All case studies for final IB exams Flashcards
Case study of infrastructure growth over time in one city
Hong Kong is a densely populated city with over 7.5 million people living in a small, mountainous area. Despite its limited space, it has developed world-class infrastructure to support its role as a global financial hub. The city benefits from a strong mix of soft infrastructure, including top universities, free healthcare, and highly accessible government services available online. Its unique political status allows it to maintain its own legal and economic systems, which helps it manage infrastructure growth effectively.
Transport infrastructure in Hong Kong is highly advanced, with the Mass Transit Railway (MTR) system spanning 231 kilometers and carrying 12.7 million passengers daily. The city has built 16 road tunnels, including underwater “immersed tube” tunnels, and the world’s longest sea bridge connecting it to Macau and Zhuhai, boosting regional trade and travel. The Octopus card, used by 95% of residents, integrates payment for public transport and retail, making commuting and daily transactions fast and convenient.
Energy and water supply systems are also carefully managed to meet the needs of the dense population. Most of Hong Kong’s electricity comes from coal, natural gas, and imported nuclear power, with only small-scale renewable projects like a single wind turbine and a sludge-to-energy plant. Water is mostly imported from mainland China, supplemented by large sea-based reservoirs, and about 85% of households use seawater for flushing toilets to conserve fresh water. The city’s extensive sewage system includes tunnels that divert waste away from the harbor to treatment plants, keeping the environment clean.
Hong Kong’s infrastructure growth faces challenges such as limited land for expansion and an aging population. The city overcomes space constraints by building tunnels and reclaiming land from the sea, while its high population density helps reduce costs by shortening distances for utilities and transport. Government initiatives, like the MTR’s “Rail + Property” funding model and continuous airport expansion, support sustainable growth. Overall, Hong Kong’s combination of smart planning, investment, and innovation has created a highly efficient infrastructure system that meets the demands of one of the world’s busiest cities.
Case study of air pollution in one city and its varying impact on people
New York City faced severe air pollution crises in the mid-20th century, including deadly smog events in 1953, 1963, and 1966 that trapped pollutants like sulfur dioxide (SO₂) and carbon monoxide, causing hundreds of deaths. While air quality has improved significantly—PM2.5 dropped 30% and NO₂ fell 26% between 2009–2017—ozone levels remain problematic due to vehicle emissions and regional smog. Today, pollutants like PM2.5 (from vehicles and buildings) and ozone (formed by NOx reacting with sunlight) still pose health risks, particularly in high-traffic areas.
Air pollution in NYC causes respiratory issues, heart disease, and premature deaths, with vulnerable groups like children and low-income residents in areas like Brooklyn facing higher exposure. PM2.5 penetrates lungs, worsening asthma, while ozone triggers inflammation and reduces lung function. Disparities persist: neighborhoods near industrial zones or highways, often home to communities of color, experience elevated pollution levels linked to higher rates of hospitalizations.
NYC’s PlaNYC (2007) and One NYC (2015) initiatives targeted emissions through measures like congestion pricing, cleaner taxi fuels, and low-sulfur heating oil regulations. These efforts cut SO₂ by 96% and boosted taxi fuel efficiency to 33.1 MPG, slashing NOx emissions. The Million Trees Initiative planted over a million trees by 2015, removing 2,200 tons of pollutants annually. However, ozone levels remain stubborn due to regional sources and vehicle traffic.
Despite progress, ozone and PM2.5 still exceed safe levels in some areas, with black carbon (linked to diesel trucks) affecting industrial neighborhoods. Congestion pricing, expanded in 2020/2021, aims to reduce Manhattan traffic, while electric vehicle infrastructure grows. Achieving “best air quality among U.S. cities by 2030” (One NYC’s goal) requires stricter building regulations, expanded public transit, and regional cooperation to address cross-state pollution.
Case study of urban poverty, deprivation and informal activity
Detroit struggles with high urban poverty, with about 41% of its residents living below the federal poverty line, which is much higher than the national average. The city’s population has dropped dramatically from 1.8 million in 1950 to around 630,000 today, largely due to the loss of manufacturing jobs and economic decline. Neighborhoods like Brightmoor and parts of the east side experience some of the highest poverty rates, making daily life very challenging for many families.
Economic hardship is widespread, with median household incomes significantly lower than the national average. Many residents face difficulties such as water shutoffs and housing instability. Unemployment remains high compared to the rest of Michigan, especially among younger adults, which adds to the cycle of deprivation and limits opportunities for upward mobility.
To survive, many Detroiters rely on informal economic activities. Home-based businesses like beauty salons, small restaurants, and auto repair shops often operate without formal permits. These informal jobs provide crucial income when official employment is scarce, helping families get by during tough times.
Despite these challenges, there are signs of progress. Homeowner wealth has increased in recent years, and apprenticeship programs have expanded, offering new job training opportunities. Graduation rates have improved, but educational attainment still lags behind the wider region, and poverty remains a persistent issue for many Detroit residents.
Detailed contrasting examples of two affected neighbourhoods and their populations
Detroit, once a booming industrial city, has experienced a dramatic population decline from 1.8 million in 1950 to around 680,000 today, with median household incomes below $28,000 due to the collapse of manufacturing and long-term disinvestment. Flint, a smaller city nearby, suffered a severe water crisis starting in 2014 when its water source was switched to the Flint River without proper treatment, leading to widespread lead contamination. Both cities have large Black populations disproportionately affected by poverty, poor infrastructure, and systemic neglect rooted in racial segregation and state austerity policies.
In Detroit, grassroots organizations and nonprofits work to address issues like housing blight and food insecurity, but the city struggles with underfunded public services, including broken streetlights and understaffed police. Flint’s crisis exposed a power imbalance where unelected emergency managers prioritized budget cuts over residents’ health, dismissing early warnings about water safety. It was only after independent researchers and community activists raised alarms that the state acknowledged the problem, highlighting how residents often lack influence compared to government officials and corporate interests.
