For millennia, the people of Sulawesi were dependent on local resources, and early maritime trade seems to have been largely in luxury commodities. The importance of the Sulawesi Seas in prehistoric times is evidenced by artifacts such as fish hooks and other fishing-related items, along with the remains of vertebrate and invertebrate marine animals, found at archeological sites. The lore accumulated by indigenous peoples is often referred to as TEK (traditional ecological knowledge). The TEK of Sulawesi coastal and island peoples includes extensive knowledge on the medicinal uses of terrestrial and marine resources. In the Togean Islands, this includes sometimes sophisticated and seemingly effective use of biotic and abiotic products derived from mangrove ecosystems (Languha, personal communication, 1999 and 2017). Some of this knowledge is still extant, but for several generations there has been a waning of interest in knowledge related to ways of life considered primitive, and much TEK has been lost. There is an urgent need to collect and record what TEK remains, before it is lost.
A KAP (knowledge, attitude, and perception) questionnaire was developed by the COREMAP Coral Reef Information and Training Center (CRITC), which focused on coral reef ecosystems but has sometimes been extended to seagrass and mangrove ecosystems and/or fishing technology and target species. A number of (unpublished) KAP studies carried out between 2002 and 2015 in three areas of Central Sulawesi: the Makassar Strait coast, Tomini Bay, and Gulf of Tolo provide insights into the changes in community perception and utilization of coastal ecosystems. While awareness of ecological services is growing, traditional connections with nature are being eroded.
Introduction of Exotic Roses in the Eighteenth Century
In fact it was in the eighteenth century that the range of roses grown in Europe would suddenly increase. The development of maritime trade and European colonization as well as an increase in botanical journeys would, within a few years, find expression in the introduction into Europe of very many new species from North America and Eastern Asia.
However, one of the first novelties of the century has no connection with distant lands: more prosaically, it is the appearance of Moss roses. Their origin has been the object of a number of controversies: the paternity of this mutation of R. centifolia has been disputed by the French, and even more so by the Germans and the English. The Germans, for their part, proposed Hortus Bosianus, edited by Elias Peine in 1699. As described by Jäger this book mentions a ‘Rosa centifolia, fructu muscoso’, which was found in the garden belonging to Caspar Bose, senior member of the Council of State in Leipzig. However we do not know when or where this mutation appeared.
But two authors have studied this question in a scholarly way and their conclusions concur. They are C.C. Hurst (1922) in England and G. de La Roche (1978) in Belgium. According to them, although they do not definitively reject the German theory, the first reliable mention was in 1720. At this time Dr Boerhaave, in a second edition of the list of plants grown in the botanical garden of Leyden, mentions a ‘Rosa rubra plena, spinosissima pedunculo muscoso’, which is in fact R. × centifolia var. muscosa. Philip Miller, in his Gardner's Dictionary of 1760, moreover confirms that the first Moss rose he saw was that of Boerhaave, at Leyden, in 1727, and which may already have crossed to England in 1724, or at least did so through his care, in that same year, 1727. But even then, we do not know whether the mutation was in fact produced at Leyden or if it was an older rose which had been introduced to the town's botanical collection. (Incidentally, note that Miller, despite being very classical, is unreliable. For example, he writes that ‘the yellow rose as well as the Austrian rose both originate in America: the French brought it from Canada’ (!). Moreover, he classifies the Moss rose as a ‘Moss Rose of Provins’.)
Whatever the case, this rose remained rare for several years: it is not until the second half of the eighteenth century that it can regularly be seen in nursery catalogues. And it is not until the end of the nineteenth century that the group of Moss roses increases in importance, mainly in France.
That being so, the real novelties of the century are to be found elsewhere, with the species from North America and above all China which were introduced to Europe at that time.
In fact, the first species were few in number and their introduction never had important horticultural consequences. R. carolina L. var. plena, the ‘rosebush of Caroline with double flowers’, was introduced before 1722; after 1726 came R. palustris, the ‘Hudson rosebush’; and finally, half a century later, R. blanda Ait., the ‘Labrador rose’, was introduced. But all these roses held more interest for botanists than gardeners: none had any significant horticultural descendants. Nevertheless, they could be found in nursery catalogues: at the close of the eighteenth century, North America was both topical and fashionable.
The real innovation, in the eighteenth century, was therefore the introduction of roses from China (seeHISTORY OF ROSES IN CULTIVATION | Ancient Chinese Roses). This brought new nuances and forms, as well as cultivars more bold than the old Damasks. We are aware of the many novelties that emerge from the cultivation of roses in the nineteenth century.
The introduction of roses from China into Europe features among the most confused subjects of the history of roses. If the sources also seem contradictory, it is probably for two simple reasons (not to mention the fact that Hibiscus sinensis was at that time called ‘China rose’!). On the one hand, Chinese horticulture, which is very ancient, had produced a considerable number of varieties, certain of which were probably very close to one another and which, in the eighteenth century and later, were quite possibly confused by Europeans. On the other hand, a large number of European countries were trading with China during this period and so it was possible that there were multiple introductions of the same variety, which would give rise to the apparent contradictions. So, for a rose which is as classic as R. chinensis var. semperflorens, the English themselves, who claim to have introduced it in 1792, think that perhaps it was cultivated in Italy from the sixteenth century, as seems to be proved by a painting by the Florentine Angelo Bronzino, which dates from 1529. (Note that in the past, ‘China rose’ was also called ‘Siena rose’: was this referring to the town or the colour – although Siena is brown?)
