I would like to thank participants in the Translational and Narrative Epistemologies workshop organized by the Bodies in Translation Research Project (University of Oslo) in collaboration with the Genealogies of Knowledge Research Network, which took place in September 2023. I also thank staff and students at the Centre for Translation and Cultural Studies, Dublin City University, the School of Translation and Interpretation, University of Ottawa, and the Cultural Identity and Memory Studies Institute, University of St Andrews for their feedback on presentations based on this contribution. And finally, my thanks go to the referees and the editors of this volume for their meticulous comments and editing.

As one of the most global of conversations in history, climate crisis1 discourse is intrinsically dependent on and intertwined with translation. I begin with an overview of this relationship, before shedding some light on the workings of climate crisis discourse through the lens of translation. My main argument, which I elaborate in some detail in the following sections, is that a renewed focus on interlingual translation—as well as on linguistic and cultural specificities based on locality2—may provide important insights into some of the issues currently faced by climate scientists attempting to address the global climate crisis.

Translation is used in three distinct but interrelated ways in the discourse on climate emergency. The first is reflected in the widely used term knowledge translation, often abbreviated as KT in the literature and mostly referring to the dissemination of research findings on the climate crisis to stakeholders, including the general population. The second, closely related usage follows on from the first and is more metaphorical in nature: here, translating connotes converting the global/scientific information derived from research findings into local/effective action rather than simply disseminating it. When translation is evoked in climate crisis discourse, it usually covers these two interrelated meanings. The third sense of translation in climate crisis discourse is the familiar but less acknowledged meaning of interlingual translation and interpreting. These practices play a crucial role in the circulation of climate crisis information and responses aimed at addressing the crisis, but they remain taken for granted and unproblematized.

Anthropologist Rudiak-Gould (2012) sums up the role of translation in the context of his work on climate crisis discourse in the Marshall Islands as follows:

Climate change communication is ultimately an issue of translation: the cultural translation from scholarly communities to citizens; the cultural translation from Western and other elite developers of climate science to indigenous people and other non-Westerners; the linguistic translation from specialized climatological jargon to the colloquial language of citizens; and the linguistic translation from English, and other languages in which the notion of anthropogenic global warming has been formulated and studied, to the languages of those who are called upon to prevent or prepare for it. (p. 46)

While Rudiak-Gould (2012) recognizes the significance of translation in the opposite direction too, when “citizens’ visions of climate change are transmitted to the scientific, academic, and political elite” (p. 46), it is telling of the prevalent dynamics in the field that this directionality is not always foregrounded or taken into consideration.

Despite this intertwining of climate crisis discourse and various forms of translation, apart from a few notable publications (such as Cronin, 2017, 2020b; Caimotto and Raus, 2022, pp. 124–145; Todorova, 2022) translation studies has been relatively silent on the climate emergency and the ways in which the discipline might contribute to the debate. In what follows, I aim to encourage synergies between translation studies and the climate sciences, and offer some pointers for future avenues of (preferably joint) exploration. I begin by outlining the use of knowledge translation in climate crisis discourse in some detail, followed by a brief discussion of translation as the desired conversion of information into action. These two sections will elucidate some of the problems faced by climate scientists and policy makers today. In the final part of the contribution, I will discuss linguistic/cultural aspects of the climate crisis and present interlingual translation as one possible area to focus on in order to enhance the impact of climate crisis discourse.

Translation as ‘bridge-building’: Knowledge translation

Knowledge translation is a term that originates in the medical sciences, and is defined by the World Health Organization as “the synthesis, exchange and application of knowledge by relevant stakeholders to accelerate the benefits of global and local innovation in strengthening health systems and improving people’s health” (WHO, 2021). Knowledge translation is used in medicine to describe the combined efforts of many agents “translating knowledge from ‘bench to bedside’, or from basic research into clinical practice” (Ødemark et al., 2021, p. 153). In climate crisis discourse, the use of the term is sporadic and less regulated than in medicine,3 but the assumed flow of translation is similarly unidirectional. The emphasis is placed on “translating climate change effects into everyday language” (DeWeber & Wagner, 2015, p. 395) in order to facilitate climate science communication. Information and findings by climate scientists are expected to be disseminated to a wide range of users, with varying levels of background in or understanding of climate science; these users include politicians, company CEOs, NGOs, local and central governments, international organizations, emergency workers, farmers, teachers, foresters, and lay people. It is recognized that this diversity of end users requires meticulous audience design that is appropriate for each occasion and outlet. And yet, such design is rarely sought or achieved. The general approach to knowledge translation does not seek a dialogue with relevant stakeholders but communication to them. It is not uncommon, therefore, for knowledge translation to be used interchangeably and indiscriminately with knowledge dissemination, knowledge mobilization and knowledge transfer, as in Abdulai et al. (2021, p. 108) and Reddix (2021), indicating the urgency and desire to pass on—in a one-way fashion—standard information assumed to be capable of mobilizing communities in their climate-induced struggles. This, as widely documented, is a common feature of scientific communication:

