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The Bhotekoshi-Trishuli flood that surged through Rasuwa, Nuwakot, and Dhading has left approximately 1,451 dead and 5,745 missing as per the National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Authority (NDRRMA). Damage and losses are estimated at over Rs 408bn, and reconstruction will require around Rs 723bn. The effect on infrastructure has been severe: 13 hydropower projects and five solar plants were hit, nearly 70 kilometers of road were damaged, 33 motorable bridges were washed away, and 68 suspension bridges were damaged.  

Since the disaster, there has been widespread talk of making climate risk assessment mandatory for infrastructure projects. This is welcome news and exactly the right direction. Yet similar procedures, such as the Initial Environmental Examination (IEE), and the Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA) have long been used to screen projects before approval. However, often communities, scholars, and activists have repeatedly questioned how well they were assessed and suggestions implemented.

EIA was meant to protect people, rivers, and investments from poorly planned projects, yet it was long treated as a hurdle to clear red tape rather than a genuine examination of risk. The World Commission on Dams made the same observation as early as 2000, noting that assessments were often carried out too late and too narrowly to shape decisions. So, before we celebrate climate risk assessment as the fix, we need to ask an uncomfortable question: what, exactly, will stop it from becoming another formality?

A good idea that travelled well

EIA began with the US National Environmental Policy Act of 1969, which for the first time required that the environmental consequences of highways, dams, and power plants be studied before approval. The idea spread quickly. The 1987 Brundtland Report placed it within the wider agenda of sustainable development, and the 1992 Rio Earth Summit made it a global norm. Principle 17 of the Rio Declaration called on states to assess activities likely to cause significant environmental harm, and Principle 19 required them to notify neighbouring states of projects with transboundary effects. Within a few decades, more than a hundred countries had adopted EIA systems.

Nepal was an early adopter, at least in spirit. Its national plans of the 1980s called for assessing major infrastructure, and the National EIA Guidelines of 1993 gave the process practical shape. The Environment Protection Act of 1996 and the Environment Protection Rules of 1997 made IEE and EIA legally mandatory for prescribed projects, required public hearings, and assigned monitoring responsibilities to line ministries. The Environment Protection Act 2076 BS (2019) and its 2020 Rules replaced this framework, adding provisions on pollution control and climate change. Alongside national law, the World Bank and the Asian Development Bank have applied their own safeguard policies to the projects they finance, updating them regularly.

On paper, Nepal has had a mature assessment system for nearly three decades. 

How EIA became a formality

The problem is what happens between the rules and reality. In Environmental Assessment: Untold Realities, Batu Uprety, former Joint Secretary and Chief of the Climate Change Management Division at the then Ministry of Environment, and former Team Leader of Nepal's National Adaptation Plan formulation process, documents that many EIA reports have been copied and pasted from reports prepared for other projects. Yet these reports shape the future of entire regions, their residents, and the people who will depend on the infrastructure. Projects built on false information cannot deliver sustainable or ethical outcomes.

One could argue that at its core, the process is weak because institutions are. Developers hire and pay the consultants who assess their own projects. Reports are rarely made public in a form, or a language, that affected communities can read. Public hearings do take place for major infrastructure projects, but questions remain about who is consulted and whose voices are heard. Many affected people do not even know when or where the hearings were held, so consultations often happen for namesake only.

Those who questioned the process have often been pushed to the margins. Activists who challenged the EIA process and advocated for affected communities were labelled anti-development. Scholars who weighed the environmental, biodiversity, and economic costs of projects against their benefits were often given the same label. From mid-2000, this narrative had become so powerful that many of these voices have fallen silent. Communities affected by infrastructure projects across the country have raised concerns that were not often heard.

What climate risk assessment must do differently

In the aftermath of the Bhotekoshi-Trishuli flood, climate risk and multi-hazard assessments are being proposed as the way to prevent or reduce future losses. They are the right tools. But if they are introduced into the same system, they will meet the same fate. Five changes would make the difference.

First, independent assessments should be conducted by a body that is not paid by, and does not answer to, the project developer. As long as the proponent pays the assessor, the conflict of interest remains. Strict monitoring and penalties for violation of assessment procedures are essential. Consultants who submit copied or falsified assessments should lose their accreditation, and developers who ignore assessment findings should face penalties strong enough to matter. Monitoring, by a team that includes government officials, local communities, and multi-disciplinary experts, must continue through construction and operation. 