In any case, if we refer to the most current historical accounts, the first rose introduced from China would be a certain Rosa chinensis, so named in 1768 by Nikolaus Joseph von Jacquin, director of the gardens of Schönbrunn, according to a specimen conserved since 1733, under the name of ‘Chineeshe Eglantier Roosen’ in the herbarium of the Dutch botanist Gronovius. According to this version, the first rose from China would not then have been introduced into Europe (by the Dutch?) until the beginning of the eighteenth century.
Then it was not until the end of this same century that there was the introduction of the rose that the Chinese call ‘yue yue hong’, which is to say ‘red (hong) of all the months (yue yue)’ and which we in Europe have christened R. chinensis var. semperflorens (Koehne). The story of its introduction is well known. In 1789, this rose was noticed by an agent of the English Indies Company at Calcutta; he brought it back to England in 1792 and gave it to one of the directors of the company, Gilbert Slater, and from here it gets its English name of ‘Slater's Crimson China’. The great novelty of this rose, in addition to its obvious remontance, was its colour, which is openly red, while our traditional European roses were purple and not red. (The first description was by William Curtis in the Botanical Magazine of December 1794.)
But the story of these introductions was probably much more complicated. Let us take the example of an obscure French nurseryman from Rouen, called Mustel. In 1772, he published a catalogue featuring three Chinese roses: the ‘rosebush of China’, the ‘rosebush of China which is evergreen’ and the ‘rampant rosebush of China’. The ‘rosebush of China’ was probably R. chinensis. But what about the ‘rosebush of China which is evergreen’? This could not be R. chinensis var. semperflorens since, at least according to English sources, it was not introduced until 20 years later. (Anyway, ‘evergreen’ would be the translation of sempervirens, not semperflorens.)
Another introduction from China in the eighteenth century was the ancient horticultural variety that the Chinese call ‘yue yue fen’ and that the English rechristened ‘Old Blush’ or ‘Parsons' Pink China’. As ever, the circumstances of its introduction are obscure. Perhaps it arrived in The Netherlands in the mid eighteenth century, or at least, from the Fa Ti nurseries, near Canton, to the botanic garden of Harlem in 1781. It would be from there that Joseph Banks, Director of Kew Gardens, would have introduced it into England in 1789. It has also been written that perhaps it would have been sent from Canton to England by George Staunton who accompanied the Englishman Macartney's mission to China. Its name derives from being grown in the garden of a certain Parsons, at Rickmansworth, in 1793, and it is from this date that the English nurseries of Colville began to multiply it. (This is according to the unlikely hypothesis proposed in an introduction by Staunton. Since the mission left England in 1792, it is implausible that this rose could have been cultivated and multiplied there from 1793.) It is a very fertile variety, easily reproduced by propagation, which in the nineteenth century played a prominent role in obtaining new roses, notably in France.
Among these Chinese introductions at the very end of the eighteenth century, we must also mention, around 1793–4, R. bracteata Wendl., the ‘Macartney rose’, introduced at the time of Macartney's mission to China. But this rose has few horticultural descendants.
Growing Focus on the Maritime Geopolitical Economy: Development of Ports and the Shipping Sector in the Indian Ocean Rim
As far as the issues of international geopolitical economy are concerned, the IOR clearly appears to be multipolar. The geopolitical economy of this region is essentially characterized by a very large disparity among national economies, the significance of natural resources, and the weakness of intraregional trade. The regional economic powers are India, Australia, Indonesia, Singapore, Thailand, Malaysia, Saudi Arabia, South Africa, and Iran. Together, these nine countries represent 72.9% of the total regional gross national product (GNP) and 78.0% of regional exports. The economic geography of the region is dominated by oil production in the Persian Gulf and the related maritime oil fluxes; the industrial production of the Southeast Asian tigers that is intended to serve world markets; important commercial and financial crossroads such as Singapore; the mineral resources of Southern Africa, Australia (especially uranium), and Indonesia (oil and gas included); the diversified economy of India and the size of its national market; as well as a great variety and the large volume of tropical products exported to the developed countries of the North.
The increasing importance of the Indian Ocean as a global maritime trade facilitator is reinforced by the fact that the bulk of the world’s shipping passes through the region. Against the backdrop of trade liberalization, and as a result of the export–import orientation of many trading countries and their energy imports, maritime trade passing through the ocean has dramatically increased. The Indian Ocean provides maritime advantages to several of its littoral states in terms of their strategic location along the Ocean.
