (Kana‘iaupuni & Malone, 2006). The location of the Hawaiian Islands contributes to the strong connection to place: The isolation of the islands demands self-reliance, which has given rise to intricate and involved knowledge systems of the islands and their physical landscape (McMillen et al., 2014). Native Hawaiian place attachment is established and manifests itself across three main domains: (1) physical and spiritual, (2) genealogical, and (3) socio-political and historical (Kana‘iaupuni & Malone, 2006).
Although Native Hawaiian traditional ecological knowledge (TEK), undoubtedly, pertains most directly to the Indigenous population in Hawaiʻi, the practices, traditions, and values associated with TEK infuse the institutions and general way of life on the Islands (Vitousek & Beamer, 2013). A backdrop of Native Hawaiian TEK is necessary to conceptualize place attachment broadly in Hawaiʻi. Native Hawaiian TEK is deeply rooted in physical and spiritual ties to the natural environment. Hawaiian TEK is centered on the understanding that people and the environment are interconnected and are enmeshed within reciprocal relationships (McMillen et al., 2014).
A framework of kinship is used to illustrate the inseparability between humans and the natural world. TEK is dynamic—it is passed down through generations and evolves as places and people change (Spencer, Fentress, Touch, & Hernandez, 2020). Motifs of kinship that are central to Hawaiian TEK are displayed in Hawaiian birth and death rituals. The umbilical cord is planted into the ground upon the birth of a newborn, and the body of a deceased person is also buried into the ground upon their death. This full circle symbolizes the inseparability of humans and the Earth. Extensive place naming practices are another key component of Hawaiian TEK that further illustrate the spiritual connection between Hawaiians and the natural world.
All places associated with the land, sea, and heavens are given a name that spans across time and generations. Lastly, rights to land and sea access are not determined by land tenure systems, but rather, these ties are part of a collective ownership system that is negotiated by familial lineage and based on need (Kana‘iaupuni & Malone, 2006).
Native Hawaiian connection to place is reinforced through genealogical ties. Humans and the Earth originated at the same time, according to the Indigenous Hawaiian creation story, affirming that genealogical ties strengthen one's relationship to place (Kana‘iaupuni & Malone, 2006). Place attachment for Native Hawaiians is also established via socio-political and historical ties. Hawaiians have suffered from centuries of environmental injustices, many of which are ongoing. Although injustices have endangered Hawaiian place identity, they have simultaneously served to bind Hawaiians together in their pursuit for self-determination (Kana‘iaupuni & Malone, 2006).
For individuals who have strong connections to place, loss of place can be destabilizing. Solastalgia, a word with increasing relevance today, is a neologism that refers to the feelings of distress or anxiety that emerge due to environmental change, particularly when the changes take place in a place that someone knows well (Albrecht, 2005). The term was coined in 2003 by philosopher Glenn Albrecht, who poignantly described this feeling as “a form of homesickness one gets when one is still at ‘home.’ ” Home does not just refer to your physical residence, but it also includes your community, surrounding environment, and any other places you are intimately connected to (Albrecht, 2005).
When people find themselves in risky situations or environments, the decisions they make to cope with risks are never entirely rational. Individuals rely on systematic biases and heuristics to make coping decisions—people tend to focus on the short term, are reluctant to take risks, and generally opt to maintain the status quo (Kunreuther et al., 2014). Sometimes, even decision makers and experts lack key information about risks, leading to imperfect decision making (Kunreuther et al., 2014).
The human tendency toward imperfect risk perception was demonstrated by Meyer, Baker, Broad, Czajkowski, and Orlove (2014) study with coastal residents in the storm paths of Hurricanes Isaac and Sandy in 2012 (Meyer et al., 2014). Using field surveys, Meyer et al. determined that all coastal residents recognized the threat posed by the respective hurricanes. Although residents all had high awareness of the threat, individuals displayed inaccurate perceptions of the intensity and duration of the storms (Meyer et al., 2014).
