The Magical World of Climate Change in Iqaluit

A recent article in the Nunatsiaq Online newspaper about climate change in Iqaluit, Nunavut got me wondering about what is really going on up there. After all, Iqaluit is one of those Ground Zero epicenters of Arctic climate change impacts. Or so they say.

One of the first articles on climate change in Iqaluit that I came across was by Sara Statham at Vice.com entitled "I Went Seal Hunting in the Arctic and Saw Climate Change Firsthand." In her article, the following claims appeared:

"I first started coming to the Arctic in February 2011. Initially, I came to Iqaluit to conduct scientific research on how changing environmental conditions impact Inuit hunters' ability to harvest traditional food, and how that in turn impacts the food security of Iqalummiut (that is, the people and citizens who live in Iqaluit). I was focusing on a particularly anomalous climatic event, which was the winter of 2010-2011. This winter was off the charts in terms of instrumental data: ambient temperatures were significantly warme [sic], it rained in February when it was supposed to be the coldest time of year and -- for the first time on record -- the open water season exceeded the sea ice season. All this to say, I was in the territorial capital of Iqaluit, Nunavut, to get hands-on research about how these bizarre environmental conditions in the Arctic affected the Inuit traditional food system. What I wasn't expecting to learn, however, was the significance of those effects first-hand, by tagging along during a hunting trip."

It rained in Iqaluit during February 2011? Well, that is odd.

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...Raining in February

I asked Ms. Statham on Twitter about this issue, and indicated that "in your recent Vice article you claimed it rained in Iqaluit during Feb 2011? Evidence?" Ms. Statham replied via Twitter: "That was anecdotal from a community member, which was good enough evidence for the purpose of my research." According to Environment Canada's "Daily Data Report for February 2011" at the "Iqaluit AWOS Nunavut" climate station, the temperature in Iqaluit during February 2011 never got above -16.5 C. How can it rain at -16.5 C? And that was the extreme maximum temperature for the month. According to Environment Canada's Adjusted and Homogenized Canadian Climate Data database, the average temperature during February 2011 in Iqaluit was -27.9 C, which is below the February long-term average since records began (i.e., 1946-2013) of -26.2 C. And there has been no significant trend in February's temperature at Iqaluit over the entire historical record -- there is nearly a perfect non-correlation. The Vice.com article went on:

"To be sure, the winter of 2010-2011 was statistically anomalous in terms of environmental conditions throughout the Canadian Arctic, and these conditions manifested locally in Iqaluit. The average annual temperature was 5 C warmer than the long-term average, which had a significant influence on sea ice formation. Freeze-up didn't occur until 59 days later than usual, which meant that hunters were unable to use the sea ice as a hunting platform until January. Lucky for me, it was February."

If we look at Environment Canada's database again, there is absolutely no sign of a statistically significant trend in Iqaluit's winter temperatures since -- you guessed it -- records began. We're looking at p-values in the neighborhood of 0.33 to 0.5 using both parametric and non-parametric trend analyses methods, which means not even close to statistical significance. Sure, the last couple decades have seen a warming trend in Iqaluit's winter temperatures, but that just offsets the cooling trend from when records began in the late 1940s that continued up to the early 1990s -- so overall, no net trend. Likewise, no significant trends in January, December, or November temperatures since records began, either -- to go along with the absence of a significant trend for February as well. Consequently, one must be cautious in interpreting recent data, and especially when making projections into the future and contextualizing concerns over food security. Climate change issues are, relatively speaking, big business in Iqaluit. Back in 2006, the media reported that "Iqaluit is spending $80,000 to determine how climate change is affecting its operations. The federally funded study is part of the city's overall plan to reduce its greenhouse gas emissions by 2012." In 2006, Iqaluit's population was 6,184 people. By 2011 it had apparently reached a whopping 6,699 people. Thus, the city was spending about $13/person on climate change. It doesn't sound like a lot, but pro-rated to size, it is analogous to Toronto spending over $70 million to "determine how climate change is affecting its operations." Perhaps Toronto does spend that much, or more, but this is real money. And I very much doubt that reducing Iqaluit's GHG emissions is worthy of federal funding. It is a tiny community in the far north, and its emissions are irrelevant. The money is either much better not spent at all, or at least spent on worthy causes. Even this year, we read that "Iqaluit joins rally on climate change" and apparently "Greenpeace [is] to carry Inuktitut banner at People's Climate March in New York City." That appears to rule out rational conversations about environmental changes in this region. Partnering with activist organizations is not the best approach to getting the science right. Back to the Nunatsiaq Online story, which raised the following concerns in Iqaluit:

"Berry picking is part of an annual early-autumn tradition, when Inuit -- typically women -- are seen squatting on the tundra filling pails with the highly nutritious tundra fruits. Berries are used to make jams, sweets, teas and also frozen to save for winter. But the women Bunce interviewed reported that more and more often, berries are seedy and less juicy, and generally less accessible. She can't say for certain what the exact conditions are for a good or bad berry season. Inuit have suggested that warm and wet conditions often translate to a good berry harvest, but it depends on who you talk to, and when those conditions happen. But while a changing climate might be a factor in poorer berry harvests, the rapid growth of Iqaluit as the territory's capital city has meant the expansion of housing and other development. And that's pushed the berry-picking areas farther away from the community, Bunce said. 'Traditionally, berry picking was a very accessible activity,' she said. 'If you have a bucket and a free hour, you could get out there. Now areas that used to be good for berry picking aren't any longer, and women have to travel farther to access them.' That's not just a cultural or food security issue, Bunce discovered; the women she interviewed said berry picking was also an important activity for mental health."

Once again, the population of Iqaluit is under 7,000. It is hardly a metropolis. And if you want to see its geographic spread, use Google Maps. As far as I can tell, there is no serious urban sprawl, and no place in town looks more than a few hundred meters from undeveloped areas. At an average walking speed of 5 km/h, covering 500 meters only takes six minutes. Is there really a serious mental health issue because of more difficult access to berries on the land due to "the expansion of housing and other development"? More to the point -- should we even be spending scarce public research dollars on these purported problems? Perhaps the answer to this question is self-evident.

Traditional ecological knowledge (TEK)

Much of this information is also unreliable. Traditional ecological knowledge (TEK) -- as it is often referred to -- generally lacks the objectivity and reproducibility that the true sciences retain. Certainly when it comes to climate, our memories are not infallible. We have enough problems generating reliable data using instrumentation. Add in the subjective components of the human mind under the influence of broader social pressures, policy goals, and their associated feedbacks, and we now have a recipe for knowledge disaster. Why Leona Aglukkaq, Canada's Minister of the Environment, continues to promote TEK remains an unfortunate mystery. Accepting TEK only encourages the movement away from rational science-based policy making and into the nebulous world of "feelings" and memories. This is the source of the problem that got us into hysteria over climate change, food security, and host of other issues -- which is exactly why so many of the environmental and social justice activists have attached themselves to the TEK proponents. The very same TEK that the environment minister adds credibility to is being used to halt or unnecessarily delay resource development projects, such as pipelines, oil sands expansion, and mines. Why a conservative government would choose to promote a concept that undermines their raison d'etre is not clear. In fact, it is downright self-defeating. So what we need in Iqaluit is less TEK, more science, and a balanced, objective view of what is -- and is not -- happening with the climate in this area.