Download Water, the West, and Our Changing Climate: Political and Ethical

Water, the West, and Our Changing Climate: Political and Ethical
Challenges
Anya Plutynski
University of Utah
Water is the central limiting resource of the Western United States, the source a
unique and elaborate body of law, the site of extensive dams and development,
and the center of a history of divisive politics of the West. For the past 100 years,
water has been developed to serve largely narrow utilitarian ends: agriculture,
mining, and the ever-growing population of the West. Today, a new challenge
faces those who manage and plan for water in the west: climate change.
Scientists and engineers, as well as the NOAA, are already documenting change
and planning for the stresses water variability and shortages might place on
users in desert states such as Utah, New Mexico, and Arizona.
However, in western states with a libertarian bent, the law and politics of water
and the politics of climate change make an especially heady mix. The very claim
that warming is happening, not to mention that it is caused by anthropogenic
activities, has divided politicians and scientists, policy makers and activists, along
partisan lines. Many of those with the most power in state and local governments
regard climate change abatement measures as a challenge to “western” values
of liberty and free enterprise. Moreover, states are deeply divided because of a
long history of tension over rights to water – from the headwaters of the Colorado
to Mexico.
Scientists, lawyers, water users, stakeholders, leaders of environmental
organizations, and leaders in state and local government have very different
perceptions about the extent and nature of risks due to climate change, and how
to address these risks. These differences in knowledge and perception will no
doubt have substantial repercussions for water use and availability in the future.
The object of this case study is first, to summarize the state of climate science,
particularly, it’s potential impacts on water resources in the west. Second, we will
reflect on the political, social and logistical complications that these changes will
bring for planning for water in the West. Third and finally, the object is to try to
map out the causes of these very different perceptions, suggest ways in which
scientists and policy makers might better communicate, about our values in
planning for water resources, as well as our shared obligations in responsibility
for non-human animals, ecosystems, and future generations.
Climate Science and the West: A Summary
There are, broadly speaking, three central challenges that climate change may
present with respect to water in the West. First, variability in climate will increase;
this means, roughly, that extremes temperature and precipitation will occur more
often, and weather in general will be less predictable.
According to scientists at the NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric
Association), in fact, this has already occurred on a local level. Models used to
predict local weather in Utah, though they are always periodically updated, have
had to be updated sooner than expected. According to Brian McInerny, Senior
Service Hydrologist at the NOAA: “We’re seeing that [lots of precipitation] right
now: it’s harder to forecast river flows because the spring weather is more
variable. It’s different from average… if you use statistical means for forecast
stream flows, you can look at the past, and predict the future. But if you change
air mass composition and temperature is different, using [that] method doesn’t
work … we are going to shift now to 81-2011 for the 30-year average. When you
do that, your window has moved into more of a climate change regime, so the
temperatures are warmer, so your averages are going to be higher. Nighttime
lows are much higher.”
In other words, the models that the NOAA are now using as a baseline for
weather forecasts in the mountain west have had to be shifted “up” to the most
recent window of time, in order to incorporate the new variability.
The second challenge (at least at Northern latitudes) will be higher precipitation,
falling largely as rain, rather than snow. According to Thomas Reichler, a
Professor of Meteorology at the University of Utah: “There will be on the order of
10% increases in precipitation in winter over northern Utah, and roughly 10%
decrease in summer. Those changes become smaller as you go toward the
south.” Precipitation increase is tied to increases in temperature. Reichler
estimates that temperature increases will be “on the order of 5 deg. F. The
seasonal differences are not so large, in terms of temperatures – basically it just
gets warmer, in winter as well as summer.”
Jim Steenbergh, Professor of Meteorology at University of Utah adds, “We have
a range of scenarios for the next 100 years. Most of the climate modes predict
warming in the 3-9 degree range over the next 100 years.” With higher average
temperatures, more precipitation will fall as rain than snow, and there will, on
average, be higher runoff from the Wasatch Range, for example, earlier in the
spring season.
In summary, according to Steenbergh, “The changes in temperature we can
expect in the next 50-100 years are much larger than anything that’s occurred
since humans have settled here, even before Native Americans were on the
land. So, we’re looking at a pretty big change in terms of the climate of the
state.”