These flawed mental models can be attributed to personal biases (i.e., optimism bias) as well as to poor communication of risks by media sources and other outlets for information dissemination. Residents' inaccurate perceptions of the nature of hurricanes translated into a miscalibrated risk coping response. Many residents engaged in short-term protective responses to prepare for a short wind event, yet they did not enact longer-term protective actions (i.e., ownership of federal flood policies) to defend against a strong wind-and-water natural disaster (Meyer et al., 2014). Bukvic and Harrald's (2018) research within communities on the Mid-Atlantic seaboard reflected similar trends: Although residents recognized the problems associated with coastal flooding, there was great variation between participants in regards to the cause, intensity, and solution for the issue (Bukvic & Harrald, 2018).
An individual's perception of risk is also colored by their place attachment, although the connection between place attachment and risk perception is still ambiguous (Bonaiuto et al., 2016). Some researchers have conducted studies that demonstrate that place attachment and risk perception are positively correlated, whereas others have found the opposite result (Bonaiuto et al., 2016). Interviews, led by Burley, Jenkins, Laska, and Davis (2007), with coastal residents in Louisiana whose homes are threatened by sea level rise, revealed that participants with high levels of place attachment also had a heightened awareness of risks posed by impending natural disasters (Burley et al., 2007).
On the other hand, a study led by Donovan et al. (2012) on volcano risk in Indonesia revealed the opposite relationship: Attachment to the region was correlated with lower perception of the hazard risks [Donovan (2012) as cited in Bonaiuto et al. (2016)]. The negative correlation between place attachment and risk perception is less commonly cited in relevant literature, yet it is still present in a substantial number of studies (Bonaiuto et al., 2016).
When communities have high levels of trust, reciprocity, and solidarity, they are more likely to respond effectively to disasters. Aßheuer, Thiele-Eich, and Braun (2013) outlined the three components of social capital: networks, norms, and sanctions (Aßheuer et al., 2013). Networks refer to the bonds and support systems that connect a group. Norms are the group's shared values, attitudes, and beliefs. Solidarity and reciprocity are the social norms that are most salient in terms of social capital (Aßheuer et al., 2013). Finally, sanctions refer to the motivations that underlie an individual's decision to provide social support.
Petzold and Ratter's (2015) research on the resilience of small island communities revealed that although islands are particularly vulnerable to natural disasters, small island communities often possess vast local knowledge along with high levels of social capital. These two traits can be harnessed and used to increase a community's adaptive capacity and overall resilience (Petzold & Ratter, 2015).
The current study
The research question of this study was designed to respond to the unique vulnerability and opportunity for resilience of PICTs in response to increasing climate-driven threats. The social and psychological concepts discussed in the Introduction serve as a theoretical framework from which the research question can begin to be addressed. These theories also shaped the questions asked during the interviews.
The interview guide consisted of questions relating to four domains: (1) the participants' place attachment, (2) risk perception of climate-related disasters, (3) attitude toward migration, and (4) intention (or lack thereof) to migrate (Appendix A1). These domains were created to reflect the core social and psychological concepts associated with migration decisions: place attachment, coping decisions, risk perception, social identity theory, social vulnerability, and social capital. For instance, the questions “where do you get information on climate-related risks?” and “who communicates risk about your local community?” gauged whether communication of risks by media sources and other news outlets bears an impact on participants' risk perception and associated coping decisions.
As another example, the questions that related to the length of time that interviewees have spent in their community (“how did you end up there?,” “were you born there?,” “if not, how long have you been there?”) were designed to determine the style (inherited, active, placelessness, etc.) of place attachment of the participants. All of the questions asked in the interviews related to the theories and concepts discussed in the Introduction. Many of the themes that emerged from the interviews reflected these same concepts, yet several new topics were revealed by the interviews, as evidenced by the Results section of this paper.
