Hope and Willful Ignorance: Why I'm Going to Work This Week

There's road rage. There's rage tweeting. And I guess there is rage blogging. I know this because I'm doing it tonight. I'm filled with rage, and feeling somewhat helpless to do anything about it. And yet there is always something that can be done.

I'm watching the horrible events unfolding right now in the coastal region around Texas and Louisiana, where Hurricane Harvey is dropping rain at a rate that defies any kind of normal comprehension. Word is beginning to emerge that 100,000 homes, maybe more, have been destroyed. Even though we don't have a clear picture yet of the full extent of the damage, it's already clear that years will be needed before the region can return to some semblance of normal. It's a tragedy and the effects will extend far beyond the edge of the storm. Many of the nation's oil refineries are in the region, as well as important port facilities. My heart aches for those who have been injured or have died, and those who have lost their homes and businesses.

So why am I feeling so sick inside right now? It's tricky to explain...this was a so-called "act of God" event, one that might be expected to occur once every 500 or 1,000 years. They happen, and as occupants of this planet, we've had to deal events like this throughout our existence as a species. The problem is that these events are happening more often, driven in part by the warming of our planet. And willful ignorance is now killing people needlessly.

As has already been pointed out by many, no single event can be blamed on global warming, but warming is reinforcing the intensity of each event. A common analogy is that no home run in baseball can be pinpointed as the result of taking steroids, but an increase in the frequency and distance of home runs over time can be. Hurricane Harvey may very well have happened if global warming were not an issue, but the Gulf of Mexico was unusually warm. This caused additional evaporation, and helped to increase the intensity of the winds. Sea level is a few inches higher due to warming over the last century, and this intensified the effects along the coast. There are other factors, of course, including increased population and urban development, which destroyed wetlands that could have absorbed some of the storm waters.

Lives were saved this week because of science. Meteorologists and climatologists were able to use incredible technology to predict the trajectory and intensity of the storm days in advance, allowing people to prepare, and to evacuate if they could. Government agencies and emergency services were able to mobilize resources in advance of the disaster. We knew what was going to happen. Science told us.

But we now have people in charge of our government who are willfully ignorant of the extent and even the existence of global climate change. They are using their power to dismantle the very agencies that allowed us to predict the nature of Hurricane Harvey, and this leaves us vulnerable to hurricanes and tornadoes in the future. And it isn't just the climate agencies. Budgets are being cut at the Environmental Protection Agency, the Department of the Interior (except, of course, for oil and gas exploration), the Food and Drug Administration, the Centers for Disease Control, and the National Science Foundation. Science is under attack on many fronts. The reasons are many, involving politics, tax cuts, and outright fraud and lies. I read headlines every day, and sometimes I feel a deep sense of hopelessness.

Each of the pictures I've posted today is a place I've visited that is threatened by global warming. The first is Glacier National Park in Montana, where the glaciers are disappearing at an accelerated rate. When they are gone, the ecosystem of the park will be radically changed. The second is of Sequoia National Park, where an intense five-year drought, in all probability intensified by warming, has killed many millions of trees. The third photo is the Great Barrier Reef, which has been decimated by coral bleaching related to the warming of the oceans. And finally below, is Venice, a city threatened like almost no other by sea level rise. We are losing all of these precious places, and there are many more. Where is the hope?

There is hope, and that's what this week is about.  I have a classroom, and this week I get to start the adventure of my 33rd year of teaching science in the community college system. In my own small way, I am privileged to light a candle to help fight the darkness that threatens our future. I am always encouraged at this time of year that logic and science can win out over ignorance and rancid politics. I may be naïve in that thought, but I'll take it. I am proud beyond all words of my former students who are themselves now teachers and researchers. I am proud of my former students who went on in other fields, but who have continued to do their part as knowledgeable members of society to seek the best science-based solutions to the problems that bedevil us.

I know that ignorance can in fact be overcome. We managed as a society to pass the Clean Air Act, the Clean Water Act, formed the Environmental Protection Agency, and expanded our protected areas as parks, monuments, and wilderness areas. We dealt as a world community with ozone depletion. And nearly all the world's nations agreed to the Paris Climate Accords. I am confident that saner minds will ultimately prevail in Washington so that the United States will also participate. The ignorance cannot stand in the light of knowledge and evidence. Our world is worth fighting for.

