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\DOI{10.5802/crgeos.265}
\datereceived{2023-06-27}
\daterevised{2023-09-25}
\dateaccepted{2024-06-04}
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\begin{noXML}

%\makeatletter
%\def\TITREspecial{\relax}
%\def\cdr@specialtitle@english{Human Environment Observatory}
%\def\cdr@specialtitle@french{Observatoire Homme Milieu (OHM)}
%\makeatother

\CDRsetmeta{articletype}{review}

\shortrunauthors

\title{Urban emergence in inuit territory: impacts on the Nunavik
socio-ecosystem}

\alttitle{L'\'emergence urbaine en territoire inuit : cons\'equences sur
l'\'ecosyst\`eme du Nunavik}

\author{\firstname{Fabienne} \lastname{Joliet}\CDRorcid{0000-0002-4707-3229}}
\address{L'Institut Agro \& laboratoire ESO, Angers, France}
\email[F. Joliet]{fabienne.joliet@institut-agro.fr}

\author{\firstname{Laine} \lastname{Chanteloup}\CDRorcid{0000-0002-5381-2411}}
\address{Universit\'{e} de Lausanne, Switzerland}
\email[L. Chanteloup]{laine.chanteloup@gmail.com}

\author{\firstname{Thora} \lastname{Herrmann}\CDRorcid{0000-0002-6485-6022}}
\address{University of Oulu, Finland}
\email[T. Herrmann]{thora.herrmann@oulu.fi}

\author{\firstname{St\'{e}phane} \lastname{Gibout}\CDRorcid{0000-0002-8007-1604}}
\address{Universit\'{e} de Pau et des Pays de l'Adour, France}
\email[S. Gibout]{stephane.gibout@univ-pau.fr}

\author{\firstname{Didier} \lastname{Haillot}\CDRorcid{0000-0001-8676-034X}}
\address{Ecole Technique Sup\'{e}rieure de Montreal, Canada}
\email[D. Haillot]{Didier.Haillot@etsmtl.ca}

\author{\firstname{Najat} \lastname{Bhiry}\CDRorcid{0000-0002-6609-0235}}
\address{Universit\'{e} Laval \& Centre d'\'{e}tudes nordiques, Qu\'{e}bec, Canada}
\email[N. Bhiry]{najat.bhiry@cen.ulaval.ca}

\author{\firstname{V\'{e}ronique} \lastname{Coxam}\CDRorcid{0000-0002-1989-9015}}
\address{INRAE, Clermont-Ferrand, France}
\email[V. Coxam]{veronique.coxam@inrae.fr}

\author{\firstname{Armelle} \lastname{Decaulne}\CDRorcid{0000-0002-8029-850X}\IsCorresp}
\address{CNRS, laboratoire LETG, Nantes, France}
\email[A. Decaulne]{armelle.decaulne@cnrs.fr}

\begin{abstract}
Through the combination of interdisciplinary thematics studied on the
territory of Nunavik by the OHMi Nunavik, the socio\nobreak-ecosystem is
considered with a focus on the urban context of northern Quebec. Since
only a few decades, urbanity (in the geographical sense of the word) is
a major change in Nunavik, impacting the traditional indigenous ways of
life, geocultural images, food availability and sufficiency, opening
new needs regarding energy self-sufficiency, and being impacted by
hazards and vulnerability various situations. Therefore, we propose
here a reflexive input on the recent urban development and complexity,
based on the results of four research projects running since 2015--2017
within the framework of the OHMi Nunavik, Nuna, Niqiliriniq, Siqiniq
and Kinngaq.
\end{abstract}

\begin{altabstract}
Gr\^{a}ce \`{a} la combinaison de th\`{e}mes interdisciplinaires
\'{e}tudi\'{e}s sur le territoire du Nunavik par l'OHMi Nunavik, le
socio-\'{e}cosyst\`{e}me est consid\'{e}r\'{e} en mettant l'accent sur
le contexte urbain du nord du Qu\'{e}bec. Depuis seulement quelques
d\'{e}cennies, l'urbanit\'{e} est un changement majeur au Nunavik,
impactant les modes de vie traditionnels autochtones, les images
g\'{e}oculturelles, la disponibilit\'{e} et la suffisance alimentaire,
ouvrant de nouveaux besoins concernant l'autosuffisance
\'{e}nerg\'{e}tique, et \'{e}tant impact\'{e}e par les risques et la
vuln\'{e}rabilit\'{e} dans des situations diverses. Nous proposons donc
ici un apport r\'{e}flexif sur le d\'{e}veloppement et la
complexit\'{e} urbaine r\'{e}cente, bas\'{e} sur les r\'{e}sultats de
quatre projets de recherche men\'{e}s depuis 2015--2017 dans le cadre de
l'OHMi Nunavik, Nuna, Niqiliriniq, Siqiniq et Kinngaq.
\end{altabstract}

\keywords{\kwd{Tradition}
\kwd{Indigenous peoples}
\kwd{Urban nuclei}
\kwd{Geoculture}
\kwd{Food}
\kwd{Energy}
\kwd{Hazards}}

\altkeywords{\kwd{Tradition}
\kwd{Populations autochtones}
\kwd{Noyaux urbains}
\kwd{G\'{e}oculture}
\kwd{Alimentation}
\kwd{\'{E}nergie}
\kwd{Al\'{e}as}}

\maketitle

{\vspace*{8pt}}

\twocolumngrid

\end{noXML}

{\advance\baselineskip by -.2pt
\section{Introduction}

Although it is an oxymoron to speak of the urban Arctic, the question
is very real today. Cities are multiplying on the northern edge of the
ecumene, the Earth habitable by human. This is a real challenge for
arctic land-use planning, which, whatever the scale and scope of the
process, has \textit{de facto} led to a transformation of the
traditional arctic socio-ecosystem in Nunavik (Northern Quebec) and
other areas. This is a recent phenomenon for the Indigenous people of
the Canadian Arctic who were still nomadic or semi-nomadic half a
century ago, moving from camp to camp according to the season by
dogsled or boat. Nunavik (``the great land'' in Inuktitut, the Inuit
language) is located in the northern part of the Quebec Province (north
of the 55th parallel).

Within the traditional nomadic Inuit universe, colonial trading posts
were the first fixed points along the coast. From this archipelago of
anchor points, the Cold War generated two urban nucleii: Kuujjuaq and
Kuujjuarapik, bridgeheads of the Distant Early Warning Line (DEW Line),
a line of pre-warning radar stations laid out along the
Canadian-American Arctic \citep{Rousseau1968}. The last third of the
twentieth century was a period of transition, imposing a sedentary
lifestyle on the Inuit in fits and starts with the construction of
villages, until 1986 with the creation of the last community, Umiujaq.
Known as ``New Quebec'' (from 1912 to 1986), Umiujaq was the subject of
successive proactive development policies. Between the beginning of the
Cold War, when the first villages were established, and 1986, when the
last village was created---in less than thirty years---fourteen
``northern villages'' were built \textit{ex nihilo} along the coast and
main rivers, sedentarizing Inuit (and Cree, and Naskapi) society in
Nunavik.

