Climate change is remaking what Australia eats - Lethal Heating Editor BDA

Key Points

Climate change is already disrupting Australian food production and prices, with risks expected to escalate by 2030, 2050 and 2100.1 Heat, drought, floods and supply-chain failures will hit horticulture, livestock, grains and fisheries differently across regions.3 Remote, Indigenous and low-income communities face the highest risks to food access and affordability.5 National risk assessments warn that primary industries and food are among Australia’s most climate‑exposed systems.6 Adaptation will demand new water, land and biosecurity management, alongside shifts in what is grown where.2 Urban farming, local food hubs and diversified supply chains can improve resilience and food security in cities and regions.8

Within a generation, the climate will change what Australians grow, how much it costs and who can afford to eat well.⁵

Short term shifts to 2030 are already visible on farms in heat‑stressed livestock, more volatile harvests and higher food prices after floods and droughts.⁷

By mid‑century, without strong global emissions cuts and rapid adaptation, staple crops such as wheat and barley are projected to suffer falling yields in many grain regions, while horticulture and irrigated agriculture face tightening water constraints.⁴

By 2100, higher warming scenarios point to deep risks for national food production, labour capacity and supply chains, with flow‑on effects for prices and diet quality.⁵

These impacts will not be felt evenly, with northern Australia, inland drylands, river‑dependent irrigation districts and coastal fisheries among the most exposed systems.²

Remote, Indigenous and low‑income communities, already facing higher rates of food insecurity, are expected to be hit hardest by climate‑driven shocks to availability, access and food quality.⁵

Australia’s first National Climate Risk Assessment has now placed primary industries and food among the nation’s priority climate risk systems, highlighting escalating threats from heat, drought, bushfires, storms and floods to 2100.⁶

Agricultural groups warn that without accelerated adaptation, climate change will drive higher on‑farm costs, more frequent supply disruptions and long‑term pressure on supermarket shelves and household budgets.⁷

Experts argue that the response must reach far beyond the farm gate, combining policy reform, new technologies, land‑use change and a rapid build‑out of urban and peri‑urban food systems to keep Australia fed in a harsher climate.¹

Short, medium and long‑term pressures

In the near term to 2030, Australian farms are already experiencing more frequent heatwaves, changed rainfall patterns and a higher risk of concurrent droughts and floods, which drive production losses and price spikes after extreme events.²

Analyses of the food supply chain suggest that climate‑related disasters will make temporary shortages and disrupted supermarket deliveries more common, even when national production is sufficient overall.⁸

By around 2050, climate projections for temperate Australia point to continued warming, less cool‑season rainfall and more intense droughts, with modelling for parts of the wheat–sheep belt indicating declines in wheat yields of up to several tens of per cent by 2080 without adaptation measures.⁴

Higher temperatures and changing water availability are expected to erode productivity in many irrigated and rain‑fed systems, unless farmers can shift planting dates, varieties, irrigation efficiency and farm layouts at scale.¹

Looking to 2100, global assessments warn that under high‑emissions scenarios, climate change could significantly reduce agricultural and fisheries productivity in countries that are home to the bulk of the world’s population, including Australia, with impacts on food supply, prices and nutrition.⁵

Heat stress on outdoor work is also projected to cut labour capacity in hot regions, which can increase production costs and crop prices, adding another channel through which climate change affects what consumers pay for food.⁵

Which foods and regions are most at risk

The national climate risk assessment and sector reports highlight livestock, horticulture, broadacre cropping and irrigated agriculture as among the most exposed parts of Australia’s food system.³

Livestock are vulnerable to extreme heat that harms animal welfare and reduces productivity, while pasture growth and feed quality are affected by hotter, drier conditions and more frequent droughts.³

Horticultural industries, including fruit and nuts, face rising risks of sunburn damage during heatwaves, alongside reduced winter chilling in temperate regions and altered flowering and yields in both temperate and tropical crops as cool‑season temperatures increase.³

Studies of Australian mixed crop–livestock systems show that warming of around half to more than one and a half degrees by 2030 can shift the optimal balance between cropping and grazing, encouraging more land to be allocated to pasture in drier regions as an adaptation strategy.¹

South‑eastern grain belts including parts of South Australia have been identified as facing potential wheat yield declines without adaptation by late century, although elevated carbon dioxide can partially offset some losses in some conditions.⁴

Coastal and river‑dependent regions are exposed to compounding pressures from sea‑level rise, ocean warming and changes in runoff, which can affect fisheries, aquaculture and irrigated crops that depend on reliable water flows.²

Who will feel the pain first

Climate change does not affect all households equally, and food security research shows that vulnerable groups typically include small‑scale producers, Indigenous communities and low‑income urban residents.⁵

In Australia, remote and regional communities already face higher food prices and fewer options, so climate‑driven disruptions to roads, freight and local production can quickly translate into shortages and sharp price rises in local shops.⁷

National climate risk assessments identify Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, communities and primary industries as systems that are particularly exposed to worsening climate hazards, including temperature extremes, drought, bushfires and floods.⁶

When extreme events hit multiple regions or happen alongside other shocks, such as pandemics, even robust supply chains can struggle, increasing the risk that remote communities see empty shelves while food remains available elsewhere in the country.⁸

Low‑income households, which already spend a higher share of their budgets on food, are particularly exposed when climate‑related events push up prices for fresh produce, meat and basic staples for months at a time.⁷

Heat, drought, floods, pests and broken links

Australia’s first National Climate Risk Assessment lists rising temperatures, drought, bushfires, storms, flooding and ocean warming among the priority hazards that will intensify under all plausible climate futures, with direct implications for food and agriculture.⁶