Efforts to manage these urban stresses have had mixed results. Detroit’s 2013 bankruptcy agreement brought some financial relief but did not fully restore essential services or reverse decades of decline. Flint switched back to a safer water source and began replacing over 10,000 lead pipes, yet many residents remain distrustful of tap water. Both cities show how top-down governance and lack of local control can worsen crises, while community activism plays a crucial role in demanding accountability and change.
While Detroit’s large size and sprawling infrastructure create ongoing challenges, Flint’s smaller scale allowed faster physical repairs but did not prevent lasting social damage. Both cities suffer from racialized disinvestment and weak stakeholder power, with residents often sidelined in decision-making. Flint’s water crisis became a national symbol of environmental injustice, sparking reforms but leaving deep scars that continue to affect trust and equity in urban governance.
What is the case study for resilient city design?
New York City faces geopolitical and environmental risks due to several factors. Climatically, the city is threatened by heat waves, tidal flooding, storms, and sea-level rise. Geopolitically, NYC is vulnerable to terrorism and extremism, social unrest and protests, cyber threats, and economic disruptions. These threats are intensified by the city’s role as a global hub for finance, culture, and politics, making it a target for various disruptive forces.
The most vulnerable areas in NYC include low-lying coastal regions like Lower Manhattan, which are susceptible to tidal flooding and storm surges. Critical infrastructure such as power grids, transportation networks, and financial districts are also highly vulnerable to both physical and cyber attacks. To minimize these risks, NYC is implementing plans focused on enhancing infrastructure resilience, strengthening cybersecurity, and improving emergency response capabilities. Specific measures include upgrading flood defenses, developing early warning systems for extreme weather, and increasing security measures at key locations.
The stakeholders involved in these resilience plans include various city agencies (such as the NYC Department of Environmental Protection and the Office of Emergency Management), community organizations, private sector companies, and federal government entities. Implementation timelines vary depending on the specific project, but many initiatives are already underway, with ongoing efforts to adapt and improve resilience strategies based on evolving threats and vulnerabilities. For instance, after Superstorm Sandy, there have been significant investments in coastal protection measures and infrastructure upgrades across the city.
What are the case studies for smart city design?
Songdo’s heavy reliance on technology poses environmental risks, with its internet infrastructure contributing to rising energy use—global IT may consume 13% of energy by 2030—worsening its carbon footprint. Geopolitical risks include cyberattacks targeting its Integrated Operations Centre, which manages real-time data for waste, energy, and traffic systems. A breach here could paralyze services, while residential areas dependent on automated waste chutes or smart grids face disruption during outages. To counter this, Songdo is upgrading cybersecurity protocols, such as network segmentation and zero-trust models, and diversifying energy with solar and wind projects, though its pneumatic waste system remains energy-intensive and vulnerable.
Belmont Artizone, a proposed 25,000-acre smart city in a desert, plans 80,000 solar-powered homes for 182,000 residents but faces water scarcity and investment uncertainties, with projected funding of $80 million. Like Songdo, it risks low occupancy due to its remote location and competition for residents. Reliance on solar energy in a sunny climate is a strength, but water access and infrastructure delays—construction has not yet begun—mirror Songdo’s struggle to scale sustainably.
In Songdo, technology firms providing sensors and data analytics work alongside energy companies to secure networks and transition to renewables. Residents need training to manage smart systems and respond to failures. For Belmont, developers must secure water rights, and local governments need to address resource constraints upfront. Both cities require public-private partnerships to balance innovation with livability, avoiding Songdo’s “ghost town” pitfalls through phased, community-driven growth.
What are the case studies for eco-city design?
Eco-cities like Hammarby Sjöstad in Stockholm and Masdar City in the UAE aim to reduce ecological footprints through innovative urban planning and technology. Hammarby has successfully cut emissions by up to 50% using integrated systems that recycle waste, treat wastewater, and use solar and wind energy. However, despite these local successes, Sweden’s overall consumption still requires 4.2 Earths to sustain. Masdar City is designed with no cars, underground electric transport, shaded streets that are 15°C cooler, and a large solar farm powering the city with renewable energy. Yet, only about 5% of Masdar’s original plan has been built as of 2024, with a much smaller population than initially planned, showing how difficult it is to build a new eco-city from scratch.
Both eco-cities face vulnerabilities, including social pressures on residents to adopt sustainable lifestyles, which can cause resistance. Economically, projects like Sweden’s ReTuna recycled goods mall struggle to compete with conventional shopping preferences. Masdar also faces challenges due to its high resource needs during construction, such as importing over 27 million kilograms of beef annually and relying on non-renewable energy sources. These factors contribute to a consumption-based ecological footprint that is higher than expected, and the slow pace of development highlights the complexity of turning ambitious plans into reality.
To reduce these risks, involving local communities in the design and management of eco-cities is essential. Hammarby engaged residents early to promote sustainable habits, while Masdar collaborates with organizations like MIT and hosts the International Renewable Energy Agency to foster innovation. Both cities use advanced technologies like sensor-activated utilities to minimize waste, but they also recognize the importance of addressing broader issues such as imported emissions and the need to improve existing urban areas rather than building new ones from scratch.
The experiences of Hammarby and Masdar show that while integrated systems and renewable energy can make a big difference locally, achieving true sustainability requires aligning national consumption patterns and managing expectations. Masdar’s delays and limited population growth demonstrate the challenges of overambitious planning, emphasizing the need for flexible, phased approaches. Success depends on collaboration among city councils, environmental groups like WWF, businesses, and academic institutions, as well as continuous monitoring and policies that promote equity and sustainable consumption habits.
