Not Technically Refugees: When Climate Change Forces You to Leave

A family lost their home to rising seas—but the courts said they’re not refugees. What happens when climate forces people to move, but the system isn’t built to protect them?

Transcript

Intro

Hi, I’m Dave, and welcome to Running My Mouth Off.

This is the first episode under a slightly new name. We’re still talking climate, but not in that big, abstract, “end of the world doom and gloom” type way. We’re talking about people. What they’re going through. What it actually feels like when the climate crisis shows up on your front door.

Today, I’m going to introduce you to a family—and they are the Teitiotas. They’re from Kiribati, which is a small island nation out in the Pacific. You probably couldn’t spot it on a map—I know I couldn’t either until a few weeks ago. It’s made up though of 33 islands, scattered across the ocean, almost like somebody dropped a handful of sand into the sea. And to see it on a map, it really does look that insignificant. But, it is a place that about 120,000 people call home. 

And, to look at pictures of Kiribati, it’s the kind of place that looks like a screensaver; think crystal water, blue skies, and kids playing in the surf, that kind of stuff. Lately though, this version of paradise has kinda been falling apart.

Saltwater has started to creep into their gardens of the people who live there. The wells that they rely on for water are starting to become salty. And every storm that shows up, takes a little bit more of their land. And eventually, it’s not just about flooding or bad harvests—it’s becoming about whether the island can stay above water at all.

The story of the Teitiotas, it’s not one of people fleeing a war or political persecution. There wasn’t sudden catastrophe. Just a slow, steady unraveling of normal everyday life. And eventually, it got to a point at which they had to leave.

So they left. They packed up their kids and went to New Zealand and applied for asylum, explaining to New Zealand that climate change had made their home unlivable.

And New Zealand, the courts there, said no.

The court ruled that climate change wasn’t persecution. And, under the 1951 Refugee Convention, you have to be persecuted because of your race, your religion, political beliefs, that kind of thing—in order to be considered a refugee.

So, apparently, being chased out by the ocean doesn’t make the cut.

Part 2: So What Counts as a Refugee?

It’s odd though. You lose your home, your land, your way of life—not to war or to politics, but to rising seas, to things that are happening in nature, for reasons that are completely out of your control—and the system tells you it doesn’t qualify.

That’s because the definition of a “refugee” hasn’t changed in over 70 years. It was originally defined back in 1951, mostly to protect people fleeing the aftermath of World War II. And according to that definition, you only count as a refugee if you’re being persecuted for things like race, religion, nationality, political views, or membership in a particular group.

Climate change didn’t make the cut back then because it wasn’t a thing yet, it wasn’t on the radar.  And now, at a time when climate change is very much on our radar, it’s still not making the cut. 

So, if you’re running from a dictator? That qualifies. But someone running from a flood, a wildfire, or because their entire food and water supply has gone pretty much been blown away? Not so much covered.

And the reality is though, most people displaced by climate change, they’re aren’t even crossing international borders. They’re moving to the next town, the next region—still in the same country, usually to a place where there’s friends or family. Which means they don’t qualify for refugee status at all,  even if their lives have been completely upended.

There’s a whole lot of debate about whether the rules should change; whether we should recognize people displaced by climate change the same way we do those fleeing a war or political persecution. Some feel that we should absolutely do this. Others push back though, saying the system that’s set up, the current system, simply can’t handle it. There’s the concern that expanding the definition could potentially overwhelm the systems, or, just make entirely it too hard to sort out where reasons of climate ends and other issues begin.

But, while the legal world argues over definitions, the real world keeps moving. And water doesn’t pause for paperwork or meetings. Families like the Teitiotas are still losing their homes. They’re till packing up their lives. Still hearing the word no when they have literally nowhere else to go.

And the people most affected, like the Teitiotas? They’re usually the ones with the least power to do anything about it.

Part 3: Let’s Attach Some Numbers to This

Let’s attach some numbers to this so we know what we’re looking at.

In 2022 alone, more than 32 million people were displaced by weather-related disasters; things like floods, storms, droughts, wildfires. And these aren’t projections. This is just what happened in one year. So, right now? This stuff it’s already happening.

Some experts say that by 2050, as many as 1.2 billion people could be displaced by climate impacts. And, to look at how many of these climate change tipping points are beginning to fall, are beginning to show up. I can understand that number being a bit conservative but already, it’s a that’s almost too big to wrap your head around. And again, keep in mind, most of those people won’t be crossing oceans or showing up at somebody’s border. They’ll move within their own countries, to the next city, the next patch of higher ground, wherever there’s a shot at some sort of stability.

But in some places, there isn’t a next town. There isn’t higher ground. Places like the Pacific Islands or parts of Southeast Asia, they don’t have a safety net built into the landscape. For example, in Kiribati? The tallest piece of land is only 266 feet, which is about 81 meters, above sea level. So when the water does rise in places like that? There’s really nowhere to go but away.

And when people do leave, it’s not just a home they’re walking away from. It’s a community, history, identity, it’s where their ancestors are buried. Things like that don’t make the headlines but, to those who are being forced out of their homes, these things still matter pretty deeply.

The toughest part in all of this though is that there’s no real plan. There’s no global agreement, no legal safety net. The people on the frontlines who are being effected by this are still very much in legal no-man’s-land of sorts. 

Closing Thoughts

So yeah—next time you hear the phrase “climate refugee,” it’s not just a headline.

It’s  families like the Teitiotas, trying to stay on a land that’s disappearing beneath their feet. It’s parents looking at their kids and wondering not just where they’ll live, but if they’ll be allowed to belong anywhere else.

And talking about the system? Right now, it’s not built for them. At least not yet.

And the hardest part? The people who are facing this first, the ones being forced to leave absolutely everything behind, are often the ones who did the least to cause the problem in the first place.

But paying attention to things like this—that’s something. Hearing these stories and letting them shift, even a little bit, how we think, how we see things, that matters and that’s how change starts.

So thanks for listening and, if this hit you in the gut a little bit—or brought our something new or different into your brain, and thinking about it that felt a little arrogant to say, but feel free to share this, because this how these types of conversations grow. It’s just keeping it in the forefront of our minds and keeping the topic alive and growing. 

Anyways, what is up next? We are going to talk about water, who has it, who doesn’t, and what it means when something that basic starts to run out. Again, thank you for listening to running my mouth off, I’m Dave and I hope you have an amazing week.