More frequent and severe heat extremes can damage crops, reduce livestock productivity, increase irrigation demand and raise the risk of heat stress for workers across the food system.²

Prolonged droughts reduce soil moisture and streamflows, cut yields and lead to higher input costs, especially for irrigation water, while intense rainfall and floods can cause severe soil erosion, nutrient loss and direct losses of crops and livestock.¹⁰

Climate change is also expected to increase some biosecurity risks, as changing rainfall and temperature patterns alter the survival, reproduction and spread of pests and diseases that affect crops, livestock and fisheries.³

Beyond the farm gate, climate‑driven disruptions to critical infrastructure and supply chains, such as road and rail closures during floods or fires, have already caused local food shortages and are projected to become more frequent as hazards worsen.⁸

Policy, technology and land management

Experts emphasise that limiting global warming through deep emissions cuts is essential to reduce long‑term risks to food systems, but that substantial adaptation is still required to manage the changes already locked in.⁵

International assessments of food, fibre and ecosystem products describe a suite of adaptation options for agriculture, including crop diversification, improved water management, climate‑resilient varieties, agroforestry and more flexible land‑use planning to strengthen resilience.⁵

Australian studies of mixed crop–livestock systems suggest that reallocating land towards livestock and pasture can improve farm profitability in some drier regions under moderate climate change, although this will not be feasible or desirable everywhere.¹

Horticulture reports highlight the need for better soil and water conservation, protection from extreme heat, and infrastructure and management practices that can cope with more intense rainfall and flooding, alongside investments in forecasting and decision tools for farmers.¹⁰

The National Adaptation Plan framework signals that governments are beginning to integrate climate risk into planning for primary industries and food, including actions on water security, infrastructure protection, trade, finance and community resilience.⁶

Urban and peri‑urban food lifelines

While most food is still produced in rural Australia, urban and peri‑urban agriculture is emerging as an important part of climate resilience strategies in cities worldwide, helping diversify supply, shorten supply chains and provide fresh food during disruptions.⁵

Climate risk assessments of food systems underline how concentrated many supply chains have become, with limited storage and few alternative routes, which makes local and regional production hubs more valuable when disasters cut off major transport corridors.⁸

Urban farming technologies such as rooftop gardens, protected cropping, vertical farms and community market gardens can help produce vegetables, herbs and some fruits closer to consumers, reducing transport exposure and, in some cases, providing more controlled growing environments under heat and rainfall extremes.⁵

Peri‑urban food bowls on the fringes of cities, if protected from urban sprawl and supported with water‑efficient infrastructure, can play a key role in buffering metropolitan areas against short‑term shocks and supporting local food hubs and markets.⁸

Building climate‑resilient food systems will also require stronger governance for land use around cities, support for community‑run food projects and better integration of urban and regional planning with national adaptation policies for agriculture and food security.⁶

References

1. Ghahramani A. et al. (2020), Land use change in Australian mixed crop–livestock systems under climate change
2. IPCC AR6 WGII, Chapter 11: Australasia (final draft chapter)
3. Farmers for Climate Action (2025), Time for Action: Climate Risk Assessment Report released
4. Meat & Livestock Australia, Wheat and sheep production in a changing climate
5. IPCC AR6 WGII, Chapter 5: Food, Fibre and Other Ecosystem Products
6. Australian Government, Dashboard – Climate risks to primary industries and food (National Climate Risk Assessment)
7. Farmers for Climate Action (2022), Impacts of climate change on our food supply
8. Climate Council, Feeding a Hungry Nation: Climate change, food and farming in Australia
9. Clayton Utz (2025), Australia’s first National Climate Risk Assessment report and National Adaptation Plan
10. Hort Innovation, Australian horticulture’s response to climate change and variability

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On the frontline twice: how climate change is deepening health, cultural and economic scars for Indigenous Australians - Lethal Heating Editor BDA

Key Points

Climate change is already harming Indigenous Australians’ health, culture and livelihoods, compounding the impacts of colonisation and systemic inequality.1 Rising heat, fires, floods and sea level rise are driving acute illness, climate distress and disruption to caring for Country.2 Damage to sacred sites, ecosystems and food and water systems threatens cultural continuity and social and emotional wellbeing.3 Structural racism, poor housing and under-resourced services increase vulnerability and limit adaptive capacity in many communities.4 Indigenous-led adaptation, including caring for Country, cultural fire management and community-controlled planning, is already strengthening resilience.5 Climate justice for Indigenous Australians means centring self-determination, cultural rights and on‑Country leadership in national climate policy.6

Across Australia Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities are warning climate change is a present reality reshaping health, culture and economic security on Country.²

From remote desert homelands to Torres Strait islands and outer suburban fringes, more frequent heatwaves, fires, floods and sea level rise are colliding with the unfinished business of colonisation and entrenched disadvantage.²

Indigenous leaders describe climate change as an extension of a long colonial process that has already severed lands, languages and kinship, and now threatens to intensify poverty, ill health and cultural loss across generations.²

Evidence shows that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are more exposed to climate hazards, more likely to live in poor housing and energy poverty, and less likely to have access to responsive health and emergency services when disaster strikes.¹

At the same time, climate damage to Country, from burnt rock art and shell middens to drying waterholes and eroding islands, is tearing at the core of identity, spirituality and social and emotional wellbeing.³

Researchers and communities report rising climate distress, grief and “homesickness while still at home” as landscapes change and cultural obligations to look after Country become harder to fulfil.⁷

Health services are already straining under new waves of heat stress, respiratory illness, food and water insecurity and infectious disease, with staff in some regions considering leaving because conditions are becoming unliveable.²