The disruptive event that was selected for the creation of the
International Human-Environment Observatory (in french Observatoire Hommes-Milieux, OHMi) Nunavik is the 2011 Northern Plan \citep{Decaulneetal2020}, which represents a tipping point
towards a real momentum of development and the growth of the Inuit
population that is transforming the traditional socio-ecosystem. The
urbanization that has been ``built from scratch'' as a result of the
transfer of a model imported from the ``south'' is gradually being
absorbed into the indigenous northern socio-ecosystem. Yet, if there is
urbanization, having been imposed in just a few decades, can we speak
of urbanity, {i.e.,} of an Inuit urban experience? In her
documentary ``If Time Permits'', Inuit artist \'{E}lisapie Isaac recalls
the desire to live in the city that led her to emigrate from Salluit to
Montreal: ``I took the risk of leaving, the immensity of the ice and
land oppressed me'' [\citealp{Isaac2003}, 15$'$42$''$].
Two years ago, a teenager
from Kuujjuaq \citep{Huctinetal2022} explained that, in her opinion,
Kuujjuaq---the Nunavik capital, population 2,700 in 2021---is not a
city, because there is no constant Internet access and no traffic
lights.

This paper focuses on the contributions of OHMi Nunavik to the study of
the transformation of this traditional indigenous arctic
socio-ecosystem by rapidly expanding urbanization. OHMi is an
integrative\break research program that studies the complex, systemic issues
inherent in the emergence of urbanization in terms of territorial,
energy, food and hazard mutations and adaptations. It proposes a global
approach to be articulated with holistic Inuit thinking, which was
faced with the urban fact and has since tried to take hold of it. This
integrative perspective on the urbanization process in Nunavik revolves
around the pivotal notions of urbanurbanity or ``urban fact-urban
effect''  \citep{Desbiens2017} in an indigenous context within the
world system, as Nunavik has also entered what  \citet{Chenorkian2020b}
calls the ``Anthroposphere''.

The urban issue, as addressed within the interdisciplinary framework of
OHMi Nunavik, will be presented first and Nunavik's urban expressions
(facts and effects) will be developed through a consideration of OHMi
Nunavik's research programs.

\section{The interdisciplinary system of the human-environment
observatory and the urban\break environment in Nunavik}

The Laboratoire d'Excellence (LabEx) framework on interdisciplinary
research on Human-Environment Interactions (DRIIHM) includes thirteen
Human-Environment Observatories as of 2023, eight in France and
overseas (OHM) and five international observatories (OHMi). OHMi
Nunavik includes various thematic research projects, selected by the
OHMi Board of Directors and by regional government representatives from
the Quebec Arctic. Although the socio-ecological framework of OHMi, the
North Plan, confirmed the urbanization of Nunavik in 1986, the
urbanization issue is not the subject of any specific research project
within the OHMi Nunavik. This issue is addressed here as a
cross-cutting research subject, which puts into perspective the
complementary nature of the research results obtained within OHMi
Nunavik's integrative matrix. Several research projects conducted at
this observatory since 2014 are remobilized here, insofar as they
contribute, through their interdisciplinarity, to a reading of the
urban phenomenon as a visible sign of the transformation of the
traditional socio-ecosystem: resilience of indigenous territoriality
(Nuna research project), food self-sufficiency and greenhouses
(Niqiliriniq research project), energy self-sufficiency (Siqiniq),
slopes and hazards (Kinngaq).}

\subsection{OHMi Nunavik: an integrative research\break matrix for the study
of indigenous urban\break complexity}

In the Anthropocene era and during its acceleration
\citep{Steffenetal2015}, understanding complexity in a ``single
EcoSystem -- Single ES''  \citep[][p. 280]{Chenorkian2020a} such as
Nunavik requires ``joint and convergent approaches to ES that interact
(Environmental Sciences, {i.e.,} earth, life, human and social
sciences) and [\ldots{]} a systemic study process, {i.e.,} one that
takes into consideration the objects involved and their organization,
and the nature and dynamics of the interactions they develop between
them.'' \citep[][p. 279]{Chenorkian2020a}. 

The thirteen observatories constitute critical case studies,
expressions of ``anthropized sites hit by a `disrupting event' which
has upset the ecological, economic and social balances that have
developed over decades in the local socio-ecological conditions'' 
\citep[][p. 292]{Chenorkian2020b}; ``[{\ldots}] a `social-ecological
framework', which is the socioecological context of the place, a
`disrupting event', which disrupts it, and a `focal object', the
product of the first two elements''  [\citealp{Chenorkian2020a}, 
p.~280; \citealp{Chenorkian2020b}, p.~294] constitute the OHM ternary.

For OHMi Nunavik (Figure~\ref{fig1}), the relevant disruptive event is
the North Plan (2011), a mega-program for the economic development of
Quebec's far North over a 25-year period launched by the Jean Charest
government in Quebec City in 2011. At the time of its launch, however,
the 2011 North Plan aroused a great deal of emotion and opposition 
\citep[][p. 284]{Simard2017} due to the postcolonial context in
Nunavik, leaving little room for local indigenous consultation. The
political tribulations of the 2011 North Plan prompted an immediate
reaction, leading to the creation of an Inuit action plan in 2014: the
Parnasimautik Plan  \citep{ARK2014}. Similarly, in 2020, the Quebec
government scaled back some of its ambitions with a new, more measured
northern action plan, proposed over a probationary period from 2020 to
2023. Although the 2011 referendum on self-determination proved to be a
negative initiative, the ``march towards Nunavik self-government'' is
the cornerstone of the new Makivik government and its President, whose
``main interest is to help my Inuit family control its own
development''  \citep[][p. 8]{Pelouas2022}.

\begin{figure}
\vspace*{-2pt}
\includegraphics{fig01}
\vspace*{-2pt}
\caption{OHMi Nunavik ternary components related to the LabEx DRIIHM
vocabulary, together with the main issues targeted.\label{fig1}}
\vspace*{-4pt}
\end{figure}

OHMi Nunavik aims to better understand the cumulative impacts of the
2011 North Plan and its successors, including the Parnasimautik
Indigenous report \citep{Decaulneetal2020}. However, it is important to
emphasize that this disruptive event for OHMi Nunavik is the result of
a more global process (Figure~\ref{fig1}), linked to the joint
acceleration of demography and sedentarization since the 1950s that has
profoundly transformed the Inuit relationship to the territory and
prefigured its urbanization.

