Weather-Morphosis: the unexpected side of climate change

What does transformation really mean? It’s a change of form, of skin, of perspective. An inner and outer metamorphosis, a continuous rewriting of who we are. As human beings, we experience it in our bodies, in the shifting shades of our hair, in our emotions (anger, joy, sadness) but also in our daily choices and feelings. We wear new roles, embrace colors we once feared, and let go of old versions of ourselves to make space for what’s next. But here’s what strikes me most, and what I want to share with you: it’s not just us who are transforming. 

Our impact on the planet is reshaping the destiny of other living beings, too.

Just a few days ago, as I scrolled through the news, a headline caught my eye, it sounded like something out of a sci-fi novel: “Lizards changing sex due to record heat in Australia.” I read it again. "Lizards changing sex?"

Yes, you read that right. And it’s not fiction. It’s science. Climate change isn’t only redrawing landscapes,  it’s rewriting nature’s very identity. When we talk about global warming, what comes to mind?

Melting glaciers? Polar bears in distress? Heatwaves and floods?

Those are the usual images dominating the headlines, but they’re just one side of the story. Behind the dramatic visuals lies an unseen world of unexpected and bizarre consequences that rarely make the news, yet they deserve to be told. Let’s start with the Australian bearded dragon (Pogona vitticeps), a native species now facing a genuine identity crisis.

The mechanism is as fascinating as it is worrying: for these reptiles, sex is determined by temperature during a critical stage of embryonic development. Eggs with typically male chromosomes, when incubated above 32°C, develop as females.

Climate change, quite literally, is turning males into females.

The Italian newspaper  «La Repubblica» recently reported on a public alert campaign by ISPRA and the CNR, describing the arrival of closely monitored alien species such as the rabbitfish (Siganus luridus).

The news sparked debate: this invasive species, originally from the Red Sea, has now colonized the Mediterranean, putting pressure on local fishers and marine ecosystems. It is one of the most evident examples of what biologists call the “tropicalization” of the Mediterranean.

You don’t need to be a marine biologist to notice it: a walk along an Italian beach is enough to see fishers pulling up species that, until a few years ago, belonged only to tropical seas. Barracudas, parrotfish, colorful jellyfish… while sardines and anchovies are becoming increasingly rare.

Warmer waters are driving native species northward and attracting tropical ones to our coasts, transforming not only the underwater landscape but also the food habits and cultural traditions of coastal communities.

Per molti di noi le giornate iniziano sempre allo stesso modo: con una tazza di caffè. È il primo gesto della mattina, il rito che scandisce i ritmi quotidiani e che accompagna riunioni, pause e momenti di convivialità. Ma cosa succederebbe se quel caffè non avesse più lo stesso sapore? Il cambiamento climatico sta già mettendo a rischio non solo la quantità, ma anche la qualità della nostra bevanda più amata.Le piante di caffè sono estremamente sensibili: l’Arabica, che rappresenta circa il 70% della produzione mondiale, cresce bene solo in un intervallo termico compreso tra i 18 e i 22 °C. Quando le temperature superano questi valori, l’acidità e il profilo aromatico dei chicchi ne risultano compromessi. Non è solo il calore a creare problemi: anche i modelli di precipitazione diventano più imprevedibili, alternando siccità prolungate a piogge torrenziali che sconvolgono la fioritura.Secondo il Gruppo intergovernativo di esperti sul cambiamento climatico, entro il 2050 quasi la metà delle aree oggi coltivate a caffè potrebbe non essere più adatta alla produzione. In Brasile e nel Sud-Est asiatico la riduzione dell’idoneità potrebbe variare dal 30 all’85%. Il risultato? Non solo meno caffè, ma caffè diverso, con un gusto meno ricco e meno equilibrato rispetto a quello che conosciamo oggi.

For many of us, the day always begins the same way, with a cup of coffee.

It’s the first gesture of the morning, a ritual that sets the rhythm of our routines, accompanying meetings, breaks, and moments of connection. But what if that coffee no longer tasted the same?

Climate change is already putting at risk not only the quantity but also the quality of the world’s most beloved beverage.

Coffee plants are extremely sensitive. Arabica, which accounts for about 70% of global production, grows well only within a narrow temperature range, between 18°C and 22°C.

When temperatures rise beyond that threshold, the beans lose acidity and aromatic complexity. And it’s not just heat that causes problems: rainfall patterns are becoming increasingly erratic, alternating between prolonged droughts and heavy downpours that disrupt flowering cycles.