Generally natural scientists—also those who are concerned with producing ‘usable knowledge’—tend to talk to society and to decisionmakers rather than to talk with them. As modern science becomes more specialized and more removed from tacit knowledge the distance between scientists and ordinary people also increases. As is the case with climate change, scientists are actually the ‘problem owners’ in the sense that without the scientist as the link and door-opener between nature and society, climate change would not have been ‘visible’ to society. (Naustdalslid, 2011, p. 250)

The concept of knowledge translation in climate crisis discourse foregrounds the need to bridge the gap between science and political practice (at both individual and governmental levels) through a restricted understanding of meaning transfer. In their concern to get the message across, climate scientists place much emphasis on communicating knowledge about the climate crisis in a way that enhances its relevance and sense of urgency for their audiences. For example, rather than talking about changes in the suitability of a certain habitat for key species of flora and fauna, scientists have argued that it might be better to talk about the socio-economic implications of such changes, framing this strategy of adapting the message to specific audiences as translation:

The responses of fish and other species to climate change can be translated into everyday language that will facilitate climate science communication. Although such translations are rare, one example of this type of creativity is the translation from changes in habitat suitability for tree species to potential reductions in maple syrup production […], which is arguably more interesting and understandable for the general public. Similar translations could be especially important for communicating climate change effects on game fish and other species that are socially and economically important to large groups of people. (DeWeber & Wagner, 2015, p. 396)

Translating climate emergency research into concrete information that has immediate relevance to different sectors of society is seen as crucial for achieving action. The idea is that the information needs to be tailored to the needs, habits, expectations, and everyday lives of people so that it can finally be heard and understood. Unfortunately, such translations only work to the extent that for each instance of climate crisis effect on a given species and ecosystem, affected human users and “a relevant, everyday currency” (DeWeber & Wagner, 2015, p. 398) can be identified. If none are readily available, altruistic relations with the earth rarely emerge, as the environment and climate are, generally-speaking, still seen as too broad and remote an issue to be taken seriously in mainstream political and media discourse. I return to this issue and elaborate on it further in the third section below.

Despite the traditional emphasis on the need to achieve such knowledge transfer, scientists and policy makers are increasingly recognizing that they also have to listen to and learn from the diverse experiences of local communities. Global actions that need to be taken in order to slow down, stop or reverse global warming, which is contributing to the climate crisis, are expected to be uniform across the world, for example in terms of ending fossil fuel dependency, eliminating meat and dairy from diets, and switching to alternative, public means of transport. Yet, the climate crisis itself inevitably means different things in different locations. Locality is key in the experience of the climate crisis—whether it be floods, droughts, wildfires, heatwaves, or ice storms—as well as in the measures that need to be taken to address it. The same set of global ecological data means different things in different regions, i.e., they need to be interpreted differently according to geological and sociological variants. Translation of scientific information therefore needs to take into account the specificities of the target audience in terms of time and place, as is increasingly acknowledged in the literature:

Translating physical changes into human impacts is not a simple task; communities are not passive players that will respond to changes in the physical environment in easily predictable ways. While many prognoses about change are made on a large scale, human activity is highly localized, and impacts and responses will be conditioned by local geography and a range of endogenous factors, including demographic trends, economic complexity, and experience with ‘change’ in a broad sense. (Duerden, 2004, p. 204)

Social scientist Jon Naustdalslid (2011) draws a distinction between “traditional environmental problems” which are immediately visible and quantifiable, with clear and direct impact on local communities (for example, air pollution), and the contemporary climate crisis, which may remain abstract, deferred, and difficult to estimate or measure—for example, the exact extent of the rise of sea level in the near future (pp. 244–247). The former “can more easily mobilize local support” and “link up to and support policy action” (Naustdalslid, 2011, p. 247) because they are more tangible in the areas directly affected and hence easier to recognize as relevant. Short-term positive results can also be achieved and observed more easily. Naustdalslid (2011) further draws a distinction between knowledge translation in climate adaptation and climate mitigation strategies and argues that

it may be easier to translate into practical action knowledge about adaptation than knowledge about mitigation […]. Knowledge about how climate change may strike a concrete local community is more similar to traditional environmental problems than knowledge about how one household’s use of energy is part of and should be acted upon as a global environmental problem. (p. 247)