Methods
Participants
Fifteen residents of islands in Hawai‘i (10 female, 5 male) who were at least 18 years of age, had lived in Hawai‘i for 3 or more years, and who (at the time of the study) lived in a vulnerable coastal area participated in this qualitative study. Three years was chosen as the minimum length of residency, because it takes 12 months of uninterrupted living to get residency in Hawaiʻi. We exceeded this as the minimum standard, however, since it is widely recognized that there are a great deal of year-long “tourists” who stay on the islands for a year before moving elsewhere. Three years is an amount of time that suggests a commitment to place and the possibility of staying long-term (Scannell & Gifford, 2014).
All of the six major Hawaiian Islands were represented. * Participants were located via personal and professional networks of the Institute for Climate and Peace (potential participants were pinpointed and then sent a recruitment email) as well as via subsequent snowball sampling. This project was approved by the Middlebury College Institutional Review Board.
Materials
An interview guide structured the open-ended question section of the interviews (Appendix A1). Since the interviews took place during COVID-19, all interviews were conducted via Zoom. Once on Zoom with the interviewer, the interviewee was asked to provide verbal consent for their participation in the study. Each interview lasted for ∼50 min.
Coding the transcripts
Interviews were transcribed verbatim using a combination of Otter.ai followed by the first author reviewing the transcript for accuracy. The coding strategy for this study was rooted in an iterative process that relied on a deep familiarization with the data that resulted from immersive rounds of reading the transcripts. Interviews were analyzed using a thematic analysis approach that combined a deductive and inductive qualitative coding strategy (Braun & Clarke, 2006). This system of qualitative coding is top-down and occurs when the researcher creates a set of codes (deductively) and then reads through the transcripts to find excerpts that match the codes.
This initial set of codes was generated based off of high-level themes that came up across multiple interviews. As the data were being coded deductively, inductive coding—coding based on nodes that emerge from the raw data itself—also took place. Inductive coding led to the discovery of several new themes. The combination of these two strategies revealed a set of seven themes (Table 1). Each theme is described and backed by language and narratives from interviewees. Although the coding itself was completed by the first author, two of the other three researchers were involved in overseeing the coding protocols and in the analysis process.
Results
This study examined the question: What are the social and psychological factors that underlie the decisions of coastal residents in Hawaiʻi to consider climate migration as an adaptive strategy to climate change?
Rootedness
All of the interviewees expressed a strong sense of place and connection to Hawaiʻi. This attachment is rooted in connection to community, love of the natural environment, and Indigenous/ancestral ties. These factors that connect interviewees to place manifested themselves in a few ways. First, respondents expressed a hope for permanence, or a desire to remain in Hawaiʻi for the rest of their lives. Second, participants discussed the ways that they “give back” to their communities through their careers, volunteerism, and general community involvement.
Community belonging is manifest by participants' familiarity with their neighbors and the informal support networks that arise from these connections. Interviewees described going places and always seeing people they know. A number of participants mentioned “coconut wireless,” a colloquial Hawaiian term that refers to the word-of-mouth communication lines between inhabitants of Hawaiʻi. This form of communicating news, gossip, and information reflects the interconnectedness of residents of Hawaiʻi. Rather than needing to rely on formal news sources, residents depend on each other to know what is happening in their community. One participant summed up the neighborly quality of the islands:
I pretty much know most of my neighbors in my direct perimeter around the house. Kind of old-school—the guy up the street is a carpenter so he's fixed our house and when hurricane season comes, we check up on each other.
For others, community belonging was grounded in a generational connection to place. Having family that lived on these islands for generations increases the familiarity and close-knit community feel described by participants. A statement by one interviewee describes her family's longstanding connection to the Hawaiian Islands:
We have deep roots here. And everybody knows us and different families are associated with different things: they used to be taro farmers, they used to be corn farmers, or you have the best mango trees. So, you kind of know who to go to for different things. And I love that.
This quotation also reflects the intimate connection between participants and the land that they inhabit, or the ʻāina. Ties to the outdoors might be related to subsistence and communal exchange, based in beauty and recreation, and/or associated with a deep spiritual cognizance tied to Indigenous ways of being. Hunting and fishing were a few activities that interviewees took part in to provide nourishment for themselves and/or their families. For others, their relationship to the surrounding natural environment was centered around outdoor recreational activities. Many interviewees brought up surfing regularly.