According to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), by 2050 nearly half of all areas currently suitable for coffee cultivation may no longer be viable.

In Brazil and Southeast Asia, the reduction in suitable land could range from 30% to 85%.

The result? Not just less coffee, but different coffee, with a taste less rich and balanced than the one we know today.

Non è un caso che il volontariato aziendale sia spesso visto come un “fratello” del welfare aziendale. Entrambi sono strumenti che rafforzano il benessere dei lavoratori e, allo stesso tempo, creano valore fuori dalle mura dell’impresa.Una ricerca condotta in Portogallo ha calcolato che ogni euro investito in programmi di volontariato aziendale produce almeno 3,55 euro di valore sociale, e che un’ora di volontariato può generare un ritorno fino a 5,75 volte il suo costo. È la prova che solidarietà e collaborazione non sono solo concetti etici, ma anche leve concrete di sostenibilità: fanno crescere le persone, rafforzano le comunità e rendono le imprese più resilienti e credibili.La cosa interessante poi è che, dietro a questi impegni, non ci sono solo aziende note, ma anche una miriade di piccole e medie realtà che sperimentano forme nuove di collaborazione con i territori.Solo qualche piccolo esempio saltellando tra le nostre regioni.A Udine, Hattiva Lab è una cooperativa sociale che ogni giorno lavora per l’inclusione di bambini, ragazzi e adulti con disabilità. Non è solo un centro di servizi: è un laboratorio di cittadinanza attiva, dove si fanno doposcuola inclusivi, corsi di autonomia, attività culturali che coinvolgono famiglie, scuole e istituzioni.A Roma, i ragazzi di Barikamà, partiti da condizioni di sfruttamento, hanno scelto di fondare una cooperativa agricola: yogurt e ortaggi diventano strumenti di dignità e di incontro, perché nel loro laboratorio trovano spazio anche persone con disabilità. 

It is no coincidence that corporate volunteering is often seen as a “sibling” of corporate welfare. Both are tools that strengthen employee well-being and, at the same time, create value beyond the company’s walls.

A study conducted in Portugal calculated that every euro invested in corporate volunteering programs generates at least €3.55 in social value, and that one hour of volunteering can produce a return up to 5.75 times its cost. This is proof that solidarity and collaboration are not only ethical concepts, but also concrete levers of sustainability: they help people grow, strengthen communities, and make companies more resilient and credible.

What is interesting is that behind these commitments there are not only well-known companies, but also a multitude of small and medium-sized enterprises experimenting with new forms of collaboration with their local communities.

Just a few small examples from different Italian regions.

In Udine, Hattiva Lab is a social cooperative that works every day for the inclusion of children, young people, and adults with disabilities. It is not just a service center: it is a laboratory of active citizenship, where inclusive after-school programs, autonomy courses, and cultural activities involve families, schools, and institutions.

In Rome, the young people of Barikamà, who started out in conditions of exploitation, chose to found an agricultural cooperative: yogurt and vegetables become tools of dignity and connection, because their workshop also welcomes people with disabilities.

In Veneto, WelfareCare has transformed prevention into an act of proximity: a mobile clinic that arrives in town squares and offers thousands of women the opportunity to undergo free screenings.

In Puglia, on the other hand, Farmalabor has chosen to intertwine innovation and solidarity: alongside pharmaceuticals and research, there are community gardens, libraries, and even a workshop for inmates nearing the end of their sentences.

You know what strikes me most? The collective nature of these experiences.

This is not top-down philanthropy, but initiatives born together: companies, associations, schools, local administrations. Here, collaboration becomes the key to solving problems.

There is a quote that often accompanies me: “Individual commitment to a group effort-that is what makes a team work, a company work, a society work, a civilization work.” It is so simple, and yet so true. Because solidarity is never a solitary act: it is the awareness that each of us brings a piece, small or large, into a project greater than ourselves.

Like in an orchestra: the violin, the double bass, the drum, each with its distinct voice, but all called to follow the same melody. There is no minor role when the goal is shared.

Perhaps social sustainability is exactly this: accepting that transformation begins when we recognize the value of our own contribution, but above all when we combine it with that of others.

And so yes, as U2 sing, “we get to carry each other.”

It is not a burden-it is the privilege of building something that could never exist alone.

Best regards,

Chiara Pontoni

Sustainability Manager, Gesteco

WelfareCare’s Mobile Clinic