Yet Indigenous-led initiatives, from cultural fire management in Arnhem Land to climate justice advocacy and digital climate story platforms, are demonstrating powerful, place-based pathways to adaptation, resilience and emissions reduction.⁵

The policy question is whether governments will move fast enough to embed these approaches, and the rights and authority of First Peoples, at the centre of Australia’s climate response.⁶

Unequal heat, extreme weather and health risks

Climate projections show rising average temperatures across all regions of Australia, with heatwaves becoming longer and hotter, particularly in northern and inland areas where many Aboriginal communities are located.²

In Darwin, for example, the annual number of days above 35°C could reach between 52 and 265 by 2090 depending on global emissions, a shift with profound implications for remote communities, outdoor workers and people with chronic disease.²

For Indigenous Australians, existing high rates of cardiovascular and respiratory disease, overcrowded and poorly insulated housing, unreliable power and limited access to cooling make dangerous heat far harder to survive safely.¹

Researchers have warned that hotter days and nights will increase heat stress and deaths in remote areas, and that conditions of poverty and poor diet reduce people’s ability to physiologically adapt to heat over time.⁸

More intense cyclones, extreme rainfall and floods, combined with sea level rise, are threatening coastal and island communities, damaging houses, roads and clinics, and forcing traumatic evacuations such as the prolonged displacement of the Kiwirrkurra community in Western Australia after flooding.²

Black Summer bushfires and more frequent fire weather are also destroying cultural sites, worsening air pollution and contributing to respiratory and cardiovascular illness in Aboriginal communities, especially where services are already stretched.²

Physical health: heat, smoke and infectious disease

The health impacts of climate change on Indigenous Australians are already visible in rising burdens of heat-related illness, injuries in disasters, smoke-related respiratory problems and climate-sensitive infectious diseases.¹

Studies suggest that diarrhoeal disease in places such as Alice Springs could increase with even moderate temperature rises, given the relationship between hot, dry conditions, overcrowding and inadequate water and sanitation infrastructure.¹

Scoping reviews highlight growing risks from mosquito-borne diseases such as dengue, Ross River and Barmah Forest virus as warmer temperatures and changed rainfall create new breeding sites, particularly in northern and coastal regions already facing health service gaps.²

Other threats include melioidosis, leptospirosis and food-borne infections linked to flooded or contaminated water systems and unsafe food storage when power fails or supply chains break during fires and floods.²

Water insecurity is emerging as a critical pressure point, with some communities already reporting drying waterholes, concerns about aquifer recharge, and reliance on costly desalination in parts of the Torres Strait, all of which undermine safe drinking water and hygiene.²

Without rapid investment in safe housing, reliable energy, clean water and culturally safe primary care, these physical health impacts are likely to widen already unacceptable life expectancy gaps.⁴

Mental health, climate distress and social and emotional wellbeing

For many Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, health is understood holistically, encompassing body, mind, spirit, family, community and Country, so climate disruption resonates across multiple dimensions of social and emotional wellbeing.¹

First Nations psychologists and researchers describe climate change as part of a continuum of colonisation, contributing to intergenerational trauma alongside dispossession, racism and the ongoing loss of language and culture.⁹

International reviews of First Nations experiences point to heightened risks of anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress, suicide and emerging forms of “eco-grief” as people witness damage to cherished places, food systems and cultural practices.⁷

Aboriginal authors in fire- and flood‑affected regions have written about solastalgia, a sense of homesickness while still at home, as Country becomes unrecognisable due to repeated disasters and slow‑onset changes like prolonged drought.¹⁰

At the same time, research shows that caring for Country activities, including ranger programs and cultural land management, are linked with better mental health, lower levels of psychological distress and high life satisfaction, underscoring the protective power of cultural connections in a destabilising climate.⁵

Despite this, most mental health systems still rely on Western diagnostic frames that often fail to capture holistic social and emotional wellbeing, making it harder to design responses that reflect Indigenous worldviews of climate impacts.⁹

Country, culture and intergenerational knowledge

Country, encompassing land, waters, skies and more‑than‑human relatives, is central to identity, law, language and culture for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, and its “health” is inseparable from human health.¹

When ecosystems are degraded by drought, fire, erosion or coral bleaching, or when people are prevented from visiting or managing sacred places, many describe feeling that Country is “sick” and that this sickness is mirrored in their own wellbeing.¹

In New South Wales, the 2019–20 fires scorched vast areas of Aboriginal cultural value, including rock art sites, while coastal erosion is threatening shell middens and burial grounds, undermining cultural responsibilities and connections to ancestors.³

Sea level rise and storm surges in the Torres Strait are already inundating graveyards and cultural sites and prompting fears of future relocation, raising profound questions about how to maintain cultural continuity when Country itself is reshaped or submerged.²

Disruption to seasonal cycles, species distribution and access to traditional foods also threatens the transmission of intergenerational knowledge, from hunting, fishing and burning practices to ceremony and language tied to specific places and ecologies.²

These emerging and intergenerational impacts mean that children and young people are inheriting not only a hotter, more volatile climate, but also a landscape of damaged Country that complicates their ability to learn, practise and evolve culture on their own terms.⁹

Food, water, livelihoods and inequality

Climate‑driven changes in rainfall, temperature and extreme events are destabilising food and water security for many Indigenous communities, both through direct ecological impacts and through disrupted supply chains.²

In arid regions, more severe drought and dust storms degrade country used for hunting and gathering, while in northern and coastal areas, cyclones and floods can wipe out crops, contaminate water and interrupt deliveries of affordable, healthy food for months.²