In one interview, a mother mentioned that her daughter participates in rodeo as a way to maintain and develop her relationship with the land. Another participant described the way in which her athletic pursuits are bookended by time at the beach. In addition to increasing participants' levels of place attachment, these place-based activities also serve to increase participants' place dependence, as their home communities are harmonious with their way of life.
Beyond the connections built around survival and/or recreation, many participants appreciated the ʻāina through a spiritual lens. This understanding is rooted in Native Hawaiian TEK and is premised on a framework of kinship, which recognizes that humans are part of the broader natural world. When the ʻāina is positioned as part of oneself, it becomes one's kuleana—or responsibility—to protect the natural world. One participant underscored the way that she and Hawaiians view themselves in relation to the ʻāina:
I think one thing that I love about living here and why I don't think I could ever live anywhere else is, that in Ōlelo Hawaiʻi, in our language, we have no word for nature. Because nature wasn't separate. Āina is land, but nature is not something separate, nature is not something you experience.
With this appreciation, several participants commented on their connection to the specific parts of the ʻāina—the ocean, flora and fauna, the mountains—as a place to strengthen one's identity and provide healing. For these participants, their place identity was colored by their relationship to the natural world. Because of this deep interrelation to the outdoors, many participants spoke of their experience detecting changes to the natural world.
Through direct, firsthand observation and proximity to nature, one is able to notice even small changes to the environment. The following quotation, from a filmmaker who spends much of his time out on the ocean fishing, reflects this lifelong sense of inquiry and desire for understanding of the natural world:
I'm constantly out there because I'm trying to learn the environment and the animals. It's going to be lifelong learning. That's what keeps me really addicted to being on the ocean. It's constantly changing and just learning those patterns. Just to create, I don't know, a sense of peace in myself, but also a sense of connection and just keep you really humble.
As a product of this community belonging and deep connection to the outdoors, participants expressed desires to “give back” to their community. Many participants reported volunteering regularly in their community. In addition, many participants had professions that focused on community improvement and adaptation (it should be noted, however, that since many of the participants were recruited through the networks of the Institute for Climate and Peace, it is possible that the careers/volunteer engagements of the sample were not reflective of the broader population in Hawaiʻi).
Because of these strong bonds between people and with the ʻāina, almost all participants expressed that they wanted to remain in Hawaiʻi long-term. Participants noted that they could not imagine not living in Hawaiʻi. Several participants commented that even in the face of adversity—climate change related or otherwise—they did not see themselves leaving Hawaiʻi. Only a few participants mentioned the possibility of moving at some point in their lifetimes. One individual mentioned that she would only move if she or her husband needed medical care that they were unable to access in Hawaiʻi. The overwhelming majority of interviewees, however, had no intention of moving whatsoever due to their strong sense of place and high levels of place attachment.
Safety and security
Even though participants acknowledged the risks that climate change poses to their communities, interviewees felt relatively safe, at least in the present moment. This sense of security was related to participants' personal confidence in their ability to adapt and manage the effects of a warming planet. Hawaiʻi, a place that is highly remote and geographically isolated, is fragile and vulnerable to shocks to the environment. At the same time, opportunities exist to cultivate resilience.
In keeping with this belief in competence, one participant referenced the ahupuaʻa land division system in Hawaiʻi. An ahupuaʻa is a section of land that runs from the ridge to reef, or from the mountains to the sea. The interviewee tied the ahupua'a system to competence by noting that: “Within this system, you have everything you could possibly need … everything that the community would require for survival, and I would say even more thrival, is found in this ahupua'a system.”
Notwithstanding years of oppression and displacement that have often stripped Native Hawaiians of their agency, these communities have survived and maintained their unique cultural identity. This resilience is partially a result of Native Hawaiian TEK, which emphasizes the inseparability of humankind from the natural world. Given the interconnectedness of all things on the planet, when there is an external adversity, according to Native Hawaiian TEK, the suffering becomes deeply personal leading to adaptation. One interviewee applied this mindset to climate change resilience:
And I think it also goes back to the thing I said about the Hawaiian worldview that doesn't separate nature from ourselves and I actually think that that is our way to solve—I don't want to say solve, climate change, because the climate has changed and is changing—but it is a way to adapt.
