Refusing to fly has lost me my job as a climate researcher. It’s a price worth paying

Two weeks ago, my employer presented me with a stark ultimatum: return to my offices in Kiel, Germany, within five days, or lose my job. I am a climate researcher and since March 2023, I have been completing vital fieldwork into the social impact of climate change almost 15,000 miles away by overland routes, on the island of Bougainville off the coast of Papua New Guinea.

My fieldwork had been mired in unforeseeable problems, from natural disasters to security threats, and my employer was, unsurprisingly, unhappy that my return had been delayed by many weeks. The urgency of their request to return meant I would have to jump on a plane if I was to meet the deadline; but for me, this was not an option. I have been practising conscientious objection to flying for more than 10 years. My employer has supported me on a “slow trip” in the past. I do not boycott flying altogether, but I will only catch a plane when no other alternative exists.

This weekend, I will set sail on a cargo ship to return to Germany, travelling to East New Britain in Papua New Guinea. From there, I will cover the remaining distance to Europe by cargo ship, ferry, train and coach.

Many people have asked why it is so important for me to travel as low-carbon as possible. I have three reasons. First, I want to be consistent with my moral commitment to avoid flying. Aviation is the biggest contributor to climate change of all forms of transport, a major factor in the rise in temperatures and the extreme weather events that we are witnessing more and more frequently all around the world.

A trip by plane from Papua New Guinea to Germany produces, in 32 hours, 5.3 tonnes of CO2 per passenger. Slow travel produces approximately 12 times less (420kg). In the current state of climate emergency, wasting 4.9 tonnes of CO2 – about how much the average person in the world emits in one year – to expedite my return to Europe is not morally acceptable to me.

Second, I promised all the 1,800 participants in my research in Bougainville that I would return low-carbon. I want to keep my promise. White men (of whom I am one, as I am frequently reminded here) are often referred to as giaman – liars, fraudsters in Tok Pisin – probably with good reason given the country’s turbulent colonial past. I do not want to be seen as giaman.

Finally, and most importantly, I hope my case might put a little crack into the wall of “selfishness, greed, and apathy”, which, in the words of climate lawyer Gus Speth, is the main hindrance to stopping runaway climate change. Many people will think that it is madness to give up their dream job to avoid taking one flight. But in the current era of climate breakdown, it is, in my opinion, insane to continue with “business as usual”, when science tells us that we are either dangerously close to or past the point of collapse for major ecosystems.

I am not the type of person who likes telling others what to do. But I would like to invite people to shift the boundaries of what is considered normal within their own sphere of action. Putting responsibility on the average individual may be seen as a way to let those who are really responsible off the hook. According to Oxfam, the richest 10% in the world produce over half of emissions. Ninety companies are responsible for 63% of the world’s historic CO2 emissions. Worldwide, flying remains the prerogative of the elite – researchers from western countries included, who are likely part of the 10% producing the bulk of emissions.But eEmpirical research shows that “walking the walk” is important. Scientists who have reduced their carbon footprint are more likely to be persuasive with the public than scientists who have not, according to one study. Individual action, even if obviously ineffective in dramatically reducing carbon emissions, has been shown to have significant amplifying effects, as the individual’s “good example” is replicated and further propagated by people on their social networks.

At the time of writing, I am waiting to embark on the cargo ship on the first leg of my low-carbon journey to Europe. When I arrive in Europe in about 45 days, I will be jobless. If, on my way, I manage to persuade people that our planet is seriously endangered and that radical, extraordinary action is needed, losing my job will have been a price worth paying.

• Gianluca Grimalda, formerly senior researcher at the Kiel Institute for the World Economy, is a social scientist interested in social cohesion and adaptation to climate change

Photograph: Kalolaine Fainu/The Guardian - Toruar Island in the Saposa Islands region of Bougainville, near Papua New Guinea, where the land mass is decreasing due to rising sea levels.