Arctic warming continues to threaten Inuit traditions and food security

For Inuit communities in Nunavut, Northern Canada, igunaq is a traditional delicacy made most often from walrus meat, though seal or caribou are also sometimes used. Families bury the meat caught during the summer in the ground and let it ferment for months, so it becomes softened and strongly flavored.

When families now go to collect their igunaq, it is often moldy. The permafrost that once preserved the meat is thawing, and the ground is no longer cold enough to stop it from spoiling.

The Arctic is warming faster than the rest of the world, with one study suggesting it’s happening at nearly four times the global rate.

“Wherever you see the largest thinning of sea ice is where we see the largest warming,” explains Bruno Tremblay, an Arctic climate scientist at McGill University.

“It’s something that we expected, and we knew about, and we see it happening.”

The loss of sea ice, reduced snowfall, and shorter summers are disrupting Inuit hunting patterns that have endured for centuries. Trusted routes once passed down through generations are now unsafe or no longer exist.

“Wind will blow from the south,” Tremblay says, and “ice will break off from the coast,” leaving hunters stranded.

He also notes a shift in marine life. “We’re seeing Atlantic salmon where you used to have Arctic char.”

“Arctic char is more nutritious; it spawns and returns to the ocean, whereas the Atlantic salmon dies after spawning,” making it a less sustainable food source.

The walrus meat typically used for igunaq is also very nutritious, as it is particularly high in omega-3 fatty acids, which contribute to a healthy diet. As traditional country foods become harder and more unreliable to access, Inuit communities are increasingly having to rely on store-bought options.

It is “heartbreaking,” says Veldon Coburn, faculty chair of the Indigenous Relations Initiative and associate professor at McGill University. He recalls visiting Nunavut and seeing children lining up outside the only food store in each community to buy sugary, processed foods.

He adds that obesity is rising among Inuit populations—disproportionately compared to the rest of Canada. “Indigenous peoples are more susceptible to diabetes,” making this shift even more concerning.

Food insecurity has reached crisis levels in all Inuit regions in Canada. The Indigenous Watchdog reports that 70% of Inuit adults in Nunavut live in food-insecure households. They note that this is six times higher than the Canadian national average.

The federal government recently pledged $1.5 billion over the next decade to honor commitments made in the Nunavut Land Agreement. The intention is to help build a sovereign Arctic with better resilience to climate change.

A significant amount of this funding is expected to support Hunters and Trappers Organizations (HTOs) in modernizing their operations in Nunavut. These organizations can help regulate harvesting practices and manage economic opportunities that arise from hunting.

“We’ve installed coastal marine radar so you can see where the ice is,” says Tremblay. “You used to go up the mountain with a walkie-talkie” to guide the hunting ships through the ice. “Now, they have a mixture of this and marine radar, so they have better technology.”

The Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami (ITK) emphasizes that any climate action strategy must include Inuit-specific food policies to protect traditional food practices, ensuring methods like igunaq are preserved and appropriately adapted—not lost to climate change.

Nevertheless, the ongoing reality is that climate change will remain an enduring challenge, with scientists like Tremblay anticipating its impacts to intensify over time.

Taya Tootoo, executive director of the Arctic Children and Youth Foundation, stresses the adaptability of Inuit communities.

But for her, “it’s another layer of trauma to know you took care of the land for so long only for it to be destroyed in such a short period of time.”

“To know that you knew what to do to take care of it, but that wasn’t enough.”

Sophie Storey is a postgraduate international journalism student at City, University of London.