As climate change erases glaciers, bleaches reefs and reshapes coastlines, a growing wave of travellers are chasing the experience of seeing vanishing wonders. New analysis by legal and social scientists argues that emotion-driven “last-chance” travel can be harnessed for conservation if managed carefully, but left unchecked it risks accelerating damage to the very sites visitors want to mourn and protect (An ethical guide to last-chance tourism). The debate matters to Thailand because the nation’s reefs, islands and coastal communities face the same pressures from overtourism and warming seas that are destroying destinations worldwide (An ethical guide to last-chance tourism).
Last-chance tourism describes travel motivated by the desire to witness landscapes, species or cultural sites before they disappear. The trend exploded as climate impacts became visible and widely covered in the media. High-profile moments — such as a public ceremony and plaque marking the loss of Iceland’s Okjökull glacier — have crystallised the idea of travel as a form of mourning and memory-making (Okjökull commemorated with plaque; Rice University memorial coverage). Anthropologists and tourists report strong emotional responses when confronting these losses in person, and researchers say those feelings can either inspire protective action or simply deepen grief without systemic follow-up (An ethical guide to last-chance tourism; University of Kansas study on eco-necrotourism).
The empirical picture is mixed. Studies of glacier sites in Europe show a substantial share of visitors travel specifically to “see the ice before it melts,” with roughly half of respondents citing that motive at a sample of six glacier locations (Visitors’ motivations study, European Alps sites). Iceland’s experience is stark: glacier tours have become a major draw, and hundreds of thousands of visitors now participate in glacier-related tourism each year, swelling pressure on fragile mountain and ice-field environments even as those visitors gain intimate, emotional knowledge of climate impacts (Climate reporting on Iceland tourism surge; Iceland visitor statistics). At the same time, reef destinations have documented clear ecological harms from inexperienced snorkelers and boat anchoring, with the Great Barrier Reef and other tropical systems suffering heavy damage linked to increased visitation (Great Barrier Reef and reef damage reporting; conservation literature on reef impacts).
Legal scholars argue the rise of last-chance tourism exposes governance gaps. Researchers who coined the term “eco-necrotourism” call for park and coastal managers to plan for the psychological drivers behind visits — grief, mourning and the urge to record a place before it changes — and to build management responses that channel emotions into conservation rather than damage (eco-necrotourism study in Florida State University Law Review; University of Kansas coverage). Among the options discussed are visitor caps, prioritized access for local or Indigenous communities, guided-only experiences, and interpretation programmes that convert emotional encounters into long-term advocacy and funding.
Experts working in polar and reef tourism stress that operator rules and education make a difference. Guides who work in Antarctica urge travellers to choose operators that belong to recognised industry bodies, limit landings, and embed citizen science and education so visitors leave with concrete ways to help (IAATO Antarctic seasonal reports and guidance; BBC coverage of Antarctic tourism impacts). Antarctic tourism has grown rapidly; IAATO reported record-level seasons in recent years with more than 100,000 passengers on IAATO-member journeys in the early 2020s, and research warns that even a single polar trip can carry a high carbon cost per passenger once long-haul flights are included (IAATO season reports; analysis of Antarctic trip emissions). Cruise fares that start at many thousands of pounds reflect both economic and environmental prices: long-distance travel to fragile sites magnifies global emissions even when operators attempt to minimise local footprint (Antarctic trip emissions analysis).
Thailand sits squarely in the path of these dynamics because its economy and many coastal communities rely on nature-based tourism. Reefs in both the Andaman Sea and the Gulf of Thailand have experienced repeated bleaching events tied to marine heatwaves, and scientists warned of a major global bleaching episode in 2023–24 that affected reefs in Southeast Asia as well as beyond (NOAA confirmation of global bleaching event; Reuters reporting on Thai sea temperatures and impacts). National reports and regional bodies documented severe local bleaching incidents that have forced temporary closures, curtailed diving and created economic hardship for communities dependent on dive tourism (ICRI member report and Thai reef monitoring summaries). These are precisely the kinds of sites that attract last-chance visitors: divers and snorkellers hoping to witness coral before further decline.
The ethical dilemma is therefore immediate and practical for Thailand. If last-chance visitation grows without strong rules, fragile reefs risk more mechanical damage from boat anchors, divers and inexperienced snorkelers; overcrowding can stress wildlife and reduce recovery potential; and the carbon emissions from long-haul flights to hotspots will further heat seas and intensify bleaching. If, instead, Thai parks and operators design visiting rules that prioritise conservation, knowledge-building and local benefits, last-chance tourism can help fund restoration, strengthen community stewardship, and build global advocacy for emissions reductions (conservation literature on reef tourism impacts and management; Thai coral reef monitoring and policy context).
Voices from the field underline both risks and opportunities. A law professor who has studied the governance of disappearing landscapes observes that managers are not yet prepared to handle the emotional surge that accompanies last-chance visits, and that unregulated grief can translate into crowding and degradation rather than protection. “People do feel real grief when environments they are attached to start to see harm,” the researcher wrote, urging that psychological responses be integrated into adaptation and visitor-management plans (eco-necrotourism study and commentary; University of Kansas coverage). Polar guides interviewed for recent reporting said they use pre-landing briefings, flexible itineraries and citizen science projects to turn emotional responses into practical stewardship tasks for visitors (IAATO guidance and operator interviews; BBC travel interviews).