This means that intelligibility of information is considered more important for knowledge translation in adaptation than that in mitigation. Knowledge translation in mitigation efforts generally targets agents with power, such as governments, institutions and companies, while the main audience for knowledge translation in adaptation is affected communities and populations. Target audience design is equally important in each case but may become even more complex and urgent when the aim is to enable communities to adapt successfully to climate change (Reddix, 2021, p. 5). The concept of resilience is often cited in relation to locality and knowledge translation (Morecroft et al., 2012; Reddix, 2021, p. 5; Tchoukaleyska et al., 2021, p. 7), emphasizing the role of knowledge translation in creating communities that can cope with increasingly adverse environmental conditions. But a focus on resilience, vulnerability and adaptation has been criticized on the basis that it can downplay the hegemonic and political dimensions of the climate crisis (de Wit & Haines, 2021, p. 6).

This rising awareness in climate crisis discourse of the necessity to go beyond the traditional understanding of knowledge translation as knowledge transfer/dissemination is in line with shifting perspectives on scientific communication in general. In her work on the translation of science, Maeve Olohan (2018) observes that in contemporary science studies, science itself is now less commonly regarded “as a set of knowledge claims and the pursuit of universal truths” (p. 503); instead, there is more interest in the situatedness of knowledge and the variety of contexts in which it might be practised. Culture, moreover, is no longer considered “disinterested, value-free, objective, unified, universalist and realist”, but is increasingly deployed in a more nuanced way as a key concept in science communication (Olohan, 2018, p. 503). Olohan (2018) further argues that the idea and associated terminology of scientific facts being ‘communicated’ or ‘disseminated’ to the public “reflects a prevailing positivist view and an outmoded model of communication” (p. 506). In climate crisis discourse, as in other areas of scientific communication, it is not helpful to place the scientists “in the privileged and paternalistic position of being the experts who judge whether scientific ideas have been accurately conveyed or understood” (Olohan, 2018, p. 506). The circulation and reception of scientific knowledge will always be based on the non-scientists’ ideas of science, their prior knowledge and beliefs, and the prevalent public narratives4 of the time.

This shift in understanding the production and reception of scientific knowledge is increasingly reflected in climate crisis discourse. Today there seems to be more scope for a dialogical process of knowledge exchange between the originators, disseminators and users of climate crisis related knowledge, and a recognition that audience reception will determine the effectiveness of the communication of this knowledge. Recent conceptualizations of knowledge translation in climate crisis discourse thus increasingly place the emphasis on multidirectional communication. The aim is to move away from “‘closed knowledge systems’—that is, research networks where knowledge and findings are shared internally, and disseminated through one-way communication with stakeholders—and toward a richer, change-inducing dialogue between diverse partners and stakeholders” (Tchoukaleyska et al., 2021, p. 7). It is understood that multi-way communication and the exchange of information enable diverse communities and organizations to participate more actively in decision making and that research achieves more impact when it actively involves members of the community in conceptualizing and conducting research projects, in translating their findings and sharing them with stakeholders, and “when adaptation is considered ‘through the lens of place’” (Tchoukaleyska et al., 2021, p. 7; emphasis added).

Needless to say, such collaborative work needs to be sensitive to the community’s experiences of the climate crisis. This is the point at which climate crisis discourse collides with cultural discourses. Climate science, as generally understood and practiced today, cannot continue to denote a universal and purportedly non-cultural practice that defines the social and cultural as a barrier to the transmission of ‘true and valid knowledge’. It has to treat culture in a similar way to mainstream translation studies: as a key feature of the social world that we work with and learn from, both in places where scientific knowledge is produced and in the wider domains in which it is received, applied, contested, and transformed. The operative function of texts focusing on the climate crisis is of paramount importance, perhaps even more so than their informative function, as the ultimate goal is effecting change in behavior. Hence the need for a genuine dialogue with diverse audiences.