This powerful capacity to adapt manifests as skills and resources that interviewees possess. Examples of resilient tools that participants mentioned include purifying water without conventional equipment, stockpiling of emergency food supplies, preparation of grab and go kits, and the skills to grow or hunt for food. Perhaps the most important asset, however, is the support and confidence that come from living in a place with such a highly connected community.
The interviewees' informal support networks serve to uplift community members and ensure that each and every individual is safe. One interviewee commented on the plethora of competencies she has in her back pocket, were there to be a disaster: “So I would say, three things come to mind, we have community, and we have space that is growing food already, and we have skills to harvest to kill.”
This language and feeling of not being “freak[ed] out” was common among participants. This sense of security is not only the product of participants' competence at adapting but also a result of their acceptance of their situation. For the interviewees who grew up on the Hawaiian Islands, they are not new to natural disasters and environmental dangers. One participant expressed her innate feelings of safety: “I feel safe. But again, safety I guess is a state of mind because growing up, I think I just accepted that living in Hawaiʻi, that's just something you're going to have to deal with.”
This tone of acceptance makes sense when paired with competence and preparedness. Climate-related disasters are unpredictable and cannot be anticipated with any accuracy. However, if one is prepared and resilient, there is not much else to do other than continue to build their community and accept reality.
Uncertainty and fear
Even though most interviewees expressed a sense of safety and security in the face of climate change, they also displayed a measure of uncertainty and fear, especially regarding the indirect consequences of climate change in Hawaiʻi as well as the global repercussions of the crisis. When considering the indirect repercussions of climate change, participants highlighted anxieties about food security, increased cost of living, a shortage of shelters for disasters, and homelessness. Many of these indirect impacts are elevated in a place like Hawaiʻi.
The Hawaiian Islands rely primarily on vast quantities of imports to feed its inhabitants, power its energy sources, and provide other resources to the local community. This reliance on imports translates into uncertainty. Climate change will continue to magnify this issue, since changing environmental conditions will make it more difficult to grow food regionally. Transporting food across oceans may also prove to be less reliable as climate impacts become more severe. An interviewee commented on the variability of Hawaiʻi's imports:
Because you never know what's going to happen … on a Wednesday, just for example, is the day that our barge comes in. So on Wednesdays, it's full of bread. It's full of milk. You go on a Tuesday, there's no milk, no bread … there's not a lot of options all the time on a Tuesday, for sure.
In addition to concerns about these indirect consequences, interviewees also expressed fear about climate change on a global scale and over a long-term time horizon. Although participants generally feel secure today, they acknowledged that climate change is a global phenomenon and other regions may not have the same community resources or adaptation skills required to mitigate the effects of climate change.
Firsthand observation of changes
Interviewees' regular interactions with nature make them especially sensitive to changes in the landscapes. Participants shared a variety of different ways that their communities have shifted, including, but not limited to, social, ecological, financial, and structural changes. Since many of the participants have lived in Hawaiʻi for the majority, or the entirety, of their lives, they also reminisced about the way their communities used to be during their childhood.
These interviewees were able to observe shifts in their environments firsthand, so they did not report relying on external sources of information to learn of changes. One interviewee, who has lived in Hawaiʻi for her entire life, remarked that she notices climate-related risks before “[they] become a news blast.” In the following quotation, one participant outlines a few of the ways that his life has been reshaped as a result of changes to his local environment that he witnessed firsthand or through family:
Well, I'm the lei maker, so I can talk about things that relate to lei making. When I looked at changes in the land, I also noticed changes in the ocean. But I'm not the expert of that. I just observe, I'm connected to the ocean, I go into the ocean when I need to. I have family members that are the fisherpeople, and so we rely on them to give us sustenance for special occasions, because everything is dwindling.
