Blog I Living through climate change in Scotland

Scotland aims to reach Net Zero emissions by 2045, five years ahead of the UK and EU, driven by the growing threat of climate change. The International Union for Conservation of Nature predicts up to 500,000 climate-related deaths by 2050, including accidents close to home. Storms, floods, and infrastructure failures are no longer distant threats- they’re happening here and now.

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Storm Babet damage

I’m Nadja, a remote Masters’ student in Sustainable Energy Solutions and Digital Student Ambassador at UHI North, West and Hebrides. I’m passionate about renewable energy technology, in the resilience of small communities, and in the sustainable project delivery of energy infrastructure. We rely on electricity today and will rely on it tomorrow and the day after that. The question is, will our infrastructure hold up under the pressures of a changing climate?

We’ve all seen alarming pictures of tornadoes and floods in faraway places. But would you ever expect to face such events here? And if so, how would you prepare? Would your house survive those high winds and non-stop rain? Usually, those thoughts fade away, replaced by more immediate worries- like what’s for dinner tonight.

In October 2023, we were hit by Storm Babet. Do you remember it? It had already been a very wet month until the 18th, and then the rain just would not stop. In numerous places across the British Isles, those next three days brought more continuous rain than any similar period since 1890. Though the winds were less strong-around 60mph-than those of Storm Eowyn this January, which reached a maximum of 114mph recorded in Ireland, the impact was still devastating.

When you are already living in a remote location in the Highlands, with only one or maybe two possible ways to reach “civilisation” and get some groceries, it is one of the worst nightmares when these limited connections become closed. And this is exactly what Babet did just south of Oban. Many of the coastal communities are connected to one another through rather old stone bridges that could not withstand the enormous amounts of water running down the valleys towards the sea.

On one particular Saturday, the heavy downpour coincided with a spring high tide and a flood tide caused by air pressure changes, making the many coastal roads even less passable than they would have been with just heavy rain. That morning, I picked up my colleagues in the minivan, and we drove carefully towards our workplace, about 30 minutes south of Oban. But we never made it there. Only a few hundred metres before our destination, I decided not to go any further to avoid damage to the car and to keep everyone safe. It was one of my shortest workdays so far. We turned back, and everyone was carefully dropped off at home. Other colleagues who got to the offices earlier had a very stressful day managing the resort’s current and expected visitors. ‘DO NOT TRAVEL’ was THE message of the day.

One day later, the council and police shut down two of those small stone bridges I mentioned earlier, within a few hours of each other. They were either falling apart or basically just had the uppermost tarmac layer left. It was remarkable that they had not already collapsed with lorries crossing them. The closure of those two bridges put the council in a real pickle: emergency access routes.

One of the bridges led to an island- with no alternative access- so the council had to focus its initial efforts on getting this bridge back open. At the same time, a very wonky farm track along a small gorge was made a little less wonky with some gravel, so that emergency services could reach areas south of Kilmelford. Although there are emergency services located further south, in Lochgilphead, and Kilmelford is about halfway, a major landslide had blocked that road. It took the construction of a new road and more than half a year to clear it. However, the council responded quickly and provided well-communicated roadwork updates online.

Did you know that some businesses are still, in 2025, waiting for their insurance payouts for losses caused by the floods from Babet? And more storms have hit the European Atlantic coast since then, such as Eowyn, an extratropical cyclone. In the UK! I don’t remember such bad events from my childhood. Do you?

Studying remotely is nice, yes, but only when you have stable WIFI and a roof on your head, and when you are not getting swept away, literally. So, as I sit here in my (thankfully dry) bungalow, clutching a cup of tea and eyeing the slightly wonky roof tiles, I can’t help but wonder, what’s next? Another Eowyn? A Babet 2.0? Maybe I should start reinforcing my study desk, so it doubles as an emergency raft.

But in all seriousness, these storms remind us that the climate is changing, and we need to adapt. Whether it’s storm-proofing our homes, cutting back on energy use, or finally figuring out how to recycle that mysterious "non-recyclable" plastic, we all have a part to play. For now, maybe we should all take up kayaking as a hobby. As a student of sustainable energy, I’ve learned one thing: the future is unpredictable, so you need a sense of humour to weather the storm. (Pun fully intended).