To ensure that OHMi Nunavik resonates with indigenous communities, the
name Tukisik (\textit{Tukisigasuaqatigit}: Understanding together) was
adopted by the local partners as a translation of its more complicated
acronym. This ``knowledge-sharing'' name in Inuktitut---the Inuit
language---highlights the research effort in partnership with Nunavik's
indigenous peoples; it counters the notion of unilateral observation,
denied in this territory that massively rejects domination from the
South. As a result, OHMi Nunavik has been set up as part of a
multilateral partnership that includes French (CNRS) and Quebec (Centre
d'Etudes Nordiques, CEN) research institutions collaborating with Inuit
scientific and political institutions (Kativik Regional Government,
Makivik Corporation and its Research Centre). Through this goal of
co-constructing research, OHMi Nunavik is engaged in the indigenization
and decolonization of research in the Arctic environment 
\citep{Smith2021,Radcliffe2017}. Scientific projects are evaluated by a
Franco-Quebec-Inuit committee and approved by Nunavik authorities
(Kativik Regional Government, Makivik Corporation), which ``aims, in a
process of reciprocal knowledge, to co-create and value local
scientific knowledge and know-how in order to better understand and
raise awareness of the Arctic socio-ecological system at different
scales and for different audiences (Indigenous people, Euro-Canadians,
scientists, political decision-makers and the general public).'' 
\citep[][p. 3]{Decaulneetal2020}.

By integrating academic and indigenous approaches to the co-production
of knowledge, OHMi Nunavik adopts the integrative ``global ecology''
approach  \citep[][p. 294]{Chenorkian2020b} in both senses of the
term: on the one hand, the integration of diverse scientific
disciplines around projects that respond to issues identified by Inuit
communities \citep{Decaulneetal2020}; and on the other hand, through
the integration of different players from different cultures
(researchers--inhabitants--political decision-makers, Western dualist
culture and indigenous holistic culture). Beyond the scientific and
applied research that meets the expectations of Inuit society, OHMi
Nunavik aims to ``advise political or economic decision-makers and
social participants as fully as possible when they come to make their
choices. In this way, the OHM position researchers within society'' 
\citep[][p. 294]{Chenorkian2020b}, in synergy with the inuit new
health research framework (Inuit Tapiriit Katanami) signed with the
Government of Canada in 2018, and the Memorandum of Understanding
signed between OHMi and the Kativik Regional\break Government, the Makivik
Research Centre in 2016.

\subsection{The urban in Nunavik, through the prism of some OHMi
research projects}

The various research projects carried out by OHMi Nunavik help create
greater understanding and\break unravel the complexity of socio-ecosystems
disrupted by the founding event, the North Plan. This vast development
plan helped to establish and develop the urban phenomenon at the
forefront of the sedentarization process completed in 1986 (see above).
OHMi Nunavik's research has been conceived within a panarchic model
that considers the different temporalities that express themselves on a
territory, as well as the multiscalar nature of different processes
that question both the local and the global \citep{Decaulneetal2020}. 

In this sense, the urban phenomenon is part of a complex system that
OHMi Nunavik can help to describe and interpret. Quoting \citet{Jacobs1993},
who saw the city as a complex but organized whole,  \citet[][p.
152]{Desbiens2017} states that: ``even if they are much smaller in size
(than American cities), the northern villages of Nunavik also present
such complexity'' (translated from French). This Arctic urban
complexity is the product of colonial history, different settlement
phases, mobilities including traditional nomadism, and is fundamentally
marked by the cold  \citep{Vaguet2016,Vaguet2019}. 
\citet{Chartier2020} adds that ``Nordic cities are multicultural
laboratories'', and refers to Zamyatin (2020), for whom the
heterogeneous character of these Nordic cities is conducive to ``the
possibility of the emergence of new geocultural images that link
experience, culture and climatic conditions [\ldots]. The `insular'
character of northern cities thus makes it possible to define oneself
in relation to the territory and in opposition to the rest of the
world, which is more densely populated.'' \citep[][p. 28, translated
from French]{Chartier2020}.

This complexity of the urban will be investigated here through the
prism of various OHMi Nunavik research projects (Figure~\ref{fig2}),
which, as part of an interdisciplinary dialogue initiated by the
various teams, aim to decompartmentalize the research conducted in
``enlightened disciplinarity''  \citep{Chenorkian2020a} and articulate
it around the urbanity issue.

\begin{figure}
\vspace*{2pt}
\includegraphics{fig02}
\vspace*{2pt}
\caption{Interdisciplinary and thematic complementarity between four
OHMi Nunavik projects to examine the impact of the urban in Nunavik's
socio-ecosystem.\label{fig2}}
\vspace*{2pt}
\end{figure}

Thus, the rapidly expanding Inuit urban phenomenon involves a
combination of two processes inherent to sedentarization: fixity (in
contrast to the seasonal mobility of nomadism) and population
concentration (in contrast to the dispersal of camps). Cause and effect
relations generate another process, that of adaptation to a new way of
life and the upheaval of mobility. Itinerant mobility by dog sled or
boat has been largely replaced over short \mbox{distances} by snowmobiles,
quads and $4\times 4$ vehicles, and over long distances by airplanes
between villages and connections with the South
\citep{JolietChanteloup2020}.\looseness=-1

It is worth noting that in just over thirty years, an archipelago of
fourteen coastal urban communities has been created from scratch (today
numbering between 400 and 2700 inhabitants). They are connected by air
travel, as arctic physical conditions make it impossible to build roads
between them. Reciprocally, these new forms of mobility are
transforming territoriality between generations, as well as between
families, according to each individual's networks, standard of living
or professional and family activities (Nuna project). This urban
archipelago (as well as the extraction of natural resources) supports
and is complemented by the protection of nature, with the development
of a matrix of national parks anchored to the villages of Nunavik (Nuna
project).

These renewed territorialities take place in an environment that is
itself subject to major changes, such as climate changes that have led
to increased avalanche risks threatening urban extensions (Kinngaq
project). Finally, every urban core is based on energy dependence or
autonomy (Siqiniq project) and food self-sufficiency (Niqiliriniq
project).

To fully understand the complexity of the urban phenomenon in Nunavik,
as studied in OHMi Nunavik's research projects, we approach the
phenomenon through a diachronic analysis of urbanization (urban facts)
and urbanity (urban effects).

\section{Urban fact in Nunavik}

The urban phenomenon in Nunavik is presented on two scales of space and
time: its diachronic constitution on the territory of Nunavik, and the
current components of the northern village. It is then presented
through two OHMi research programs focusing on the notion of risks
faced by urban development, and the notion of energy and food
sovereignty inherent in the development of urban greenhouse farming.

\subsection{Urban fact constitution in Nunavik}

The urban process that has been developing in Nunavik since the
mid-twentieth century is a recent phenomenon that has been
co-constructed by combining external Euro-Canadian state impulses and
Inuit adaptation (Figure~\ref{fig3}). Inspired by 
\citet{Desbiens2017}, the urban fact is defined here as the
morphological characterization of the urban archipelago and its typical
urban core.

\begin{figure*}
\vspace*{3pt}
\includegraphics{fig03}
\caption{Rapid evolution of Nunavik's urbanization process since the
1950s, leading to globalization, as Nunavik Inuit are closely related
to Inuit Nunangat (Canadian Inuit: from west to east Nunavut, Nunavik
and Nunatsiavut) and pan-Arctic Inuit (aggregating Alaska and Greenland
Inuit), and all other southern countries.\label{fig3}}
\vspace*{3pt}
\end{figure*}

\citet{BretonCloutier2017} identify three phases in the socio-spatial
organization of urban development in Nunavik. Each of these phases saw
the emergence of new facilities and services, shaping today's urban
landscape. The first phase, from 1960 to 1975, accelerated the
sedentarization of families residing near trading posts and certain
services implemented by the federal and provincial governments.
Semi-permanent infrastructures were created  \citep{Roy1971} by a
federal program of one-room `matchbox' housing, launched in 1959. The
international context of the Cold War extended certain services in
alignment with military resources such as airports and community radios
\citep{BriereLaugrand2017}. 

