Chiang Mai’s flood scare signals climate apartheid future now threatening all
Chiang Mai dodged a bullet. But what if that bullet wasn’t meant for Chiang Mai alone? This week, the Ping River, swollen by rains, crested just below the danger mark, a sigh of relief rippling through the northern Thai city. “[A] large volume of water flowing from northern areas has already passed the Chiang Mai municipality,” announced Mayor Assanee Buranapakorn, according to the Bangkok Post“. But the real story isn’t averted disaster; it’s a system under stress, a world where climate risk amplifies existing inequalities with brutal efficiency.
What happened in Chiang Mai isn’t an isolated incident; it’s a flashing red light on a dashboard we keep ignoring. These ‘near misses’ are data points, each revealing the brittleness of a global infrastructure built for a climate that no longer exists. We’re trapped in a non-linear feedback loop: rising global temperatures increase the frequency and intensity of extreme weather events, pushing cities like Chiang Mai—and the millions who live there—into a state of perpetual precarity. The Meteorological Department warns that Wipha Storm could bring heavy rains, highlighting just how fragile the situation remains.
The seeds of this crisis were sown not just in the atmosphere, but in decades of economic policy. The rampant deforestation in northern Thailand, often driven by agricultural expansion catering to global markets and fueled by lax enforcement, reduces the land’s capacity to absorb rainfall. A 2014 report by the UN Food and Agriculture Organization estimated that Thailand lost nearly 9 million hectares of forest cover between 1990 and 2010. This ecological damage, combined with inadequate urban planning prioritizing short-term growth over long-term resilience, creates a vulnerability feedback loop.
This vulnerability exposes deeper fractures. Developing nations often lack the resources—and often, the political capital given competing priorities—to invest in the necessary infrastructure and climate adaptation measures. Consider that just last year, Chiang Mai faced severe inundation, with the Ping River reaching 5.3 meters. Yet, according to the World Bank, Thailand spends a far smaller percentage of its GDP on climate resilience compared to wealthier nations facing similar threats. This disparity isn’t accidental; it’s a consequence of a global economic system that externalizes climate costs, leaving those least responsible to bear the brunt.
Think about the cascading effects. The increasing frequency of extreme weather events disrupts economic activity, damages infrastructure already strained, and displaces populations, further destabilizing communities. As scholar Dr. Siri Juthamongkol, whose work focuses on Southeast Asian urban development, argues, ‘Climate change isn’t just an environmental issue; it’s a social justice issue, exacerbating existing inequalities and creating new vulnerabilities.’ We are witnessing the creation of climate apartheid, a world where resilience is a luxury only some can afford, and where the ability to weather a storm becomes a key determinant of survival and prosperity.
This isn’t a problem that Chiang Mai—or Thailand—can solve in isolation. It requires a reimagining of global responsibility, a commitment to both aggressive mitigation and the equitable distribution of adaptation resources. The question isn’t simply about avoiding these events entirely—some level of disruption is now inevitable—but about building a world where "near misses” don’t disproportionately punish the vulnerable, and where climate change doesn’t simply reveal, but actively deepens, the existing fault lines of our global order. It’s about deciding whether we want to live in a world of shared risk, or escalating catastrophe.
