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    Showing 9 of 405 news items in Culture & Community
    In Raja Ampat, Children Are Learning to Become Island Stewards
    Culture & CommunitySeptember 17, 2026

    In Raja Ampat, Children Are Learning to Become Island Stewards

    “Rockhead fish, salamander fish, starfish and coral.” That’s what dozens of children from Arborek, a small island in Indonesia’s Raja Ampat archipelago, said when asked what they see in nature that is yellow and orange. The children rattled off the fish and other marine life they encounter when they play in the sea, during a reading of a children’s book about Raja Ampat and the threat of nickel mining. Research suggests that children who grow up closely connected to their surroundings can develop sophisticated understandings of their local environment. A 2014 study of children in 22 villages in Indonesian Borneo, for example, found that they recognised relationships among forests, rivers, wildlife and other environmental changes. So Sekar Bestari, the book’s illustrator, wasn’t surprised by the children’s answers. “Most of the time when we read the books to children, they understand them, so don’t underestimate children’s knowledge,” she said after the reading in Arborek. “We’re not surprised anymore today.” The reading was part of a three-day gathering of Indigenous communities in Arborek that brought together representatives from 20 Indigenous subtribes in Raja Ampat, as well as Indigenous people from other parts of Indonesia and abroad. The gathering, organised by Greenpeace Indonesia and local NGO Institut USBA, was intended to strengthen solidarity among Indigenous communities in protecting their lands, waters and biodiversity. The children’s knowledge of their surroundings also emerged in less expected ways. Titah Asmaning Winedar, the book’s author, recalled meeting a girl named Esther who told her there was a way to call sea turtles. “She said you just split open a coconut and leave it in the sea,” Titah said. For Titah and Sekar, such knowledge is part of what they hope the book will encourage children to value — and eventually to document and tell themselves. “When they see that a Raja Ampat story has been made into a book like this, our hope is that they feel, ‘Oh, my story is important too,’” Titah said. A story told through colours The book, titled Luka-Luka Pulau Kecil (The Wounds of Small Islands), tells the story of Pin, a child who loves swimming in the sea and lives in a stilt house surrounded by white sand. Pin loves rainbows because they are full of different colours, just like her home. She often thinks to herself, “Ah, the rainbow must have borrowed all its colours from its surroundings.” Colours are central to the story. For the people of Raja Ampat, Titah said, the colours of the natural environment are more than something beautiful to look at. They can represent the health of the islands and their biodiversity. “I realised this from looking at photos and snorkelling videos from Raja Ampat,” she said. “I thought, ‘Wow, it’s so colourful.’” She then asked two Greenpeace volunteers from Raja Ampat what kinds of plants and animals they encountered around their homes. They mentioned flowers and other colourful elements of the landscape. Rainbows also frequently appear in Raja Ampat, Titah said. Raja Ampat lies in the heart of the Coral Triangle and is one of the world’s most biodiverse marine regions. Researchers have estimated that its waters contain about 75% of the world’s known coral species. The book turns that biodiversity into a visual story about what could be lost if mining damages the environment. One day, while Pin is happily playing, she hears a rumbling sound from the sea. It turns out to be a giant barge carrying several huge excavators. The next day, the rainbow appears without its red colour, obscured by smoke from the mining activity. At the same time, Pin sees a red hibiscus flower wilting, a bird-of-paradise becoming weak and red coral dying. As mining continues, the colours of the rainbow — and the plants and animals they represent — disappear one by one. “Are you sad if the marine animals disappear?” Sekar asked the children. “Very sad,” they responded. Nickel’s return to the conversation The story comes as Raja Ampat remains at the centre of a debate over nickel mining. Nickel, used primarily in stainless steel and increasingly in some electric vehicle batteries, has become a major commodity for Indonesia. The country’s nickel mine production rose from about 130,000 metric tons in 2015 to 2.2 million metric tons in 2024, according to the US Geological Survey, making Indonesia by far the world’s largest producer. Most of Indonesia’s nickel mining is concentrated in Sulawesi and North Maluku. But several islands in Raja Ampat have also been targeted for mining. Public concern over nickel mining in Raja Ampat erupted in 2025 after images of forest clearing and environmental damage were widely shared on social media. The backlash prompted the government to suspend mining operations and later revoke four of the region’s five nickel mining permits. The remaining operation, the state-owned PT Gag Nikel, continues to mine on Gag Island. Greenpeace says the government actions have not eliminated the threat of future mining in the archipelago. Its latest research identifies two companies seeking to develop nickel projects in eastern Waigeo, Raja Ampat’s largest island, and another company seeking a coal permit in Misool. Greenpeace had initially described three companies as pursuing nickel projects but issued a clarification in August 2026 saying that one of the three was actually seeking a coal permit. Waigeo is home to endemic wildlife including Wilson’s bird-of-paradise (Cicinnurus respublica), the Waigeo brushturkey (Aepypodius bruijnii) and the Waigeo spotted cuscus (Spilocuscus papuensis). Residents of Arborek say they are concerned that mining elsewhere in Raja Ampat could affect the waters and ecosystems on which communities across the archipelago depend. Benoni Watem, a 43-year-old resident of Arborek and an owner of a homestay business, said he firmly rejects mining in Raja Ampat, because it could harm the beauty of the ecosystem, which is one of the main reasons why tourists come to the region. Arborek is the closest village to the famed Manta dive and snorkeling sites. “The beauty of Raja Ampat is what brings tourists here. But if mining comes in, the environment that we have protected will be damaged by mining, and then the beauty will disappear,” Benoni said. He’s worried that waste from mining will end up in the ocean and ultimately kill marine life, such as manta rays — the largest species of all rays that are threatened with extinction due to their slow reproductive rates and large number of threats. “Manta rays might become uncomfortable. If waste enters the sea, their food will disappear,” Benoni said. “When there are manta rays, guests get excited and happy.” The concern is not only for wildlife. George Mentansan, an anthropologist who spoke at the Arborek gathering, said environmental damage could also threaten the cultural diversity of Raja Ampat. Indigenous communities have developed their own systems for managing natural resources, including ecological calendars, areas protected by customary rules and restrictions on catching certain marine species.