As local food sources become less reliable, communities are pushed towards store‑bought foods that are often expensive and of poorer nutritional quality, worsening diet‑related disease and increasing dependence on fragile logistics systems.²

Housing that is poorly designed for extreme heat, combined with high power costs and pre‑payment meters, has created “power poverty” in some remote areas, where families must choose between electricity, food and medicines, with serious health consequences.²

At the same time, climate threats to industries such as tourism, fishing, art and land management jeopardise livelihoods and local economies, while opportunities from renewable energy projects risk bypassing communities unless governance and benefit‑sharing arrangements are designed to uphold rights and self‑determination.²

Without structural change, climate change is likely to deepen existing gaps in income, employment, housing and health outcomes between Indigenous and non‑Indigenous Australians, turning a hazard into a driver of long‑term inequality.⁴

Systems, structures and the limits of adaptation

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples’ vulnerability to climate change is not rooted in culture, it is produced by structural and systemic inequities embedded in housing, health, emergency management, energy and land governance systems.⁴

Decades of under‑investment in basic services, combined with discriminatory policies and limited recognition of cultural authority, mean many communities enter the climate crisis with fewer resources, weaker infrastructure and less influence over decisions that affect their lives.⁴

Emergency management has often been done to, rather than with, Aboriginal communities, resulting in evacuation plans that ignore cultural obligations, language needs and the historical trauma of forced removals, and in some cases leaving communities without adequate preparedness at all.²

Health systems in remote regions face chronic staff shortages, inadequate infrastructure and growing climate‑related disruptions to power, water, transport and supply chains, with surveys suggesting some clinicians already view parts of the Northern Territory as becoming uninhabitable.²

Climate policy and risk assessments have historically sidelined Indigenous knowledge and data, with major scientific processes acknowledging that they struggle to integrate Indigenous and local knowledge into their findings, despite its centrality to understanding impacts on Country.²

These systemic patterns mean that adaptation is not only a technical challenge of better levees or clinics, but a political challenge of shifting power, recognising rights and addressing racism so that First Peoples can lead climate responses for their own communities.

Indigenous-led solutions and climate justice

Across the continent, Indigenous organisations, ranger groups and community‑controlled health and legal services are advancing climate solutions grounded in Country, culture and self‑determination.⁵

Programs such as Arnhem Land Fire Abatement use cultural burning to reduce late‑season wildfires and greenhouse gas emissions, generating income through carbon markets while protecting biodiversity and cultural sites, and strengthening local governance and employment.⁵

Indigenous‑led initiatives like the Lowitja Institute’s climate and health roundtable and the National First Peoples’ Gathering on Climate bring together Elders, youth and researchers to frame climate change as both a health emergency and an opportunity for redress and empowerment.²

New projects, including Indigenous‑led digital climate story platforms and co‑designed research under the National First Peoples Platform on Climate Change, are building Indigenous data sovereignty, documenting lived experience and shaping national and international climate processes.¹¹

Climate justice advocates insist there can be no climate justice without First Nations justice, arguing that restoring rights to land and water, investing in adequate housing and energy, and embedding Indigenous decision‑making in climate governance are prerequisites for fair adaptation.²

For policymakers, that means aligning the National Adaptation Plan and risk assessments with Indigenous‑led research, funding community‑controlled climate and health programs, and supporting Indigenous‑led litigation and rights‑based strategies that hold governments and corporations to account for climate harm.¹²

Immediate, emerging and intergenerational stakes

In the short term, the most visible impacts for Indigenous Australians are escalating heatwaves, smoke and disasters that strain physical and mental health, disrupt housing and livelihoods, and damage cultural sites and infrastructure.¹

Over the medium term, compounding shocks to water, food systems, labour markets and service delivery are likely to deepen health inequities, drive internal displacement and intensify climate distress as people navigate more frequent crises and slow‑onset losses.²

Looking across generations, permanent landscape changes, sea level rise and ecosystem collapse threaten to erode languages, ceremonies and knowledge tied to specific places, unless there is sustained support for cultural adaptation, repatriation of authority and on‑Country education led by Elders and communities.³

Indigenous‑led research emphasises that climate action which centres First Peoples’ rights, knowledges and leadership can simultaneously reduce emissions, strengthen resilience and heal some of the harms of colonisation, but that delay risks locking in avoidable suffering and loss.²

The choice now facing governments is whether to continue treating Indigenous communities as vulnerable recipients of emergency response, or to recognise them as rights holders and partners whose leadership is essential to any credible national climate strategy.⁶

References

1. Disproportionate burdens: the multidimensional impacts of climate change on the health of Indigenous Australians
2. Climate Change and Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Health: Discussion Paper (Lowitja Institute)
3. Climate change impacts on our cultural values (AdaptNSW)
4. Climate change, structural inequity and Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander health
5. Caring for Country and health: Aboriginal land management for health and wellbeing
6. Climate justice and Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples
7. Indigenous mental health and climate change
8. Consequences for Indigenous Physical and Mental Health of climate change
9. Climate change, social and emotional wellbeing, and mental health for First Nations people
10. The impact of climate change on Country and community: an Aboriginal perspective on solastalgia and wellbeing
11. Indigenous-led Digital Climate Stories Platform (CSIRO)
12. Indigenous-led rights‑based approaches to climate litigation

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Canberra’s Food Security in a Warming World - Lethal Heating Editor BDA

Key Points

Canberra is not self‑sufficient in food and relies on imports for most of its supply, especially fresh produce and grains.1 Around 90% of Canberra’s leafy greens and fruit are estimated to come from the Sydney region.2 Climate change threatens food security through more frequent droughts, heatwaves, bushfires, and supply chain disruptions.3 Canberra’s food system is vulnerable because it depends heavily on long supply chains from drought‑prone regions.4 The ACT government’s local food strategy aims to boost local production and shorten supply chains to improve resilience.5 Low‑income households are most at risk of food insecurity as prices rise and supply chains become less reliable.6

