photo taken from the BBC news website
Natural disasters are becoming like school shootings. We get upset for a day or two, maybe we blame whichever politicians we don’t like, and then we move on. The political will to engage in preventative measures doesn’t yet exist, so we twiddle our thumbs until the next event happens and the cycle starts over.
This time around, it’s wildfires in the heart of metropolitan Los Angeles. A prolonged dry spell, coupled with frenetically intense Santa Ana winds descending from the mountains, created conditions for wildfires to spread at highway speed. The systems in place to control fires for the city of Los Angeles and the state of California were very quickly overwhelmed. The human cost so far (as of the morning of January 11) thankfully appears to be relatively low — Hurricane Helene was far worse in that regard, and in a less populated area — but the property damage is enormous. So what could have been, and can be, done differently?
Naturally, the President-elect didn’t hesitate to point his finger. In a post on TruthSocial, he stated that “Governor Gavin Newscum” — misspelling presumably intentional — “refused to sign the water restoration declaration put before him that would have allowed millions of gallons of water, from excess rain and snow melt from the North, to flow daily into many parts of California, including the areas that are currently burning in a virtually apocalyptic way.” First off, there was no explicit “water restoration declaration.” Trump had, in 2019, signed federal regulations lifting limits on the amount of water that could be diverted from Northern California into the Central Valley. Newsom challenged this action in court, on the grounds that the limits were designed to protect smelt and salmon habitat. The President-elect would have a stronger argument if he could make the case that Los Angeles needed this water, but he can’t. The state’s reservoirs are nearly all above their historical average water level (as of January 9). The quantity of available water was not the problem at all.
The problem — besides the increasing vulnerability of all the Pacific states to wildfires that is a long-predicted consequence of our warming climate and has been borne out with progressively more unsettling examples — comes from how rapidly the water can be delivered to where it is needed when catastrophe strikes. As is becoming all too common, the situation that Los Angeles is experiencing is worse than the worst case scenario that was prepared for. The demand for water to fight the fires greatly exceeded the system’s ability to quickly replenish the water, especially for hydrants further up in the hills, and the water pressure dropped dramatically. It has to do with Bernoulli’s equation and fluid dynamics, not with fish.
But that brings us to one of the arguments frequently made by people who advocate against preventative measures to stop the planet from warming: “we can always adapt.” As if adaptation were the cheaper and easier strategy. Sure, we can adapt, and Los Angeles has learned the hard way that it doesn’t really have a choice. The city needs to completely overhaul how it delivers water, because this situation can and eventually will happen again. Does that sound cheap and easy?
And who thinks Los Angeles is the only place that needs to adapt? I’ll refer you to a small news article about western North Carolina, published in 2022, touting the region as a refuge from a changing climate. “When it comes to climate,” the article begins,” the mountains have always been an attractive place to live. Now -- even more so -- as climate change makes severe weather events even worse elsewhere.” (Emphasis added.) Unfortunately, we’ve all now seen how good a choice of words “elsewhere” turned out to be. So who in this country is still confident that climate change won’t affect them directly? And if you are, why?
Personally, I agree with our country’s first great scientist, Benjamin Franklin: an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. There are things our warming planet will inflict on us that we’ve passed the point of preventing, but over the long run we still have our hands on the thermostat. We still generally presume that renewable power sources are prohibitively expensive, but that’s not true at all. And we also have to consider the full costs of the alternatives, whether it’s adaptation (and re-adaptation, if we allow the planet to warm further), continued global dependence on places like the Middle East and Russia, or cleaning up the messes when something bad happens. What should we do, then? Critically question the status quo, and the motives of people who advocate for doing nothing differently. Get a sense of what the true costs really are. Support measures that will lead to the stopping of the warming trend. Maybe make sure that a few windmills get built in America over the next four years. And don’t stay in place, because the climate will not wait for us to catch up.