The second phase, from 1975 to 2000, was marked by the James Bay and
Northern Quebec Agreement (JBNQA). This phase led to the emergence of
Inuit institutions such as the Makivik Corporation and the Kativik
Regional Government. The JBNQA created fourteen municipalities and
their municipal councils, with a land regime organized into three
categories of land ownership and associated rights, \mbox{including} Category
1 that was reserved for the urban location of new villages. In 1981,
the federal government transferred the housing stock to the management
of the Soci\'{e}t\'{e} d'Habitation du Qu\'{e}bec. The latter then
modernized housing with dedicated services. These developments extended
the municipal model of southern Quebec into the north.

The third phase identified by  \citet{BretonCloutier2017} began in the
2000s, when development was taken over locally. The 2000s saw the
creation of the Kativik Municipal Housing Bureau, which managed 93\% of
Nunavik's housing stock. At that time, housing consisted mainly of
social housing. Parallel to this, the Makivik corporation set up a
Construction Division to help develop the Inuit housing stock. The
Land-Use Committees were established to promote local involvement in
the development of municipalities and villages.

The work of OHMi Nunavik shows that a fourth phase could be added to
the three previously identified: with the introduction of the North
plan in 2011, the existing socio-system experienced a transformation
that continues to this day. Its voluntarist development policy, the
massive investments associated with it and the counter-plan proposed in
response to the Inuit (Parnassimautik) have generated strategies of
adaptation, resilience and new aspirations. This current period
suggests that the urban fact and the indigenous urban effect may be in
sync or out of sync, thanks to self-determination based on a quest for
cultural, food, energy and environmental sovereignty, to which the OHMi
Nunavik has responded with a number of research projects.

At the level of each urban entity, the typical urban pattern imported
from the South is transposed to Arctic conditions and adapted to
community lifestyles by the Inuit. This pattern is currently
characterized by:
\begin{itemize}
\item coastal location and stilt architecture. The ground and climate do
not allow running water to be incorporated into the dwellings. The
fourteen villages were built on the coast or a few kilometres back
along the larger coastal rivers close to Indigenous camps (as was also
true of trading posts).
\item dense settlement, consisting of a rental park of single-storey double
dwellings, one or two churches (Protestant and sometimes Catholic), a
town hall, a school, a dispensary, an oil tank, a community freezer, a
general store (Co-op), a hotel (Co-op), an airport (Air Inuit), a
drinking water supply station, and a fire station. The typical village
is often complemented by a second Northern chain general store (heir to
the Hudson's Bay Company store).
\end{itemize}

Many more new facilities and services are being developed, such as a
youth center  \citep{BlaisVachon2020,Antomarchi2021} or
intergenerational house, a gymnasium and skating rink (outdoor or
indoor), school transportation and a greenhouse
\citep{Lamaliceetal2016}. In the immediate or relative periphery, each
village has a harbor protected by riprap, one or two roads to the
harbor, an airport, a waste disposal center, a wastewater treatment
plant and basin, a cemetery, and even mining sites and the entrance to
national parks.

The emergence of private services (grocery store, restaurant, bar, inn)
and the purchase of homes by individuals are features of the two
largest urban communities: Kuujjuaq and Kuujjurapik.

For the architecture, prefabricated wood construction prevails, clad in
colored or varnished facades, with colored metal for the two general
stores and the fire station. With regard to urban planning, the choice
of the site and layout, as well as the orientation of the buildings,
respond to an evolving functional logic. Openings have been enlarged,
bay windows have been created, and buildings and openings are oriented
towards the surrounding landscape.

The exponential demographic growth of Nunavimmiut (Nunavik's
inhabitants) has led to a major urban and peri-urban phenomenon:
peripheral expansion and \textit{de facto} exposure to hazards
(landslides, permafrost subsidence, avalanches and landslides), studied
by the Kinngaq research project. The deployment of a greenhouse network
and an \textit{ad hoc} energy resource in the villages is a second
original urban fact that the Siqiniq and Niqiliriniq scientific
projects are investigating.

\subsection{Assessing the vulnerability of urban development and
deploying greenhouses}

\subsubsection{Monitoring and anticipating arctic risks and urban
vulnerability in Nunavik}

The emergence of urban development in Nunavik, and \textit{a fortiori}
its sprawl over an open territory, is accompanied by its corollary, the
emergence of the\break notion of risk in the face of the multiplication of
fixed developments (Kinngaq project). This is an important bifurcation
in Nunavik's socio-ecosystem. Risk is understood here in its general
sense as the consequence of a natural hazard in a population, its
infrastructure and its territory, depending on the vulnerability of the
society and territory concerned  \citep{LeoneVinet2006}. The appearance
of fixed, perennial stakes, such as villages and all associated
anthropogenic constructions, is an essential element of the new
vulnerability of the Nunavik population, which has become urban even
though it lives in ``small'' villages [from 209 to 2754 inhabitants
according to\break Statistics Canada 2016, in
\citealp{Duhaimeetal2021}].\unskip\break
Natural hazards are not new elements in the Inuit landscape; the work
of \citet{Veilleuxetal2020,Bhiryetal2019} and
\citet{Decaulneetal2018} demonstrate that slope processes, for example,
have been active on Nunavik's slopes since the start of the last major
deglaciation, which began between 8500 and 6000 BP depending on the
specific location in Nunavik. However, until the 1950s, the Inuit
populations that had been living in the Arctic for around 6000 years,
and in Nunavik for around 4500 years \citep{Bhiryetal2021}, were
nomadic. They moved in small family groups between summer camps that
were located in the valleys drained by the small coastal rivers (up to
around 40 km from the coast) and winter camps located on the coast or
nearby islands, depending on their needs (Figure~\ref{fig4}A) Each of
the camps brought together only two to three families. From the 1800s
onwards, Hudson's Bay Company trading posts were monopolies that
established the fur trade (mainly in the form of bartering), and became
general retail stores after 1870. The transition to Inuit
sedentarization began through the dependence that developed between
Indigenous peoples and the Euro-Canadians who offered manufactured
goods (Figure~\ref{fig4}B), which led to a contraction of the space
covered by the Inuit populations  \citep{Heyes2007}. However, while the
trading posts were attractive and tended to unite the population that
settled nearby, the traditional way of life was maintained until the
1950s to 1970s. It was then that the various villages were successively
created (Figure~\ref{fig4}C) in a process that lasted until 1987 when
Umiujaq, the fourteenth and last village, was assimilated as a
``northern village'' \citep{KativikEnvironmentalQualityCommission2009}.