Australia's Capital, Canberra, is not self‑sufficient in food and depends heavily on supplies from outside its surrounding Territory, the ACT.¹

Most of the city’s food, especially fresh produce, grains and meat, is brought in from regional NSW, Victoria, and interstate supply chains.¹

Estimates suggest that around 90% of Canberra’s leafy greens and fruit come from the Sydney region, highlighting a high reliance on distant production zones.²

Under climate change, this dependence on long, fragile supply lines increases the risk of shortages, price spikes and reduced access to fresh food.³

Extreme weather, drought, and heat stress in Australia’s key food bowls threaten the stability of the food that reaches Canberra’s supermarkets and pantries.⁴

Government strategies now aim to strengthen local food production and shorten supply chains to build resilience against climate shocks.⁵

But gaps remain in data and policy, particularly on how climate change will affect food access for low‑income and vulnerable Canberrans.⁶

Without stronger action, Canberra’s food system will remain exposed to the growing volatility of a hotter, drier climate.⁷

Is Canberra self‑sufficient in food?

Canberra is not self‑sufficient in food production and cannot feed its population from within the ACT alone.¹

Less than 5% of food consumed in the ACT is produced within the Territory, making Canberra a “food vulnerable” city in terms of local production.¹

The ACT’s rural land is used mainly for wool, beef and lamb, with only a small amount of vegetables, fruit, poultry, and eggs grown locally.¹

Most of the ACT’s food is imported from surrounding regions in NSW and Victoria, and from interstate supply chains that link to national distribution hubs.¹

Where does Canberra’s food come from?

There is no single, up‑to‑date breakdown of Canberra’s food supply by category, but available evidence points to heavy reliance on external sources.¹

For fresh produce, it is estimated that about 90% of Canberra’s leafy greens and fruit come from the Sydney region and its hinterland.²

Grains and cereals are largely sourced from the Murray–Darling Basin and other major grain‑growing regions in NSW, Victoria, and Queensland.⁴

Meat and dairy are supplied from a mix of local ACT farms, nearby NSW producers, and larger interstate processors and distributors.¹

Processed foods, packaged goods, snacks, and beverages are mostly brought in through national and international supply chains, with many items imported from overseas.⁸

Climate change and food security risks

Climate change is expected to increase the frequency and severity of droughts, heatwaves, bushfires, and floods in Australia’s key food‑producing regions.³

These extreme events can damage crops, reduce yields, kill livestock and disrupt water supplies, leading to lower production and higher food prices.³

Canberra’s heavy reliance on food from drought‑prone regions like the Murray–Darling Basin makes its supply chain especially vulnerable to climate shocks.⁴

Transport disruptions from floods, fires or extreme heat can delay or block the movement of food into Canberra, causing temporary shortages on shelves.³

As climate change progresses, the stability of food availability, access, and affordability in Canberra is likely to decline, particularly for fresh and perishable items.⁷

Government and academic analysis

The ACT government’s Canberra Region Local Food Strategy 2024–2029 explicitly recognises that Canberra is reliant on food produced elsewhere.¹

This strategy identifies food security as a key concern and aims to increase local food production, shorten supply chains and improve access to healthy, affordable food.¹

The ACT’s climate change and circular economy policies also acknowledge that food systems are vulnerable to climate impacts and need to become more resilient.¹

Academic and policy research on Australian cities notes that urban food security depends on stable regional and national supply chains, which are increasingly at risk from climate change.³

Studies have highlighted gaps in data on local food flows, the resilience of regional supply chains, and the specific impacts of climate change on food access for low‑income households.⁶

Policy gaps and proposed solutions

Current policy identifies several vulnerabilities: over‑reliance on distant food sources, limited local storage and distribution infrastructure, and weak support for small producers.¹

Proposed strategies include expanding urban agriculture, supporting local farmers’ markets, and developing a regional “food hub” to improve packaging, storage and distribution.¹

There is also a push to use public land for community gardens and urban farms, and to strengthen food rescue and redistribution networks.¹

For vulnerable households, recommendations include more stable funding for food relief services, better access to affordable, nutritious food, and targeted support during price spikes and supply disruptions.⁶

However, there is still no comprehensive, city‑wide food security plan that fully integrates climate risk, equity, and long‑term resilience.⁶

Uncertainties and research needs

Key uncertainties remain about the exact proportion of each food category (fresh produce, grains, meat, dairy, processed foods) that comes from inside versus outside the ACT.¹

There is limited data on how climate change will affect the reliability and cost of food imports into Canberra over the next 20–30 years.³

More research is needed on the resilience of regional supply chains, the capacity of local producers to scale up, and the impact of climate‑driven price rises on low‑income Canberrans.⁶

To properly assess Canberra’s food security under climate change, authorities would need detailed food flow mapping, climate risk modelling for key supply regions, and regular monitoring of food affordability and access.⁶

Without this evidence base, it will be difficult to design targeted, effective policies that ensure all Canberrans can access safe, nutritious food in a hotter, more volatile climate.⁷

References

1. ACT Government, Canberra Region Local Food Strategy 2024–2029, ACT Government, Canberra, 2024.
2. ACT Government, Draft Canberra Region Local Food Strategy – Goal 3: Production, YourSay ACT, 2023.
3. Australian Government, House of Representatives Standing Committee on Agriculture, Strengthening and safeguarding Australia’s food security, Parliament of Australia, Canberra, 2023.
4. Climate Council, Feeding a Hungry Nation: Climate change, food and Australia’s future, Climate Council, Sydney, 2015.
5. ACT Government, Canberra Region Local Food Strategy 2024–2029, ACT Government, Canberra, 2024.
6. VolunteeringACT, Food Insecurity in the Canberra Region: A Strategic Picture, February 2025.
7. Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, High Level Panel of Experts on Food Security and Nutrition – Climate Change and Food Security, FAO, Rome, 2012.
8. Australian Food and Grocery Council, Food and Grocery Industry in Australia, AFGC, Sydney, 2023.