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    The Extinction of Languages Is an Environmental Issue
    Culture & CommunitySeptember 3, 2026

    The Extinction of Languages Is an Environmental Issue

    More than 2,000 Indigenous languages are at risk of disappearing this century — and with them we could lose vitally important traditional ecological knowledge. Environmentalists, myself included, pay close attention to gloomy topics like species extinctions and Earth’s dwindling life-support systems. It’s not for the love of dark matters that we keep tabs on depressing metrics. Rather, it’s with the hope that they teach us something and guide us toward mitigating future losses. On the biological front, about a million species could be taken by an extinction vortex by the end of the century. That’s also when linguists estimate about one-third of the world’s 7,000-plus Indigenous languages will go silent — and with them, most of their related cultures. This is not uplifting news, to be sure. Nonetheless, people concerned with environmental protection can learn a lot from language extinctions. As it turns out, the survival of languages and species may well be linked. And when we wrap our minds around this, the panorama for conservation actually gets a little brighter. A Confluence of Curious Similarities Linguistic variation around the world caught the imagination and attention of naturalists going back at least to the Victorian era of exploration, when folks like Alfred Russell Wallace and Charles Darwin traveled across the wilds of South America and the Malay Archipelago. Wallace marveled at the linguistic diversity shown by communities spread along the edges of the watery world in the Amazon basin and dotting the highlands of New Guinea. He even wrote out partial lexicons to aid in communicating with his guides. Darwin, in his ruminations on the descent of man, went so far as to remark that languages and species are “curiously the same.” He was thinking about human evolution and wondering if languages might evolve by natural selection. With his thoughts on the flowering of languages, he did not give time to their senescence. It would take more than 100 years, after the concurrent publication of Darwin and Wallace’s theory of natural selection, for scientists to uncover the full extent of global linguistic variation, and also the languages’ risk of extinction. Today the patterns emerging from these discoveries hold lessons for environmentalists. One of the pioneering explorations was conducted by Larry Gorenflo (Penn State University) and his team of conservation biologists and linguists. Their labors produced some profound findings. First off, the places on Earth with outrageously high numbers of species also have outrageously high numbers of Indigenous languages. Furthermore, many of the species and languages of these hyper-rich spots are endemic. They don’t occur, much less co-occur, anywhere else. Gorenflo and team went on to examine language diversity in regions that conservationists designate as “priority areas.” A second striking fact emerged: High-priority conservation regions are home to nearly 70% of the world’s languages. These results demonstrate we can either win big or lose big, depending on the success of our efforts in these doubly diverse hotspots. It’s like playing a Daily Double, with “How to save life on Earth?” as the question to the answer. Lullaby for Language Extinction is forever. Except when it’s not. This isn’t a reference to de-extinction and the facsimiles brought into existence by technology. It’s about languages. When the last speaker of a language falls into eternal slumber, so does their language. Linguists say that such languages are “dormant.” Dormancy is different from the extinction of biological species, at least in principle. Sleeping languages can, hypothetically, experience reawakening. That is, they can be spoken again after a period of dormancy, but only under special circumstances. At a minimum there must be a written record of the lexicon and syntax. For instance, Hebrew came back in the 19th century after a long slumber. Sadly, however, the vast majority of Indigenous languages only exist in the oral form, making linguistic resurrections nearly impossible. This is why dormancy and extinction are, for all intents and purposes, synonymous. It’s also why we must work to document and teach Indigenous languages before they nod off. High Tolls for Both Languages and Species Just as the vastness of language varieties was unearthed, the global decline became apparent as well. Nowadays researchers race to figure out what drives language endangerment. Lindell Bromham and Xia Hua (Australian National University) are two such investigators, who