Melting Certainties: Ecology and Tourism in the Alps

Majestic peaks, skiers carving fresh powder, colourful meadows in the summer - this is how many imagine the Alps. Yet reality increasingly includes flooded villages, swathes of artificial snow, and debris fields where glaciers once stood. The mountain landscape is warming, and with it, Alpine life is changing. Droughts are longer, rainfall more intense. Landslides, rockfalls and debris flows threaten huts, roads and ski lifts.

For the people of the Alps, this calls for a rethinking. For the plants, it means adapting. But is that even possible, and if so, how? These are the questions pursued by ECH researchers Valentina Ausserladscheider and Stefan Dullinger. The economic sociologist Ausserladscheider investigates how those who make a living in the mountains respond to the financial risks of climate change, while the ecologist Dullinger studies if and how Alpine plants can adapt.

“The winter, and in particular the ski industry, is highly climate-vulnerable,” says Ausserladscheider. Having grown up in a tourist village in Tyrol, she knows the interdependencies intimately: local and regional economies rely on visitors paying for equipment, accommodation, food and lift tickets. Things dependent upon low temperatures and reliable snow. 

But snow is now melting earlier in the season, and the snow line is shifting uphill. “Those working in winter tourism experience the problem firsthand and try to manage it,” says Ausserladscheider, who speaks with mayors, hoteliers and lift operators for her research. Many are determined to cling to ski tourism. “It’s not irrational” she stresses. In past decades, tourism brought prosperity to regions once plagued by poverty, where agriculture was often the only option. That history has become ingrained in local culture, that now in turn is reluctant to abandon a recipe for success.

Clinging to ski tourism does not come without consequences; its imprint is increasingly visible on the landscape. In Austria, over 30,000 snow cannons now ensure around three-quarters of pistes can be covered artificially. Snowmaking is a first line of adaptation. “We see that it can work well in the short and medium term in many areas,” says Ausserladscheider. “But the snow doesn’t always stay.” When temperatures rise too high, it melts. The windows in which snow cannons can operate are narrowing.

Even high-altitude destinations are building reservoirs in the mountains, because snowmaking requires large volumes of water at precisely the time when natural supplies are often limited and streams run low. When temperatures drop, operators must produce snow quickly and in bulk, which makes stored reserves essential. By 2050, projections suggest water demand for Austrian ski slopes could rise by around a third, increasingly drawing from groundwater. Environmental groups have long warned about ecological consequences, and conflicts over use are already emerging: in the drought spring of 2023, the South Tyrolean regional government temporarily banned snow cannon operation.

These developments raise a fundamental question: how far can an industry go that depends on nature, even as it reshapes it technologically? Across the Alps, the most important tourist resource – nature - is being wagered. “Winter tourism is, after all, nature-based tourism,” stresses Ausserladscheider. “Intact, undeveloped landscapes are essential for attracting visitors.”

New infrastructure also increases pressure on Alpine ecosystems. Ecologist Stefan Dullinger argues: “Human impact in high-altitude areas should be minimised, and further construction avoided.” Plants are already responding to warming temperature. Many Alpine species depend on a natural snow cover, which maintains stable temperatures and protects the plants from extreme cold. But even these conditions are steadily changing. Dullinger observes this on Schrankogel in the Stubai Alps at 3,500 metres. There, the snowpack begins to melt about three weeks earlier than it did 30 years ago. Plants such as the purple Alpine bellflower (Campanula alpina) are thus exposed to harsher frost in spring, and populations are shrinking.

He compares the Alps to a house: some plants can live on several “floors,” others only at the very top. “As it warms, certain competitive species or vegetation types move upward,” he explains, noting that temperature drops roughly 0.6°C per 100 metres of altitude. “Plants already confined to the ‘attic’ find themselves in a dead end.” Populations shrink, vulnerability rises, and extinction risk grows. Like several other nival species, the alpine buttercup (Ranunculus glacialis), which survives above 4,500 metres, has already experienced a considerable reduction of its population size, Dullinger adds.

Adapting winter tourism is a complex interplay of climatic, economic, political and social factors. And: There is no single solution that fits all. Many destinations are only partially adjusting: zipline and mountain-cart parks have been built on peaks, wellness hotels in valleys. Some are deliberately strengthening summer tourism with new hiking trails or mountain bike routes. Other destinations have restructured completely. The small St. Corona ski area in Lower Austria, for example, dismantled an old chairlift around 15 years ago and replaced it with a ski-bike hybrid that now generates year-round revenue. “This shows how climatic realities reshape economic questions,” says Ausserladscheider.  

Which adaptations are possible also depends on powerful institutions such as lift companies or local politics. “They structure economic and political systems,” explains the economic sociologist. “But they are relatively rigid and do not change overnight.” Experience, existing business relationships, and cultural attitudes all play a role.

Ausserladscheider observes that many businesses define “sustainability” primarily in economic terms: continuing their core operations while making small changes, such as reducing emissions within their establishments. 

While temperatures rise relentlessly, the shift away from ski tourism is slow and often hesitant. Both ECH researchers emphasise the need for a longer-term perspective. “You cannot simply abide climate change for a short period and then call it done,” says Ausserladscheider. “The challenges will grow over time.” Effective climate action is the only way to limit them. Emissions must be reduced if the Alps are to remain snowy and vibrant as a habitat and as a space for human activity, for generations to come. Luckily, as Stefan Dullinger puts it: “There is still massive potential to prevent the worst from happening.”

Ausserladscheider and Dullinger on the panel of our event 12. Environmental Dialogue: Snow was yesterday – Climate change in the Alps.

Read the event report