<p>India is living through a moment of extraordinary ecological fragility. Every summer is hotter than the last, every monsoon more unpredictable, and every news cycle carries a story of vanishing wetlands, dying lakes, or forests cleared for development. Just the other day, one read the heartbreaking news of a herd of elephants being mowed down by the Rajdhani train. One can ask questions about who was intruding on whose territory.</p>.<p>Climate change has become the silent backdrop of our daily lives. Yet our educational approach still treats environmental learning as a peripheral topic – a chapter in a textbook, a unit to be memorised, or a one-day “environment awareness” programme. What we urgently need, instead, is a profound shift in mindset: climate education must begin at the age of five. Waiting until adolescence or adulthood to introduce ecological thinking is not just ineffective; it is irresponsible.</p>.Reimagining tiger safaris.<p>Much of the world is now trying to retrofit climate education into its school systems. Europe, often seen as environmentally conscious, integrated climate literacy into early childhood education only after decades of ecological degradation. Finland’s celebrated National Core Curriculum, which embeds ecological thinking from pre-primary years, and Norway’s tradition of friluftsliv – outdoor life as a pedagogical approach – are the results of learning born from loss. The UK’s recent Nature Park initiative, launched to bring biodiversity mapping and climate literacy into schools, came after dramatic declines in species and forest cover. In these nations, nature education is a corrective, a way to repair damage that has already taken place.</p>.<p>India still has something precious left – its forests, coastal ecosystems, wetlands, and astonishing biodiversity. But these are slipping away faster than most people realise. UNESCO has recorded that nearly one-third of India’s natural wetlands have disappeared. The IPBES Global Assessment notes steep declines in species and habitats across the subcontinent. In the Western Ghats, habitat loss in several districts is shockingly high, between 70% and 80%. If we do not cultivate in our children a sense of belonging to the natural world, no policy, mission, or strategy will be enough.</p>.<p>The most compelling reason to begin climate education early comes from developmental psychology and neuroscience. Research by scholars such as Louise Chawla shows that early experiences with nature strongly influence pro-environmental attitudes in adulthood. Children who develop emotional affinity with the natural world are far more likely to grow into adults who conserve, protect, and advocate. Neuroscience also reinforces that empathy – for humans, animals, and ecosystems – has a developmental window in early childhood. If that window is missed, behavioural change becomes more difficult later. In other words, the foundations of environmental responsibility must be laid before the age of seven.</p>.<p>Studies in Nature Climate Change show that even primary-school children can comprehend the basic patterns of climate change when taught through observation and storytelling. More importantly, they internalise these lessons emotionally. They connect their own daily experiences – heat, rain, polluted lakes, disappearing birds – to broader environmental shifts. To them, climate change is not an abstraction, but something they witness.</p>.<p>However, urban childhood today is lived among cement, screens, and traffic. Many children have never walked barefoot on grass, watched a butterfly emerge, or seen a clear night sky. Their idea of a river is a polluted canal; their understanding of a lake is a fenced, algae-covered reservoir. When nature becomes a distant concept rather than a lived reality, the instinct to protect it weakens. This is a generational problem.</p>.<p>It was in response to these realities that we created Parikrma Oxygen, a nature school for underserved children. Many of our children live in dense slum communities with no access to green spaces. Their sense of ecology is shaped by scarcity: of clean water, clean air, or open land. For them, nature education must be experiential and immersive. The learning happens outdoors. Children observe plants, insects, birds, and soil; they track changes in rainfall; they learn how lakes breathe and how waste travels; they grow and care for native species; they watch compost become soil. Slowly, they begin to notice patterns. They begin to ask questions. They begin to care. These transformations come not from lectures, but from daily contact and emotional connection.</p>.<p>The window is closing</p>.<p>The idea is to create a generation of climate custodians; children who do not see nature as separate from themselves but as part of their identity. We cannot build a resilient future if conservation remains the domain of scientists and policymakers alone. India needs a citizenry that intuitively understands why trees matter, why water bodies need protection, and why biodiversity is not decorative but essential. This shift requires mass environmental literacy, not specialised expertise. And mass literacy can only be built in schools.</p>.<p>The National Education Policy 2020 already emphasises experiential learning, curiosity, and foundational skills. Climate education should sit at the centre of this vision. Imagine a future in which every school – urban or rural – has a small biodiversity garden, a weather observation log, a composting corner, or a student-run nature journal. If India integrates climate learning into the curriculum from pre-primary years, it can produce a generation more equipped to face and solve the environmental challenges ahead than today’s adults ever were.</p>.<p>The window for action is small. If we wait until deforestation accelerates further or until climate shocks deepen, we will be left teaching children about ecosystems that no longer exist. We can raise a generation that grows up seeing the environment not as an academic topic but as a living, breathing part of their daily lives. We can raise citizens who will fight for rivers, trees, forests, and species because they grew up loving them. The question is not whether we can afford to bring climate education into early childhood. The question is whether we can afford not to.</p>.<p>(The writer is the founder and CEO of the Parikrma Humanity Foundation, which runs Parikrma Oxygen, a nature school for underserved children)</p><p><em>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.</em></p>