Even though this participant is not a fisherman, he is able to rely on those who fish in his community for knowledge of changes to the ocean. Although it is not realistic for each interviewee to be well versed in every aspect of the natural world, community networks in Hawaiʻi ensure that inhabitants of the islands are informed about a wide range of environmental issues.
Solastalgia
Most interviewees expressed an aversion to the changes that they are witnessing to the natural world, along with a longing for the way the environment used to be. For many participants, their intimate knowledge of the natural world translates into a strong sense of solastalgia, or feelings of anxiety that result from environmental change (Albrecht, 2005). The solastalgia is sentimental and is also rooted in fear of how these changes will impact the lives of residents of Hawaiʻi in the future. In the following quotation, one participant recalls his childhood associations with limu, a Polynesian term for edible plants living in or near the water:
When I was a kid I can recall limu, or native sea reeds, grasses, washing up and the volume of limu that would wash up would cause the air to—at the time I felt like—stink. But it was this beautiful wafting of this fragrance. And now that we don't have it … probably over the last 15 to 20 years, it's dissipated to zero. And now that we don't have it, I miss it. I wish I had that back.
This language of “missing” something that was once present colored most interviewees' responses. As climate change continues to intensify, it is safe to assume that these feelings of solastalgia will get stronger.
Distrust and resentment
Although informal community networks are effective tools for communication and support, many participants articulated a lack of faith in established institutions. Interviewees shared that they were disappointed in the way that governments and other top-down institutions respond to climate-related risks and disasters. Participants expressed frustration toward the government's weak response to climate change not only on a national level but also toward the local government's lack of support in Hawaiʻi.
Interviewees also perceived a disconnect between the decisions made by these high-level institutions and the lived experiences and circumstances of local communities. In the following quotation, one participant describes the way that the poor institutional response is felt on a local level:
I honestly don't know if I would turn to the institutions. I think they've shown that they are not equipped and are not ready for disasters. Not even having enough shelters … that's 101 around disaster preparedness, and they are not able to accommodate that. They don't have food storage supplied up … there's an estimate that if the ship stopped coming, we would maybe have five days of food supply for the island.
Although this quotation reflects her distrust, other interviewees exhibited outright resentment. This resentment was directed at the systems of oppression that have generated injustice in Hawaiʻi. For instance, many interviewees brought up tourism in Hawaiʻi and the associated costs of tourists on Native Hawaiians and the islands' permanent population. Other topics that were irritants for interviewees included: the military presence on the islands and corporations spraying chemicals on agricultural fields.
Legacy
A number of interviewees mentioned the need to care for the planet for the sake of their children or future generations. Participants' sense of rootedness in Hawaiʻi extends beyond the present, as interviewees expressed an intergenerational connection to place. Many interviewees mentioned that they wanted to raise their kids (and even their kids' kids) in Hawaiʻi. One participant related his call to preserve the environment to the Native Hawaiian view of the environment as something greater than humanity:
We view the environment is greater than us, whereas they view that man or humanity or woman—all of people—is greater than the environment, and we own it. But fundamentally, I don't own this land. I'm just the caretaker of this place to give it to the next generation and ensure that they can live in harmony and balance with this place.
Stewarding the land and leaving behind the lightest possible footprint—with the future of the earth and of humanity in mind—were both themes that came up repeatedly in the interviews. The past, present, and future all played an important role in participants' connection to place.
Discussion
The results suggest that place attachment and feelings of immediate security toward climate-related threats prevented participants from considering climate-induced migration. That said, interviewees were deeply aware of changes resulting from the warming climate and its associated risks and were therefore eager to implement community-based adaptations to ensure that their beloved communities remain safe and intact.
As expected, levels of place attachment among participants were very high. The types of place attachment most commonly expressed among interviewees were the inherited attachment style and the active attachment style (Quinn et al., 2018). Those who did not have well-established roots in Hawaiʻi demonstrated an active attachment—choosing to live in Hawaiʻi because the lifestyle on the islands aligned well with their personal ethos (Quinn et al., 2018). In addition to place attachment, interviewees also had strong place identities and place dependencies—the two other components of sense of place.
