In 1976, a Belgian Catholic mission and hospital in what is now the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) was stricken with a mysterious illness that caused fever-like symptoms. Most of the patients who contracted the illness died. A young microbiologist named Jean-Jacques Muyembe Tamfum was called to the mission, where he extracted blood samples from those who had fallen ill. The DRC did not have a functional research laboratory at the time, so Muyembe had to send his samples to Belgium for analysis. The results that came back revealed that they contained a new deadly virus: what the world came to know as Ebola, named after a river near the mission.

My latest book—States and Nature: The Effects of Climate Change on Security (Cambridge University Press)—has been more than two decades in the making. And as I reflect on that journey, I see significant parallels between my own trajectory and the larger efforts to define and refine thinking about climate security.

Cam Ly landfill was, until it was shut down in 2020, the primary dumping ground for the city of Dalat. A hilltop locale 5 kilometers from central Dalat, the landfill was the final destination for the majority of plastic used in agriculture in Vietnam’s Central Highlands region. But in August 2019, heavy rain prompted an outpouring of trash, sending plastic sheeting from greenhouses and untreated agrichemical bags and bottles rushing downhill. The incident covered lowland farms in thousands of metric tons of waste.

I knew from a young age that I saw myself differently from the way others perceived me. Just as quickly as I noticed this difference, I also learned about the unforeseen complications of being different.

The harm that comes to the environment during armed conflict is often permanent, yet the lack of advocates to fight for its protection as they happen creates a deafening stillness. Indeed, this state of affairs has led to the environment to be seen as the “silent victim of war.” Vietnam, Kuwait, Syria, Afghanistan, Ukraine, and several more nations have been permanently damaged due to the destruction of the environment during armed conflict which can persist long after hostilities have ceased.

In an increasingly unpredictable world of pandemics, conflict, and disasters, climate change is often at the center of conversations about the instability of global affairs. From California wildfires to droughts across East Africa, the role of climate cannot be ignored in any analysis of global unpredictability. And citizens around the world know it. Growing global public support for governments to aggressively act on climate change has led to an increase in policy action on climate issues.

The Chao Phraya River is born from mountain streams in northern Thailand, flowing hundreds of kilometers south to the sea. By the time the river travels through Bangkok and empties into the Gulf of Thailand, it is carrying huge quantities of plastic waste – an estimated 4,000 metric tons every year, equal to the weight of 26 blue whales. The plastic clogs the river along its course, drastically impacting communities and the waterway’s ecology. The Third Pole traveled from the Chao Phraya’s beginnings to the sea to explore what’s happening to one of Southeast Asia’s most important rivers.

The massive floods, heat waves, raging wildfires, and devastating droughts of 2021 brought the present reality of climate change’s catastrophic impacts on people and ecosystems home to our doorsteps.