lead a large interdisciplinary team analyzing the subject. In a recent cutting-edge study of massive scope and scale, the team uncovered the principal determinants that drive the downturn. One of the top three is strangely simple: roads. “Greater road density, which may encourage population movement, is associated with increased (language) endangerment,” Bromham and team conclude. You might say that roads compromise the linguistic intactness of a landscape. Conservation biologists, well versed in the dangers that roads pose to natural ecosystems, should relate to that. This is not to suggest that road effects are perfectly analogous in their impacts on languages and species. There are major differences. They have to do with the paradoxical capacity of roads to both create and destroy connections. For remote ethnolinguistic groups, a frontier highway increases connectivity. Distances that once required weeks or more to cross may be traversed in hours or days. Lines of communication suddenly open — for material goods, of course, but also for the transmission of diverse ideologies and ways of life. When this happens with high speed or without guardrails, a collision with cultural traditions and language preservation ensues. Often, such roads are the handiwork of large industries, looking to make money in the frontier, usually at the expense of local peoples whose lands they usurp. One of the first casualties of enhanced contact is the local vernacular. This is a big blow to culture, potentially harming people’s health, wellbeing, and identity. The loss is accompanied by a shift to another language, usually the parlance of government, business, and education. A new sociocultural reality arises as the highway expansion continues. By contrast, roads harm ecosystems by severing connections. Effectively, highways fracture natural populations and break the fundamental rules of ecology. Renowned ecologist and conservation biologist Dr. William Laurance (James Cook University) tells me that bulldozing through forest expanses is like opening Pandora’s box. “It’s because of the transformative effect that (roads) have,” he says. “They’re the single most important proximate driver of environmental change and degradation. A road goes in and six months later the forest is split open like a splayed fish.” In distant lands, far from government regulation and oversight, a motorway quickly spawns ghost roads — unauthorized byways branching from the central transit spine. In short order, plantation monocultures flatten forests and open-pit mines erupt like infectious pocks. The cleavage of habitats puts native plant and animal populations at greater risk of declines, even extinctions. Curbside, roadkill piles up. So while highways and their byways exert harm in different ways, they are nonetheless critical factors that must be reckoned with, for both conservationists and linguists. We Don’t Need No Education? The work by Bromham and team produced a result that may run counter-intuitive to every reader of this piece. Next to roads, say the investigators, the biggest threat to languages is formal education. Educators may shake their heads, but there’s good evidence that Bromham and colleagues are right. They argue that monolingual education can lead to language shifts, with local Indigenous languages yielding to rising tongues. Young people, looking ahead to professional careers, may be strongly incentivized to adopt the language that advances their aspirations. Various lines of evidence suggest this is, indeed, what happens. An example comes from Papua New Guinea, a tiny nation in Melanesia whose name graces the very top of the list of language-rich countries. That diversity is endangered, in large part, due to high school education, say Alfred Kik (University of Goroka) and Vojtěch Novotný (Czech Academy of Sciences). They’re long-term investigators in Papua New Guinea who have been documenting students’ Indigenous language skills and knowledge of local flora and fauna. Their work demonstrates a “precipitous” decline in both. The result derives, they argue, from the push for children to learn English, which is used in schools and perceived to be the language of opportunity. The shift is also related to the spread of Tok Pisin, a type of pidgin English used extensively as the lingua franca in multilingual settings, including cafeterias and playgrounds. The message is not that formal education should be eliminated for the sake of global linguistic diversity. The lesson, rather, is that the language of instruction, which is usually determined by education policy and funding availability, is highly consequential. Multilingual education is a possible antidote, especially in the context of environmental education.