Place identities and dependencies were shaped by the place-based activities, feelings, and practices (i.e., surfing, hunting, volunteering, interconnection with the outdoors, a lens of spiritual understanding, etc.) described by interviewees.
As postulated by Kanaʻiaupuni and Malone (2006), place attachment for the interviewees spanned three domains: (1) physical and spiritual, (2) genealogical, and (3) socio-political and historical (Kanaʻiaupuni & Malone, 2006). However, community belonging, which is largely missing from the domains outlined by Kanaʻiaupuni and Malone (2006), was perhaps the most prominent feature of place attachment expressed in these interviews.
Community belonging helped interviewees feel as though they were supported and uplifted through informal local networks. Because of this supportive environment, participants were keen on giving back to their communities through volunteerism and other activities. All of the different aspects of place attachment summed together contributed to a sense of rootedness. Most participants had no intention of moving away from their homes in Hawaiʻi.
Because of this deep connection to place, participants were keenly aware of changes to their environment due to climate change. Interviewees were tapped into both the minute and broad ways that their surroundings have transformed through firsthand observation and interactions with the natural world. Participants exhibited signs of solastalgia (Albrecht, 2005) toward their changing landscapes. The intimate relationships that participants had with the land acted in opposition to some of the common place-based biases that relate to climate change.
Interviewees actually expressed the reverse of psychological distance (Bonaiuto et al., 2016)—instead of holding the false assumption that environmental risks are less severe at the local level and are far-off issues, participants were acutely aware of the impact of climate change on their surroundings. The environmental optimism bias—people erroneously believe their environment is safer than other environments (De Dominicis et al., 2015)—also did not apply to the feelings expressed by the participants.
These interviewees did not hold the assumption that their community is safer than other communities, yet they did believe that they had the tools needed to manage climate risks.
Participants generally believed that they had the resources and competence necessary to deal with present and future threats. Because of this preparedness, interviewees felt secure and safe in their current situations. In addition, interviewees demonstrated a sense of acceptance of their circumstances: They understood the dangers associated with climate risks, and they were poised to adapt and build local resilience.
Perhaps this is related to the tight-knit nature of participants' communities, which leads interviewees to possess high levels of social capital. Networks, norms, and sanctions—the three elements of social capital—were all present in participants' social circles (Aßheuer et al., 2013). When communities have higher levels of social capital, they are more likely to respond effectively to climate impacts.
Even though interviewees felt secure in their present circumstances, several participants expressed concerns about the indirect impacts of climate change as well as the long-term implications of a warming planet. In a place as isolated as the Hawaiian Islands, many of these indirect impacts (food insecurity, an exorbitant cost of living, homelessness, etc.) are felt more intensely than they would be elsewhere.
Interviewees preferred local, community-led adaptation strategies as compared with institutional responses because coastal participants lacked confidence in governmental bodies and other institutions. For some participants, this distrust may have stemmed from the collective trauma associated with the way that residents of Hawaiʻi have been historically mistreated by conquering settlers and other imposed powers. Although Hawaiian society has been disrupted by these forces, it has also led to an opportunity for the residents of Hawaiʻi to bind together in the quest for self-determination (Kanaʻiaupuni & Malone, 2006).
This desire to improve one's local community is also connected to participants' concern for future generations. The influence of legacy is a common underlying motivation for caring about climate change (Zaval, Markowitz, & Weber, 2015). Even for interviewees who were not planning on having children, a concern for future generations was central to their worldview. Native Hawaiian connection to place is intergenerational and extends beyond each individual's birth and death through the burial of the body back into the Earth (Kanaʻiaupuni & Malone, 2006).
For residents of Hawaiʻi that, for whatever reason, may be less concerned about climate change, priming legacy motivations may be an effective strategy to promote engagement with the issue (Zaval et al., 2015).