Thailand already has some tools that could be scaled. Marine national parks control visitor numbers at sensitive sites and impose rules on mooring and diver behaviour; community-based tourism projects reinvest fees into restoration and livelihoods; and conservation NGOs run coral transplantation and rehabilitation programmes that benefit from volunteer support and donations. What’s missing in many cases is an integrated approach that treats last-chance motivation as both a risk and an opportunity: risk because it increases visitation pressure, and opportunity because emotionally engaged visitors can become powerful advocates and funders for reef recovery (Thai national park management frameworks and reef restoration programmes; reports on reef restoration efforts in Thailand.
Practical policy responses that emerge from the research and field practice include several mutually reinforcing steps. First, site managers should adopt firm visitor limits and guided-only access at the most fragile locations to prevent trampling and anchor damage. Second, tour operators should be required or incentivised to include pre-visit education and post-visit calls to action that convert emotional experiences into measurable conservation behaviours. Third, governments and park agencies should prioritise local and Indigenous communities for access, revenue-sharing and decision-making so that the people most dependent on these places help set the rules. Fourth, national tourism strategies must account for the carbon footprint of long-haul nature visits by encouraging longer-stay travel (reducing per-day emissions), supporting low-carbon transport options where possible, and financing science-based restoration projects with a portion of tourism revenues (eco-necrotourism governance recommendations; IAATO seasonal management and reporting).
For Thai operators and travellers, the recommendations are concrete and actionable. Operators should adopt codes of conduct for last-chance sites: limit group sizes, avoid sensitive microhabitats, use mooring buoys instead of anchors, and integrate citizen science or fundraising components into itineraries. Tourists should ask for certification (e.g., national park permits, recognised eco-tourism labels), choose operators that commit to conservation, avoid photo-only “bus” experiences that promote crowding, and follow strict no-touch rules for corals and wildlife. On return home, last-chance visitors should be encouraged to support local conservation NGOs, lobby for stronger climate action, and reduce personal emissions — the kinds of behaviour-change outcomes that research shows are possible but currently under-delivered (best-practice operator guidance and conservation NGO recommendations; research on visitor behaviour change after emotional encounters).
Culturally, Thailand can draw on strong traditions of collective responsibility, merit-making and respect for elders to shape last-chance responses that fit local values. Buddhist practices of remembrance and community ceremonies offer frameworks for commemorating environmental loss while channeling grief into compassionate action. Sacred-site protocols and community stewardship models used in coastal villages can be adapted to allocate “final visits” or ceremonial access in ways that respect both local custodianship and the emotional needs of visitors. Equitable decision-making that gives local fishers and coastal communities a lead role will not only be fair, it will strengthen compliance and long-term protection (Thai cultural context and community-based management models; eco-necrotourism governance discussion).
Looking ahead, Thailand faces a choice that mirrors global debates: permit a short-term tourism boom driven by witnessing decline, or use that same interest to finance science, restore habitats and build resilient local economies. If decision-makers plan now, they can avoid the scenario where millions “trample over an already fragile landscape” and instead create memorable visits that leave ecosystems better than before. That will require honest accounting of carbon costs, firm visitor management, community leadership and an obligation to convert grief into durable conservation outcomes (eco-necrotourism warnings and recommendations; BBC reporting on ethical travel choices).
For Thai travellers, communities and policymakers, the takeaway is straightforward: curiosity and compassion are not independent of responsibility. If you travel to see a place threatened by climate change, do so with a plan to help. Choose operators who practise low-impact travel and education, prioritise community-led tours and restoration projects, avoid behaviours that physically harm sites, and support broader climate policies that reduce the emissions driving the decline. For park managers and ministries, embed psychological considerations of grief and memory into visitor planning, make equitable decisions about access and revenue-sharing, and use tourism income to finance science-based recovery. Those steps can turn last-chance tourism from a final snapshot into a sustained movement for preservation that honours both the places and the people who depend on them (policy options from eco-necrotourism research; practical operator and visitor guidance).
As travellers stand at vanishing shores and retreating ice faces, the choice is moral and practical. Thailand’s reefs and islands are not just tourist assets; they are living communities, sources of food and identity, and parts of a global commons under threat. Managed with respect, last-chance encounters can seed new guardians. Unmanaged, they risk becoming memorials to opportunities missed. The urgent work now is for tourism policy, community leadership and traveller ethics to converge — so that seeing a place before it changes becomes the start of stewardship, not the end of it.
(An ethical guide to last-chance tourism — BBC Travel) (University of Kansas coverage of eco-necrotourism study) (Okjökull memorial coverage — BBC) (Iceland tourism statistics — Icelandic Tourist Board) (Glacier visitor motivations study — ResearchGate) (IAATO Antarctic tourism data) (Antarctic trip emissions analysis — BBC/Sierra Club coverage) (NOAA confirmation of global coral bleaching event) (Thai reef monitoring and impact reports — ICRI member report)