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    In Barbados, a New School for an Island Future
    Culture & CommunityAugust 27, 2026

    In Barbados, a New School for an Island Future

    AMMA Architects’ Oceana Innovation Hub supports a new approach to learning through a flexible, climate-responsive design rooted in local building traditions and construction culture. Just a few steps from the crystal blue waters of Carlisle Bay in Bridgetown, Barbados, AMMA Architects’ Oceana Innovation Hub is a two-story mass timber building wrapped in bands of bright pastel, with deep verandas and louvered accordion shutters that open directly to the sea breeze. Its interconnected pyramidal roofs evoke, among other things, origami sculpture, an abstracted mountain range, fragmented crystals, or even shark teeth. The 5,000-square-foot building, designed with the XQ Institute, an Oakland, California–based nonprofit focused on rethinking high school education, along with the Barbados Ministry of Educational Transformation, is the first built piece of a national experiment: An attempt to remake school architecture around project-based learning, climate resilience, and a more locally rooted vision of education. The project began with Barbados Prime Minister Mia Mottley’s larger ambition to move away from the island’s colonial-era “chalk and talk” education model—rows of students, teachers at the front, testing and memorization—and toward a more fluid, collaborative way of learning. “Any school is the built manifestation of the pedagogy itself,” says AMMA founder Michael Murphy. In other words, if Barbados wanted a new type of learning, it needed a new spatial model. XQ’s project-based instruction model provided the framework. Students, focusing on local environmental issues, work alone, in pairs, or in larger teams over the course of a project. So they need not rows of desks but spaces for research, experiment, reflection, revision, and finally, presenting their findings. AMMA translated those ideas into a triangular module, which can be interlocked with other modules into larger geometric forms—rhomboids, trapezoids, hexagons—that can then be scaled up into classrooms, labs, gathering rooms, and eventually full campuses. “It opens and closes,” Murphy says. “It can hold two people or 100 people.” Inside, the same modular logic continues into triangular desks and flexible furniture, allowing students and teachers to rearrange each space in almost unlimited ways. At the hub, students from across the island gather for classes, workshops, research, oceanographic study, and even water-based activities, like kayaking. So the beach and the sea become part of the curriculum. And the triangular model becomes a learning lesson itself, teaching students about building structure and climatic response while creating a kit of parts that can be easily repeated, and customized. “We knew that future schools might be built and they wanted a solution that could be replicated without the hand of an architect coming in and redoing it every time,” Murphy says. “You can use the same frame and the same module, yet no two schools will be the same.” Unlike the typically unimaginative prefab school system, like the square classroom trailer, it’s a fixed system whose outcome is not fixed.

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    On an Indonesian Island, an Ancient Ritual Evolves to Protect an Endangered Cockatoo
    Culture & CommunityAugust 20, 2026

    On an Indonesian Island, an Ancient Ritual Evolves to Protect an Endangered Cockatoo