In a noteworthy example of one initiative that reflects this shift towards a more nuanced approach to culture, Abdulai et al. (2021) report on their work using community radio for place-based knowledge mobilization on climate crisis initiatives in Labrador and Newfoundland, Canada. They maintain that “people have [an] inclination to engage with climate issues when place attachment is incorporated into messaging” (Abdulai et al., 2021, p. 114; emphasis added). Their solution is to ‘localize’ dialogues aired on their community radio, “particularly in translating and advocating for local-based climate solutions and action” (Abdulai et al., 2021, p. 115). Various strategies are employed in these localized radio programmes, including the use of local languages, as well as “translat[ing] knowledge to formats relatable to the local people, including using radio drama, short radio programs, talk shows, and call-in programs” (Abdulai et al., 2021, pp. 111–112). Such place-based programmes provide the space “to incorporate and reconcile local experiential climate knowledge with scientific research that has the potential to produce community-tailored actions” (Abdulai et al., 2021, p. 115). This process also opens up the possibility of sharing and recording personal narratives of the climate crisis, for instance in connection with coastal erosion and deforestation, creating a much-needed dialogue between scientific information and situated knowledges. Abdulai et al.’s community radio project drew on existing traditions of storytelling to maximize the dissemination of relevant information and enhance public engagement. Here, personal narratives act as the glue that binds and shapes the desired public narrative around localized climate discourse, a public narrative that is informed by the meta-narrative of climate crisis science. Radio programmes are thus able to translate complex information about the climate crisis and render it interpretable and relevant to the experiences of community members within their own context. In such endeavours, the persistent metaphor of translation as a bridge building exercise is clearly at play: community radio stations fulfil the role of translators who are able to “bridge the gaps between communities, scientists, and policy makers” (Abdulai et al., 2021, p. 112).

Translation as alchemy: Turning information into action

The second, more metaphorical use of translation in climate crisis discourse closely follows from the anxieties around knowledge translation discussed in the previous section. It mainly revolves around the idea of converting abstract information obtained through knowledge translation into tangible and viable action, but translation in this sense is also used to mean turning theory (or plans, evidence, laws, feelings) into practices, projects, and behavioural change. Here, instead of a bridge between knowledge producers and knowledge users, translation emerges as alchemy, a process of turning the abstract, analytical, and scientific into the concrete, practical, and socio-political, thus expediting the desired change. Depending on the viewpoint of the narrator, this type of translation is understood as the task of governments, politicians, policy makers, scientists, or lay people. In other words, the translator is designated as someone other than the narrator, their exact identification perpetually deferred. There is widespread agreement among researchers and activists that this type of translation faces many challenges, ranging from short-sighted governmental policies to individual apathy. In the words of Naustdalslid (2011) “the problem is not knowledge or lack of knowledge”, as climate-related information and knowledge are almost always available. Instead, what proves to be problematic is often “the context for using knowledge and the incentives to actually turn knowledge into action” (p. 249). Such metaphorical use of translation is particularly widespread in scholarly articles in the field of climate science, as in the following direct quotes:

• “the difficulty of translating expected environmental changes directly into local impacts” (Duerden, 2004, p. 206);
• “translating a strategic commitment to ‘increasing resilience’ into effective, on-the-ground action” (Morecroft et al., 2012, p. 547);
• “translating [the] interdependencies” among UN’s 17 core Sustainable Development Goals into “advice for coherent policy making”; “translating […] findings into concrete policy advice”; “scientific research on […] interdependencies […] to be translated into policy-making” (Breuer et al., 2019, pp. 2, 8, 13);
• “translating climate beliefs into climate action”; “moral behavioral sentiments act as translators, mediating the relation between general climate beliefs and concrete climate actions” (Zawadzki et al., 2020, pp. 21, 39);
• “translating climate strategies into action”; “translation of analytical work into investments”; “translation of analytical work into practice”; “translation of action plans into companion projects”; “whether technical and advisory work is being translated into practice” (Bazbauers, 2022, pp. 1-3, 6).

The use of translation in this sense is equally common in news media reporting on the climate crisis, as is evident in a small sample from The Guardian:5

• “More than 1,100 EU environmental safeguards will need translating into UK law.” (Simms, 2017)
• “Passing the [U.K. Environment] Act is momentous but will count for nothing if it’s not seized upon with vigour by government and translated into real action on the ground.” (Laville, 2021)
• “Citizens are undeniably concerned by the state of the planet, but these findings raise doubts regarding their level of commitment to preserving it […]. Rather than translating into a greater willingness to change their habits, citizens’ concerns are particularly focused on their negative assessment of governments’ efforts.” (Henley, 2021)
• “We must now translate fine words into still finer actions.” (Walker, 2021)
• “Scientists, politicians, and policymakers need to work more tightly together to translate air pollution evidence into air pollution action.” (Fuller, 2022)
• “Issuing new guidances will not translate immediately into green practices […].” (Vidal, 2022)

The perceived disjuncture that needs to be transversed—between scientific information and its tangible impact, between cutting-edge research and its widespread application in law, government policies and individual lifestyle choices—has its roots in another perceived chasm: that between nature and society. Naustdalslid (2011) argues that research published in the period before 2010 focused on climate change as yet another environmental issue, ‘out there’ in nature, similar to what he calls the “traditional environmental problems” as discussed above, with impacts on local communities. It is this dualistic perspective on environment that reinforces the need for knowledge translation, as discussed in the previous section, and underpins a view of translation as an alchemical process, as evident in the examples from both scholarly literature and the media above. If nature and society are seen as two different entities, the role of the natural sciences becomes one of “‘translat[ing]’ the facts about nature to society” and the scientific expert can be cast as “some sort of interpreter on behalf of nature” (Naustdalslid, 2011, p. 245), tasked with demonstrating the extent of damage inflicted on nature by society and minimizing this damage by offering scientific solutions. Critiquing this approach to the climate crisis, Naustdalslid (2011) rightly argues that “nature and society should be seen not only as interdependent, but also as two interlinked systems where the boundaries between them are becoming blurred” (p. 246).