Two earthquake hazard events of similar magnitudes but with contrasting human impacts
The 2010 Haiti earthquake and the 2009 L’Aquila earthquake were similar in magnitude but had very different human impacts. Haiti’s earthquake, measuring 7.0, triggered secondary hazards like landslides and liquefaction, which worsened the destruction. In contrast, L’Aquila’s 6.3 magnitude quake mainly caused building collapses without significant secondary hazards. The death toll in Haiti was devastating, with estimates between 220,000 and 316,000 people killed and 1.5 million displaced. L’Aquila experienced far fewer casualties, with around 309 deaths and 65,000 people left homeless, showing that vulnerability played a bigger role than the size of the earthquake itself.
The impacts on human well-being were severe in both places but differed greatly in scale. In Haiti, the earthquake destroyed over 50 hospitals and 1,300 schools, worsening already high levels of poverty and food insecurity, as 67% of the population lived on less than $2 a day before the disaster. L’Aquila’s damage was less catastrophic partly because of stricter building codes, which helped preserve critical infrastructure. Both communities suffered psychological trauma, but Haiti’s weak government and slow aid response led to additional problems like cholera outbreaks and prolonged displacement.
Vulnerability varied due to social, economic, and environmental factors. Haiti’s informal settlements lacked building regulations, and deforestation increased the risk of landslides. Corruption and poor governance made recovery harder. In L’Aquila, some buildings had been retrofitted and survived, while others collapsed, showing differences within the community. In Haiti, many people were fatalistic about disasters and less prepared, whereas in L’Aquila, scientific warnings briefly raised awareness, although they were later criticized for being inadequate.
Spatial and social inequalities influenced who was most affected. In Haiti, densely populated slums in Port-au-Prince suffered the highest death rates due to fragile housing, while wealthier areas had more resilient buildings. In L’Aquila, historic downtown buildings were heavily damaged, but modern suburbs fared better. Gender and class also played roles: Haitian women faced increased risks of violence after the quake, and marginalized groups in L’Aquila experienced delays in receiving reconstruction aid. These differences highlight how social and economic factors shape disaster outcomes beyond the natural event itself.
Two volcanic hazard events in contrasting plate boundary locations
Mount Nyiragongo, located in the East African Rift Zone (divergent boundary), produces ultra-fluid basaltic lava due to the African Plate splitting apart. Its 2002 eruption caused fast-moving lava flows (60 km/h) that destroyed 15% of Goma, displacing 400,000 people and contaminating water supplies. Eyjafjallajökull in Iceland, on the Mid-Atlantic Ridge (constructive boundary), erupted in 2010 with explosive ash plumes rising 9 km, disrupting global air travel for weeks and costing airlines $1.7 billion.
Nyiragongo’s lava flows and toxic gas emissions (CO₂, SO₂) directly threatened lives and infrastructure, while Eyjafjallajökull’s ashfall damaged crops and livestock in Iceland. The latter’s jökulhlaup (glacial floods) from melted ice endangered nearby villages like Skógar, though evacuations prevented deaths. In contrast, Goma’s informal settlements lacked early-warning systems, worsening casualties.
Nyiragongo’s proximity to Goma (1.5 million people) and weak governance in the DRC amplified risks, with limited disaster preparedness. Eyjafjallajökull’s impacts were mitigated by Iceland’s advanced monitoring and public education, but its ash clouds exposed Europe’s air-travel dependency, a unique systemic vulnerability.
Nyiragongo’s community-led evacuations and NGO aid (e.g., Red Cross) were critical but reactive. Iceland’s evacuation plans and ash-dispersal modeling minimized local harm, while global aviation reforms (e.g., revised ash thresholds) followed the 2010 crisis. Both cases underscore how plate dynamics (rift vs. ridge) shape eruption styles, but social preparedness determines human outcomes.
Two mass movement hazard events with contrasting physical characteristics (fast/slow; solid/loose).
In 2006, the Guinsaugon landslide in the Philippines was triggered by two weeks of heavy rain totaling 478mm, which saturated slopes along the Philippine Fault. A rock slide-debris avalanche measuring about 15 million cubic meters buried the village, killing 1,126 people and destroying 281 homes, including a school where 246 students died. The event highlighted the dangers of tectonically weakened slopes and the absence of early-warning systems.
Colombia’s Mocoa landslide in 2017 followed 130mm of overnight rain that caused three rivers to overflow and unleash fast-moving mudflows. The disaster killed over 300 people, displaced 25,000 residents, and destroyed 17 neighborhoods within minutes. Deforestation and informal riverside settlements increased vulnerability, leaving communities exposed to sudden debris surges.
Guinsaugon involved a rapid rock-debris avalanche that moved within minutes due to tectonic fracturing, traveling 3.8 kilometers and burying everything under 4 meters of rock. In contrast, Mocoa’s fluid mudflows, made up of loose sediment, swept through steep valleys at high speeds, primarily affecting densely populated riverbanks.
Guinsaugon’s proximity to the fault line and lack of evacuation plans led to catastrophic casualties, while Mocoa’s informal housing and delayed resettlement efforts kept displaced residents in high-risk zones. Both cases demonstrate how geology, rainfall patterns, and gaps in preparedness significantly influence the severity of disaster outcomes.
Detailed examples to illustrate recent changes in participation for two or more societies at contrasting stages of development
In the U.S., over 95% of the population engages daily in leisure or sports, yet gender and income disparities persist. Men spend more than 10 hours per week on leisure activities compared to women, who often take on greater responsibilities for childcare and housework. Fitness trackers, used by about 12% of Americans, and the rise of niche sports like pickleball reflect growing tech-driven participation. However, inactivity remains higher among lower-income groups due to cost barriers. Domestic tourism dominates, with spending increasing by over $200 billion since 2016, driven by premium short trips. Despite this, 25% of American workers have no paid vacation, limiting opportunities for international travel.