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Climate Change's Hidden Toll: Health Crisis Grips Canberra - Lethal Heating Editor BDA

Key Points

Bushfire smoke caused 31 excess deaths and over 200 hospitalisations in ACT during 2019-20.1 Climate change projected to bring 40 days above 35°C yearly in Canberra.2 Eco-anxiety prevalent among regional Australian youth post-disasters.3 Heatwaves strain emergency departments with rising admissions.4 Outer Canberra suburbs vulnerable due to low tree cover.2 Low-income households face energy-inefficient homes in heat.5

Canberra's pristine image masks a growing health crisis fuelled by climate change.

Bushfire smoke from the 2019-20 season alone caused 31 excess deaths in the ACT, alongside over 200 hospitalisations for cardiovascular and respiratory issues.¹

Projections warn of up to 40 days above 35°C annually, with severe heatwaves reaching 44°C for 10 days, overwhelming hospitals.²

Eco-anxiety surges among youth, blending acute stress from fires and floods with chronic hopelessness about the future.³

Emergency departments see spikes in mental health presentations during extreme weather, as services strain under shorter recovery windows.⁴

Vulnerable outer suburbs like Tuggeranong lack tree cover, exacerbating risks for elderly and low-income residents in inefficient homes.²

Respiratory illnesses from smoke inhalation fill wards, while cardiovascular events rise hours after pollution peaks.⁶

Mental health burdens deepen, with climate distress hitting regional youth hardest amid repeated disasters.³

Hospitals face disaster fatigue as bushfires, heatwaves, and storms strike with less respite.

Low-income households endure unsafe heat in energy-poor dwellings, amplifying inequities.⁵

Physical Health Under Siege

The 2019-20 bushfires blanketed Canberra in hazardous smoke for weeks.

This pollution triggered 31 premature deaths in the ACT.

Over 200 excess hospital admissions followed for heart and lung problems.¹

Emergency visits for asthma reached 89 cases linked to smoke.¹

PM2.5 particles from fires enter the bloodstream, sparking inflammation.

Sudden cardiac arrests spike 8-10 hours after exposure surges.⁶

97% of surveyed Canberrans reported physical symptoms like eye irritation and coughs.¹⁴

Climate-driven longer fire seasons promise more such episodes.

Heatwaves compound risks, with rising temperatures hindering outdoor activity and exacerbating chronic conditions.⁷

Mental Health in Crisis

Eco-anxiety grips young Canberrans, manifesting as helplessness and hopelessness.

Regional youth link bushfires and floods directly to climate change, triggering acute stress.³

Disasters evoke depression over future prospects, clinicians note.

Over two-thirds of Australians aged 16-25 report climate-related distress.⁹

26% of ACT residents relived trauma during smoke events.¹¹

Extreme weather disrupts mental health services while demand soars.⁴

Youth feel dismissed by leaders, fuelling burnout among activists.¹³

Validation from professionals eases distress, yet access lags.

Healthcare Systems Overwhelmed

Hospitals in the ACT bore heavy loads from 2019-20 smoke.

Prolonged poor air quality amplified urban health burdens.⁶

Heatwaves drive mental health emergencies, presentations rising with temperature.⁴

Shrinking intervals between events breed disaster fatigue in staff.

Climate models predict inundated facilities from extreme heat alone.²

Emergency departments log more admissions during prolonged heat.¹⁷

Resource strains hinder recovery, threatening care quality.

Vulnerable Groups Exposed

Outer suburbs like West Belconnen and Tuggeranong top risk lists.

Scarce tree cover fails to buffer scorching heat.²

Elderly residents suffer most from heat exhaustion and dehydration.⁵

Low-income households crowd energy-inefficient rentals.

These dwellings trap heat, becoming hazardous in extremes.¹⁵

Socio-economic disadvantage correlates with poor cooling access.

First Nations people and renters face compounded risks.⁵

Without cars or air-conditioners, escape proves difficult.¹²

References

1. Human Effects of the 2019-20 Bushfire Season on the Community of the Australian Capital Territory
2. Outer Canberra Most Unprepared for Climate Disaster
3. Eco‐anxiety among regional Australian youth with mental health problems
4. Health professionals go to Canberra to call for action on summer of anxiety
5. Using heat refuges in heatwave emergencies
6. Bushfire smoke from 'Black Summer' killed hundreds: Inquiry
7. 6.2 ACT trends - Environment for Youth
8. Eco-anxiety affecting more than two-thirds of Australians
9. Bushfire Smoke and Air Quality Strategy 2021-2025
10. Risk factors of direct heat-related hospital admissions
11. Youth Eco-Anxiety: A Catalyst for International Action
12. Physical and Mental Health Effects of Bushfire and Smoke in the Australian Capital Territory 2019–20
13. HEAT IN HOMES
14. Impact of extreme heat on health in Australia: a scoping review

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On the front line of a warming world: how climate migration is reshaping Australia’s future - Lethal Heating Editor BDA