    An Indigenous community on Indonesia’s Seram Island is preserving a centuries-old coming-of-age ritual while helping protect the endangered salmon-crested cockatoo, a new study has found. The study, published in July in the Journal of Ethnobiology, documents how the Huaulu people adapted the sacred Cidaku initiation ceremony in collaboration with conservationists and government authorities. The ritual marks young men’s transition to adulthood and traditionally involved wearing the distinctive crest feathers of the salmon-crested cockatoo (Cacatua moluccensis), a bird found nowhere else on Earth. The Huaulu, one of Seram’s oldest Indigenous communities, regard Seram’s forests as a living realm inhabited by powerful spirits, shaping their approach to conservation. “The use of cockatoo feathers is specifically embedded within this cultural system and is very different from hunting birds for commercial purposes,” study lead author Dwi Agustina, a researcher at Indonesia’s Gadjah Mada University and program coordinator at the Indonesia’s Cockatoo Conservation Association (KKI), told Mongabay in an email. The Cidaku ritual once had ties to head-taking, but after colonial authorities and Christian missionaries suppressed the practice in the early 20th century, the Huaulu adapted the ceremony around hunting wild animals. The salmon-crested cockatoo became one traditional target, with its crest feathers used in the ceremonial puheliam headdress: the white feathers as a symbol of sacred life, peace and community, and the peach-tinged feathers signifying great strength and courage. Over the decades, however, the species has become endangered, largely due to poaching for the wildlife trade and habitat loss. That has put the Cidaku tradition at odds with Indonesian conservation law, which prohibits capturing or killing the species, including for ceremonial use. “The traditional hunting by the Huaulu community had a comparatively lower but not neglecting impact I would say,” study co-author George Olah, a conservation ecologist at Australian National University, told Mongabay in the email. He cited evidence from Manusela National Park, a protected area on Seram Island that overlaps with the Huaulu community’s forest territory, showing that salmon-crested cockatoo populations had fallen by more than half in some parts of the park. Those findings, in a 2021 study, also documented dozens of confiscated birds across Maluku province, the clutch of islands that includes Seram, and recommended elevating the species’ conservation status from vulnerable to the higher-risk category of endangered. In addition, the new study also found salmon-crested cockatoo feathers being offered for sale internationally via online marketplace eBay in 2024, underscoring the commercial pressures facing the endangered species. Huaulu community members distinguished their own use of feathers from wildlife trafficking and said they viewed external trade as a major driver of the bird’s decline. Researchers first conducted fieldwork with the Huaulu community in northern Seram from March to November 2019. Following the COVID-19 disruption, they resumed their fieldwork from July 2024 to May 2025. The study area, near Mount Binaya and Manusela National Park, is among the salmon-crested cockatoo’s last remaining strongholds, following the species’ disappearance from nearby smaller islands of Haruku, Saparua and Nusa Laut. Researchers interviewed 10 community members and surveyed 43 households, and conducted reviews of published research and evidence of feather trading. Discussions with Huaulu elders, traditional hunters and conservation authorities ultimately led to a proposal to not kill the birds for their feathers and instead gather the feathers that the cockatoos naturally shed. The study found that community members saw the feathers’ authenticity and sacred symbolism, and not the hunt itself, as central to the ritual’s meaning. While some elders initially worried the change could weaken the association with courage, younger men welcomed the approach, saying declining wild cockatoo numbers had made feathers increasingly difficult to obtain and risked delaying initiation ceremonies. These findings reinforced the conservation strategy of using shed feathers from rehabilitation centers, rescue facilities and zoos, enabling the Cidaku ritual to continue without hunting wild birds.

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    In Wallis and Futuna, a Unique Healthcare System: "You Don't Govern in Wallis the Same Way You Govern Elsewhere."
    Culture & CommunityAugust 20, 2026

    In Wallis and Futuna, a Unique Healthcare System: "You Don't Govern in Wallis the Same Way You Govern Elsewhere."