Second, the Bhotekoshi-Trishuli flood showed that danger can originate across the border, which makes transboundary data sharing with China on glacial lakes and upstream hazards essential. These data-sharing mechanisms should be strengthened, with Nepali experts involved so that they can monitor the data regularly themselves. 

Third, project-specific assessments must be accompanied by cumulative risk assessment. A single glacial lake or unstable slope can threaten several projects along the same river, so assessment must look at the whole basin, not one project at a time. 

Fourth, climate risk assessment should adopt a nexus approach rather than assessing infrastructure in isolation. Hydropower, irrigation, agriculture, drinking water, ecosystems, roads, and settlements are interconnected, particularly within a river basin. Damage to one system can quickly affect others. Climate risk assessment should therefore examine these interdependencies and potential trade-offs and consider how decisions in one sector may create risks or reduce resilience in another. 

Fifth, affected communities must be at the center of these assessments, involved early enough to influence decisions. The assessments should be publicly disclosed, with summaries in Nepali and local languages, before approval rather than after. When local people, researchers, or activists raise issues in an assessment, those concerns should be investigated, not dismissed as anti-development. 

Multilateral lenders have begun incorporating climate risk into their safeguards, most explicitly in ADB’s new climate standard, which has been in force only since January 2026. Nepal should develop its own assessment standards and keep updating them. Climate risk assessment could save lives and protect billions of rupees in public investment. But a new tool placed in an old system will produce old results. If Nepal wants this reform to be more than paperwork, it must also fix the system that turned EIA into a formality.

The author works with the International Water Management Institute (IWMI). She dedicates this article to those affected by the Bhotekoshi flood and to those who advocate and work for involuntarily displaced people

Nepal’s agriculture sector is entering the digital age. The country’s 16th National Plan (2024-25 to 2028-29), the Digital Nepal Framework 2.0, and the Ministry of Agriculture and Livestock Development's modernization agenda collectively envision a technology-driven transformation of agriculture. The priorities are ambitious and necessary: climate-smart farming through digital weather advisories, precision agriculture, smart irrigation, drought forecasting, crop disease early warning systems, and digital marketplaces that connect farmers directly to buyers.

The government is investing in centralized farmer databases, digital land and production records, e-extension services, online subsidy systems, and integrated agricultural information platforms. At the same time, private-sector and development partners have introduced a growing range of digital tools aimed at improving agricultural productivity and resilience.

Platforms such as Hamro Krishi, e-Hatbazar, GeoKrishi, PlantSat, Smart Krishi, and Farm2Fork provide weather forecasts, pest and disease alerts, market information, expert consultation, farm management tools, and digital learning resources. These innovations have the potential to improve decision-making, reduce risks, and increase farmers' access to services and markets.

Yet a fundamental question remains: Who is benefiting from Nepal's digital agricultural transformation?

The paradox of connectivity

According to the Nepal Telecommunications Authority, broadband penetration has surpassed 144 percent, and nearly 96 percent of internet users access services through mobile devices. On paper, Nepal appears highly connected.

However, connectivity alone does not guarantee inclusion.

For many citizens including farmers, internet use remains largely limited to social media, entertainment, and basic communication. Access to the internet has not automatically translated into greater access to education, economic opportunities, or digital services in agriculture sectors. Digital literacy remains uneven, particularly among rural populations, women, elderly citizens, and marginalized communities.

Significant disparities persist across geography and income groups. Urban centers enjoy relatively reliable connectivity and greater access to digital services, while remote and mountainous regions continue to face challenges related to network quality, affordability, and digital skills. Provincial disparities are equally striking. According to the Nepal Media Survey (2022), internet access ranges from 76 percent in Bagmati Province to only 50 percent in Madhesh Province, where millions of smallholder farmers reside.

Most digital agriculture platforms assume that users possess smartphones, stable internet access, and sufficient digital literacy to navigate applications. For many farmers, however, these assumptions do not reflect reality.  According to the Multi-dimension Poverty Index Report 2021, 17.4 percent of Nepalis are multidimensionally poor, and it will be challenging to reach them with digital innovation solutions.

As a result, Nepal faces a growing paradox: more people are connected than ever before, yet many remain digitally excluded from the opportunities that digital transformation promises.

The gender dimension of digital exclusion

Nepal is experiencing a rapid feminization of agriculture. As men migrate to cities and abroad in search of employment, women are increasingly responsible for managing farms, making production decisions, and engaging with markets. Despite their expanding role, women remain among the most digitally excluded groups in the agricultural sector.

