The North Pole will be ice-free during summer in years to come

Aleqa Hammond spoke with the solemn voice of one who sees the storm before it breaks: “The North Pole will be ice-free during summer in years to come, and that itself will put the Arctic Sea basin on a very high risk of… environmental disasters that might be there.” At first, this may sound like a prediction of weather, a scientific statement of fact. But in truth it is more: it is a cry of warning, a lament for the balance of the earth, a call for all people to awaken before the ground beneath them shifts beyond repair.

The North Pole, for countless generations, has stood as a symbol of permanence and mystery. It was the land explorers dreamed of reaching, the frozen crown of the world, untouched and seemingly eternal. Yet Hammond’s words reveal the great truth of our age: that nothing is eternal if humanity forgets its stewardship. To imagine it ice-free is to imagine a world unmoored, a world where what was once strong and unchanging has melted into fragility. This vision is not a marvel of progress, but a warning of decline.

When she speaks of summer, she speaks not only of the warmth of seasons but of an unnatural heat rising from human hands. The sun has always melted ice, but never before at this scale, never before at this speed. The Arctic Sea basin, once a fortress of ice, becomes instead a vulnerable plain, exposed to forces that threaten its creatures, its waters, and by extension, the fate of all who dwell upon the earth. For what happens in the Arctic does not remain there—it ripples across oceans, shifts winds, floods lands, and alters the lives of millions.

History gives us lessons of such disasters. When the city of Pompeii ignored the trembling of the earth and the smoke of Vesuvius, they continued with their feasts and markets, unheeding of the warning signs. And when the mountain erupted, all was lost in a day. Hammond’s words are like those tremors, those rising plumes of smoke: a signal that the world must not sleep while the ice disappears. If we ignore it, we may find ourselves buried not under ash, but under floods, famine, and storms.

Yet within her warning lies also a call to courage. The ancients knew that to foresee danger was not despair, but the first step toward salvation. Prophets, philosophers, and leaders cried out not to frighten, but to awaken. So too does Hammond urge us to see the fragility of the Arctic not as doom, but as a challenge to rise, to change, to protect. To face the risk of environmental disasters is not to surrender, but to fight for harmony with the earth once again.

What then shall we learn? First, that the earth is not ours to exploit endlessly, but a trust placed into our hands. The ice, the seas, the winds, the forests—they are gifts, and every gift demands care. Second, that ignorance and delay are the allies of destruction. Just as the farmer who neglects his fields will starve, so too will nations that neglect the climate suffer in generations to come.

And finally, let us take action. Conserve where you can. Speak of these truths boldly, even when others would dismiss them. Support those who protect the land, the seas, and the fragile ice of the North Pole. Live with restraint, live with wisdom, and teach your children that to guard the earth is to guard themselves.

Thus, the words of Aleqa Hammond are not merely prophecy—they are commandment. The ice-free summer is not yet here, but it approaches. Let us not be like Pompeii, blind until the end, but like the wise seafarers who read the stars and steered their ships to safety. For if we honor the warning, if we act with courage, the earth may yet endure—and the frozen crown of the world may not vanish, but remain as a witness to human responsibility and reverence.