    From New Caledonia to Mayotte, via Guadeloupe, hospitals in France's overseas territories play a vital role. Despite challenges related to geographical isolation, insularity, weather conditions, various diseases, and staff shortages, they persevere, innovate, and grow. Our partner Outremers360 gives a voice to the directors of these hospitals. Dominique Cheveau, former director of Médipôle, heads the Wallis and Futuna Health Agency and oversees the territory's two hospitals. How are the hospitals in Wallis and Futuna doing? The hospitals are doing well. The situation on our island is very specific; the local healthcare system relies on the Wallis and Futuna Health Agency. This agency is responsible for the two hospitals: Sia Hospital in Wallis and Kaleveleve Hospital in Futuna, located 240 kilometers apart. The agency also oversees three clinics that offer general medical consultations, maternal and child health services, and dental care. The agency therefore has missions related to public health, epidemiology, and prevention. This public institution that you manage is responsible for implementing health policy in a territory without a general social security system or earmarked taxation. Why? This unique situation stems from an agreement between Wallis and Futuna and the French State when the territory joined the Republic. It was agreed that healthcare would remain completely free for everyone. Whether for residents or tourists, healthcare costs are covered by the State. There is no private medical practice; the Health Agency remains the sole healthcare provider, overseeing the two hospitals and three clinics. Are hospitals under strain? Hospitals represent 20% of the agency's activity. They are small facilities with relatively low patient volumes. It's exceptional for us to be at capacity. We have 20 medical beds, 20 surgical beds, and an operating theater with a surgeon. Practitioners regularly come from New Caledonia and mainland France to conduct consultations and perform operations. We almost always have visiting doctors on assignment in our hospitals. These include gastroenterologists, ophthalmologists, oncologists, and so on. Which practitioners are permanently based in your area? We have an anesthesiologist, a surgeon, two general practitioners, a pharmacist, a radiologist, a biologist, and emergency physicians. For an area of ​​about 11,000 inhabitants, that's already quite good. We have no trouble attracting specialists for missions lasting from two to three weeks; the candidates are here because it's very enriching for them medically to come here. In cases of complex medical needs, the Health Agency organizes the transfer of patients to mainland France, New Caledonia, or Australia. How many are there per year? We carry out approximately 850 medical evacuations per year. Ninety percent of these transfers are to New Caledonia. Medical evacuations to mainland France involve specialized oncology, and we also send patients to Australia for neurosurgery or cardiac surgery. These transfers represent 30% of our budget, or 25 million euros per year [nearly 3 billion francs, editor's note], and we receive state funding that allows us to pay our service providers. What are the other specific characteristics of your territory in terms of healthcare? In terms of health, we have significant nutritional problems, with widespread overweight and a very high obesity rate, as in most overseas territories. These issues lead to numerous health problems such as diabetes and heart disease. We also have vector-borne diseases, transmitted by mosquitoes, such as dengue fever. We are conducting prevention campaigns among the population, and the territorial authorities are doing everything possible to prevent an outbreak. Filariasis [a parasitic disease that affects the lymphatic system, editor's note] is also present in our territory. We are currently conducting a major treatment campaign in Futuna, with the goal of treating 60% of the population against this disease, which was thought to have been eradicated twenty years ago. However, filariasis can be neutralized, meaning it goes dormant, but it can reappear. Endometrial cancer is also prevalent in young women around the age of 30. A study is currently underway to understand the reasons for this prevalence, and we are working on this in partnership with the Eugène-Marquis Center at the University Hospital of Rennes, in Brittany. At the beginning of the year, the hospital in Futuna acquired its first hemodialysis center. What has this brought? The establishment of a hemodialysis center in Futuna has allowed many patients to receive treatment at home. Previously, Futunans had to travel to Wallis for their treatment. I met a woman who had undergone dialysis in Wallis for ten years. She was finally able to return to her island after a decade away from home. With a similar objective, we plan to install a scanner in Futuna and are considering replacing the aging one in Wallis. Our goal is to be able to more easily treat immediate emergencies in Wallis and Futuna. For acute treatments conducted outside the territory, we want patients to be able to return home as soon as possible; to achieve this, our infrastructure must be adapted for rehabilitation and postoperative care. What is the state of your healthcare infrastructure? Our buildings are old and outdated; we have renovation projects and we received €45 million [5.37 billion francs, editor's note] as part of the Ségur de la Santé (healthcare reform plan) for hospital renovations. But the work hasn't started yet; we're currently working on real estate investments. My predecessors only stayed for short periods, which doesn't make projects easy. In Wallis and Futuna, everything rests on three pillars: the Republic, the Catholic Church, and customary law (the three kingdoms). Decision-making requires time to consider each of the territory's stakeholders.

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    How Japan’s Islands Preserve Nature and Culture for the Future
    Culture & CommunityAugust 13, 2026