Third and finally, and perhaps much more concerning, are what have been
dubbed “mega-droughts.” According to Rob Gillies, Utah’s State Climatologist
and Professor at Utah State University: “…with climate change, the projections
for Utah are that we’re going into more extended droughts, of the like that
happened in the past with the Anasazi... We going to look at the paleo records –
from the tree rings, we look at the cycles of drought. From the data that we now
have – we see that there is a cycle every three years, seven years, and one
every 25 years.”
Reichler explains that these are droughts on a scale that we’ve not seen in the
Western United States since occupied by Europeans: “There have been some
paleoclimate studies trying to measure from proxy data – like from tree rings –
trying to reconstruct the hydroclimate over the last 1000 years. They find that …
the last drought that we had over the last 6 years – these events were more
common than we originally thought in the very distant past – like over the last
1000 years. And, I think that this is what they dubbed a mega-drought.”
He continues, “Hydrologists usually prepare dams and reservoirs and so on for
events that occur maybe once in 100 years – probably because they have an
observational record that goes back 100 years. And, they think, maybe that’s
something that may happen in the future in again. Of course, if you wait long
enough, there may happen something that occurs only once every 1000 years.
And, you don’t know when that may happen.”
Steenbergh explains: “That’s actually my biggest concern, for at least the rest of
my lifetime, is the potential that we see one of these mega-droughts. That would,
I say, be the biggest risk we have, in terms of our natural water flows. Over time,
that climate change signal will be important. But, between now and 2050, the
mega-drought is possibly the biggest issue. But, whether or not we get it in the
next fifty years is a tougher call to make… You’re talking about a situation where
it’s very difficult to recharge reservoirs for many years. In the past, when we’ve
gotten into these droughts over a few years in the past, the reservoir storage
goes down, and, the reservoirs do their job. That’s what they’re built for – to
smooth out the climate system. And, of course we all know that Lake Powell is
reaching terribly low values. But we haven’t reached anything nearly as bad as
what we see in the tree ring record. So, we’re seeing a situation where our water
resources would be stretched to the maximum.”
In sum, there are three problems: what I’ll call the merely “complicating” and the
“zero-sum” problems associated with climate change in the west. Complicating
problems include variability and unpredictability in climate and precipitation,
higher temperatures, less precipitation as snow, and consequently, higher run off
earlier in the season. One of the major effects of climate change and increased
temperatures will be increased evaporation and evapotranspiration rates.
Reservoirs evaporate large amounts of water. Also, ecosystems moving north
may affect water variability and distribution.
Zero-sum problems are problems where the outcome is irreversible and on a
vast scale; these include droughts on a major scale, droughts that require radical
reconsideration of water use in the West. Such droughts have occurred in the
past, and indeed, can be predicted for an arid state like Utah on a regular cycle,
though, of course, predicting such “zero-sum” events is a challenge.
This leads one naturally to the question of uncertainties about the science, both
of climate and water. It’s important to clarify two distinct senses of uncertainty:
what I’ll call mere statistical or “magnitude” uncertainty and genuine scientific
controversy. There are ample statistical uncertainties surrounding the modeling
of climate and water resources. The trends described above, however, are not a
matter of scientific controversy, according to almost every professional
meteorologist in the U.S.
Jim Steenbergh explains: “We already have warming in the pipeline no matter
what we do today. There’s no scenario, that I can imagine, where we’re going to
start to get greenhouse gas emissions down to a very low level for at least a few
decades. So, we know it’s coming, and adaptation should enter into the policy
mix. We should prepare for that. I don’t think it’s a burden of proof issue.”
So, what are the uncertainties in question? First, there are uncertainties
concerning the extent of variability and how it will affect the west. How extreme
the change of temperature will be, and how that changes precipitation is a matter
of statistical uncertainty, though the trends toward increased average
temperature are not. Much of this difficulty comes from scaling down climate
change models. Most of the research on climate change is done on a very large
scale; that is, climate models are based on grid boxes that span several states;
so, generating models that provide information about local conditions and
responses to climate change are a challenge. Steenburgh explains: “Most of the
climate models predict that as you move to the north, things will be wetter,
especially during the winter season. As you move south, things are going to
become drier. In most of the Western US, the climate models project that things
are going to become drier in general in the summer. But, the winter is the critical
piece for water resources… it’s really a matter of whether the snow loss we’re
going to see is going to be offset by an increase in precipitation… we actually do
see in some of the climate models that northern Utah that things are going to be
a little wetter. But, we don’t have enough confidence in those projections that I’d
be willing to stick my neck out and say that there’s going to be a zero-sum
game. Basically, it’s more likely than not that we’ll see a drier future. But, we
don’t have real strong confidence in those projections yet.”
