In the turquoise waters of the Andaman Archipelago live the Moken, a semi-nomadic indigenous community which for generations, has lived on their kabangs, well designed boats housing whole families, moving with the tides and following the rhythms of the ocean and the fish. Their knowledge of the sea, passed down through generations, stories and lived experiences, has shaped their way of life. They know when to fish, where to anchor, where to find sweet water and how to read the waves, winds, and weather.
An old and brocken Kabang boat at Surin Island (Photo by: Ronnakorn Potisuwan, under CC-BY 2.0)
The Neglected Power of Indigenous Expertise
Cultural heritage and indigenous expertise is widely overlooked in the debate on environmental change and sustainability. In contrary indigenous communities are often told what to do and how to adapt or to follow national adaptation plans, rules and regulations. But, the fact that those communities that have lived in and with their ecosystems for centuries and have created highly efficient socio-ecological life systems and that they know their environment much better than outsiders is often pushed aside. One interesting example is an old story which saved the Moken form one of biggest disasters that hit Thailand. In 2004, when a massive tsunami struck the region, the Moken knew how to survive. Their ancestors had passed down stories of past tsunamis—of strange, retreating tides and the signs that a great wave would soon follow. These stories, woven into the fabric of their culture, told them what to do. As the waters receded, the Moken retreated to higher ground, and their boats rode out the deadly waves. While other coastal communities suffered devastating losses, the Moken community survived.
The Colonial Legacy in Climate Adaptation
This example illustrates a larger issue that Sophie Chao and Dion Enari discuss in a paper they published in 2021. They argue that the dismissal of cultural heritage and Indigenous knowledge in climate change adaptation is not just an oversight—it is a form of ongoing colonialism. In their paper, they highlight how climate change strategies are dominated by technical, scientific fixes that often ignore or even undermine the adaptive practices and deep environmental understanding held by Indigenous communities. Chao and Enari call for a decolonisation of climate adaptation, emphasizing the need for inclusive, transdisciplinary approaches that respect and incorporate the knowledge of Indigenous peoples alongside scientific paradigms. They argue that without this, our global efforts to adapt to environmental crises will remain incomplete and, in many cases, ineffective.
The Moken’s recent history offers illustrates the colonization Chao and Enari talk about. Traditionally, the Moken lived a fluid, nomadic life, traveling on their kabangs in the waters between Thailand and Myanmar to fish, find fresh water, and sustain their families. However, in recent years, the Thai government has implemented policies, including the creation of a protected marine area, which restrict the Moken’s movement and fishing practices. Also the use of specific tree species which the Moken need to build their kabangs is nowadays prohibited. These policies have forced the Moken to settle in fixed locations on land, severing their deep relationship with the sea and their traditional ways of living. In the name of environmental protection and climate change adaptation, the government imposed a sedentary lifestyle, valuing it as more “modern” or sustainable while disregarding the Moken’s profound understanding of the ocean and their dynamic way of adapting to environmental shifts and changes. In line with Chao and Enari’s argument, this forced settlement represents more than a simple relocation—it’s a form of epistemic colonization. By enforcing regulations that ignore Indigenous ways of living and by prioritizing Western notions of environmental management, the Moken’s cultural practices and knowledge systems are being marginalized. The Moken are no longer viewed as stewards of their own environment but as subjects who must conform to state policies, often developed without their input or consideration of their experiential expertise. This not only threatens their way of life but also disregards their rich knowledge of their ecosystem—knowledge that could be vital for broader climate adaptation efforts.
But not only governments are part of the problem, also science and academic research, despite their goodwill to generate accurate knowledge and solutions, can be complicit in this ongoing colonization. The dominant scientific paradigms often come with their own blind spots, rooted in Western frameworks that prioritize technical fixes and data-driven approaches over lived, experiential knowledge. So a rethinking of science, paradigms and research practices is also important.
Multiple generations of Moken sitting together (Photo by: Harold Kuiper, under CC-BY 2.0)
No Romanticization But Mutual Learning for Suitable Climate Solutions
Of course, it would be equally problematic to romanticize Indigenous knowledge as inherently perfect or unchangeable. Just as with any knowledge system (epistemologies), it has its limitations and evolves over time. Indigenous communities, like the Moken, face challenges and adapt to new realities just as the rest of the world does. The key, however, is to foster a relationship of mutual respect and acknowledgement— a relationship on equal terms. This means recognizing that both Indigenous knowledge and scientific research bring valuable insights to the table, and neither should dominate the other. As Chao and Enari argue, decolonizing climate adaptation requires us to move beyond the hierarchical structures that place one form of knowledge above another. Instead, we should aim for a truly collaborative approach, where different perspectives and experiences are integrated in a way that benefits all and honours the diverse ways of understanding and living in the world and finding the best solutions.
Chao and Enari suggest that the next steps for climate research involve embracing “transdisciplinary” methods—bringing together knowledge from Indigenous communities, the natural sciences, and social sciences. They also point to the need for decolonizing our approach to climate solutions, breaking away from Western-centric models or blueprint solutions that often disregard Indigenous voices and expertise. The CuHeMo Project, which explores cultural heritage and climate change, will contribute to this conversation by highlighting how local communities can drive climate adaptation through cultural resilience. By recognizing the interconnectedness of human and non-human life as socio-environmental entanglements, this project tries to offer a new approach and solutions to our climate crisis, emphasizing the importance of local and experiential knowledge in global environmental strategies.
To begin this process of decolonizing climate adaptation, we must start to overcome the dominating sedentary bias that drives many current adaptation policies and acknowledge more consequentialy the adaptive power of mobilities, not just for the Moken, but for many not only Indigenous communities worldwide.
