We cannot develop the Himalayas as if they were the plains, or a colony in South Delhi. This must be the lesson from this year’s season of despair. The world’s youngest mountain range, made of moraine, mud and rock, has been battered by rain. It has literally come crashing down, bringing with it homes, schools, fields, roads, bridges and much of the expensive infrastructure built by governments. The cost of this destruction—besides the tragic and irreplaceable loss of human lives—will be massive. Years of public and private investment have been lost.
We know that this is because of climate change. The monsoon has become more extreme, and this year, it has combined with unseasonal western disturbances to cause cloudbursts and intense rain events, and cause devastations. But it is not only about climate change. We continue to build in these fragile and vulnerable regions without any regard for their ecology. This is what must change.
So, what needs to be done? First and foremost, policy and practice must accept that the Himalayas require a separate development plan. Yes, this region requires infrastructure—hydropower, roads and construction of various kinds—but they must be planned with the understanding that this region is fragile and is part of the youngest mountain range in the world. Development here must double as a climate adaptation strategy.
Second, we must accept that there are limits to development in this region. The carrying capacity— where to construct and by how much—needs to be planned and enforced. Consider the growth of urban settlements. There is no city master plan that is maintained or implemented in this region. Growth is haphazard and unplanned, with no regard for the nature of these precarious, unstable slopes. According to official estimates, the overall population in the Himalayan states has increased only 1.5 times between 1971 and 2021, while the urban population has jumped fourfold. Even this is likely an underestimation, as the census data is outdated. So, each urban settlement must be developed based on a plan that accounts for vulnerable areas, such as slopes and flood zones that must not be settled. It needs building codes, and water and sewage systems tailored for the terrain.
A plan is also needed for managing the seasonal tourism boom, when populations spike as people rush to the cooler climes of the mountains. It is important that this tourist economy does not destroy the hill towns by turning them into overcrowded, dirty and polluted places that we run away from. Most importantly, this master plan must be put in the public domain and strictly implemented. Local people understand the risks better than anyone else. So, they must be made partners in this development.
Third, because there are limits to development in this region, economic growth here must be pursued differently. The Himalayas cannot replicate the economic models of the plains. They need a development strategy that can optimise and add value to their enormously rich ecology. In other words, it needs investment in economic activities that will do more with less, such as value-added horticulture, growing medicinal and other high-value plants and supporting local manufacturing so that there is employment and well-being. It is not as if governments have not thought of this—Sikkim’s orchid project, Uttarakhand’s medicinal plant project and Himachal Pradesh’s apple cultivation project, are all examples. But this economic plan with a difference is getting lost in the rush of development at any cost and fast.
Don’t get me wrong. The region needs development, it needs infrastructure, but this must be based on ecological limits. Currently, the arrogance of the engineering mindset is rampant and unchecked. So, roads are being planned over riverbeds and fragile slopes. The Bindal-Rispana project, now flooded in Dehradun, is a case in point. The same applies to the back-to-back hydroelectric projects that are being built, literally by re-engineering the rivers. Instead, these hydroelectric projects should be planned with a focus on their cumulative environmental impact, so that their number can be reduced and adverse impacts mitigated. They must also supply electricity locally—not just export it to the plains—so that local economies can thrive. Similarly, road projects need extra planning to ensure they are constructed with minimal impact.
All this also means that a premium must be paid for the ecosystem services provided by the Himalayan region, including hydropower, which relies on free water as its raw material, so that these services are valued and more can be done with less. These are the mighty Himalayas. They demand our respect. Otherwise, they will continue to teach us that there are limits to our hubris and denial.