    How Japan’s Islands Preserve Nature and Culture for the Future

    Japan is home to more than 14,000 islands, each with its own distinct natural environment and cultural traditions. At the same time, these island communities face a shared challenge: sustaining local vitality. The stories of Hachijojima in Tokyo, where traditional culture continues to thrive; Naoshima in Kagawa Prefecture, known for its art-driven revitalization; and Yakushima in Kagoshima Prefecture, home to a UNESCO World Natural Heritage site, offer a glimpse into the efforts underway across Japan’s islands to preserve nature and culture while creating a sustainable future, JIJI Press reports. Hachijojima: Shaped by the Kuroshio Current Located about 290 kilometers south of central Tokyo and just a 55-minute flight away, Hachijojima is home to landscapes and cultural traditions distinct from those of Japan's mainland. In the island’s northwest stands Mount Hachijo-Fuji, rising 854 meters above sea level, while the surrounding Kuroshio Current has long brought abundant bounty from the sea. The island’s mild climate has earned it the nickname “the closest tropical destination to Tokyo.” From winter through spring, humpback whales migrate through its waters, and sea turtles and colorful tropical fish can be seen in the island’s exceptionally clear seas. However, Hachijojima’s appeal extends beyond its natural environment. During the Edo period (1603–1868), the island was also known as a place of exile, where a wide variety of people were sent, including Buddhist priests and samurai such as the once-powerful feudal lord Ukita Hideie. Over time, this history intertwined with the island’s environment and way of life, fostering a distinctive culture of its own. One of the most notable examples is Kihachijo, a traditional woven textile. Kihachijo traces its origins to silk textiles produced on Hachijojima some 800 years ago and has been designated a nationally recognized traditional craft. Its yellow, reddish-brown, and black colors are produced using natural dyes derived from small carpetgrass, Japanese bay tree bark, and a combination of Itajii chinkapin bark and mud dyeing. The process— from cultivating plants and producing dyes to coloring the fabric using the island’s soil and water—embodies the wisdom with which islanders have long made use of nature’s bounty. In recent years, a shortage of successors has become a challenge. In response, the Kihachijo Preservation Society and the Hachijo Town government have been working to pass on the craft’s techniques and nurture a new generation of practitioners, carrying this cultural tradition into the future. This knowledge of making the most of natural resources continues to shape life on the island today. Located along a common typhoon path, Hachijojima is not infrequently affected by disruptions to supplies and energy caused by canceled ships and flights. To address this, the island has made use of its abundant geothermal resources. In 1999, Japan’s first full-scale geothermal power plant on a remote island began operation there. At one point, it supplied roughly one-quarter of the island’s electricity and drew attention as a leading example of renewable energy use. Although the facility was decommissioned in 2019 due to aging equipment, surveys and plans for new geothermal power projects are still underway. Under the slogan “Aiming for a Clean Island,” Hachijo Town is working toward sustainable island development by making use of nature’s bounty in both cultural and energy initiatives. Naoshima: Revitalized Through Art Naoshima is a small island in the Seto Inland Sea with a population of around 3,000. Today, it is known as one of the world’s leading destinations for contemporary art, attracting visitors from across Japan and abroad. At Miyanoura Port, the island’s main gateway, visitors are greeted by Yayoi Kusama’s striking Red Pumpkin. Scattered across the island are the Chichu Art Museum, Benesse House Museum, and the Lee Ufan Museum, all designed by Tadao Ando. These sites create a unique landscape where nature, architecture, and art are seamlessly integrated. Among Naoshima’s many art experiences, the Art House Project stands out. Under this initiative, artists transform vacant traditional houses into works of art. At its core is the idea of making use of what already exists, rather than tearing down the old to build something new. The artworks extend beyond the buildings themselves. The light streaming through windows, the sea breeze flowing through alleyways, the pillars and floors marked by the passage of time, and even the everyday lives of the island’s residents all become part of the experience. As visitors walk around the island, they encounter its history and way of life firsthand. By preserving local memories while creating new appeal, the Art House Project is also an effort to rediscover the island’s value and pass it on to future generations. Yet Naoshima was not always a tourist destination. During Japan’s period of rapid economic growth, the Seto Inland Sea coast underwent industrialization, and the island experienced environmental problems such as air pollution caused by a copper smelter. In the 2000s, the island also played a role in treating industrial waste that had been illegally dumped on the neighboring island of Teshima. At the same time, it was losing population, and local vitality was beginning to decline. In the face of these challenges, Naoshima placed art at the heart of its regional revitalization. Today, the islands of the Seto Inland Sea—including Naoshima—host the Setouchi Triennale every three years. In 2025, the festival featured 222 artists and artist groups from 37 countries and regions, and Naoshima alone welcomed approximately 340,000 visitors. Once troubled by population decline, the island has become a cultural hub that attracts visitors from around the world. At the same time, the Seto Inland Sea is Japan’s largest enclosed coastal sea and faces the challenge of addressing the accumulation of marine plastic litter. In 2025, as part of the Setouchi Oceans X initiative, four prefectures jointly conducted coastal cleanup activities, collecting about 26 tons of waste. For Naoshima as well, preserving the environment of the Seto Inland Sea has become an important challenge as the island pursues regional revitalization through culture. Yakushima: Living in Harmony with the Forest Yakushima lies about 135 kilometers south of Kagoshima City and is one of the first sites in Japan to have been designated a UNESCO World Natural Heritage site. About 90 percent of the island is covered by forest, with mountains rising to nearly 2,000 meters. Subtropical plants grow along the coast, while cool-temperate vegetation is found near the mountain peaks, leading to the saying that “the Japanese archipelago exists within a single island.” Annual rainfall in the mountainous areas exceeds 8,000 millimeters—about five times Japan’s national average. This abundant rain has nurtured Yakushima’s unique ecosystem.