Am I being too naïve and idealistic? Maybe. Time will be the judge, I suppose. But I find it interesting that I still go into the classroom each new semester with a sense of hope and renewal. It's been that way when times were good, and it seemed like we as a society were on the right track, and it's been that way in the darkest of times, when fools and criminals have held the reins of power. The hope for a better future hasn't been beaten out of me. Not yet. And if it ever is, I will fight on anyway.

What is Lagtime, and Why Should You Care? Checking out Dry Creek

Dry Creek at 9AM this morning, just a few cubic feet per second

I wonder how many Dry Creeks there are in the country? I know of two of them within a thirty mile radius of my home, including this one just two miles to the north. The name itself imposes a sort of insignificance to the waterway. The Dry Creek of my town could not be mistaken for an important river. Instead of having headwaters in the high country of glaciers and granite like the nearby Tuolumne and Merced Rivers, it begins in the Sierra Nevada foothills in dry gullies west of Highway 49. It has no natural source of flow other than rainfall. It does run for much of the year due to of irrigation overflow from agricultural fields upstream. But it could never be mistaken for a major waterway.

Except during intense storms...

Dry Creek is one of the few waterways in the Sierra Nevada with no reservoirs or flood control measures. When big storms roll through, the water can rise quickly and overflow its banks. We had such a storm last night. Rain throughout California from Eureka to San Diego. I saw that some coastal areas received 7" or more. Less rain fell in the arid Central Valley, with about 0.70" in Modesto and 1.21" in the rain gauge in my backyard. But several inches fell upstream in the Dry Creek drainage, and I expected to see some high water today. I headed out this morning for a look and...nothing. I was briefly surprised, but then I remembered that I teach about this stuff. It's a perfect example of flood lagtime. Should you care? Yes, if you live anywhere near a river.

Dry Creek at 2,000 cubic feet per second this afternoon.

Rain doesn't fall into rivers, at least not much of it. If falls all over the landscape. In gently sloping landscapes like the Sierra Nevada foothills, it takes time for water to gather into rills and small channels so there is a delay in the rise of the river downstream. That's what lagtime is, the difference between the height of the storm and the height of the runoff measured at some point downstream. I checked on the NOAA website for the latest predictions and could see that the river was slated to begin rapidly rising in the late afternoon, peaking about 8PM at 4,000 cubic feet per second. Sure enough, when I left Modesto about 2:00PM, the river hadn't changed, but by the time I crossed it again 10 miles to the east, the channel was full and beginning to spill over into some of the surrounding fields. It was running at about 2,000 cubic feet per second.

Dry Creek at 4,000 cubic feet per second, as expected after nightfall tonight (March, 2011)

So, how can hydrographers predict floods with such accuracy? They have been monitoring all the major streams in the country for upwards of a century, so there is a huge database to draw from. They watch the pattern of the storm as it progresses, and compare it to those of the past. They can then forecast the onset of flooding, the height of the water, and the cessation of the flood for areas downstream. The greater the lagtime, the more time people downstream have to prepare for the deluge.

Source: http://www.cnrfc.noaa.gov/graphicalRVF.php?id=DCMC1

Accurate scientific data is fundamental to the health of our society. There is not a single place in our country (and indeed the world) that is free of geological hazards. Hydrologists analyze the storm data and report to government officials who then take action to protect the populace from flooding. Seismologists analyze fault activity in hopes of minimizing the damage from major earthquakes. Volcanologists monitor the dangers of active volcanoes. Climate scientists track the effects of global warming.

In a healthy society, the politicians and government officials accept the findings of those who know the dangers best, and act accordingly. I hope that the new administration will come to understand this. If they were to deny the existence of earthquakes or volcanoes (however strange that might seem; Bobby Jindal once famously complained about "volcano monitoring"), disaster would happen. And likewise, if those in government deny global warming, then it would be like a politician predicting that the rivers won't rise, despite the massive storm upstream.

"Civilization Exists by Geological Consent": Hurricane Sandy, Climate Change, and the 2012 Elections

"Civilization exists by geological consent, subject to change without notice" Will Durant

The opposite side of the country, and the opposite problem. A decade-long drought plagues the southwest, as shown in this low-water picture of Lake Mead on the Arizona-Nevada border.