In what follows, I attempt to demonstrate how a renewed focus on locality and the kind of awareness of linguistic and cultural differences that can be brought into sharper relief by interlingual translation may contribute to blurring the boundaries between nature and society further, and thus address some of the weaknesses of the two approaches to translation discussed so far.

Translation as antidote: Interlingual translation

Interlingual translation undoubtedly plays a critical role in both the formation and the spread of climate crisis discourse. There are myriad pressing issues in this field, the majority of which are currently under-researched. Translated information about the climate emergency travels through a variety of genres: first-hand accounts of climate crisis impacts; research papers; policy and legal documents; news media reports; scholarly and popular monographs (fiction and non-fiction); websites; audio-visual material (e.g. documentaries on the climate crisis, loss of biodiversity, exposure of the adverse practices of certain industries); and international climate summits and regional events in which oral interpreting usually takes place. Translating and interpreting this material is crucial, since climate action emphasizes inclusivity and the global circulation of information. There is particular emphasis on the way Indigenous communities around the world are experiencing the climate emergency, and on how they can contribute to the debate. However, with little or no interpreting provision, international delegates in climate summits often find the debates difficult to make sense of and contribute to, given that they have to follow complex legal and scientific discussions in their third or fourth languages (Vidal, 2010). Even when translation and interpreting are offered (for instance, through online volunteer platforms), there may not be sufficient awareness of language politics and hegemonies on the part of those providing the translations. Such platforms may therefore end up perpetuating the epistemic injustices already ingrained in a predominantly Anglophone climate crisis discourse (Baker, 2024). Research reports on biodiversity published in languages other than English do not find the international readership they deserve, thus increasing the gap between Global South and Global North conservation efforts (Quaglia, 2022). Climate crisis discourse further differs across countries and regions, “with media and political platforms framing [the crisis] differently to support certain narratives” (“How are translation and ecolinguistics…”, undated). This creates tension in terms of the diverse ways in which translated material is incorporated into local narrative frameworks, which source material is picked up and which is ignored, as well as how the selected material is framed and translated.

A less frequently discussed area of research is the interlingual translation of literature on the climate emergency for children and teens, where the translation direction is mostly from English into other languages. In recent years, there has been growing discussion on eco-anxiety, especially its effects on the younger population as the generation that is expected to bear the brunt of the climate crisis. While it is not uncommon to see the climate crisis in general approached as “a global public health problem” (Reddix, 2021, p. 5), the focus on the connections between mental health and ecological decline further medicalizes an issue that is inherently social and political. Books on the climate and ecological crises for children and teens mainly aim to channel this eco-anxiety into action, trying to transform the widespread narrative of doom and gloom into one of hope. A quick glance at the paratextual material of relevant works demonstrates that the prevalent strategy is to counter-balance eco-anxiety and the inertia it creates by translating these negative feelings into positive action: “Check out this book, and let’s get to work”, The Tantrum that Saved the World (Herbert & Mann, 2022); “An enchanted adventure with a message of empowerment and hope”, The Last Wild (Torday, 2013); “Brief yet inspirational, this story will galvanize youth to use their voices for change”, Taking on the Plastics Crisis (Testa & Lukashevsky, 2020); “Manages to balance urgency and hope”, I have the Right to Save my Planet (Serres et al., 2021).

These are all extremely rich areas of research that deserve in-depth study by scholars of translation as well as climate scientists. But rather than pursue them further, I want to return to knowledge translation, the (mostly failing) alchemy of translating scientific information into action, and the perceived gap between nature and society which seems to haunt climate crisis communication and create the illusion that the problems are ‘out there’ and can effectively be solved through scientific and technological advances and policy changes. My argument is that recognizing the significance of local cultural perspectives, considering the ways in which such perspectives are reflected in and shaped by language, and reflecting on the ramifications of interlingual translation (or translation proper) of concepts in climate crisis discourse may challenge mainstream expectations of knowledge translation in the field and may inspire climate scientists to identify other, more effective ways of turning their findings into action.

