Letter from the end of the world

INTERNATIONAL
Alan Fisher reports from deep inside
the Arctic Circle, where hidden treasures
are being fought for

Photograph by Alan Fisher

Longyearbyen is at the end of the world. It's in the far north of Norway, deep inside the Arctic Circle. The administrative centre of the Svalbard archipelago, it was first mentioned in Icelandic texts more than 800 years ago, when it was described as the land of the cold coasts. At the beginning of the last century, Longyearbyen was a mining town and what lies beneath is once again attracting huge international interest.
     The Arctic is warming far faster than the global average, and as the polar icecaps begin to melt, it makes the Arctic's hidden treasures much more accessible. It is estimated that under the frozen landscape, there's enough oil, and more particularly natural gas, to meet all the world's demands for three years. Stretch that over the lifetime of an oil or gas well and suddenly it becomes clear why a number of countries are laying claim to huge swathes of the Arctic.
     Russia planted a flag in the seabed at the North Pole in 2007 in a firm statement of intention. The Danes also claim the Pole is theirs. The United Nations has set 13 May as a deadline in the race for the Arctic. By then countries must outline how far they think their territory extends. 
     According to the Convention on the Law of the Sea, all coastal states automatically have a continental shelf stretching 200 nautical miles or 370 kilometres from the coast. However, many countries, including Norway, have continental shelves that extend further and so the UN will decide where the lines should be drawn. 
     Longyearbyen is a pretty place, with brightly coloured houses. It now makes its money as a tourist attraction for people who enjoy winter activities and for those who wish to visit the university. It's home to about 2,000 people in total.
     As the snow begins to fall I walk with Dirk Notz, a German research scientist and an expert on the state of Arctic ice. He is aware of the rise in temperatures but he's worried that the world's last great wilderness will be changed in the pursuit of the oil and gas deep below the surface: 'If we allow drilling, open the shipping lanes, allow tourists to swamp previously inaccessible areas, then the Arctic will become just another place on earth rather than something special. Those involved in profiting from global warming are never those who suffer from global warming.' As we stand in the chilly wind and bright light of late afternoon, we talk about our children and the legacy that will be left for them. 'In years gone by, countries exploited their colonies and drained their resources to make themselves richer. We are doing this now with the future.'
     He tells me that so many of the world's climate drivers originate at the poles and that over-development in the far north will lead to more Arctic ice disappearing and that in turn will have an impact on climate change from Africa to Asia: 'We have been talking about how we need money to fight this problem but there were never the funds to do anything substantial. Now governments are producing billions of dollars in days. They see things only in three or four year election cycles. This needs a longer term plan. We need to de-politicise the issue.' 
     In Longyearbyen things are slowly turning to spring. The temperature is creeping above freezing and the ice and snow on the streets is melting. It's a familiar change for the people who live here. They just don't want it to be a permanent one.