As old and new methods converge, sustainability shifts from intention to action. Innovation and transcendence become the key, guiding us beyond the expected and towards a future worth preserving.
Melting polar ice and warming oceans are reshaping coastlines around the world. According to the IPCC, global sea levels could rise by around half a meter by the end of the century, depending on emission trends. That may sound modest, yet the areas at risk are among the most densely inhabited on Earth. The Low Elevation Coastal Zone covers roughly two percent of global land area but is home to more than a tenth of humanity. Islands, river deltas, and coastal cities are the most vulnerable. In Jakarta, Miami, and Dhaka, erosion, flooding, and saltwater intrusion are already part of daily life. The process is gradual rather than sudden, lapping at city edges, seeping into groundwater, and corroding shorelines from within.
Around the world, governments, researchers, and coastal communities are responding. Climate adaptation now plays an increasingly central role in many national and local strategies. People are reimagining life on a restless planet, planning and building for a warmer and wetter future, seeking ways to create systems that bend without breaking.
One response gaining attention is the use of floating, stilted, and amphibious structures. While often framed as futuristic, these approaches draw on a long history of adaptation in flood-prone and monsoon-affected regions. Their ability to rise, adjust, or remain elevated as water levels change reduces flood risk while allowing communities to remain in place, rather than retreating.
In Bangladesh, this principle applies. In many flood-prone villages, small amphibious houses are built to rise along with the water. Made from bamboo and mangrove, they float gently upward during floods and settle back as the ground dries. These simple but ingenious homes give residents a chance to stay put, even when rivers spill over their banks. Further east, across the archipelago of Southeast Asia, in the waters off Malaysia, Indonesia, and the Philippines, the nomadic Bajau have lived almost entirely on the water for thousands of years. Over generations of spending hours each day diving for fish and shellfish, even their bodies have adapted, developing larger spleens that let them hold their breath for long periods underwater. Many of the Bajau still reside on houseboats and stilted homes built from mangroves and bamboo wood. These examples show adaptations that have grown from necessity. Small and often community-based solutions that enable life in a wet and dynamic environment.
A more modern example of surface dwelling can be found in South Korea. Here, the New York-based blue tech company OCEANIX – in collaboration with UN-Habitat and the city of Busan – set out to create OCEANIX Busan, described as a prototype for a resilient and sustainable floating community. The project consists of modular platforms that can be expanded to suit the changing needs of the city. Currently, it consists of 3 platforms, complete with accommodation for 12,000 people, but it has the capacity to expand to 20 platforms with enough room for 100,000 people. Each neighborhood further integrates renewable energy production, circular waste and water treatment systems, and greenhouses for food production.
This is well and great for increasing liveable space in crowded coastal cities, but in some cases, entire cities or even the whole country face the risk of ending up underwater. This brings us to the Netherlands, which has long been at the forefront of coastal engineering. Much of the country lies below sea level and exists only because of centuries of deliberate intervention, an intricate system of dikes, pumps, reclaimed land, and constant maintenance that has quite literally kept the sea at bay. Even the name Netherlands reflects this reality, meaning low-lying land. In cities like Rotterdam and Amsterdam, experimental floating neighborhoods are emerging; parks and plazas are used as flood retention zones; and urban canals are being designed to adapt to varying water levels. Dutch engineers have learned to blend concrete defenses with natural buffers such as wetlands and reed beds. The result is a living landscape that moves with the ocean rather than against it.
While most innovations in marine living focus on the surface, the depths remain largely uncharted (we still have a better understanding of what the surface of Mars looks like compared to our own seabed). This brings us to DEEP, a UK company developing modular underwater habitats for research and extended stays. The plan is to let people live below the surface for weeks at a time, with the first missions expected in 2027. The concept is still experimental, but the hope is that these habitats could one day support marine science, restoration work, or even new forms of ocean-based living.
We are entering uncharted waters, excuse the pun, and the only thing we can truly control is how we respond. Personally, I have little desire to live permanently underwater, but as these examples show, there is no shortage of ideas for adapting to a changing ocean. The real constraints are often resources and political will, challenges that researchers, planners, and communities continue to grapple with. What is clear is that the ocean will not move for us, but perhaps we can learn to move with it.
Team Credits:
Words by Charles Westberg
Artwork by Arvid Fonsér
Credits:
1, 4, 5 & 6) Artwork by Arvid Fonsé.
2, 3, 7 & 8) Sourced online.