The overall growth in global trade has further heightened the importance of this vital ocean – with its strategic waterways and links with major maritime trade routes – in linking the trade of countries and economic regions. The tremendous growth of ports and the shipping sector in the IOR is a testimony to the regional and global trade explosion. Several maritime infrastructures such as ports and shipping facilities have been built and upgraded along the Indian Ocean rim. A number of important harbors and seaports dotted along the Region’s shores, stretching from Durban in South Africa to Melbourne in Australia, are critical trade facilitators to the economies of the respective countries and to the IOR.
With an increasing number of Indian Ocean countries engaging in international trade with distant neighbors, increasing volume of the world goods will be transported via the Ocean. In fact, trade volumes have already been increasing steadily in the IOR. Over US$100 billion of China’s trade alone passes through the Indian Ocean annually, and this figure is projected to grow rapidly. Bilateral trade between China and India, two of the world’s emerging economic powerhouses, stood at US$13 billion in 2004, representing 1% of China’s global trade and 9% of India’s. There has also been a significant rise in trade volumes moving between post-apartheid South Africa and other Indian Ocean states such as India, Malaysia, Singapore, and Australia, and there is substantial potential for future growth. Following the far-reaching changes in South Africa’s economic, social, and political policies, the country is poised to become a powerful engine for growth among countries in sub-Saharan Africa and the island states along the traditional Cape route.
India’s emergence as an economic power, with a population of more than a billion, provides another tremendous opportunity for further economic and trade growth in the IOR. It is expected that these developments will have tremendous spillover effects on the growth of the maritime sector across the IOR to support trade expansion. Regional initiatives such as the formation of Association of Shipping and Port Authorities in the Indian Ocean by the Indian Ocean Marine Affairs Cooperation (IOMAC) will further boost efforts to promote port and shipping development in the region.
The demand for new ships, as a result of booming global trade and mandatory phasing out of ageing tankers by the International Maritime Organization (IMO), has resulted in a huge number of building orders. The crisis and collapse of European shipyards and the cost competitiveness of Asian shipyards have resulted in a dramatic shift of the shipbuilding industry from the West to East. This has had a positive effect in the development of shipping in the IOR, to a certain extent. Although the shipbuilding industry is dominated by yards from the ‘big three’ shipbuilding giants of Asia – China, Japan, and South Korea – several Indian Ocean states have also got into the act. The combined share of the world’s orders from yards in India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh stood at nearly 4% in 2004. India has taken a cue from China to embark on a major shipbuilding program by promoting new shipyards and upgrading existing ones.
Looking ahead, much enhanced investment in port facilities and upgrading shipping infrastructure in the IOR would significantly boost regional trade. The projected upward trend in cargo traffic worldwide will require massive investments for developing and improving port and shipping facilities in the region to cope with the growth. Trading states in the Indian Ocean rim will be compelled to upgrade their national lines to meet increasing demand for shipping services and to capitalize on container traffic growth. A more modern maritime sector would provide a catalyst to higher trade volume and brighter economic prospects for many Indian Ocean countries, which are economically dependent on the Ocean.
Following the excavation of the Yassi Adav wreck, members of Bass’ team then conducted the extensive excavation of a fourth century bc wreck near Kyrenia in Cyprus directed by Michael Katzev. This effort mirrored the Yassi Adav project and resulted in the raising and conservation of the ship's preserved hull structure.
Since these early pioneering efforts, numerous maritime archaeology programs have emerged around the world. Off Western Europe and in the Mediterranean maritime archaeology remains a strong focus of activities. Bass and his Institute for Nautical Archaeology (Texas A&M University in College Station, Texas) continue to carry out a growing number of underwater research projects off the southern coast of Turkey centered at their research facility in Bodrum.
His excavation of the late Bronze Age Ulu Burun wreck off the southern Turkish coast led to the recovery of thousands of artifacts that provided valuable insight in a period of time marked by the reign of Egypt's Tutankhamun and the fall of Troy. His Byzantine ‘Glass Wreck’ found north of the island of Rhodes and dating from the twelfth to thirteenth century ad, continues to generate important information about this particular period of maritime trade.
In addition to the well-known work with the Wasa, Swedish archaeologists have conducted excellent work in the worm-free waters of the Baltic. In Holland, Dutch archaeologists have drained large sections of shallow water areas which contain a rich history of maritime trade dating from the twelfth to nineteenth centuries.
Another major program directed by Margaret Rule took place in England with the recovery and preservation of the Mary Rose, a large warship lost in July 1545 during the reign of King Henry VIII. From this project, a great deal was learned about the long-term preservation of wooden timbers which is being incorporated in other similar conservation programs.
Research efforts in America span the length of its human habitation. Recent archaeological research suggests that humans arrived in North America more than 12 000 years ago when a southern route was first thought to have opened in the glacial icesheet covering the continent. Some scientists now suggest that early humans may have circumvented this barrier by way of water or overland surfaces now submerged on the continental shelf. New research programs are now being designed to work on the continental shelf looking for early evidence of Paleoindian settlements.
For years Indian canoes, rafts, dugouts, and reed boats have been discovered in freshwater lakes, and sinkholes in the limestone terrains of North and Central America have attracted researchers for many years in search of human sacrifices and other religious artifacts associated with native American cultures.