Limited access to smartphones, lower levels of digital literacy, affordability constraints, and time burdens associated with household responsibilities all restrict women’s ability to participate in digital spaces. These barriers become even more pronounced among elderly, low income-groups and those women living in remote rural areas.

In many communities, women continue to rely on family members, neighbours, lead farmers, or cooperatives to access agricultural information. Consequently, digital tools often fail to reach the very people who now form the backbone of Nepal’s agricultural workforce.

The challenge is not merely one of access. Digital solutions are frequently designed without sufficient consideration of the realities faced by rural women. Assumptions regarding device ownership, internet availability, literacy levels, and digital confidence can unintentionally exclude women from meaningful participation.

If digital agriculture initiatives are not intentionally designed to address these disparities, they risk reinforcing existing inequalities rather than reducing them.

Looking beyond access

Digital inclusion is often measured through infrastructure indicators such as internet coverage, mobile subscriptions, or broadband penetration. While important, these indicators tell only part of the story.

The Multidimensional Digital Inclusiveness Index (MDII), developed by the International Water Management Institute (IWMI), offers a broader perspective. It argues that digital inclusion extends beyond connectivity to incorporate meaningful participation, usability, equity, and social outcomes.

The framework highlights three critical dimensions.

First, innovation usage asks whether digital tools are accessible, usable, and valuable for intended users. A platform may be technically sound, but if it is unavailable in local languages, difficult to navigate, or incompatible with commonly used devices, adoption will remain limited.

Second, stakeholder relationships focus on whether underserved communities are involved in the design and improvement of digital innovations. Technologies developed without meaningful participation from farmers often fail to address their actual needs and priorities.

Third, social consequences examine whether digital technologies reduce inequalities or inadvertently reinforce them through exclusion, bias, data misuse, or unequal access to benefits.

These dimensions are particularly relevant for Nepal, where digital agriculture initiatives are expanding rapidly while policy frameworks for data governance and digital rights remain underdeveloped. As the country advances its digital and artificial intelligence agendas, ensuring that technologies are inclusive, ethical, and accountable becomes increasingly important.

A seven-point agenda for inclusive digital agriculture

To ensure that digital transformation benefits all farmers rather than a privileged minority, Nepal must adopt a more inclusive approach.

First, define success. Progress should not be measured solely by connectivity rates or app downloads. Indicators such as digital literacy, productive digital engagement, and gender-disaggregated usage data should become central measures of success.

Second, invest in community-based digital literacy programs. Rural municipalities, particularly in provinces with lower digital access, should establish digital learning centers where farmers can receive hands-on support and training. Digital literacy must become a core component of agricultural extension services.

Third, co-design technologies. Farmers, especially women and marginalized groups, should be involved from the earliest stages of technology design and testing. Co-creation improves both adoption and effectiveness.

Fourth, address affordability barriers. For many smallholder farmers, the cost of smartphones, internet packages, and device maintenance remains expensive. Hence, the interventions can be designed considering these aspects, for instance, public-private partnerships for internet packages support, development of apps that does not require internet access throughout.  

Fifth, strengthen data protection and governance.  Nepal needs a robust legal framework to protect personal data and prevent misuse as centralized farmer databases and digital information systems expand.

Sixth, build a supportive environment. Training, community support networks, accessible content, and responsive institutions are equally important for sustained adoption.

Seventh, evaluate technologies through an inclusion lens. Digital tools should be assessed from their social impacts. Policymakers and developers must ask whether technologies benefit marginalized groups, represent diverse users, and avoid reinforcing inequalities.

A digital future that leaves no farmer behind

Nepal’s digital transformation in agriculture is no longer a question of whether it will happen but how it will unfold. The policy vision exists, and technologies are emerging. Investments are also growing. The challenge now is to ensure that digital innovation does not become another source of inequality.

A farmer in Karnali should have the same opportunity to benefit from digital advisory services as a farmer in Kathmandu Valley. A woman managing her household farm should be able to access agricultural information as easily as her male counterparts. Smallholders, Indigenous communities, and marginalized groups should not merely receive technologies designed elsewhere; they should actively shape the systems intended to serve them.

Digital agriculture will succeed when every farmer can meaningfully use digital tools to improve livelihoods, strengthen resilience, and participate fully in agricultural development. 

The author works with International Water Management Institute as a National Researcher — Social Science, Water and Natural Resources