700 landslides between Sisimiut and Kangerlussuaq reveal a landscape in transition.
We are at the cultural center Taseralik in Sisimiut.
On stage stands a man with blond, curly hair. He speaks calmly, almost matter-of-factly, as images of mountainsides, gray-brown scars across the landscape, and satellite maps light up behind him. His words are not dramatic — but what he shows is.
The man is Steffen Ringsø Nielsen, a PhD student at DTU Arctic.
He has lived in Sisimiut for more than seven years, since arriving to study. The town, the mountains, and the backcountry between Sisimiut and Kangerlussuaq are not just a research area to him — they are a landscape he knows intimately.
On the screen behind him, a number appears: 700.
“That’s the number of new landslides we’ve recorded in the area,” he explains to the gathered researchers and local residents.
Big changes often begin with something small
Three local residents contacted DTU after noticing something they had never seen before: landslides.
One in Kangerluarsuk Tulleq, one near Aasivissuit, and one near Narsaaraq.
This caught Steffen Ringsø Nielsen’s attention.
“I’ve been connected to Sisimiut since 2013, and we had never really heard of landslides here,” he says.
It marked the beginning of a research project that has now identified more than 700 new landslides between Sisimiut and Kangerlussuaq.
A landscape changing color
The study did not begin in the mountains, but with satellite images.
By comparing images from 2019 and 2024, Steffen Ringsø Nielsen noticed something: Green areas had suddenly turned gray and brown.
“When vegetation disappears and the soil is exposed, it’s a clear sign of landslides. It’s actually quite easy to see from space,” he says.
When he counted them, the scale was surprising:
More than 700 new landslides since 2019 — compared to almost none between 2006 and 2019.
“This isn’t a slow process — it’s as if something in the ground has suddenly been activated.”
When ice melts beneath the ground
The explanation lies in the soil.
In the Arctic, temperatures are rising three to four times faster than the global average. This means that permafrost — permanently frozen ground — has begun to thaw.
“Soil that has been frozen for at least 10,000–20,000 years is now thawing. Combined with more frequent and heavier summer rainfall, this makes the ground soft and unstable.”
Water accumulates in the topsoil. What was once locked in place by frost can now begin to move.
The result is mudslides and landslides, ranging from about 10 meters to 30–40 meters wide and several meters deep.
In total, Steffen Ringsø Nielsen estimates that around 2 million cubic meters of soil have already been displaced in the area.
Climate change you can see and feel
The landslides are not just a geological phenomenon — they are tangible evidence of climate change already underway.
“We also see it in buildings in Kangerlussuaq and Sisimiut, which are beginning to tilt because the ground beneath them is no longer frozen. The landscape is changing — not in the future, but now.”
As landslides move, they carry plants, rocks, and soil with them, leaving open scars in the landscape and creating new unstable areas.
Risk in the backcountry
Many landslides occur far from towns, but the area between Sisimiut and Kangerlussuaq is one of the most heavily used backcountry regions in West Greenland.
Hunters, hikers, tourists, and future infrastructure projects all pass through here.
“After a landslide, the ground can feel like quicksand. And after heavy rain, more of the slope can give way,” says Steffen Ringsø Nielsen.
Especially in Aasivissuit, where tourism development is planned, the many new landslides could have an impact.
“We need to know where the risk is highest so people can be warned — especially after heavy rain.”
Earth in motion
When the project began, Steffen Ringsø Nielsen thought there might be three landslides.
Today, he knows there are hundreds.
“It’s both fascinating and serious. The landscape out there is incredibly beautiful, but it’s also changing — and you have to be careful.”
And perhaps that is exactly what the landslides are telling us: Greenland’s landscape is not static, but alive. Climate change is not just something measured in numbers — it can be seen in the ground beneath our feet.