Menu Menu
[gtranslate]

Who pays the price for natural disasters like Cyclone Alfred? 

Race, class, and resilience continue to shape the climate crisis, as Australia’s East coast is hit by a deadly typhoon. 

In the early days of March, Australia’s east coast – home to the country’s most populous cities including Sydney and Brisbane – was hit by a storm that, despite being downgraded to a tropic low, left a significant trail of devastation in its path.

Cyclone Alfred has resulted in widespread power outages, with approximately 350,000 properties across Queensland and New South Wales plunged into darkness. The body of a 61-year-old man was also recovered from flood waters on Sunday.

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has warned locals of continued wild weather and risks from flooding.

‘The situation in Queensland and New South Wales remains very serious due to flash flooding and heavy winds,’ he told the public on Sunday.

‘Heavy rainfall, damaging wind gusts and coastal surf impacts are expected to continue over the coming days.’

As coverage of the typhoon continues to dominate the international news cycle, the familiar patterns of response are already emerging.

While all natural disasters like Cyclone Aflred are indiscriminate in their formation, their impacts are profoundly uneven, shedding light on the deep-seated fissures of race, class, and socio-economic status within global society.

The storm has already exposed weaknesses in Australia’s vital infrastructure, as thousands of residents face flood damage to homes and cars.

Queensland Premier David Crisafulli described power outages in the state as the ‘largest ever loss of power’ from a natural hazard.

Australia’s increasing vulnerability to these kinds of environmental events is a reminder of the escalating climate crisis. Rising sea levels, intensifying cyclones, and unpredictable weather patterns have become somewhat of a norm, and these changes disproportionately affect indigenous communities – especially those in Northern Australia where Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples constitute about 30% of the population.

Amongst these communities, a profound connection to the land means environmental disruption threatens not just homes and livelihoods, but cultural and spiritual identities.

‘As climate change worsens,’ writes Cheryl Desha, visiting professor at the School of Engineering and Built Environment, Griffith University, ‘extreme weather will become more frequent and severe. We must minimise the risks of infrastructure failing during these events.’

Marginalised communities often reside in the most vulnerable areas, where infrastructure is inadequate and where they’re left more susceptible to the ravages of storms like Alfred.

For Indigenous Australians, the legacy of colonialism has manifested in systemic disadvantages, including limited access to quality housing, healthcare and education – all of these factors compound a community’s vulnerability during natural disasters.

Australia’s east coast has also faced mounting housing issues in recent years. Skyrocketing property prices have pushed economically disadvantaged groups into flood-prone zones, and exacerbated spatial inequality, with inner city areas vastly overpopulated.

It’s also crucial to remember the damage that flooding does to services beyond residential areas. Locals will face shut down hospitals, clinics, and schools – services that marginalized communities already struggle to access.

Medical resources are already stretched thin in the face of natural disaster, and those without private healthcare or reliable transportation find themselves at the back of the line for treatment. Meanwhile, children from low-income families lose crucial school time, widening the educational gap between the rich and the poor.

Compounding these issues is the fact that the media narrative often centers on middle-class suburbs, while Indigenous and working-class communities receive only passing mentions. When marginalized groups are erased from the story, they’re also left out of policy decisions. Aid doesn’t reach them as quickly. Reconstruction efforts ignore their needs. And the cycle of vulnerability continues.

Climate justice isn’t just about reducing emissions – it’s about dismantling the systems that make disasters deadlier for some than for others. That means investing in resilient, affordable housing. It means ensuring that evacuation plans prioritize the most vulnerable. It means amplifying Indigenous knowledge of land management and climate adaptation.

This is arguably the only way to ensure that when natural disaster strikes again (which it inevitably will), the response is swift, equitable, and effective.

Accessibility