Watching the tragedy unfold along the eastern seaboard, I was struck by the tenuousness of the existence of our society. It is simply unbelievable how quickly things can fall apart when the water rises and the power goes out for more than a few hours. The fragile infrastructure that keeps society going is stressed beyond limits, lives are disrupted, and people start to die.

Anybody who thinks they are somehow immune to natural disasters is deluding themselves. No matter where one lives there are dangers, whether earthquakes, flash floods, hurricanes, tornadoes, volcanic eruptions, heat waves or droughts. With the exception of earthquakes and eruptions, these dangers are related to climate, and they are inextricably related to the changing climate brought about by the buildup of greenhouse gases in our atmosphere.

People can choose to "believe" that global warming isn't happening. But that won't change the reality of the phenomenon. They can also chose to not believe in gravity, but that won't keep them from falling off a cliff. Global warming is real, and climate change is happening now, just as predicted (and sometimes with greater intensity than the early predictions of climate scientists).

Knowledge of a threat allows for preparation to meet the threat. Politicians have used and overused this principle in relation to terrorism and national defense throughout our nation's history. Sometimes the threat was real, and sometimes it was exaggerated or even imaginary (weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, anyone?).

Today, unfortunately, the politicians on one side of the aisle in Congress are in a near total state of denial on global climate change. They deny global warming in the face of terrifying heat waves and droughts that have caused havoc in their own states and congressional districts. They deny it in the face of disappearing icecaps and glaciers around the world. And they deny it even as some of America's most iconic cities suffer profound damage from unprecedented storms. The few in their party who understand and accept the findings of climate scientists are not allowed to act for the common good on legislation at the cost of tea-party challenges in subsequent elections.

One of the most stunning moments of the current presidential campaign came when Mitt Romney stood in front of his supporters at the Republican convention and "I'm not in this race to slow the rise of the oceans or to heal the planet" to huge cheers from the crowd. Since Hurricane Sandy devastated the eastern seaboard, he has refused to say anything on climate change, for fear of losing his Tea Party support, or for fear of losing votes from the two-thirds of the U.S. population that accepts the phenomenon of human-induced climate change. His failure to take a clear stand on this issue does not encourage confidence in his leadership abilities.

If we as a society deny the reality of global warming, we will not prepare for the coming changes that will happen, and that is a prescription for disaster. Climate change is one of the most important issues of our time. One party denies its existence. What will they do (or not do) if they are given the reins of government? We lost eight years under the Bush administration, and Republicans put up every possible roadblock to climate legislation during the last four years of the Obama administration.

People have a great many reasons for voting the way that they do. Sometimes the reasons are logical, and sometimes they are emotional. Sometimes their reasons are economic or self-serving (the undue influence of anonymous corporate money is another disturbing issue). I will be voting for science, and the politicians who understand their responsibility to consider science as they vote on legislation concerning global climate change, energy issues, and education. There is one major political party in our country that has lost its way in this regard, and as such, they are supremely unqualified to govern our country as we face one of the major issues of our generation.

What's Wrong With This Picture? Travels in Southern California

Southern California is ... unique. I grew up down there, along with several tens of millions of other people, and I watched my town grow from a little community of 20,000 people to something like 100,000 when I left thirty years ago. I've had occasion to return more than a few times and I see seven or eight cities which have merged and overlapped to form an urban center that isn't called Los Angeles or San Diego, yet has more than 2 million people. They have to live somewhere, and that's forced many to live in places that have to be considered sort of marginal.

In my high school days, I ran cross country, and we trained in the foothills and across the alluvial fans at the base of the San Gabriel Mountains beneath Cucamonga and Ontario Peaks (8,859 and 8,693 feet respectively). I liked exploring the chaparral country, especially after the spring rains, and in those days, the fans were undeveloped. They were considered sort of a wasteland, too rocky to grow citrus or graze cows, as was done in the flatter valleys below.

It was quite a shock, then, to visit some relatives who lived in one of the newer developments, tucked right up against the mountains. In many third-world countries, people live in the marginal environments in shanties. In Southern California, they live in two story mansions.

So here are my questions for the day: How many natural hazards can people in the developments above, at the base of the eastern San Gabriel Mountains, reasonably expect to experience at some point in their lives? What is the geological cost of living in beautiful Southern California? And how many of these hazards are spelled out in the mortgage papers these folks sign?