In their introduction to a volume that questions deep-seated assumptions about the vulnerability of the Global South vis-à-vis the climate crisis, de Wit et al. (2018) approach the issue from the angle of “the idea of climate change” and how this idea travels around the world. They define it as “a set of various concepts, models and representations that comprises of scientific information about climate and climate change, which undergoes continuous translation by an array of translators such as scientists, journalists, governments, NGOs, activists, anthropologists, local communities etc.” (de Wit et al., 2018, p. 3). Here, the idea of climate crisis is the overall narrative that determines the framework through which local atmospheric changes will be interpreted. De Wit and her colleagues argue that despite the dominant narratives in the Global North about the alleged helplessness of Indigenous communities (across Sub-Saharan Africa, the Philippines or Micronesia, for example), people in these areas create their own climate narratives, based on their own “specific lifeworlds, histories, cultures, epistemologies and ontologies” (de Wit et al., 2018, p. 3), sometimes—but not always—mixing them with the global scientific knowledge on the climate crisis. Although “the globally constructed idea of climate change largely travels from centres of power to the fringes of the world”, it does not travel in a unilinear or uniform fashion, as it is constantly refashioned throughout its travels (de Wit et al., 2018, pp. 13–14) based on the situated and subjective knowledges of the affected communities. Power relations at play in the new destinations further reshape “the translation and appropriation” of the very idea of the climate crisis as different agents struggle to define and redefine it (de Wit et al., 2018, p. 11). The assumed authority and epistemic superiority of scientific discourses on the climate crisis elaborated in the Global North is challenged in the new environments, and the climate crisis itself “becomes a malleable political resource, empowering some while disempowering others” (de Wit et al., 2018, p. 9).

In this context, adaptation programmes and projects are transformed beyond immediate responses to changes in the climate (Weisser et al., 2014, p. 111). They are continuously negotiated, appropriated, and modified. They can also be heavily politicized by various agents according to their own agendas: governments “employing the adaptation argument to establish state control over water and forest resources”; traditional authorities “reinventing themselves as ‘custodians of the earth’ to regain lost legitimacy”; NGOs “embracing the adaptation idea to access donor funding for ‘green projects’”; and civil society organizations “fighting for property rights to land, pasture and water in order to prevent detrimental open-access situations” (Weisser et al., 2014, p. 112). Thus, the idea of climate adaptation is transformed in its travels according to specific socio-economic and political agendas, and dominant needs and interests in target destinations.

These are certainly not novel observations from the perspective of translation studies scholars. Decades of research within the field have amply demonstrated that target cultures are never passive receivers of translations into their respective languages. From the manner in which texts and ideas are selected for translation and others discarded or ignored, to the way in which the translations are carried out, disseminated and applauded, or criticized, manipulated and reshaped, target cultures have always found different ways of interacting with translations of texts and ideas—even when they are not the initiators of the translation process, as in colonial encounters. Yet given the anxieties around ‘appropriate’ and ‘effective’ knowledge translation, and the traditional view of scientists as the knowledge producers, such active involvement of audiences in making sense of climate crisis discourse can be seen as problematic, if not downright threatening, to the authority of climate science and scientists.

The dynamic participation of audiences is most evident in the linguistic and cultural choices they make in relation to climate crisis terminology. Most climate crisis research is produced in and circulates through English, and yet there is little debate about the inherent Anglocentrism of the climate crisis discourse.6 If the issue is approached at all, it is usually to reiterate the alleged untranslatability of Western climate discourse, especially its terminology, into non-Western languages. Some anthropologists who work on the climate crisis have begun to question this lacuna and are pointing out that in societies where human activities are inseparable from atmospheric conditions—that is, where there is less of a divide between nature and society/culture—talking about the environment or climate independently of the society in question is not possible: “Outside of the realms of science, vernacular terminologies of ‘climate’ or the ways in which climate change is translated, rarely refer to atmospheric conditions alone, but rather encompass broader socio-cultural dimensions and reflect specific ontologies” (de Wit et al., 2018, p. 5). Researchers in the Global North could learn a great deal from this literature—for instance, in relation to the way languages are changing in Indigenous cultures due to environmental transformations. Macfarlane (2019) offers the example of the Inuktitut of Baffin Island (in the Canadian Arctic), who started to use a word that simultaneously refers to “the changes in the weather, the changes in the ice, and the consequent changes in the people themselves. The word is uggianaqtuq—meaning ‘to behave strangely, unpredictably’” (p. 335).