Key Points

Climate impacts are already driving displacement across the Pacific and within Australia, yet most people have no dedicated legal protection when they cross borders.1 Under current law, climate-displaced people rarely qualify as refugees, and instead must rely on narrow complementary protection or ad hoc migration pathways.2 The Falepili Union with Tuvalu creates an annual mobility pathway for up to 280 Tuvaluans, making it the world’s first bilateral climate mobility treaty of its kind.3 Temporary labour schemes such as the PALM program show both the potential for filling shortages in care and hospitality and the risks of migrant worker exploitation.4 Public concern about migration’s impact on housing and infrastructure is rising, with recent polling showing strong support for at least a temporary pause in intakes.5 Experts argue Australia needs a long-term, people-centred climate displacement strategy that links migration, housing, infrastructure and community support.6

Rising seas, stronger cyclones and relentless heat are already pushing people from their homes across the Pacific and within Australia, yet the law still has no clear category for those who move because of climate change.¹

From low-lying atolls like Tuvalu to bushfire-prone towns on Australia’s east coast, climate disruption now collides with long histories of inequality, fragile infrastructure and limited social safety nets.¹

Despite the scale of risk, people displaced by climate impacts seldom qualify as refugees under international law, which still centres on persecution rather than environmental collapse.²

Australia’s migration system offers some protection through human rights obligations and existing visa streams, but these options are patchy, discretionary and hard to access for the poorest and most exposed communities.²

The Australia–Tuvalu Falepili Union, which entered into force in 2024, is the first bilateral climate mobility treaty of its kind, promising an annual quota of Tuvaluans the right to live, work and study in Australia indefinitely.³

The agreement has been hailed by some as a “mobility with dignity” model that combines in‑country adaptation funding with a secure migration pathway if life at home becomes untenable.³

At home, however, anxiety about housing shortages, stretched infrastructure and record migration has hardened public opinion, with new polling showing large majorities in favour of at least pausing intake until services catch up.⁵

Labour schemes that draw Pacific workers into Australian farms, hospitality venues and care facilities promise economic opportunity, yet repeated inquiries have documented underpayment, unsafe conditions and weak enforcement of workplace rights.⁴

As climate impacts intensify, experts warn that without a coherent national framework linking visas, housing, infrastructure and community support, Australia risks managing climate mobility through crisis responses rather than long-term planning.⁶

The choices Australia makes now about who can move, under what conditions and with what support, will shape not only regional stability in the Pacific but also the social fabric of the country itself.¹

Who climate migrants are, and why they move

Climate displacement does not happen in isolation, it amplifies existing pressures such as poverty, land scarcity and political instability, rather than acting as a single trigger on its own.⁶

Recent humanitarian and policy analyses describe climate-induced movement as a spectrum that runs from temporary evacuation after disasters to permanent relocation when homes or livelihoods can no longer be sustained.¹

Within Australia, the 2019–20 “Black Summer” bushfires contributed to tens of thousands of internal displacements and left thousands facing longer-term relocation, underscoring that a rich country is not immune to climate-driven upheaval.⁷

Across the region, low-lying Pacific Island states face a mix of sudden-onset disasters like cyclones and slow-onset threats such as sea-level rise and salinisation, which steadily erode food security, freshwater supplies and habitability.¹

Most people affected by climate impacts move within their own countries, yet for small island states with limited land and resources, cross-border migration is already part of adaptation planning.⁶

Australia therefore finds itself as both a country of internal climate displacement and a likely destination for regional neighbours seeking safety and opportunity as conditions worsen at home.⁸

Law and the protection gap

International refugee law was drafted in the aftermath of war and persecution and does not recognise climate change, or environmental degradation alone, as grounds for refugee status.²

Australian case law has confirmed that applicants relying primarily on climate impacts have struggled to meet the definition of a refugee or to qualify for complementary protection unless they can show a specific risk of serious harm linked to recognised grounds such as race or politics.⁹

Scholars warn that trying to “force-fit” people displaced by climate change into the refugee category risks diluting core protections and may prove politically unworkable, even as needs grow.²

Instead, legal experts and advocacy groups have called for new instruments or guidelines that build on existing human rights law, especially the right to life and protection from cruel or degrading treatment, to prevent returns to places where climate impacts pose extreme risks.¹⁰

Australia’s domestic law already incorporates non-refoulement obligations through complementary protection provisions, but the threshold for success is high and decisions remain highly individualised rather than recognising group-based climate harms.⁹

In practice, most climate-affected people who reach Australia must rely on ordinary migration pathways, including skilled, family and humanitarian visas, that were not designed with environmental displacement in mind.¹

Falepili Union: model or one-off?

The Australia–Tuvalu Falepili Union, proposed by Tuvalu in 2023 and entering into force in 2024, has been widely described as the world’s first bilateral climate mobility treaty.³

Under the agreement, up to 280 Tuvaluans a year, around 2.5 per cent of the country’s population, will be able to move to Australia to live, work and study on an indefinite basis through a new mobility pathway.¹¹

The treaty explicitly links this migration channel to the “existential threat” climate change poses to Tuvalu, while also reaffirming the country’s ongoing statehood and the desire of its people to remain on their islands where possible.¹¹

Distinct from labour-only schemes, Falepili emphasises “mobility with dignity”, allowing circular movement so people can travel between Tuvalu and Australia without jeopardising their status, and it pairs this with long-term support for coastal adaptation projects in Tuvalu itself.³

Policy analysts suggest the agreement could serve as a template for similar arrangements with other highly vulnerable Pacific states, though any replication would need to respect different political contexts, population sizes and community preferences about staying or moving.³

Others caution that without broader reforms to Australia’s migration and humanitarian settings, Falepili risks becoming a unique exception rather than the foundation of a coherent regional climate mobility regime.⁸