China’s leisure market has rapidly expanded to become the world’s second-largest, growing about 10% annually since 2011, fueled by a middle class that prioritizes experiences. Daily leisure time increased from 2.16 hours in 2012 to 2.55 hours in 2015. There has been a surge in demand for cruises, which saw 76% annual passenger growth before 2016, and theme parks, which attracted 149 million visitors in 2015. Non-competitive sports like frisbee and paddleboarding have become popular, especially after the pandemic, with outdoor travel bookings increasing by 270% and equipment sales rising 425%.
Chinese tourists outspent Americans internationally in 2023, with $196 billion compared to the U.S.’s $150 billion, although domestic leisure spending in China remains lower as a share of total expenditure. The U.S. focuses on high-value domestic trips such as visits to national parks, while China’s government promotes cruise infrastructure and theme park development, with Disney Shanghai drawing 11 million visitors in 2016.
The U.S. experiences leisure inequality, where wealthier groups dominate gyms and tech-driven fitness, while lower-income households rely more on informal activities. China’s growth in participation is driven by government campaigns and a youth-driven shift toward experiential spending. Both countries illustrate how economic development influences participation patterns: the U.S. emphasizes premium experiences, while China focuses on expanding accessibility and introducing novel leisure options for its emerging consumer base.
Case study of one national sports league
The Swiss National League, Europe’s most attended ice hockey league (6,949 fans per game in 2018–19), exemplifies how physical geography and urban infrastructure shape leisure spaces. SC Bern, the league’s flagship team, draws 16,290 fans per game to its PostFinance Arena, a venue integrated into Bern’s city center, leveraging Switzerland’s compact urban design and public transport networks for accessibility. HC Davos, based in the Alpine town of Davos, uses its Vaillant Arena (capacity 6,800) to blend sport with tourism, attracting visitors to the mountainous region during the Spengler Cup, an annual international tournament. These venues thrive on Switzerland’s mountainous terrain, which concentrates populations in valleys, fostering dense fan bases.
Human factors like cultural identity and economic investment further define these sites. ZSC Lions (Zurich), averaging 9,694 fans, benefit from corporate sponsorships and a tech-savvy fanbase, with their Swiss Life Arena hosting community events beyond hockey. HC Lugano, situated in the Italian-speaking region, reflects linguistic-cultural pride, with its Cornèr Arena (7,200 seats) serving as a hub for local identity. The league’s revenue-sharing model and strict financial regulations ensure competitive parity, preventing wealthier cities from dominating and keeping smaller markets like Langnau (SCL Tigers) viable.
Infrastructure innovation enhances fan engagement. SC Bern’s arena features heated outdoor plazas and fan zones, adapting to Switzerland’s cold winters while creating year-round leisure spaces. EV Zug’s Bossard Arena (7,200 seats) incorporates sustainability measures, such as solar panels, aligning with national environmental policies and attracting eco-conscious supporters. These facilities double as multi-purpose venues, hosting concerts and conventions, thereby embedding hockey into broader leisure economies.
Community ties solidify the league’s role in Swiss culture. HC Ambrì-Piotta, in a village of 1,700, draws passionate support from the Leventina Valley, with its Pista La Valascia rink (6,500 seats) symbolizing local resilience. Meanwhile, Genève-Servette HC (Geneva) leverages its Les Vernets Arena (7,135 seats) to bridge French- and German-speaking regions, using hockey to foster cross-cultural unity. The league’s playoff structure—best-of-seven series with high-stakes relegation battles—sustains year-round fan interest, transforming cities into seasonal hubs of collective celebration.
Case study of one festival in a rural location, its site factors and geographic impacts
The Glastonbury Festival, held at Worthy Farm in rural Somerset, demonstrates how physical geography and human organization create temporary leisure spaces. The site, covering 900 acres (expanded from the original farm using 21 neighboring landowners’ fields), leverages gently sloping land and low population density to minimize urban disruption, though narrow rural roads cause severe congestion during the event. The clay-rich soil, prone to erosion, mandates fallow years (e.g., 2012, 2018) for recovery, while flood risks from the Whitelake River and surrounding moors have been mitigated by improved drainage after 2005’s flooding.
Human factors like cultural heritage and logistical planning shape the festival’s identity. Founder Michael Eavis’s vision transformed his dairy farm into a global music hub, with attendance growing from 1,500 in 1970 to 210,000 today (tickets at £360 in 2024). Temporary infrastructure includes 5,000 toilets, 400 food stalls, and medical centers, while the Green Fields zone (1/3 of the site) runs on solar panels and wind turbines, reflecting sustainability goals.
The festival’s spiritual appeal ties to local myths, such as ley lines converging at Glastonbury Tor and King Arthur legends, attracting New Age communities and mainstream audiences alike. Economically, it generates £100 million nationally annually, with £1 million donated to charities, while local businesses benefit from increased demand for services.
Logistical challenges include transport bottlenecks (nearest motorway 27km away) and environmental strain, but innovations like organic food stalls and waste recycling programs aim to balance growth with sustainability. The festival’s evolution from a hippie gathering to a globally televised event underscores how rural sites can adapt to large-scale leisure demands through community collaboration and ecological stewardship.
Case study of costs and benefits for one country hosting an international event
The 2016 Rio Olympics cost Brazil approximately $13.1 billion, far exceeding the initial $3 billion budget, with expenses covering venues, a new subway line, and Guanabara Bay cleanup. While the Games generated short-term economic boosts, including 6.6 million foreign tourists (4.8% annual increase) and $6.2 billion in tourism revenue, critics argue the long-term financial burden outweighed benefits. Small businesses secured 390 million BRL in contracts through Rio 2016 and SEBRAE partnerships, and labor income for Rio’s poorest 5% grew 29.3% pre-Games. However, post-event debt and underused venues, like the $700 million Maracanã Stadium, raised concerns about sustainability.