\begin{figure*}
\includegraphics{fig04}
\caption{The contraction of Nunavik's population over the past two
centuries or so, from the dispersal of Inuit camps (A---wintering on
the coast and summering in retrolittoral positions) to the growth of
trading and commercial posts (B), then sedentarization in the 14
present-day villages along the coastline (C) [modified from
\citealp{Heyes2007}; Archives of Manitoba].\label{fig4}}
\end{figure*}

The work of \citet{Grenier2022}
and \citet{Grenieretal2023} focuses on the weather
conditions preceding the onset of avalanches at Umiujaq, pinpointing
the periods of greatest potential danger for traffic on the portion of
the trail most likely to present a hazard to winter or spring traffic
at the foot of the slope. It is therefore the trail leading from the
village to Lake Tasiujaq that represents a major concern for traffic
around Umiujaq, which is used by local populations to access
traditional activities on the territory (fishing, hunting, trapping on
the shores of the lake and adjacent waterways). This road is all the
more important for traffic and access to the ``land''; it furthermore
represents the gateway to Tursujuq National Park, created in 2013 and
used by tourists on their way to ``nature'' activities.

The notion of risk, as it relates to slope processes and avalanches in
particular, is even more visible in Kangiqsualujjuaq. In the early
hours of 1999, the village was devastated by an avalanche that
partially buried the gymnasium where villagers were celebrating the New
Year \citep{Decaulneetal2021}. This event forced a spatial
reorganization of the community, which had to retreat from the slope at
the foot of which dwellings and activities had been established since
the village's creation and initial expansion\break (Figure~\ref{fig5}).

\begin{figure*}
%\vspace*{-3pt}
\includegraphics{fig05}
%\vspace*{-3pt}
\caption{The development of Kangiqsualujjuaq illustrated from the late
1950s to the present day; as the area grew during the 1960s and 70s,
buildings, initially built on the riverbanks, multiplied at the foot of
the slope; the avalanche of 1999 triggered a spatial reorganization
that re-exploited the riverbanks and valley floor (original watercolor
by Orsane Rousset, 2021).
\label{fig5}}
%\vspace*{-7pt}
\end{figure*}

Geomorphological studies on the slopes of the central islands of Lake
Wiy\^{a}sh\^{a}kim\^{i}, in the southwestern part of Nunavik, highlight
the importance of evidence of avalanche activity on slopes
corresponding to current dynamics \citep{Decaulneetal2018}. These
findings are reinforced by the results of work by  \citet{Veilleux2019}
and \citet{Veilleuxetal2020},
concluding similar avalanche dynamics
from morphometric analyses of slope deposits near Umiujaq. Through the
analysis of images from self-triggering cameras,
\citet{Veilleuxetal2021} revealed the frequency of avalanche processes
during winter and spring, linked to the breakup of a summit snow
cornice on the slopes near the village of Umiujaq. The avalanche
deposition zone occasionally comes dangerously close to the road when
avalanches have a long travel distance \citep{Veilleuxetal2021}.

\subsubsection{Arctic experimentation with greenhouses and a specific
local energy source}

The aim of greenhouse farming is to enable Nunavik communities to grow
their own food and strengthen their food self-sufficiency, while
reducing their dependence on imported foods \citep{Lamaliceetal2016}.
In this remote and isolated region, fresh plants are indeed scarce and
expensive, or even totally absent for part of the year. Greenhouse
farming thus makes it possible to produce fresh vegetables locally that
have a higher nutritional quality than processed or canned foods, while
limiting greenhouse gas emissions linked to transport.

The greenhouse concept (Figure~\ref{fig6}A) does have one drawback,
however. It is a model ``imported'' from the milder climate of the
south, and therefore poorly suited to Nunavik, since the growing season
is only about four months, from late May to late\break September.

\begin{figure*}
\vspace*{-3pt}
\includegraphics{fig06}
\vspace*{-3pt}
\caption{Energy adapted to greenhouses in Kuujjuaq. (A) Outside view of
the community greenhouse, built in 2021; (B) principle of a Chinese
greenhouse \citep[from][]{Caoetal2019};
(C) inside the greenhouse before and (D)
after installation of the thermal storage system (photos from Paul
Pich\'{e}, 2020).\label{fig6}}
\vspace*{-3pt}
\end{figure*}

The Siqiniq projects led by OHMi Nunavik were developed to study the
thermal behavior of greenhouses and identify avenues for improvement. A
measurement campaign (June 2016 to May 2018) initially showed that the
growing season was reduced due to too low temperatures at night, while
paradoxically daytime temperatures could be very high (even too high)
and require ventilation \citep{Piche2021}.
This initial observation
led to the design and installation of an energy storage system that it
is based on a unique low-tech approach using simple technologies, local
material and human resources. The system is based on rock beds placed
beneath the cultivated areas, which are elevated in a manner that
facilitates the work of the gardeners, but also isolates the soil from
the ground (Figure~\ref{fig6}C,D).

A comparison of the growing seasons before and after the system was
installed showed a reduction in the temperature amplitude inside the
greenhouse ({i.e.}, a better decoupling between the greenhouse's
internal and external climates), as well as an increase in the growing
period  \citep{Picheetal2020}.

This work to adapt the greenhouse was constrained by the need to
preserve the existing structure, {i.e.}, a conventional temperate-zone
greenhouse that is not optimal for cold climates. There are, however,
structures that are much better adapted to these climates, such as
Chinese greenhouses (Figure~\ref{fig6}B), also known as ``passive solar
greenhouses'': these are structures specially designed for cold
climates that can be an interesting alternative to greenhouses imported
from the south, which are not adapted to Nunavik's climatic conditions.
These greenhouses are designed to maximize the use of solar energy
while minimizing heat loss. In particular, they have a sloping south
face to enable better sunlight capture. The main advantage of Chinese
greenhouses is their ability to store heat on sunny days, thanks to the
thermal mass of the north wall, which acts as a heat accumulator. This
heat is then redistributed at night to maintain an optimum temperature
inside the\break greenhouse, reducing the need for an additional heating
source.

The integration of renewable resources (wind and solar) is also a way
of extending the growing season and working toward energy autonomy, by
enabling supplementary heating (solar thermal) or by providing the
electrical consumption essential for ventilation, for example  [Kumar,
2022]. It is also possible to implement longer-term (seasonal) storage
strategies to store surplus summer energy and further extend the
growing season  \citep{Giordanoetal2021}.

The Niqiliriniq project has demonstrated that greenhouse farming
represents an opportunity to diversify the diet and produce fresh,
high-quality vegetables locally, while reducing dependence on imported
food \citep{Lamaliceetal2018}. However, for this practice to be adapted
to northern climatic conditions, it is necessary to develop greenhouses
specially designed for these regions, that consider the constraints
associated with cold, wind, snow and low winter light. The development
of this type of northern greenhouse farming therefore requires specific
research and technological development, as well as consideration of
traditional knowledge and practices of local populations in terms of
cultivation and natural resource management.