It is necessary to note that although these findings shed light on the perspectives of a subset of individuals on the Hawaiian Islands, they do not intend to represent the population of coastal residents of Hawaiʻi. Since no comparable study has been conducted within these communities, this study offers new knowledge and reflects a leading edge forward for more generalizable research on this subject. Hopefully, this study will inspire future research projects that focus on similar lines of inquiry yet involve a broader cross-section of Hawaiʻi's population.
Conclusions
As mentioned earlier, one potential limitation is that this study involved only 15 participants and thus, the results of this study are not generalizable to the entire population of Hawaiʻi. That said, this study offers rich qualitative findings and a saturation of themes was reached by the final interview (Vasileiou, Barnett, Thorpe, & Young, 2018). Another limitation regarding the sample population was that many of the participants were recruited from the networks of employees of the Institute of Climate and Peace.
Because of the explicit mission of the nonprofit to combat climate change in the Hawaiʻi and Pacific-Asia region, it follows that the organization's networks are largely composed of people who care about similar topics. This environmental awareness of the participants may have skewed the results. Finally, the virtual nature of the interviews may have inadvertently altered the results, since people can behave differently over video platforms. Since these interviews took place during the COVID-19 pandemic, the researcher chose not to travel to the Islands so as to not further the spread of the virus.
In terms of future research, conducting a comparative study between Indigenous and non-Indigenous participants could showcase the overlap and/or discrepancies within the responses to climate change of various groups that reside in one location. It may also be revealing to do a comparative study between two different coastal communities (i.e., Hawaiʻi and Puerto Rico). This would shed light on the elements of the Hawaiian Islands that are unique to that region specifically, versus which facets are universal to all coastal areas.
Finally, a natural next step for future research would involve conducting this study again with a larger sample such that the findings can be more broadly applicable to diverse populations within the Islands.
It is important to recognize that there is no single panacea to address the impacts of climate change for residents of Hawaiʻi. Instead, solutions should be tailored to the individual attitudes and choices of Hawaiʻi's population. Based on the interviews from this study, the majority of respondents were not inclined to consider relocation in response to climate-related threats. Instead, increasing local resilience through adaptive measures and volunteer efforts were favored by interviewees. As the window of time to act on climate change in PICTs is narrowing, this novel research reveals the importance of foregrounding the psychological dimensions of climate change in decisions about adaptation and mitigation strategies.
Footnotes
Acknowledgments
The author would like to thank Dr. Michelle McCauley for her support and encouragement throughout the process of completing this thesis. As an expert in Conservation Psychology, Dr. McCauley offered constructive feedback and invaluable insights that enhanced the content and structure of this report. Dr. McCauley celebrated the author's successes throughout this process, while also challenging the author to test out new perspectives and directions for the author's research. The author would also like to offer thanks to the second reader, Dr. Allison Jacobel. Dr. Jacobel was eager to help out and offer her expertise in topics related to oceanography and climate science. Dr. Jacobel's detailed line edits reflect her attention to detail and her genuine concern for student research.
The author would like to offer immense gratitude to Dr. Kealoha Fox, the Hawaiʻi-based supervisor at the Institute for Climate and Peace. Dr. Fox contributed place-based wisdom about Hawaiʻi, with specific knowledge of Indigenous perspectives and identities. Using her vast personal and professional networks in Hawaiʻi, Dr. Fox helped recruit interviewees for the study. The author is immensely grateful to Dr. Fox and the Institute for Climate and Peace for their willingness to collaborate on this research project. Lastly, the author is incredibly thankful to friends and family who have rooted for the author throughout this entire research process. This research was, undoubtedly, a group endeavor and is thankful for all the people who were involved.
Authors' Contributions
The authors confirm contribution to the article as follows: study conception, design, and data collection: all authors; data collection: K.F. and I.R.P.; analysis and interpretation of results: M.M.C. and I.R.P.; draft article preparation: all authors. All authors reviewed the results and approved the final version of the article.
Author Disclosure Statement
No competing financial interests exist.
Funding Information
This research is supported by Middlebury College (through the Senior Research Project Supplement [SRPS] funding) as well as through funds from the Institute for Climate and Peace, which allowed the author to generously compensate all participants.