Ships associated with early explorers, including Columbus, French explorer Rene La Salle, the British, and countless Spanish explorers, have been the focus of research efforts in the Gulf of Mexico, the Northwest Passage, and the Caribbean while shipwrecks from the Revolutionary War and War of 1812 have been discovered in the Great Lakes and Lake Champlain. Warships associated with the American Civil War have received renewed interest including the Monitor lost off Cape Hatteras, the submarine Huntley and numerous other recent finds in the coastal waters of the US east coast.
Within the last two decades, deep water search systems developed by the oceanographic community have been used to successfully locate the remains of the RMS Titanic, the German Battleship Bismarck, fourteen warships lost during the Battle of Guadalcanal, and the US aircraft carrier Yorktown lost during the Battle of Midway.
Ships associated with World War II have been carefully documented including the Arizona in Pearl Harbor and numerous ships sunk during nuclear bomb testing in the atolls of the Pacific. Maritime archaeology is not limited to European or American investigators. A large number of underwater sites too numerous to mention have been investigated off the coasts of Africa, the Philippines, the Persian Gulf, South America, China, Japan, and elsewhere around the world as this young field begins to experience an explosive growth.
Stretching along the southern Gulf of Mexico and Mexican Caribbean for over a thousand kilometers is a remarkable coastal system characterized by high freshwater input, extensive wetlands and coastal lagoons, productive fisheries, and human settlements whose economy is based on the rich natural resources of the area and maritime trade (Fig. 1). The first civilization of Mesoamerica, the Olmecs with the earliest ceremonial center at La Venta, developed in this area and important settlements of the Mayan civilization occurred throughout the region. This zone includes the Alvarado, Coatzacoalcos, and Grijalva-Usumacinta (the second largest riverine input to the Gulf after the Mississippi) Rivers, the large delta of the Grijalva-Usumacinta and the ground water discharge region of the Yucatan Peninsula with coastal lagoons and extensive mangrove forests and beds of submerged aquatic vegetation. Transitional between these two areas is Laguna de Terminos, one of the largest coastal ecosystems in Latin America.
Fig. 1. Map of the southern Gulf of Mexico and Yucatan Peninsula (insert). The southern Gulf has high riverine and groundwater discharge, abundant wetlands, and lagoons. The largest River is the Grijalva-Usumacinta and the largest lagoon is Laguna de Terminos.
In this chapter, we describe this rich and varied regional system and consider the prospects for its future sustainability in the face of human impacts and substantial global change. Laguna de Terminos, the largest lagoon with extensive mangroves and sea grasses, spans the transition between terrigenous and carbonate provinces. This is one of the best studied tropical coastal systems in the Americas.
Because of its tropical location, this region has moderate seasonal pulses of temperature and light but strong seasonal pulses of precipitation, both river and ground water discharge, and the impacts of a cool season of frontal storms (the nortes). The area also has strong near-permanent physical gradients of salinity and a high diversity of estuarine habitats. There are three “seasons” in this region. From June to September-October is the rainy season with frequent afternoon and evening convectional showers associated with the intertropical convergence zone, and occasional hurricanes. From October to March is the period of nortes or winter frontal storms. February to May is the dry season when the intertropical convergence zone is south of the equator. During nortes, winds are generally from the northwest with speeds often higher than 8 m s− 1. For most of the rest of the year, there is a sea breeze system that is affected by the trades, with predominantly easterly winds with velocities between 4 and 6 m s− 1.
With some exceptions, the literature is almost unanimous in acknowledging that the risk denotes the probability of damages related to the presence of at least one hazard and exposed elements, whose unequal vulnerability is today related to the concept of issues at stake [BLA 94, PIG 05, BIR06, D’ER 09, DAU 13]. Disaster risk corresponds to the anticipation of damage with a comparatively higher intensity, as we have seen above. The websites available in 2015 on this question simply address a part of the bibliography, which is very voluminous. Take, for example, the Virtual University of Environment and Sustainable Development (in the original French: l’Université Virtuelle Environnement & Développement durable or UVED), an academic site which represents a group of online courses and gathers the contributions of 80 authors, on risks and themes related to management of the environment. Here, we read in a very standard manner that:
“The usual definition given for natural risk is the following:
(Risk) = (Hazard) x (Issue at stake)”2
Hazard denotes an “event or process”. According to the UN, a hazard is “a potentially damaging physical event, phenomenon and/or human activity which may cause the loss of life or injury, property damage” (UNISDR, quoted in Birkmann [BIR 06, p. 15]). The hazard also allows the definition of a frequency, which is a connection between a temporal period and the number of events that occurred during this period. This possibility justifies the use of statistics and probabilities that establish the concept of risk. Indeed, according to the National Center for Textual and Lexical Resources (in the original French: Centre National de Ressources Textuelles et Lexicales or CNTRL) site, the Italian etymology of the concept “risco” refers to marine risks, engaging the maritime trade3. It also refers to the possibility of running risks and even taking precautions against them. The risk is quantifiable and can be partly anticipated. Here, maritime insurance finds one of its foundations. A low-frequency event and even one with a high intensity of damage can be covered by insurance thanks to the mutualization of losses, the compensation of the insurance premium to be paid. A ship involved in trade activities matches this definition.