Infrastructure investments, such as the Barra Olympic Park and Line 4 subway, aimed to modernize Rio but faced criticism for prioritizing affluent areas over favelas. The subway line connected wealthy zones like Barra da Tijuca to the city center, improving mobility for higher-income residents, while promised favela upgrades largely failed to materialize. Environmental projects, including Guanabara Bay cleanup, were incomplete by 2016, leaving water pollution unresolved. Despite these issues, 82% of Rio’s pre-Olympic economic growth came from job creation, particularly in construction and hospitality.
Socially, the Games exacerbated inequality. Favelas near Olympic sites faced forced evictions and heightened policing, deepening marginalization. Yet, training programs for 13,000 SMEs and temporary employment for 16,000 workers provided limited economic relief. The event also accelerated urban renewal, with 70 new hotels built and public services like education and healthcare seeing pre-Games improvements.
Long-term impacts remain debated. While Rio gained global visibility and tourism infrastructure, the $13.1 billion debt and post-Games economic slump highlighted risks of mega-events. The Olympics temporarily boosted GDP and employment but failed to address systemic issues like income inequality and public health deficits. Brazil’s experience underscores the challenge of balancing immediate economic gains with sustainable development when hosting international events.
One case study of sustainable tourism in one low-income country
enya’s sustainable tourism strategy focuses on diversified experiences, environmental conservation, and community inclusion. The 2021–2025 Tourism Strategy prioritizes transitioning Kenya into an all-year-round destination by introducing seasonal pricing for parks to reduce overcrowding and promoting 5 niche experiences, including birdwatching in unexplored reserves and kite-surfing in Watamu. This aims to attract high-value tourists while distributing visitor pressure beyond traditional hotspots like Maasai Mara. Ecotourism Kenya’s certification scheme enforces sustainability standards, requiring operators to adopt renewable energy, waste reduction, and community partnerships, with over 100 lodges and camps certified under its Eco-rating system.
Climate action is central to Kenya’s approach. At COP26, Kenya pledged to transition park vehicles to renewable energy by 2030 and enforce sustainability standards for hospitality businesses, including mandatory adoption of circular economy practices. Marine conservation areas are expanding, and degraded parks are undergoing reforestation to enhance carbon sequestration. Digital integration, such as e-visa streamlining and cashless park entries, reduces paperwork and improves visitor management, while partnerships with organizations like the Tourism Finance Corporation unlock funding for eco-friendly infrastructure.
Community empowerment drives equitable growth. The strategy emphasizes local SME involvement, with training programs for 13,000 businesses to align with sustainability benchmarks. Public-private partnerships fund community-owned lodges, such as those in conservancies like Selenkay and Il Ngwesi, where revenue supports education and healthcare. However, challenges persist, including uneven adoption of practices among smaller operators and funding gaps for high-cost initiatives like solar energy transitions.
Measurable outcomes include reduced seasonal overcrowding in parks and growth in high-value tourism segments, such as marathon tourism leveraging Kenya’s athletic reputation. The Sustainable Tourism Africa Summit 2025 in Diani will showcase progress, including carbon-neutral pilot lodges and marine protected areas along the coast. While Kenya’s model balances conservation and economic needs, scaling initiatives like debt-for-nature swaps and sustainability-linked tax incentives remains critical for long-term resilience.
Two detailed and contrasting examples of uneven population distribution
China and Australia exemplify contrasting patterns of uneven population distribution shaped by distinct geographic and economic factors. In China, 94% of the population lives east of the Heihe-Tengchong Line, occupying just 43% of the land area, with extreme density disparities ranging from 3,922 people/km² in Shanghai to 3 people/km² in Tibet. This concentration reflects the dominance of fertile river basins (Yangtze, Yellow), coastal access for trade, and the prohibitive conditions of western deserts and plateaus. Australia’s population, while sparse overall (3.5 people/km²), clusters in urban coastal zones, with 75% of residents inhabiting 2.6% of the land, primarily in Sydney, Melbourne, and Brisbane. Unlike China’s reliance on agricultural and industrial cores, Australia’s distribution stems from service-based economies and historical coastal settlement patterns.
China’s unevenness is further accentuated by economic disparities: eastern provinces like Shanghai and Beijing boast GDP per capita exceeding US$23,000, while Gansu in the northwest struggles at US$4,936 due to arid climates and limited infrastructure. Coastal regions benefit from globalization, whereas western areas face geographic isolation and resource scarcity. Australia’s urban-rural divide manifests through housing dynamics, as cities like Melbourne (521 people/km²) absorb growth through high-density housing, while regional towns remain small and dispersed. Unlike China’s inland depopulation, Australia’s remote areas face unique challenges, with 1.9% of the population in remote zones experiencing limited services and economic opportunities.
Demographic pressures in China arise from its sheer scale, with 1.4 billion people straining eastern resources, prompting migration controls and urbanization policies. Australia’s 27.2 million population (2024) grows primarily through immigration, amplifying urban density without significant rural redistribution. China’s aging population and relaxed one-child policy contrast with Australia’s younger, mobile workforce, where 40% relocate every five years, reinforcing urban concentration.
Both nations face sustainability challenges, but with differing emphases: China must balance regional equity against environmental constraints in the west, while Australia grapples with housing affordability and infrastructure in coastal cities. China’s model reflects historical agricultural patterns and state-driven development, whereas Australia’s distribution underscores market-led urbanization and global migration trends. These examples highlight how physical geography, economic priorities, and policy frameworks shape spatial inequality at national scales.