In sum, climate is a complex system, with multiple variables, ranging from the
albedo effect of dust collected on snow pack to larger changes in systems such
as el Niño. A large part of the problem for the West, according to Rob Gillies, is
predicting the movement of what is called the Hadley Cell. The Hadley cell
determines whether one’s climate will be closer to that of New Mexico and
Arizona, or Northern Utah or Idaho. Jeff Niermeyer, water manager and senior
engineer for the City of Salt Lake, explains the function of the Hadley cell: “You
know right on that border of being wetter or dryer, there’s this phenomena called
Hadley cell expansion. And, that’s basically down at the equator – there’s all this
energy, heat evaporating water – it comes up, it carves off, and goes up to the
northern and southern latitudes. And that’s why if you go to Guatemala or Costa
Rica, they’re very wet because of the moisture that’s falling out. But, as the
Hadley Cell goes northward, in our case, it gets dryer, and it descends over
Northern Mexico and Arizona. That’s why they’re essentially deserts – because
the moisture has already dropped out. There are these zones of high pressure
that form and don’t have much moisture.”
Climate change, however, will change the distribution of arid lands, due to the
Hadley Cell expansion. According to Niermeyer: “Under the climate change
model, that Cell is projected to advance – it’s going to expand up into Southern
Utah, and maybe up into middle Utah... If that comes to pass, and we statistically
have a lot less storm tracks coming, even if they may be wetter, then we’re going
to have persistently longer cycles of drought, because we’re just not going to
have those storm tracks coming to us like we have in the past.”
Snow pack melt provides a great proportion of the demand in the Western
States, and, if that snow depth is reduced, or, we’re getting the same amount of
moisture, but it’s falling in winter and it’s running off in winter, then without
building some kind of storage, there simply will not be enough water to provide
for demand.
While the scientists interviewed for this piece expressed no skepticism about the
fact of climate change, there seems to be a great deal of uncertainty about the
nature of impact. Moreover, the change in demographics in the West, both in
terms of population growth, and possible changes in the variety of uses,
challenge predictions about availability.
However, many people, (including lawmakers) especially in conservative states,
such as Utah and Arizona, are skeptical of climate change itself. The fact that
skepticism about climate science is a genuine reality has real import for the
political process of planning for water in the west, no less than the variety of
scientific questions about how much or how much less water there will be, when,
and where.
That is, while well-meaning scientists have spoken out about coming challenges,
their words are not being heard. There are a least three interconnected reasons:
first, the historical context and contentious politics and heated legal battles
surrounding water in the west; second, generalized skepticism about climate
science and “liberal” academics in general; and, third, failed communication
about both the relevant science and values. It will be suggested here that there
needs to be greater efforts at reaching common ground, drawing upon a broad
and inclusive set of values from across the political spectrum. (The fourth
possibility, a simple failure of moral accountability, or, perhaps more charitably, a
gap between thought and deed, is certainly plausible as well.)
Political and Social Context: Planning or Procrastination?
To a historian of the politics of water in the west, however, it would not be
surprising that planning for dramatic changes in water use and distribution poses
a number of challenges, legal, political and social. While the story of the evolution
of water law in the west is certainly beyond the scope of this case study, some
basic facts are worth noting.
The Colorado River Compact was established in 1922 to distribute water rights
along the Colorado River, to the Upper Basin (Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, and
Wyoming) and Lower Basin States (Nevada, Arizona, and California). The
Compact roughly divided water between the two regions, and states within each
basin were required to negotiate among themselves. Unfortunately, the Compact
did not quickly resolve issues of distribution; Arizona challenged California’s
allocation, ultimately resulting in a Supreme Court Decision in 1963. More
recently, calls for renegotiation have arisen yet again, after it became clear that
the original Compact assumed a much high average flow, as high as 16.4 million
acre feet per year. Tree ring studies, however, have shown that over the longer
term, the average is much closer to 13.2 million acre feet per year. Subsequent
low-reservoir conditions in Lake Powell, Lake Mead, and other shortage
conditions throughout the southwest resulted in an interim renegotiation in 2007,
distributing water based on the level of the reservoir at Lake Mead.