In this way, the Kinngaq, Siqiniq and Niqiliriniq projects have
provided relevant data to meet the urgent needs of northern villages,
particularly in terms of exposure and vulnerability to natural hazards
for more appropriate territorial planning, and also to promote energy
security and food sovereignty.

\section{What is the inuit urban effect?}

Living in an equipped prefabricated house, buying fruit and vegetables
or sweets and soft drinks at the supermarket, consulting the town hall,
playing Bingo, dropping by the municipal freezer, stopping at the Stop
sign with your quad or pickup, taking the shuttle to the airport,\,\ldots\ 
are all practices and feelings that ``make town'' or ``Urban Effect'',
as described in  \citet[][p. 152]{Desbiens2017}: ``to speak of an
effect rather than an urban fact focuses the analysis on the
geographical, historical and cultural specificity of Nordic communities
which, after decades of external influence, are experiencing
urbanization as another model of living. This makes it possible [\ldots]
to study the subjectivity of the Inuit, {i.e.}, the active part they
play in these urbanization processes'' (translated from French). The
urban fact being exogenous and imposed, the urban effect is a real
question. A period of adaptation has been necessary, and, \textit{de
facto}, the urban fact and the urban effect have been out of sync.

Sedentarization has indeed led to a reorganization of community life
within villages, hitherto mobile and scattered across the territory
according to the feeding seasons. Once seen solely as ``a point of
service, [the village] has now become the main center of activity for a
large part of the population''  \citep[][p. 94, translated from
French]{BretonCloutier2017}. Even so, life in the territory and
access to it remain an essential part of the Nunavimmiut way of 
life. In fact, to
compensate for the loss of traditional seasonal nomadic camps and
perpetuate their activities on the land over short periods of time,
urban Inuit build handcrafted cabins on the land, using materials
salvaged from dumps. The traditional activities of hunting, fishing and
gathering in addition to new leisure practices organize a life outside
the village or on its outskirts (Nuna project). Referring to 
\citet{Remyetal1991},
\citet[][p.~96]{BretonCloutier2017} state that: ``rather than
opposing each other, the Inuit adopt a `transactional' strategy''.
In other words,
``they integrate the allocation of fixed, concentrated housing, while
allowing the traditional way of\break inhabiting the territory to express
itself. Homemade cabins built from [outside the village] correspond to
the Inuit way of managing space.'' \citep[][p. 96, translated from
French]{BretonCloutier2017}. The transition in Inuit ways of living
that took place in the first half of the twentieth century, illustrated
in some of publications titles such as ``from the igloo to the council
flat''  \citep{Duhaime1985} or ``from the sea ice to the freezer'' 
\citep{Martin2003}, had a major impact on the foundations of Inuit
culture (modes of travel, pace of life, activities practiced). The fact
remains, however, that the way of living in the city and the formation
of the city remain quite hybrid for these northern communities, with
Indigenous peoples playing ``an active part (\ldots) in the development of
these new ways of appropriating the territory.'' 
\citep[][p. 151, translated from French]{Desbiens2017}.

This reinvented urbanity is addressed through two examples from OHMi
projects: the Nuna project dealing with the indigenous emic view of the
territory \citep{Herrmannetal2023,Jolietetal2021, Chanteloupetal2019}
and the Niqiliriniq project addressing issues of food security and
sovereignty in the city\break \citep{Rapinskietal2023}.

\subsection{Urbanity, a reinvented territoriality?}

In Nunavik, traditional territoriality is being disrupted by
urbanization. The holistic indigenous conception of Mother Earth
endures, as a Kuujjuarapik elder testified: ``So, I grew up in the camp
for 10 years [\ldots] we didn't have TV, no iPad, no radio. Just pure
Earth.'' \citep[][p. 375]{LandisHome2016,Chanteloupetal2018}.
Similarly, all the generations of the village of Umiujaq evoke the
presence of different types of spirits both in town and on traditional
territory \citep{SpiritsAroundUs2019}. Yet many adaptations attest to the
reinvention of Inuit territoriality since the creation of the villages.

The five participatory videos (Nuna project) made by Nunavimmiut pupils
show how the students and adults adopt strategies for appropriating
urbanity (Figure~\ref{fig7}A)
\citep{Herrmannetal2023,Jolietetal2021,Chanteloupetal2018}.

\begin{figure*}
\vspace*{-2pt}
\includegraphics{fig07}
\vspace*{-2pt}
\caption{Screenshots from short films made by pupils and students from
Nunavik schools as part of the Nuna project. (A) young people on the
street in Umiujaq. [{\textcopyright} Screenshot of 
\citealp{SpiritsAroundUs2019}];\break 
(B) in front of the school, teenagers improvise a game of street
field hockey. [{\textcopyright} Screenshot of 
\citealp{OurCultureOurLand2017}]; 
(C) presentation of the village of Ivujivik by a student
[{\textcopyright} Screenshot of \citealp{Purtujuq-OntheTop2023}];
(D) a skidoo ride outside the village, view of Kangiqsujuaq [{\textcopyright}
Screenshot of \citealp{OurCultureOurLand2017}]; (E) pickup truck, electric
wires and stop sign in Kangiqsujuaq [{\textcopyright} Screenshot of 
\citealp{OurCultureOurLand2017}].\label{fig7}}
\vspace*{-2pt}
\end{figure*}

These videos reveal some striking urban effects: a divide between
generations born before and after the creation of the villages; a
shared sense of modernity and spatial confinement; the hijacking of
certain\break ``urban objects'' (the kitchen, the dressing room, the municipal
freezer, the construction of cabins around the village).

\subsubsection{The urban effect divided along generational lines}

The question of the urban effect now varies from generation to
generation, depending on whether they were born before or after the
establishment of the villages: ``It's different today than it was
thirty-five years ago. [\ldots] It's the new generation, they grow up
differently. Society is different.'' [interview 2022]
(Figure~\ref{fig7}B).

{E}{lders and adults born before sedentarization,} {{i.e.}}{, in camps,
see the city or village as an extra-territorial parenthesis 
\citep{Chanteloupetal2018,Collignon1996}. In contrast, young people
born in hospitals (mainly Puvirnituq, Montreal or Quebec City) and who
grew up in the village see it as a given that they have made their own
\citep{JolietChanteloup2021}.}

\subsubsection{A shared feeling of modernity and confinement}

``I think young people rather be connected to the world now, if you put
them in isolation they would be bored. What am I doing here? Why am I
hunting?'' [interview 2022]: young people like to play
field hockey in the frozen street, go out on quads or in pick-up
trucks, revisit the design of their traditional clothing 
\citep{OurCultureOurLand2017}, go to the gym and the arena 
\citep{SpiritsAroundUs2019}, etc.

Although the communities average between 600 to 700 inhabitants, the
inhabitants have basic modern equipment, as can be seen in 
\citet{Purtujuq-OntheTop2023} made by the pupils of the Nuvviti school in Ivujivik
as part of the Nuna project: ``This is our school, our only store, the
airport. It's pretty small, but we can work with it, so it's ok.''
(Figure~\ref{fig7}C).