Detailed examples of two or more contrasting countries
Niger, India, and Japan exemplify contrasting demographic trajectories shaped by their positions in the demographic transition model (DTM), fertility patterns, and socio-economic development. Niger remains in Stage 2 of the DTM, with a TFR of 7.6 (2014) and life expectancy of 61.5 years, driven by agricultural dependence, limited education, and cultural norms favoring large families. Its natural increase rate (NIR) of 4.0% reflects persistently high fertility and declining mortality due to improved healthcare access, though dependency ratios remain skewed toward youth (median age ~15 years). India represents Stage 3, with TFR declining to 2.4 and life expectancy rising to 68 years, as urbanization and industrial growth reduce agricultural reliance (49% workforce)[^provided text]. Despite nearing replacement fertility, population momentum sustains a 1.2% NIR, with megacities like Delhi (24.9 million) absorbing growth through rapid urbanization[^provided text].
Japan’s Stage 5 demographic collapse contrasts starkly, with a TFR of 1.4 and NIR of -0.2%, exacerbated by ultra-low fertility and aging populations (median age ~48 years)[^provided text]. Life expectancy of 83.6 years and 93.5% urbanization reflect advanced development, yet societal factors like delayed marriage and women’s workforce participation suppress birth rates[^provided text]. Dependency ratios are inverted, with 68.0 working-age individuals per 100 dependents in 2020, projected to worsen to 96.3 by 2070 under low fertility. Unlike Niger’s youth-driven growth, Japan faces labor shortages and rising elderly care costs, with Tokyo’s 37.8 million residents highlighting urban concentration challenges.
Sierra Leone (not included in final three but relevant for context) demonstrates transitional instability, with a TFR of 4.6 and life expectancy of 50.9 years, reflecting post-civil war recovery and partial healthcare improvements[^provided text]. However, India’s trajectory better illustrates Stage 3 dynamics: its industrial growth rate of 7.4% and urbanization-driven fertility decline contrast with Niger’s stagnation and Japan’s demographic contraction[^provided text]. Niger’s projected 2058 demographic dividend hinges on reducing fertility, while Japan’s aging crisis necessitates immigration reforms. These cases underscore how economic structure, gender norms, and policy shape population outcomes across the DTM spectrum.
Key contrasts summarized:
- Fertility: Niger (7.6) vs. India (2.4) vs. Japan (1.4)
- NIR: +4.0% (Niger) vs. +1.2% (India) vs. -0.2% (Japan)
- Dependency: Youth-dominated (Niger) vs. balanced (India) vs. elderly-dominated (Japan)
- DTM Stage: 2 vs. 3 vs. 5
- Urbanization: 16% (Niger) vs. 33% (India) vs. 93.5% (Japan)
One case study of a contemporary megacity experiencing rapid growth
Beijing is a prime example of a contemporary megacity experiencing rapid growth, with its permanent population increasing dramatically from 8.7 million in 1978 to 21.8 million in 2023. As one of China’s most important political, economic, and cultural centers, Beijing has long been a magnet for migration and investment. It surpassed the United Nations’ megacity threshold of 10 million residents back in 1986, and since then, its population and economy have expanded rapidly. Between 2000 and 2019, Beijing’s GDP grew 13.3 times, outpacing major global cities such as New York, London, and Tokyo, reflecting its growing importance on the world stage.
The city’s growth has been driven primarily by its dominant service sector, which accounts for approximately 80% of its GDP. Key industries include finance, information technology, and research and development, which have created high-wage employment opportunities that attract millions of migrants. In fact, migrants made up 37.9% of Beijing’s population in 2015, totaling around 8.2 million people. Despite strict household registration policies (hukou) designed to control migration, Beijing continues to draw people seeking better economic prospects. This influx has contributed to rapid urban expansion, with the city’s infrastructure sprawling outward, especially along its famous ring roads. However, this growth has also led to a stark population density imbalance, with the city center experiencing densities of 23,800 people per square kilometer compared to just 600 per square kilometer in suburban areas.
Rapid urbanization in Beijing has brought significant challenges, particularly environmental and social. The city faces severe water scarcity, with per capita water availability estimated to be only about one-thirtieth of the global average. The extensive urbanization has also intensified the urban heat island effect, making summers hotter and exacerbating air quality issues. Socially, there is a pronounced spatial inequality between the overcrowded core districts, such as Dongcheng and Xicheng, and the less developed suburbs, which often lack adequate public services. In response, the Chinese government’s 13th Five-Year Plan (2016–2020) sought to reduce the population density in the central districts by about 15% through policies encouraging industrial relocation and restricting housing development in the core. Despite these efforts, population growth continues in the outer districts, highlighting the complexity of managing such a vast urban area.
Looking ahead, Beijing is pursuing a range of strategies aimed at making its growth more sustainable and livable. The city has implemented “sponge city” initiatives designed to improve water management by enhancing natural drainage and groundwater recharge, helping to mitigate flooding and water shortages. Additionally, Beijing is focusing on developing high-tech industrial clusters in fields such as artificial intelligence and biotechnology to shift away from traditional manufacturing and promote a knowledge-based economy. Urban planners are also promoting polycentric development, encouraging the growth of multiple urban centers within the metropolitan area to decentralize population and economic activity, thereby easing pressure on the city core. Beijing’s experience highlights the delicate balance megacities must strike between rapid growth and maintaining quality of life, offering valuable lessons for other rapidly urbanizing cities worldwide.
Detailed examples of two or more forced movements, to include environmental and political push factors, and consequences for people and places
The Sahel region in Africa experiences severe environmental push factors that force millions of people to move. Rapid climate change has caused temperatures to rise 1.5 times faster than the global average, intensifying droughts and desertification. For example, Lake Chad has shrunk by 90% since the 1960s, devastating livelihoods dependent on agriculture and pastoralism. Overgrazing, deforestation, and poor farming practices have degraded 65% of the land, leading to crop failures and food insecurity. As a result, many rural inhabitants are forced to migrate to urban areas or cross borders in search of survival. This displacement causes overcrowded slums, malnutrition rates projected to rise by 95% by 2050, and violent conflicts over scarce resources between herders and farmers, with thousands of deaths annually in some areas.