Risks can be run, and some even benefit from this. Risk is a financial and insurance-related concept, which lends itself to forms of quantification that are closely linked to several types of capitalisms, as well as to the functioning of metropolises. Indeed, as mentioned supra, the risk also supposes the most possible freedom and autonomy in making decisions, as well as in accordance with contracts made [PEY 95, GUE 14b]. But, is this still an approach to risk based on the hazard? The latter is far from enough to account for risk on its own. We can even ask why it is ranked first. An event without possible loss has no meaning here, and that which can be lost necessarily preexists the hazard.
Hence, the issue at stake, the other component of the definition that the UVED site provides, and that it presents are as follows: “The issues at stake and vulnerability are tied to human presence (persons, habitations, economic activities, infrastructure, etc.) and are difficult to define”. This is actually the case: hundreds of theses and entire works of summaries have not so far been able to provide a definition that achieves a real consensus. According to Birkmann [BIR 06, p. 12], vulnerability denotes “an intrinsic predisposition to be affected to or to be susceptible to damage” even if “The different definitions or approaches show it is not clear just what ‘vulnerability’ stands for a scientific concept” [BIR 06, p. 11]. The concept of issues at stake has been redeveloped in the French-language research, in particular by D’Ercole and Metzger [DER 09a]. They maintain that “we can simply say that risk is the possibility of losing that to which we give importance. Yet ‘what can be lost’ has no conceptual status in the ‘hazard x vulnerability paradigm’. The challenge is therefore to provide coherence that is both conceptual and operational to the concept of risk. It is also to consider ‘what can be lost,’ that is to say the issue at stake, as an autonomous object in the problems of risks, to separate it from hazard and vulnerability that structure the concept of risk to dissociate clearly what can be lost (the issues at stake) from that which can cause their loss (vulnerability)”.
As we can see, this position has only been partially adopted by the UVED in the definition of risk that the site provides. This is not surprising. We suggest that the reader consult Birkmann’s [BIR 06] summary on the question of vulnerability. It reproduces the multiple efforts at definition. The main question is really to understand why it seems utopian to be able to reach a consensus on such a fundamental question in view of the related issues, as much ethical ones as economic ones. If there is no consensus on defining such a fundamental concept, can we expect more from databases that are necessarily structured according to the varied interpretations of the essentials?
Certain components of the definitions of risk that are now traditional, such as exposure, are not considered by the UVED site. According to Birkmann [BIR 06, p. 23], exposure concerns the “structures, populations and economy” susceptible to being affected by a hazard, while “vulnerability has a physical, social, economic and environmental dimension”. According to Shi and Kasperson [SHI 14, p. 3], “exposures mainly include social and economic elements”. We see therefore that the definitions of risk vary according to the authors.
Moreover, it should be noted that the UVED site distinguishes, in a very conventional way, between natural and technological risk. It defines the latter this way:
“The engineer characterizes risk as an entity with two dimensions:
(Risk) = (Probability) x (Gravity)”
It is nevertheless clear that the structure of the definition is very close to that which involves “natural risks”. The two definitions overlap fundamentally. Here, we find the hazard linked with probability and also vulnerability/issues at stake with gravity. Further proof is provided by a reference to the work of Farmer. The UVED site acknowledges that this work can also include the risks known as “natural risks”: “Risk is therefore considered to be a measure of the dangerous situation that results from the confrontation of the hazard and the issues at stake. This measure is often expressed in terms of gravity and probability and, such as for technological risk, can be represented in Farmer’s diagram”.
Indeed, we can read here the work of this engineer (Farmer) who has worked in the nuclear field, and confirmed that this reading is equally possible in the field of “natural risks”. Here, we also find the inverse relationship between frequency (hazards, events) and the intensity of the damage ([PIG 10], Figure 1.2]). It is therefore very surprising to note once again [PIG 94] that the separation between the types of risks and of disasters, whose pertinence we can question, continues to be practiced in the research. It contributes to obscuring the possible definitions of the concept of risk.
This marked reticence is more strongly calling into question the categorization of risks and disasters into types, highlighting another surprising bias. Indeed, referring to the insurance or engineering origins of the concept of risk should draw attention to the place that the definitions devote to the human capacity for action. On principle, an insurer seeks to limit the losses for its own activities (and also for the insured, etc.) by favoring prevention policies. This is even more the case for an engineer who seeks to prevent the damage at least in connection with the work that he conceives and constructs. Yet, it can be seen that the traditional definitions, even revised to include the concept of issues at stake, always place human societies in a position of passive subject. The concept of vulnerability, along with the famous “natural hazards”, draw attention to an interpretation that is not very coherent with what any observer can remark, not only a priori by a simple effort at reflection, but also a posteriori, by going into the field.