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    Pacific Island Nation Nauru Officially Changes Name to ‘Naoero’
    Culture & CommunityAugust 13, 2026

    Pacific Island Nation Nauru Officially Changes Name to ‘Naoero’

    The Pacific island nation of Nauru has officially reclaimed its traditional name, becoming the Republic of Naoero. Nauru’s parliament passed a constitutional amendment in May to change the name, and President David Adeang confirmed in a social media post late on Wednesday that plans for a national referendum on the change had been dropped. He said the shift reflected an identity the people already held rather than a new one seeking approval. “The decision not to pursue a referendum was reached after thoughtful deliberation that Naoero is not a new name seeking acceptance by the people,” Adeang said. “It is already the identity of the people, is on the national coat of arms, and spoken in the community; and importantly is allowed by the constitution.” The country’s short-form name will now be “Naoero”, while its citizens will be referred to as “dei-Naoero”. The government has notified international organisations and other countries of the change, and the transition process is already under way. The name Nauru dates back to European colonisation, when the island’s native name, Naoero, was altered because colonisers found it difficult to pronounce. Nauru is the world’s third-smallest nation, after Vatican City and Monaco, with a population of roughly 12,000. Adeang said the renaming was not a political move, but one centred on heritage, describing it as an effort to preserve “the legacy of our ancestors” while strengthening “the future of our children”.

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    Giving Babies a Healthy Start in Turks and Caicos Islands
    Culture & CommunityAugust 13, 2026

    Giving Babies a Healthy Start in Turks and Caicos Islands

    Through early detection, integrated care, and sustained outreach, the Turks and Caicos Islands has eliminated mother-to-child transmission of HIV and hepatitis B. Dr. Camelia Clarke still remembers when a young mother came to the hospital just after missing her second period. Following a routine testing process, she tested positive for HIV. “We were able to counsel her, let her know what was happening. We also invited her partner in to be tested as well, and he was further linked to care and treatment,” Dr. Clarke recalls. What followed shows how early detection and immediate care can change the course of a newborn’s life, when a mother receives treatment and close monitoring throughout her pregnancy. “We established her baseline viral load, and with treatment, it eventually became undetectable,” Dr. Clarke says. By the time the mother gave birth with no complications, the team had dramatically reduced the risk of transmission. Right after delivery, the infant received prophylactic medication and, at 18 months, tested negative for HIV. “Because of the strong integrated service, the early recognition, we were able to prevent vertical transmission and have a healthy outcome for mother and baby,” Dr. Clarke explains. From early detection to zero transmission Today, Dr. Clarke is Director of the Health Promotion and Advocacy Unit and the focal point for the elimination of HIV mother-to-child transmission (EMTCT) within the Ministry of Health and Human Services in the Turks and Caicos Islands. The Caribbean nation, with just over 45,000 people, has been working for the better part of the last decade to build a system that strives to test, treat and monitor every woman and pregnancy. “Preventing mother-to-child transmission begins at the first antenatal visit,” says Nurse Savita Ramkellowan, Senior Public Health Nurse, attached to the Ministry of Health Primary Health Care. “The rapid tests have really transformed how we screen for HIV, syphilis, and hepatitis B in maternal health.” Thanks to this sustained effort, the World Health Organization (WHO) recently validated Turks and Caicos Islands for the elimination of mother-to-child transmission of HIV and hepatitis B. Backed by a strong primary health care system, integrated services ensure early detection, timely treatment, and continuous follow-up. By embedding screening into routine care, the country has reduced transmission rates below 2% and achieved over 95% coverage for prenatal care, HIV testing, and treatment for mothers and newborns.

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    GSIS 2026 Podcast
    Culture & CommunityJuly 30, 2026

    GSIS 2026 Podcast

    SMILO Podcast Series: Recorded Live in Gran Canaria During the Global Sustainable Islands Summit 2026 in Gran Canaria, our partners at SMILO recorded a special podcast series bringing together island leaders, policymakers, and experts from across the world. The series explores key themes including governance, blue economy, marine conservation, and sustainable financing. You can listen to the full-length podcast recording below, or explore the individual 9-episode breakdown to dive into specific topics and speakers. We’d like to extend a special thank you to SMILO, the Cabildo de Gran Canaria, and all the incredible guests and speakers who shared their insights and made this series possible.

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