Abstract
Introduction
“So is climate change real?”
“Is it caused by humans?”
The sinking feeling caused by these innocuous questions is likely familiar to many climate scientists. They are questions that we are asked on strikingly regular basis, and that- knowingly or unknowingly- cast doubt on the fundamental scientific consensus in our community. The particular irony of this occasion was that it occurred in Ny Ålesund, a renowned research station in the high Arctic, at the height of the melt season by some well-meaning American tourists inquiring about our research, as we unpacked our equipment in t-shirts under the bright 24-hour sunshine. Moments like this bring into sharp relief the disconnection of polar scientists witnessing and researching the climate crisis and the lack of understanding or awareness within the general public.
For polar scientists, the spectre of the climate crisis looms large over their field. For most early career researchers (ECRs), it has always been there, as the focus of projects, a perennial focus in grant applications, conferences, and introductions. This saturation extends beyond the field into social interaction, media, lifestyle and self-perception. ‘Eco-anxiety,’ ‘ecological grief’ and ‘climate trauma’ are recent terms being coined to explain and define the uptick of worsening mental health associated with these challenges [1]. Psychological, social, and neural studies warn of the possible long-term effects, with the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) and World Health Organization (WHO) identifying mental health and wellbeing as vulnerable within this context [2, 3]. However, methodologies to address mental health consequences are still underrepresented and discussed within the academic circles most affected [4].
“So is climate change real?”
“Is it caused by humans?”
The sinking feeling caused by these innocuous questions is likely familiar to many climate scientists. They are questions that we are asked on strikingly regular basis, and that- knowingly or unknowingly- cast doubt on the fundamental scientific consensus in our community. The particular irony of this occasion was that it occurred in Ny Ålesund, a renowned research station in the high Arctic, at the height of the melt season by some well-meaning American tourists inquiring about our research, as we unpacked our equipment in t-shirts under the bright 24-hour sunshine. Moments like this bring into sharp relief the disconnection of polar scientists witnessing and researching the climate crisis and the lack of understanding or awareness within the general public.
For polar scientists, the spectre of the climate crisis looms large over their field. For most early career researchers (ECRs), it has always been there, as the focus of projects, a perennial focus in grant applications, conferences, and introductions. This saturation extends beyond the field into social interaction, media, lifestyle and self-perception. ‘Eco-anxiety,’ ‘ecological grief’ and ‘climate trauma’ are recent terms being coined to explain and define the uptick of worsening mental health associated with these challenges [1]. Psychological, social, and neural studies warn of the possible long-term effects, with the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) and World Health Organization (WHO) identifying mental health and wellbeing as vulnerable within this context [2, 3]. However, methodologies to address mental health consequences are still underrepresented and discussed within the academic circles most affected [4].
Original language | English |
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Article number | e0000359 |
Number of pages | 4 |
Journal | PLOS Climate |
Volume | 3 |
Issue number | 2 |
DOIs | |
Publication status | Published - 1 Feb 2024 |