Do not think that these elements are linked to an outmoded representation of that question that defining risk poses today. Indeed, the Bureau of Geological and Mining Research (BGMR)4 site demonstrates a very instructive comparison between the definition of risk that is present and the illustration offered. On the drawing of the assumed cliff, we can now only see a single component of the definition of hazard (here, just the reference to falling rocks). A photograph accompanies the sketch (Figure 3.3). Vulnerability appears clearly in this photograph, with the road, and, implicitly, the issues at stake, by the width of the road. The latter is assumed to be in line with the traffic and its importance as much economic and social as political. However, there is a major element missing here, and whose absence is all the more surprising considering that the BGMR is also a world of engineers: corrective works. They appear minimally in the photograph that the BGMR presents, with the protective wall. Illustrations of the definition bring to light the deficiencies, by lack of coherence. An essential component is absent from the definition of risk that BGMR offers, which is related to corrective works, and to what they achieve, at least in part.
Figure 3.3. Representations of the concept of risk on the BRGM website (2015). http://www.brgm.fr/sites/default/brgm/Reunion_kitpedago/fichier/fiche/Fiches_Risques.pdf
Indeed, corrective works make visible a portion of the policies seeking to prevent damage and disasters. These works are sometimes even discreetly present on any simple panel displaying risk: here, we provide an example, located in Hong Kong (Figure 3.4). Moreover, during field studies, you would have to be very near-sighted not to see the corrective works today. We add that the land-use policies associated with disaster prevention are displayed and visible as well, while they are still very seldom included in the usual definitions of risks.
Figure 3.4. An example of the display of disaster prevention policies and their limits. Hong-Kong, Victoria Island, August 2011. The limits of the retaining walls are mentioned on the sign with the notice “Retaining wall pending upgrading works”: the corrective/protective works are being improved.
Photo: P. Pigeon
This absence or quasi-absence reappears on the National Observatory of Natural Risks (in the original French: l’Observatoire national des risques naturels or ONRN) site, among others. Indeed, the site is linked to the desire to assess the policies that France has had in place with regard to disaster prevention since 1982. However, here again, the definition of risk that the ONRN provides addresses only the hazard/vulnerability binomial. Both the definition and its justification do not take prevention policies into account. They nevertheless make up the institution’s raison d’être. We return to the inventory of the so-called “natural” hazards, which we assume makes it possible to define risks and disasters (Figure 3.5), as if the insurers were themselves censored by their own definition of risk.
Figure 3.5. The definition of risk according to ONRN and its declension on its official site (ONRN, 2015) Qu’est qu’un risque naturel? = What is a natural risk; Avalanche = avalanche; cyclone = cyclone; eruption volcanique = volcanic eruption
However, part of the research recognizes this shortcoming. Certain European programs are beginning to integrate “coping capacities” into the basic definition of risks, as Figure 3.6 shows using an extract from Kuhlicke and Steinführer [KUH 10]). This is still not a common inclusion. For example, Shi and Kasperson [SHI 14, p. 4], in their monumental atlas on risks in China, establish that: “disaster losses and damages are consequences of the interactions of hazards (H), exposures (S) and the environment system (E) in which disasters occur”. As we can see, the system’s environment is too imprecise to be able to explicitly address the surprisingly small place that prevention policies occupy in the definition of disaster risk today. The very visible, and even more and more visible, remains almost invisible in the fundamental definitions of risk that we use today. This point was emphasized in Pigeon [PIG 91], and it remains relevant.
Figure 3.6. “Examples of graphical and numerical representations of (social) capacity in natural hazards research”. A basic definition of risk in Kuhlicke and Steinfuhrer [KUH 10, p. 14]
In view of the preceding, the conceptual models which we use today in the field of disaster risk reduction must also have numerous limits. These models are nevertheless the ones that are supposed to provide the most logical and coherent possible sense to the definitions and methods used in the dual field of understanding and preventing disasters. Deficiencies like these make it easier to understand why we lose much more when we have never tried so hard to prevent disasters. However, the principal question becomes even more obvious: why does this obvious lack, which has been identified, continue? Even though, as we have seen, disaster prevention policies contribute to effectively preventing certain disasters despite their limits.
Coastal systems are highly productive with great ecological, social, and economic value and the present book reaffirms this paradigm. They are also most threatened by human activities and climate change. This is especially the case for deltas, which are the most productive and economically important global ecosystems, associated with some of the largest coastal marine fisheries and the majority of global coastal wetlands. They are often regions of intense economic activities including agriculture, navigation and trade, fisheries, forestry, fossil energy production, and manufacturing. Because of the ecological richness, deltas support the highest values of ecosystem goods and services (EGS) in the world (Day et al., 1997, 2007a,b; Costanza et al., 1997; Batker et al., 2014; Kuenzer and Renaud, 2012; Vörösmarty et al., 2009; Syvitski et al., 2009; Chen and Saito, 2011). Many large cities are located in or adjacent to deltas such as Yangtze, Ganges, Yellow, Mekong, Rhine, Nile, and Mississippi, and they are important sites for maritime trade (e.g., Blackburn et al., 2019). One in fourteen people globally live in and around deltas. As demonstrated in many chapters of this book, deltas have been tremendously altered by human activities (Syvitski et al., 2009; Vörösmarty et al., 2009, Renaud et al., 2013; Day et al., 2016) and are more sensitive to global climate change than most other coastal systems due to large areas of near sea level wetlands and often high rates of subsidence (Day and Rybczyk, 2019).