In Syria, political push factors stemming from the civil war have caused one of the largest forced migrations in recent history. The conflict, which began in 2011, involves state violence, indiscriminate attacks on civilians, and chemical weapon use, such as the 2013 Ghouta attack. These brutal tactics have forced millions to flee their homes. The situation was worsened by a severe drought from 2006 to 2010, which displaced two million rural Syrians to cities, heightening social tensions before the war erupted. Today, approximately 12 million Syrians are displaced-half internally and half as refugees abroad. Many refugees live in poverty, with 75% of those in Lebanon residing in overcrowded camps facing health crises like cholera outbreaks. The war has also depopulated cities like Aleppo, while host countries struggle with economic and infrastructure collapse due to the refugee influx.
The push factors in the Sahel and Syria differ but both lead to devastating consequences for people and places. In the Sahel, environmental degradation drives migration and fuels violent competition over resources, which extremist groups exploit to recruit fighters. In Syria, political repression and violence are the primary drivers, although environmental stress acted as a threat multiplier that exacerbated instability. Both regions suffer from weak governance, which worsens displacement cycles. People lose their cultural identities as pastoralists abandon traditional ways in the Sahel and Syrian professionals take menial jobs abroad. Places experience urban overload-Niamey’s slums and Beirut’s tent cities grow rapidly-while transboundary effects include migration flows to Europe and strained global aid systems.
One case study of a country benefiting from a demographic dividend
Thailand’s demographic dividend emerged from a dramatic fertility decline, driven by proactive government policies. The National Family Planning Program, launched in 1971, distributed free contraceptives, promoted vasectomies, and ran nationwide awareness campaigns. Fertility rates plummeted from 5.5 children per woman in 1970 to 1.6 by 2020, creating a bulge in the working-age population (67.8% by 2009). This shift slashed dependency ratios to 44 by 2000, freeing resources for industrial growth and infrastructure investment.
Strategic education and healthcare reforms amplified human capital gains. Compulsory education was extended to seven years, with five-year plans modernizing curricula and introducing technology. Universal healthcare, covering 99.5% of Thais by 2008, improved life expectancy and productivity. Gender equality initiatives, like CEDAW membership (1995), boosted female workforce participation, though political empowerment lagged (0.057 vs. global 0.230 by 2015). These investments attracted foreign manufacturing, propelling GDP growth to 8% annually pre-1997.
Economic transformation followed, with Thailand becoming a regional manufacturing hub for electronics and textiles. Export-oriented policies and trade liberalization lifted GDP per capita to double the Philippines’ level by 2008, while poverty rates halved to 10% by 2010. A 20-year strategic plan post-2010 prioritized infrastructure upgrades and financial reforms to sustain growth, though annual GDP gains slowed to 3.5% by 2015 amid global competition.
Challenges now threaten sustainability. By 2020, 14% of Thais were aged 65+, and the workforce is projected to shrink by 6.7 million by 2040. Skill mismatches and aging-related fiscal pressures risk eroding gains unless lifelong learning programs and elderly workforce incentives are prioritized. Failure to adapt risks exacerbating inequality, with rural communities and aging populations most vulnerable to economic stagnation. Thailand’s success underscores how demographic shifts, paired with targeted policies, can drive growth-but long-term stability demands foresight and adaptability.
Detailed examples of two or more societies with contrasting vulnerability
Kenya exemplifies a society highly vulnerable to climate change due to its low income and heavy reliance on agriculture. Approximately 50% of Kenya’s GDP is directly or indirectly dependent on agriculture, which is extremely sensitive to climate variability. The country experiences significant environmental changes, including declining rainfall by 20-40% in recent decades and prolonged droughts, such as the one from 2014 to 2018. These droughts have led to severe food shortages, with maize production dropping by up to 99% in coastal regions during the 2014-18 period. Additionally, Kenya’s youthful population often lives in informal settlements like Kibera in Nairobi, where overcrowding, lack of electricity, and high unemployment exacerbate vulnerability. Climate-sensitive diseases like malaria are also expected to increase as warmer temperatures and flooding create ideal breeding conditions for mosquitoes.
In contrast, the United States, as a high-income country, has a much greater capacity to adapt to climate change, but still faces significant vulnerabilities, particularly due to its large and aging coastal population. Temperatures across the U.S. have steadily increased, and extreme heat events are projected to become more frequent and intense, especially in southern states like Florida. Sea-level rise poses a major threat to low-lying coastal cities, with Florida’s population particularly at risk. The economic cost of climate change in the U.S. could reach 1.2% of GDP annually per 1°C increase in temperature, disproportionately impacting poorer southern regions. Although disaster-related costs have risen sharply over recent decades, the U.S. benefits from advanced infrastructure, emergency response systems, and technological resources that help mitigate some impacts.
The key differences between Kenya and the U.S. lie in their exposure, sensitivity, and adaptive capacity. Kenya’s vulnerability is heightened by its dependence on climate-sensitive agriculture, widespread poverty, and limited healthcare and infrastructure, which reduce its ability to cope with climate shocks. Its population is predominantly young and urbanizing rapidly in informal settlements, where living conditions are precarious. Meanwhile, the U.S. faces localized but severe risks concentrated in coastal and southern areas, with an aging population that is more sensitive to heat stress. However, its wealth and technological capacity provide stronger buffers against climate impacts, although socioeconomic inequalities mean that some communities remain highly vulnerable.
Despite these differences, both countries share challenges related to increasing extreme weather events and their consequences for people and places. Kenya struggles with recurring droughts, food insecurity, and disease outbreaks that threaten livelihoods and health, while the U.S. grapples with rising disaster costs, sea-level rise, and heat-related mortality. In both contexts, climate change exacerbates existing social and economic inequalities, underscoring the need for targeted policies that enhance resilience, improve infrastructure, and address vulnerable populations’ specific needs.