Rudiak-Gould similarly writes about multiple attempts to translate climate change terminology into Marshallese, leading to the introduction of loanwords and phrases from English such as ‘climate change’, ‘global warming’, and ‘greenhouse effect’ (Rudiak-Gould, 2012, p. 48). While people in the Marshall Islands are familiar with these loanwords, climate change is often translated and referred to as oktak in mejatoto (change/difference of mejatoto). The meanings of mejatoto are much more diverse and complex than the English term “climate”. Marshallese, like many other languages, “offers no way to distinguish, with a single word, between ‘meteorological conditions in the short term’ (‘weather’) and ‘average meteorological conditions in the long term’ (‘climate’)” (Rudiak-Gould, 2012, p. 49). More importantly, it is difficult to find a single word in Marshallese which would only refer to meteorological conditions. For the islanders, mejatoto can therefore denote “environmental” phenomena far beyond “climate” or “weather” in English (Rudiak-Gould, 2012, p. 49). It can refer to a recent solar eclipse, alleged changes in people’s behaviour such as increased laziness or unwillingness to cooperate with/take care of one’s family members and neighbours, or even perceived accelerations in the passing of time. In short, “mejatoto can […] encompass what Westerners would consider purely ‘sociocultural,’ rather than ‘environmental,’ phenomena” (Rudiak-Gould, 2012, p. 49) As a result, although climate change is a familiar, everyday, and easily understood phrase, for the locals of the Marshall Islands it “differs dramatically from scientists’ notion of climate change” (Rudiak-Gould, 2012, p. 50).

Rudiak-Gould explains the underlying epistemology as a conceptual framework that does not recognize any distinction between environmental and sociocultural phenomena or issues. “Mejatoto is not polysemous, per se—it only appears that way to those from a cultural background that separates nature and culture”, he writes (Rudiak-Gould, 2012, p. 50). In cultures such as the Marshallese, translating terms such as “climate” or “weather” faithfully would introduce a completely new concept into a society that does not draw a distinction between nature and culture, a concept “which excludes ‘social’ phenomena—a radically foreignizing, ‘abusive’ translation strategy, unlikely to resonate with locals” (Rudiak-Gould, 2012, p. 52). The conflation of beyond-meteorological issues with climate change does not prevent the Marshallese from noticing, commenting on and acting according to observed environmental conditions. They are keenly aware of daily, yearly, and intergenerational changes in the climate (Rudiak-Gould, 2012, p. 51). Yet all the observed and experienced changes of the modern world make it extremely easy for the Marshallese to believe in oktak in mejatoto/climate change as a whole, through a process Rudiak-Gould (2012) calls “promiscuous corroboration” (p. 51). Here, the conceptual area covered by oktak in mejatoto is not a result of mistranslation, but of an acute awareness of the interdependence of environmental and social phenomena. “If one discards the unidirectional model of science education in favor of a bidirectional model of dialogue”, observes Rudiak Gould (2012)—i.e., if scientific communication can go beyond the simplistic model of knowledge translation communicated by the scientists to a general audience, or even beyond a dialogue where the scientists’ main aim remains to persuade their audiences to change their behaviour—the apparent ‘mistranslation’ will instead be understood “as a reinterpretation” in which “the Marshallese view of climate change as a hybrid sociocultural/ environmental risk emerges as a wholly reasonable, and indeed insightful and sorely needed, framing of the issue” (p. 52). Such perceptive dialogue between scientists and local communities would go beyond the limitations of knowledge translation discussed earlier, and even beyond the arguably superficial enhancement of the meta-narrative of climate crisis through the incorporation of local and personal narratives. It would dig deep down into the root of the problem in climate sciences as currently conducted in the Global North by exposing the heritage of Cartesian dualism implicitly dominating the debate. It could ultimately encourage climate scientists to overcome their concern with getting the message across and open their minds to novel perspectives introduced by their audiences. As Rudiak-Gould (2012) argues, climate scientists can usefully teach inhabitants of the Marshall Islanders that solar eclipses are not related to global warming, but the Marshall Islanders can also teach climate scientists that global warming and changes in society and cultural environment are closely related—and “if Marshallese conceptions of climate change are too wide, perhaps scientific conceptions are too narrow” (pp. 52–53).

Implications

On his personal website, Rudiak-Gould poses the question: “What would happen if we saw climate change as a local issue and not a global one?”. While I began this article by referring to the global nature of the conversation on the climate crisis, I have emphasized throughout that locality is the determining factor in achieving effective action to address this crisis. The shift in focus from the global to the local will inevitably bring the issues arising from the climate emergency closer to the hearts and minds of people, allowing them to see their daily habits, behavior and perceptions in a new light. Zooming in on the local will also bring to light issues of language and culture—not as hurdles to be overcome but as intellectual wealth to be drawn upon, so that the convictions and expectations of scientists can be challenged.