In this chapter, we synthesize information presented on deltas in this book and elsewhere and discuss how individual deltas will fare given the given global megatrends of the 21st century. In doing so, we use the conceptual framework developed by Day et al. (2016) to define deltaic sustainability and to ask “which deltas will be winners and which will be losers?”
Deltas worldwide are becoming highly stressed and degraded systems (Day et al., 2007a,b, 2014, 2016; Syvitski et al., 2009; Vörösmarty et al., 2009; Renaud et al., 2013; Giosan et al., 2014; Tessler et al., 2015; Ibañez, 2015). Most medium and large deltas face a reduction in area due to reduced sediment input and sea-level rise (Giosan et al., 2014). Large areas in deltas have been “reclaimed” for agriculture, aquaculture, urban growth, and industry (Kuenzer et al., 2014). Deltas often receive high levels of pollutants (Chen et al., 2010a,b), as is the case of excessive nitrogen levels (Rabalais and Turner, 2001). Deltas are highly vulnerable to sea-level rise because of their low relief combined with high rates of natural subsidence, often exacerbated by peat oxidation and extraction of subsurface ground water, natural gas, and petroleum (Sestini, 1992; Morton et al., 2005; Chen et al., 2008; Day et al., 2011b; Wang et al., 2012; Kuenzer et al., 2014; Higgins et al., 2013, 2014; Ibañez, 2015). Both climate change and growing energy costs will limit options for sustainable management and flood protection because many restoration approaches are energy intensive and climate change will make restoration more challenging (Day et al., 2005, 2007a,b, 2014, 2016; Giosan et al., 2014; Tessler et al., 2015; Day and Rybczyk, 2019).
Land uses in coastal Bangladesh have undergone many changes in the past several centuries. The coastal region has been the center of development and economic activity for hundreds of years. Modern expansion of these activities, the main forces behind recent land use changes in the coastal region, began in the early 1960s and intensified in the 1970s. Chittagong and surrounding areas in the eastern coastal zone is famous as a center of economic activity because of the Chittagong port. The port's location and its natural harbor made it an important center of trade and business even as far back as the ninth century AD when Arab merchants found it a lucrative center for commerce and business. By the beginning of the 15th century, the port was an important trading center. In the 16th century, Portuguese sailors took great interest in the area around Chittagong (ASB, 2004).
Chittagong port was established at its present location in 1887. As a major seaport of Bangladesh, it provides a major gateway for the country's trade with the outside world. From 2012 to 2013, Chittagong Port handled more than 43.37 million metric tons of cargo, which is about 92% of the total maritime trade of Bangladesh. The growth in the GDP of Bangladesh economy is around 6–7%, but container traffic growth through Chittagong Port is about 14%, double the GDP rate. To meet the challenges of globalization and the liberalization of world trade and economy, Chittagong Port has undertaken many ambitious projects to enhance its capacity, improve efficiency, and quality of services, and develop adequate facilities to become a world class regional port (CPA News, 2016). The improvement and modernization of the port led to the rapid growth of the Chittagong city, which is now the second largest city of Bangladesh.
The southwestern coastal zone, particularly the Khulna region, was an agrarian frontier, dividing forest from agriculture for several centuries after AD 1200. Land reclamation and human settlement were encouraged in this region by Islamic religious leaders during the Bengal Sultanate period (1204–1575). During the Mughal period (1565–1717), state intervention and development in this region increased (ASB, 2004). Since the 17th century, local landlords have constructed small dykes and embankments around individual plots of land to limit saline water overflow and prevent crop damage. This traditional construction of embankments using local efforts almost ceased in 1947 when the British India broke into two independent countries and Bangladesh became part of Pakistan. Land use before independence was dominated by rice cultivation, especially locally adapted low-yielding rice varieties. In very limited areas of southwest, traditional shrimp cultivation was practiced (Mukerjee, 1938).
As noted in the previous chapters, the coastal area saw efforts at large-scale development in the 1950s and 1960s; construction of polders and cross-dams, as well as mangrove plantations and social forests. The primary purpose of empolderment was to increase agricultural production in the coastal region. Using cross-dams to form new land was also attempted in the central coastal zone from 1957 to 1965 (Islam, 2006 and 2004). During this time, the World Bank supported the establishment of mangrove plantations in the newly accreted land. This is an attempt to protect the hinterland from cyclones and storm surges. Dominant land use during the 1960s was cultivation of local varieties of rice. In the 1970s, new high yielding varieties (HIVs) of rice were introduced in the coastal region. Other uses of land remained the same: salt farming, mangrove forest, and traditional shrimp farming (Islam, 2005).