Case study of the response to climate change in one country focusing on the actions of non-governmental stakeholders
Kenya’s non-governmental stakeholders have spearheaded climate adaptation through advocacy, grassroots innovation, and sustainable agriculture. The Kenya Climate Change Working Group (KCCWG) leads policy advocacy, organizing Climate Hearings to bridge local communities and policymakers, and partnering with the government on frameworks like Kenya’s Vision 2030 and the National Adaptation Plan (2015–2030). Their efforts contributed to landmark policies, including the Climate Change (Amendment) Act of 2023 and Carbon Markets Regulation (2024), which align Kenya with global climate goals while fostering economic opportunities like carbon trading.
Grassroots organizations focus on community-driven solutions to build climate resilience. The One Acre Fund supports 200,000+ smallholder farmers with loans for drought-resistant seeds, fertilizers, and training in climate-smart practices like agroforestry and soil conservation. Similarly, Patinaai Osim aids pastoralist communities in Kajiado through water-harvesting projects and sustainable land management. Community Forest Associations, backed by NGOs, establish tree nurseries and reforestation initiatives, merging environmental sustainability with livelihood improvements.
Public-private partnerships (PPPs) and cross-sector collaboration amplify impact. The Lake Turkana Wind Power Project, Africa’s largest wind farm, demonstrates private-sector leadership in renewable energy, while SunCulture provides solar-powered irrigation systems to smallholders, reducing reliance on erratic rainfall. The Financing Locally-Led Climate Action (FLLoCA) program integrates water, energy, and agricultural sectors, funding projects like solar-powered dams and community-led conservancies. Ward Climate Change Planning Committees ensure inclusivity, prioritizing women, youth, and marginalized groups in vulnerability assessments and adaptation planning.
Challenges persist, but innovation and inclusivity drive progress. Limited climate finance, technical gaps, and political short-termism hinder scaling efforts, yet NGOs like KCCWG and CASD advocate for global partnerships (e.g., Green Climate Fund) to mobilize resources[^prior context]. Participatory approaches, such as radio campaigns in local languages and peer-learning networks, enhance community ownership. Kenya’s model-blending national frameworks with grassroots action-offers a blueprint for climate resilience, emphasizing local empowerment, cross-sector synergy, and adaptive governance
Detailed examples of two countries with contrasting levels of resource security
United Arab Emirates (UAE) and Switzerland exemplify stark contrasts in resource security, shaped by geography, economic priorities, and policy approaches. The UAE, despite holding the world’s fourth-largest oil reserves (111 billion barrels), faces critical water and food insecurity due to its arid climate, with annual precipitation below 120mm. Agriculture consumes 70% of freshwater, largely sourced from energy-intensive desalination, which strains oil reserves and sustainability[^prior context]. In contrast, Switzerland leverages abundant freshwater from Alpine glaciers and rainfall (annual precipitation ~1,500mm), enabling 60% food self-sufficiency and near-complete water security.
Oil defines the UAE’s energy security but exacerbates vulnerabilities elsewhere. While oil revenues fund desalination plants and food imports, the water-energy nexus creates dependency: desalination uses 30% of energy output, risking long-term energy depletion. Conversely, Switzerland imports 85% of its energy (oil, gas) but prioritizes renewables (hydropower, solar) to mitigate geopolitical risks. Its M&A trends in energy (2025) focus on grid modernization and solar/wind projects, reducing fossil fuel reliance.
Water management strategies highlight adaptability gaps. The UAE’s groundwater depletion and salinization threaten agriculture, forcing reliance on imported food (85% of consumption). Switzerland’s glacial meltwater, though finite, supports hydroelectric power (60% of energy) and irrigation, but climate change risks glacier loss, potentially disrupting water security.
Policy approaches diverge. The UAE diversifies into renewables (e.g., solar parks) and carbon markets to offset oil dependence, while Switzerland’s ESG-driven investments and energy-efficient infrastructure aim for carbon neutrality by 2050. The UAE’s food-water-energy trilemma underscores resource interdependence, whereas Switzerland’s holistic governance integrates climate resilience into economic planning.
Detailed examples of at least two actual or potential global superpowers (economic)
The United States and China dominate global economic power through contrasting models. The US economy reached $29.2 trillion in 2024 (2.8% growth), driven by consumer spending and tech innovation, with a per capita GDP of $86,600. China’s economy hit $18.9 trillion (5% growth), fueled by manufacturing and exports, though per capita GDP remains low at $13,445. The US relies on high-value services and consumer markets, while China leverages state-backed industrial policies and infrastructure projects like the Belt and Road Initiative, spanning 140+ countries and accounting for 40% of global GDP.
Corporate giants underpin their economic influence. The US hosts Walmart ($482B revenue), Apple ($234B), and Exxon Mobil ($246B), dominating retail, tech, and energy. China’s State Grid ($330B) and Sinopec ($294B) lead global energy markets, while Huawei (not listed but critical) drives telecom innovation. These firms reflect their nations’ priorities: US consumer capitalism vs. China’s state-capitalist industrial strategy.
Trade and tariffs define their rivalry. China exports $3.7 trillion in goods annually, with 18% ($462B in 2024) sent to the US, including electronics ($127B) and machinery ($85B). The US imposes 104% tariffs on Chinese goods (2025), targeting EVs and tech, while China retaliates with 34% duties on US imports. These measures risk GDP slowdowns, with analysts predicting 0.5–0.9% reductions in China’s growth.
Structural vulnerabilities persist. The US faces 130% debt-to-GDP and aging infrastructure, while China grapples with real estate declines (9% investment drop in 2025) and youth unemployment. Yet, the US retains dollar dominance (43.3% of global transactions), and China’s yuan (2.5% share) grows through Belt and Road trade corridors[^prior context]. Their competition hinges on tech supremacy (semiconductors, AI) and trade policy, shaping global economic stability.