Climate scientists and policy makers need to accept that the idea of climate crisis will always be interpreted differently in different locations. Their anxieties are not drastically different from, say, literary authors’ anxiety over the translation of their work into new languages. What might be considered as ‘manipulation’ of their work often yields more creative perspectives. In relation to the climate crisis, the world does need all its creative potential to develop local solutions, both for mitigation and adaptation purposes. As long as a multi-professional conversation can be sustained between local communities, policy makers and scientists, collaborative translations could prove more effective than mainstream practices of unilateral knowledge translation and the subsequent translation of this knowledge into action. The emerging translational ecology is one such area where collaborations are being undertaken between scientists, stakeholders, and policy makers in order to produce transdisciplinary and multi-professional research that is problem-oriented and actionable in the real world.

The holistic conceptualization of nature and culture as interdependent, as outlined above, provides insight into the difficulties Western scientists seem to experience in seeing their findings disseminated through knowledge translation and then translated into action. Knowledge translation is supposed to act as a bridge—a highly problematic metaphor from the point of view of translation studies, often disguising the power differentials involved. But translation can only ‘act as a bridge’ to the extent that the constructed gap between nature and society is sustained. It is not only the Marshallese who have highly sophisticated understandings of the relationships between culture and nature, people and their environment. For the majority of the global population who do not speak English or other European languages from which climate science mostly originates, “translational effects are likely to be large and consequential in most cases of climate change communication” (Rudiak-Gould, 2012, p. 52). If climate scientists are finding it difficult to translate their work into local discourses and policies, both interlingually and metaphorically, it may be that they need to pay more attention to where the rifts and fractures arise in the communication. It is within these ostensible breakdowns that one might find breakthroughs for more meaningful exchanges.

The perpetual deferral of the ‘translator’ in climate crisis discourse—that is, the deferral of responsibility for translating scientific information into viable action by scientists, governments, institutions, and lay people—may have its origins in the rather vague and metaphorical use of translation as converting information into action. The rich body of work on translational agents and embodied translators in translation studies may prove helpful in this regard, redirecting the focus from the abstract notion of how translation should be carried out, to how specific actors and agents are already doing the actual translation work on the ground. Such a concrete focus could shed light on the agendas, baggage, and motives of the ‘translators’ in question, helping to explain their decisions and offer other alternatives for future translations of climate science communication that are more nuanced and more attentive to issues of locality.

As far as knowledge translation is concerned, I have presented the arguments for highlighting the direct socio-economic implications of the climate crisis on the basis that these arguments are more likely to motivate populations to act; this might mean, for example, talking about maple syrup rather than maple trees. It is important to reiterate here that this epistemological approach clearly favors an anthropocentric perspective in communicating information about the climate crisis. Such information is only deemed relevant to the extent that it has a direct impact on the human species—its only target audience—and can spur people to change their opinions and behavior. Based on a rather pessimistic view of the human capacity for empathy, this strategy may end up reinforcing the very anthropocentrism underlying our contemporary emergency. Climate crisis and other forms of environmental degradation become relevant only to the extent that humans—their economy, subsistence, even hobbies such as game fishing—are directly impacted. Arguments for a more progressive politics than this capitalist translation of the impact of the climate crisis on human consumption can have the same anthropocentric focus. In his observations on climate justice and translation, Michael Cronin (2020a) argues that even the concept of climate justice “replicates the ideology of human exceptionalism which is at the origin of the current ecological crisis” (pp. 289–290), focused as it is on what is valued by and matters to humans. Hence, he suggests, “notions of climate justice and translation need to move beyond the strict purview of the human if they are not to be complicit in ecologically damaging forms of subjection” (Cronin, 2020a, pp. 289–290).

Climate crisis communication is beginning to open up to wider perspectives and to take into account the cultural, local, and situated knowledges of its diverse human interlocutors. However, it needs to go further in its conceptualization of the idea of climate crisis and take the beyond-the-human into its purview. In this context, translation studies may offer insights into how to approach otherness and others respectfully, on their own terms, as much as is humanly possible. Recent interest in interspecies communication and how translation studies could contribute to these debates raises some hope in this respect (Barcz & Cronin, 2023; Fraunhofer, 2023; Susam-Saraeva, in press; Van Vuuren, 2022).

From its focus on how to achieve effective communication while still preserving and respecting alterity to its attentiveness to linguistic and cultural intricacies of translation, from its expertise on travelling ideas and theories to its foregrounding of the active and embodied agents within any translation process, translation studies can and should offer valuable insights to those engaged in discourses on the climate crisis. For this to happen, however, a productive, transdisciplinary dialogue must be established between translation studies scholars and researchers from a wide range of disciplines. It is through such dialogue that we can develop a more robust theorization of the ways in which climate crisis discourse travels around the globe, and how it is adopted, adapted, and recreated in each locality, language, and culture.