After Bangladesh became independent in 1971, rapid population growth occurred in the coastal region, and the consequence was intensified agricultural land use. Establishing mangrove plantations in the newly accreted land continued. To increase food production, HIV crop varieties saw cultivation, and large-scale polderization continued to protect the agricultural land from the intrusion of saline water. However, many polders in the southwest coastal zone were turned into large shrimp culture ghers (ponds), so saline water was deliberately allowed to enter the polders. During 1990s, however, this zone started to see massive drainage congestion and water logging because of heavy siltation outside the polders, unplanned construction of roads and other infrastructure, changes in land use pattern, and expansion of shrimp cultivation (Islam, 2005).
This evidence all suggest that land use in coastal Bangladesh is changing over time. This trend likely will continue. The key changes are: (1) reduction of cultivable land, (2) intensification of agricultural land use, (3) conversion of agricultural land to settlement and infrastructure, (4) conversion of forest land to aquaculture and settlement, and (5) conversion of cropland to aquaculture.
Rostock is a medium-sized city in the north of Germany, located on the Baltic Sea coast. The city, with around 200,000 inhabitants, covers an area of around 200 km2. The urban region includes a further 50,000 or so inhabitants, who live in 22 neighboring smaller local communities and towns. In German planning terms, this urban region, covering more than 540 km2, makes up an urban-suburban area characterized by functional interlinkages (SUR, 2011). According to subnational planning law, this area has to be considered together, and a common frame for land-use development must be devised. The current version of this common frame was adopted in 2011 (SUR, 2011). Demographic data suggests that the urban population decreased by around 20% between 1991 and 2008. At the same time, people moved to the suburbs, resulting in increased planning activities there. Planners are currently observing a return movement to the inner city. The urban population is ageing, with an increasing proportion of inhabitants over the age of 65. The core city dates back to the 13th century, and has been a hub for maritime trade ever since. Now, it is also a popular tourist destination.
Whilst the city is economically dependent on its coastal location, the same beneficial aspect harbors the risk of potential undesired climate change impacts following a rise in sea level and an increase in storm surges. Both the frequency and intensity of extreme events, such as storms, storm surges, and heavy precipitation events are expected to increase. Annual rainfall is expected to increase by approximately 8%, featuring increasingly dry summers and more humid winters (Richter et al., 2013). Average temperatures are expected to increase by 2.1–4.8°C by the end of the 21st century, with more hot days in summer and fewer frosty days in winter (Krämer et al., 2012). Already now, an explicit urban heat island effect can be observed in the city core (Richter et al., 2013). Several extreme weather events have hit this urban region in the past, including downtown flooding due to heavy rainfall and a severe storm that also hit the hinterland.
Land-use planning in Germany is organized around a general regional plan, which is binding for other, especially local planning authorities. However, municipalities are self-governing bodies that have the right to govern their own affairs, provided that they remain within the limits set by law. Developing local land-use plans is a mandatory task stipulated by law. Municipalities develop a general preparatory land-use plan for their whole territory and then further plans for specific smaller areas; the latter are legally binding for everyone. Since the national Land-Use-Planning Act was amended in 2009, climate change adaptation is a duty to be taken into account within new land-use plans, but no concrete goals were defined.
The city of Rostock is very active in promoting itself as a host for renewable energy, also aiming to achieve an energy turnaround. As early as 2005, a framework concept on climate change mitigation was developed by the urban administration, and an updated version was adopted by the City Council in 2010. This topic is very prominent in local politics and also appears in general land-use planning. It was therefore astonishing that the impacts of climate change and adaptation were of no specific local or regional interest in 2009, when the research commenced. The topics were mentioned only briefly in the regional plan (adopted 2011) and the urban preparatory land-use plan (2009). Due to the long-lasting procedures until a land-use plan is finally adopted, we must note here that the plans were already developed years before and also before and during the amendment of the Land-Use Planning Act and the rising political awareness toward adaptation. No general strategy for tackling potential climate change impacts was developed by land-use planning. Nevertheless, a number of measures could serve as unintended adaptation measures, such as keeping areas free from development (Albers et al., 2013, p. 17).
In contrast to the topic of the energy turnaround, the topics of climate change impacts and how to tackle them were neither perceived by the public nor debated at local and regional levels. The regional newspaper mainly reported about a subnational vulnerability assessment for the whole federal state of Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania, which dates back to 2007 and had no further implications for land-use planning.
Two research projects on climate change impacts and adaptation were conducted in the region, triggering further action. One project (the author was involved) initiated an intense collaborative science-practice dialogue on the topic of climate change impacts and future land-use development in the urban region of Rostock up to 2050 (for details, see Hagemeier-Klose et al., 2013). This process involved a discussion of future potential impacts of climate change on land-use development in the urban region; an assessment of further drivers of land-use change; the creation of different scenarios of future land-use development; and the development of strategies and measures for tackling these change processes. The main results were integrated in a framework concept of adaptation to climate change, drawn up by the urban administration's Department of the Environment in collaboration with scientists. This document, adopted by the City Parliament in October 2012, was intended to initiate a further strategy-building process for tackling the potential impacts of climate change.