Conversely, some people testify to a feeling of urban oppression, for
example in 
\citet{OurCultureOurLand2017} in Kangiqsujuaq: ``[\ldots] you
live in a small community, and you see the same people every day, but
when you get fed up with the people, you can always go to the land
[\ldots] it's very good to have a fresh air.'' (Figure~\ref{fig7}D).

\subsubsection{Detour and adaptation of certain urban objects}

In the fullyequipped kitchen, meals are sometimes not eaten at the
table but, as in the camp, on a cardboard box on the floor; the
dressing room is used to dry skins progressively; studios are built for
young couples---who used to live in a family community in the same camp
and then in the same house; the windows of the houses are larger and
oriented towards a preferred view. Traffic in the village is marked by
a single road sign, the Stop sign, translated into Inuktitut
(Figure~\ref{fig7}E).

Instead of food caches in the camps, a municipal freezer has been
created, set up by the Inuit in each village, to store country food and
share it according to community tradition: ``We have a community
freezer, to share food we bring from the land, and to keep our culture
alive.'' \citep{LandisHome2016}.

Finally, the village model of the ``solid'' house is transposed to the
traditional territory. Inuit salvage discarded materials from garbage
dumps and build cabins that serve as fixed or sedentary camps instead
of seasonal tents.

Through the short films made by young people in their communities, the
Nuna research project demonstrates that the village and the territory
are complementary, while for the elders, the village remains an imposed
graft. The emergence of urban life is reflected in the videos by the
appropriation of the street in winter, an expression of modern
services, sometimes confined, and outside a form of urban detour with
the construction of ``hard'' huts in the territory, replacing seasonal
camps. The Niqiliriniq research project looked at the disruption of
food practices that are significant aspects of urban life.

\subsection{The reinvention of a food landscape? Between food imbalance
and food sovereignty complementary to country food}

The Inuit urban effect is also visible in the brutal nutritional
transition that has taken place, with a kitchen equipped for cooking
and a store for shopping, with major health repercussions for Inuit
populations. As a result, the traditional Inuit diet from land and
sea-based resources (``country food'') has evolved towards the
integration of market food products imported from the South [which
currently contributes up to 72\% (elders) and 89\% (youth) of energy
intake in Inuit diet, according to  \citealp{BlanchetRochette2008}, p.
III]. These are typically ultra-processed foods: ``I don't want to be
left behind, with my veils, my food, with my store-bought food, I
rather eat store-bought food than country food now today. Because
country food is mostly boiled, mostly fried, there is no mix, it's
always those three. No spice, no mixed, strict boiled, strict fries, so
maybe I got tired of that'' [Interview 2022].

This ``westernization of the diet'' \citep[][p. 238]{Couniletal2011}
has led to a decline in the contribution of traditional foods to energy
intake in favor of grocery-bought products, particularly among young
people: ``I rather go with store-bought food. But the further north you
go, like in Sannikiluak, if you put a seal meal all the children will
go there. But here, if I put it on at my grandkids, they said what's
the heck is that, I don't want to see it, it looks terrible, that's
their attitude today, the kids'' (op cit).

This context has prompted residents to look for solutions to regain
food sovereignty in the village. Thus, the actionresearch carried out
as part of the Niqiliriniq project addresses the major challenges of
food security in the Nunavik communities of Kuujjuaq, Umiujaq and
Kangiqsujuaq, through the development of northern agriculture.

Gardening initiatives (Niqiliriniq project) in greenhouses, cold layers
or even at home, aim to enable Nunavik communities to grow their own
food and strengthen their food self-sufficiency, while reducing their
dependence on imported food \citep{Lamaliceetal2018}. As noted above,
fresh plants are scarce and expensive, or even totally absent for part
of the year. Greenhouse farming and gardening thus make it possible to
produce fresh vegetables locally, of higher nutritional quality than
processed or canned foods, while limiting greenhouse gas emissions
linked to transport  \citep{Lamalice2019}.

This local cultivation, especially of green vegetables, enables
residents to gather around an activity that promotes social cohesion
and strengthens community ties \citep{Lamaliceetal2016}. Two community
greenhouses have been built in Kuujjuaq to fulfil these various roles.
Plots of land are allocated to village residents by lottery, and
everyone is free to grow their own vegetables.

\section{Discussion: the OHM device on the Nunavik territory}

The work of OHMi Nunavik focuses on the socio-ecosystem of an inuit
territory, jointly and fundamentally environmental and human, in which
indigenous ways of apprehending the world differ from those of
Euro-Canadians, which are still dominant in the Arctic. Identifying
these conceptions and understanding their complexity, while avoiding
the cultural pitfalls of domination or competition, is essential
\citep{Decaulneetal2020}.

\subsection{Adapting the research methods to the Nunavik context}

One of OHMi Nunavik's challenges is to integrate the complexity of
knowledges. Hybridizing Indigenous  \citep{Chilisa2012} and Western
research methods to co-construct knowledge is one of OHMi Nunavik's
aims. Members of the communities in which the projects take place are
involved at various levels, with the dual aim of benefiting from the
project implementation from an educational and societal point of view
on the one hand, and ensuring adequate data acquisition on the other,
the latter objective serving the former. Implementing hybrid
methodologies between Western and indigenous knowledge is a complex and
time-consuming process, requiring respect, listening and shared
practice to build mutual trust and forge more egalitarian
collaborations between Nunavimmiut and non-native academics. This is
clearly an effort redundant with the one building up
interdisciplinarity, or ``enlightened disciplinarity'' within all OHM
devices  \citep{Chenorkian2020b}. Ongoing communication between
indigenous partners and non-indigenous researchers has opened up
innovative avenues and new universes for concrete engagement in the
co-construction of knowledge, with the researcher questioning the
applied scope of his data (and its concrete use by communities), and
the indigenous population being presented with the practical benefits
of research findings by interacting with the researcher and questioning
the investigations he hosts on his territory. In this way, learning is
reciprocal and multidimensional: between disciplines within the same
project, between different projects and between Nunavimmiut and French
and Canadian researchers.

Of course, the various projects in which OHMi Nunavik researchers are
involved consider multiple space and time scales, and, in some way, all
inform the implications of urbanization on the socio-ecological system
under study, from instant ({i.e.}, thermic values in a greenhouse) and
seasonal observation ({i.e.}, vegetable yield informing nutrition facts
in a community) to that spanning over several centuries ({i.e.},
geomorphic impact of snow avalanches on a slope segment). Similarly,
approaches can be highly naturalistic, or on the contrary based on
narrative and iconographic sovereignty. Participatory methods are thus
a strength of the researches carried out in Nunavik, paralleling all
the disciplinary methods deployed. Research in the social sciences and
humanities allows for the involvement of indigenous communities, and is
in line with their choice of sovereignty; on the other hand, it allows
for the precision, adaptability and acceptability of research in the
natural sciences. Participatory methods have been specifically
developed in the context of Nunavik communities ({e.g.},
participatory videos, researcher-inhabitant interviews based on
personal\break snapshots).