<p>India is living through a moment of extraordinary ecological fragility. Every summer is hotter than the last, every monsoon more unpredictable, and every news cycle carries a story of vanishing wetlands, dying lakes, or forests cleared for development. Just the other day, one read the heartbreaking news of a herd of elephants being mowed down by the Rajdhani train. One can ask questions about who was intruding on whose territory.</p>.<p>Climate change has become the silent backdrop of our daily lives. Yet our educational approach still treats environmental learning as a peripheral topic – a chapter in a textbook, a unit to be memorised, or a one-day “environment awareness” programme. What we urgently need, instead, is a profound shift in mindset: climate education must begin at the age of five. Waiting until adolescence or adulthood to introduce ecological thinking is not just ineffective; it is irresponsible.</p>.Reimagining tiger safaris.<p>Much of the world is now trying to retrofit climate education into its school systems. Europe, often seen as environmentally conscious, integrated climate literacy into early childhood education only after decades of ecological degradation. Finland’s celebrated National Core Curriculum, which embeds ecological thinking from pre-primary years, and Norway’s tradition of friluftsliv – outdoor life as a pedagogical approach – are the results of learning born from loss. The UK’s recent Nature Park initiative, launched to bring biodiversity mapping and climate literacy into schools, came after dramatic declines in species and forest cover. In these nations, nature education is a corrective, a way to repair damage that has already taken place.</p>.<p>India still has something precious left – its forests, coastal ecosystems, wetlands, and astonishing biodiversity. But these are slipping away faster than most people realise. UNESCO has recorded that nearly one-third of India’s natural wetlands have disappeared. The IPBES Global Assessment notes steep declines in species and habitats across the subcontinent. In the Western Ghats, habitat loss in several districts is shockingly high, between 70% and 80%. If we do not cultivate in our children a sense of belonging to the natural world, no policy, mission, or strategy will be enough.</p>.<p>The most compelling reason to begin climate education early comes from developmental psychology and neuroscience. Research by scholars such as Louise Chawla shows that early experiences with nature strongly influence pro-environmental attitudes in adulthood. Children who develop emotional affinity with the natural world are far more likely to grow into adults who conserve, protect, and advocate. Neuroscience also reinforces that empathy – for humans, animals, and ecosystems – has a developmental window in early childhood. If that window is missed, behavioural change becomes more difficult later. In other words, the foundations of environmental responsibility must be laid before the age of seven.</p>.<p>Studies in Nature Climate Change show that even primary-school children can comprehend the basic patterns of climate change when taught through observation and storytelling. More importantly, they internalise these lessons emotionally. They connect their own daily experiences – heat, rain, polluted lakes, disappearing birds – to broader environmental shifts. To them, climate change is not an abstraction, but something they witness.</p>.<p>However, urban childhood today is lived among cement, screens, and traffic. Many children have never walked barefoot on grass, watched a butterfly emerge, or seen a clear night sky. Their idea of a river is a polluted canal; their understanding of a lake is a fenced, algae-covered reservoir. When nature becomes a distant concept rather than a lived reality, the instinct to protect it weakens. This is a generational problem.</p>.<p>It was in response to these realities that we created Parikrma Oxygen, a nature school for underserved children. Many of our children live in dense slum communities with no access to green spaces. Their sense of ecology is shaped by scarcity: of clean water, clean air, or open land. For them, nature education must be experiential and immersive. The learning happens outdoors. Children observe plants, insects, birds, and soil; they track changes in rainfall; they learn how lakes breathe and how waste travels; they grow and care for native species; they watch compost become soil. Slowly, they begin to notice patterns. They begin to ask questions. They begin to care. These transformations come not from lectures, but from daily contact and emotional connection.</p>.<p>The window is closing</p>.<p>The idea is to create a generation of climate custodians; children who do not see nature as separate from themselves but as part of their identity. We cannot build a resilient future if conservation remains the domain of scientists and policymakers alone. India needs a citizenry that intuitively understands why trees matter, why water bodies need protection, and why biodiversity is not decorative but essential. This shift requires mass environmental literacy, not specialised expertise. And mass literacy can only be built in schools.</p>.<p>The National Education Policy 2020 already emphasises experiential learning, curiosity, and foundational skills. Climate education should sit at the centre of this vision. Imagine a future in which every school – urban or rural – has a small biodiversity garden, a weather observation log, a composting corner, or a student-run nature journal. If India integrates climate learning into the curriculum from pre-primary years, it can produce a generation more equipped to face and solve the environmental challenges ahead than today’s adults ever were.</p>.<p>The window for action is small. If we wait until deforestation accelerates further or until climate shocks deepen, we will be left teaching children about ecosystems that no longer exist. We can raise a generation that grows up seeing the environment not as an academic topic but as a living, breathing part of their daily lives. We can raise citizens who will fight for rivers, trees, forests, and species because they grew up loving them. The question is not whether we can afford to bring climate education into early childhood. The question is whether we can afford not to.</p>.<p>(The writer is the founder and CEO of the Parikrma Humanity Foundation, which runs Parikrma Oxygen, a nature school for underserved children)</p><p><em>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.</em></p>