Community ties and social integration

Decades of Pacific migration mean that many Tuvaluans, i-Kiribati, Fijians, Samoans and other islanders already have family in Australia, creating social networks that can support new arrivals coping with the trauma of displacement.⁸

Experience from other resettlement programs shows that when migrants can join relatives, access culturally appropriate services and participate in decisions about relocation, social integration is smoother and mental health outcomes improve.¹

Community-led organisations, including Pacific churches and diaspora groups, already play a central role in helping seasonal workers and new migrants find housing, navigate health and education systems, and maintain language and cultural traditions.⁴

Experts argue that any expanded climate mobility program should formally recognise and fund these grassroots networks, rather than relying solely on overstretched mainstream settlement services.⁶

For communities in receiving regions, early engagement, transparent information and visible investment in local infrastructure can help prevent resentment and build support for welcoming climate-affected neighbours.⁶

Designing relocation options in partnership with affected communities, rather than imposing them from Canberra, will be critical to maintaining trust in both origin and destination countries.⁶

Economic contribution, skills and exploitation

Australia already relies heavily on migrant workers in sectors facing chronic shortages, including agriculture, hospitality, aged care and disability support, where employers struggle to recruit and retain local staff.¹²

Programs such as the Pacific Australia Labour Mobility (PALM) scheme allow workers from Pacific Island countries and Timor-Leste to fill low and semi-skilled roles, often in regional areas where labour gaps are largest.⁴

Research and inquiries, however, have documented serious cases of underpayment, overcrowded housing and unsafe conditions across temporary migration programs, revealing systemic weaknesses in enforcing labour standards and protecting whistleblowers.⁴

Economic institutes have also shown that sectors like hospitality rely disproportionately on temporary migrants, especially international students and working holiday-makers, which can put downward pressure on wages when regulation is weak.¹³

Experts recommend that any climate mobility pathways be paired with robust rights, including full access to labour inspectorates, the ability to change employers without risking visas, and strong penalties for underpaying or exploiting migrant workers.⁴

Better recognition of overseas qualifications, targeted training in English and technical skills, and clear routes from temporary to permanent status would allow climate migrants to contribute at their skill level rather than being trapped in low-paid, insecure jobs.¹²

Public concerns and political headwinds

Climate mobility debates in Australia now intersect with a broader backlash against what critics call “mass migration”, fuelled by surging net arrivals and a visible housing crisis in major cities.⁵

Polling released in 2025 by a conservative thinktank found that more than 70 per cent of respondents supported temporarily pausing new immigration until housing and core infrastructure such as schools and hospitals catch up with demand.⁵

Housing system reports likewise point to persistent shortages of affordable homes and rental stress, though they emphasise that planning, tax settings and underinvestment in social housing all play significant roles alongside population growth.¹⁴

Analysts say governments will need to be candid about the scale of both climate risk and domestic constraints, explaining how targeted climate mobility can be managed in tandem with reforms to housing, infrastructure and labour rights.¹⁴

Framing agreements like Falepili as part of a broader responsibility to the Pacific, grounded in long-standing security and economic ties, may help distinguish them from general migration debates in the public mind.³

Without such clarity, climate migrants risk becoming collateral damage in wider political fights over population, borders and cost-of-living pressures.⁵

Planning for a climate‑mobile future

Humanitarian agencies and policy groups argue that Australia now needs an integrated national framework for climate displacement that spans foreign policy, migration law, housing, infrastructure and disaster planning.⁶

Such a framework would recognise that most climate-related movement will remain internal and regional, yet still prepare for increased cross-border mobility as some communities, particularly in small island states, face hard limits to adaptation.⁶

On the domestic front, this would mean aligning any future climate mobility pathways with investments in social and affordable housing, transport, health services and education in the communities likely to receive new arrivals.¹⁴

Regional planning could identify towns with declining populations or labour shortages where additional residents, backed by infrastructure funding, might help revitalise economies while relieving pressure on overheated urban housing markets.¹⁴

Internationally, Australia faces a choice between piecemeal, reactive responses to climate displacement, or helping to shape principled, rights-based frameworks that offer predictable, dignified options to move or to stay for its Pacific neighbours.¹⁰

The Falepili Union shows what is politically possible, but whether it becomes the start of a regional architecture for climate mobility or remains a one-off exception will depend on decisions made in Canberra and across the Pacific in the next few years.³

References

1. CBM Australia, “Climate-induced forced displacement”
2. UNSW Law Journal Student Series, “Protecting People Displaced by Climate Change: Why the Refugee Convention is Not the Answer”
3. Carnegie Endowment, “Australia–Tuvalu Falepili Union: The First Bilateral Climate Mobility Treaty”
4. The Australia Institute, “The PALM scheme: Labour rights for our Pacific family”
5. Institute of Public Affairs, “Poll: Opposition to out-of-control mass migration surges”
6. Act for Peace, “Climate Displacement Strategy 2025–2030”
7. Othering & Belonging Institute, “Australia Case Study – Climate Displacement”
8. Climate Refugees, “Australia – Spotlight”
9. Climate Change Litigation Database, “Refugee Application No. 1822451 (Australia)”
10. UNSW, “Expanding refugee protection for a changing climate”
11. Center for Global Development, “The Australia–Tuvalu Climate and Migration Agreement: Takeaways and Next Steps”
12. UNSW Law Journal, “Migration Pathways for Frontline Care Workers in Australia and New Zealand”
13. Grattan Institute, “Short-changed: How to stop the exploitation of migrant workers in Australia”
14. National Housing Supply and Affordability Council, “State of the Housing System 2025”

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