\subsection{Conducting scientific researches in Nunavik context}

One of the strengths of OHMI Nunavik's research lies in the
interdisciplinary nature of its French-Canadian scientific expertise
(engineering sciences, nutritional sciences, geomorphology and human
sciences). Priority research themes are defined with local partners,
making it clear that not all research topics can be developed outside
the agreed framework. Unlike many disciplinary research projects on
urbanization in Inuit territory following sedentarization, results are
cross-disciplinary.

At the end of the 20th century, the establishment of research protocols
and frameworks encouraged, then made mandatory, fairness, reciprocity
and transparency in research with the communities involved 
\citep{Regan2010,InuitTapiriitKanatami2018,FirstNationsInformationGovernanceCentre2014}. 
This recent ethic has emerged as
a reaction to the scientific behavior of previous decades: for much of
the 20th century, most research in arctic regions was
carried out without the agreement or cooperation of the indigenous
populations; the results of the research carried out were disseminated
without the clear and informed consent of the holders of the knowledge
intended for Western societies. The abusive repetition of this
unilateral Western research was experienced as an usurpation or
dispossession by Inuit, a clear colonial domination 
\citep{InuitTapiriitKanatami2018}. Since then, the decolonization of
research is a recognition of indigenous knowledge and its modes of
production as heuristic potential equivalent to that of Western science
\citep{Wilson2008,Tuhiwai-Smith2012,InuitTapiriitKanatami2018}.

OHM's scientific dynamic is increasingly interdisciplinary: after eight
years of funding targeted programs, the development of intra-OHM
cross-disciplinary research projects and inter-OHM programs reinforces
this reflexive dynamism. The visibility and invisibility of flows
(HYDECO cross-disciplinary program), nutrition (SASI cross-disciplinary
program) and contaminants (collective work by LabEx DRIIHM on
contaminations), for example, enable multi-disciplinary teams to target
specific issues. For instance, ``rivers'', or ``urban nutritional
patterns'' in a Nunavik village, are currently research themes in
development, enabling a focus supported by prior research, combined and
compared with the results of research carried out in other OHM.

The development of such interdisciplinary research in an indigenous
environment presents\break challenges. The confrontation of different
scientific cultures reflects divergent interests in developing research
in the arctic environment: academic institutional holders, political
partners, inhabitants, researchers and students. Solutions, such as the
development of Memoranda of Understanding, agreements between regional
and academic partners, are a slow process in which power relations must
be balanced and multiple levels of recognition intertwined. Another
challenge is the complex reconciliation of knowledge. Finally, a number
of challenges are intrinsic to the Nunavik system, such as the history
of research carried out in this area, which has not yet been appeased:
even if OHMi Nunavik researchers are trying to proceed differently, the
indigenous perception is not necessarily so, as they are once again
non-indigenous researchers involved in the study of this area. That is
a process experienced by some as another form of colonization by
research. The actual relationships in the field are often more personal
than institutional; however, these good individual agreements and their
durability are essential, and are facilitated by the long-term nature
of the OHM system [``multi-year projects'', as underlined in 
\citealp{Chenorkian2020b}], which represents a uniquely active research
device in the Nunavik territory. At the local and regional
institutional level, the very high staff turnover rate in this isolated
environment complicates the coherence of research conducted over the
long term, as much as the relationships of trust between partners. This
is counterbalanced by the bi-national nature of the research teams,
with Canadian experience in indigenous research, facilitating French
inclusion in this\break context.

Unfortunately, the small scale of Nunavik's communities makes it
difficult to conduct an interdisciplinary field campaign involving all
OHMi Nunavik members. This is certainly a hindrance, which, over and
above questions of the researchers' schedules, poses logistical
problems: it is impossible to accommodate a large number of people in
most communities, which would exert an undesirable form of pressure on
the population, and create a climate of over-solicitation unfavourable
to data acquisition. On the other hand, the organization of multiple
data acquisition campaigns is organized upstream between the research
teams, and the interpretation of cross-referenced results \textit{a
posteriori} provides interesting perspective and hindsight.

\section{Conclusion}

This paper provides an insight into the social, cultural and ecological
transformations linked to the urban development of villages in Nunavik
and their effects on Nunavimmiut and the surrounding ecosystem, based
on a reflection led by the OHMi Nunavik collective, and illustrated by
the various research projects carried out within OHMi.

Each of these research projects sheds light on different elements of
the urban system, enabling us to gain a better understanding of village
construction. Currently, there is an ongoing process of reflection to
ensure more sustainable development and to avoid natural hazards and
related risks and to ensure the population's energy and food security
and sovereignty. The article also looks at contemporary Nunavik Inuit
urbanity, which is taking shape as a reorganization of lifestyles
within villages. However, it has a complementary and still fundamental
dimension in terms of territorial travel. The research projects
mobilized here to illustrate diverse aspects of the urban
socio-ecological system were co-constructed with Nunavik authorities
and local populations. The results from the research projects will help
guide future political decisions and aid in the implementation of
concrete solutions in the villages. The scope of possible action
differs depending on the project. At the village level, the Siqiniq and
Kinngaq projects have introduced more sustainable energy models for
greenhouse farming or have provided village authorities and northern
organizations such as Nunavik Parks with recommendations for future
land-use planning to avoid the risks of instabilities on slopes. At the
local level, the Niqiliriniq project provides support in gardening and
the creation of vegetable gardens, nutrient courses and greenhouse
installation, while the Nuna project promotes the visual sovereignty of
young Inuit, while developing teaching materials that can be used by
classes to work on participatory videos.

As well as making a significant contribution to support decision-making
and to stimulate positive change in communities, the projects have also
spawned other community-led projects or participatory action research;
in some cases, these have spread throughout the Nunavik region. For
example, the experiences and lessons learned from the Niqiliriniq
project were recently replicated in the village of Inukjuak, where a
community gardening project was launched with the construction and
installation of cold beds; or in Kangiqsujuaq, where a seaweed
composting project was launched by the local Niqiliriniq project
coordinator. In Kuujjuaq, a collaboration with the company Kuujjuamiut
Inc. has been initiated to extend the lessons learned from the Siqiniq
project about energy optimization from greenhouses to the municipal
swimming pool, with a view to possibly extending the growing season
within the greenhouse using an additional geothermal system. Finally,
Kativik Ilisarniliriniq (the Nunavik School Board) has expressed
interest in having one of their pedagogical advisors participate in a
future video workshop, with a view to eventually integrating
participatory video-making into their curriculum.

The OHMi Nunavik framework contributes to the sustainability of the
northern urban socio-ecological system by combining approaches from
different academic fields (geography, energy, nutrition), while
producing knowledge that will enhance public policy decision-making and
research-intervention. These efforts echo recent calls from indigenous
organizations for transformative, locally-rooted arctic research.

\section*{Declaration of interests}
The authors do not work for, advise, own shares in, or receive funds
from any organization that could benefit from this article, and have
declared no affiliations other than their research organizations.

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