The west’s early development was primarily in agriculture and mining, two
industries which continue to use the bulk of water many western states today.
Between 80-85% of water in many western states is withdrawn for agriculture,
particularly livestock; only 3-4% of the water is used for human consumption.
While it’s common to think of California’s fruit and vegetable crops as exemplary
of the agricultural practices of the western states, the primary crop in many
desert states is hay (or, alfalfa); alfalfa consumes a large amount of water, and
its primary use is to feed dairy and beef cattle.
How much water is required for a single pound of beef is a contentious figure, but
the Water Education Foundation gives the rough figures of 2,400 gallons; this
would be more than enough to provide for a family of four for a month of drinking
water, washing, etc.. Mark Reisner, author of Cadillac Desert, argues, “In 1986,
irrigated pasture used about 5.3 million acre-feet of water — as much as all 27
million people in the state consumed, including for swimming pools and lawns….
Is California atypical? Only in the sense that agriculture in California, despite all
the desert grass and irrigated rice, accounts for proportionately less water use
than in most of the other western states. In Colorado, for example, alfalfa to feed
cows consumes nearly 30% of all the state’s water, much more than the share
taken by Denver…. The West’s water crisis — and many of its environmental
problems as well — can be summed up, implausible as this may seem, in a
single word: livestock.” (Reisner, NYT, 1989)
Agriculturists and mining companies in the west hold a vast majority of priority
under law with respect to water use; under prior appropriation law, whomever
puts water to use first will get first allocation. This “first in use” law has strongly
constrained changes in the ways in which water policy in the West may be
adapted to large-scale change. No less so, debates about which states have how
much water hinge on a long and contentious history of water law – the Columbia
River Compact and it’s various problems will be discussed further, below.
Dan McCool, Professor of Political Science at the University of Utah, traces the
history of water allocation in the west back to the late 1800s: “The problem with
all of these give-away programs – and, they ranged from the 1872 Mining act,
which gave away huge swaths of public lands, the 1862 Homestead act, the
Timber and Stone act, which gave states lands that they lumbered, the railroad
acts, which gave away large tracts of land, including land in Utah… All of this
became an article of faith; that, we develop the west, and its rivers, for river
navigation and transportation and agriculture and mining. That’s what we do with
water in the west. It moved from that era’s version of an economic stimulus
package, to an article of faith. A blind belief in this is the way we do it, and we’ll
wrap all our laws around that. Everything from the prior appropriation doctrine to
the law of the river, are all designed with that mentality in mind… Water is… for
agriculture, mining, and navigation… economic rationality was tossed out the
window. Very very little of this water development would take place if an
economically rational criteria had been applied… the real problem are the
traditional laws of appropriation and allocation… We do not have a water
shortage – we have a mismanagement problem.”
In other words, McCool suggests that the history of water law in the west
effectively institutionalized economically inefficient water policy. For example,
most of the water in the state of Utah goes to agriculture, but agriculture only
contributes to 3% of the local economy, at the highest end estimate. Most of
Utah’s economy is dependent upon tourism, which, of course, is driven in part by
its scenic mountains and rivers, which may be threatened by both water
development and climate change. The problem, as McCool suggests, seems not
to be not only a potential shortage of water, but also an archaic system of law
and policy that directs water toward the most economically disadvantageous use.
To many, herding of cattle and sheep are part and parcel of a Western “way of
life.” The Navajo have a long history of sheepherding in the four corners – over
100 years. Yet, this “way of life” is, relatively speaking, only a very short span of
time, in the history of the rivers and ecosystems of the west. Thus, the challenge
of climate change is not simply a challenge of for the scientists, technology, or
even law and politics, but a challenge to shared history and cultural values. It is
also in large part due to a deep political division, discussed below, concerning
how scientific uncertainty is understood, and risk perceived.
As Dr. McCool makes clear, Western water law, a system established in the
1800s, prioritizes uses that are much less economically viable. The problem, in
other words, is not that we have a resource that is fundamentally at risk. What is
at stake is how and where that resource is distributed, and can be managed
sustainably. What sustainability means, and for whom, is what is at question.
More broadly, the legal and political consequences of allowing water to leave the
state have a long history of contention, as is illustrated by the largely localfocused interests of Utah’s lawmakers.
Utah’s lawmakers, sincerely concerned with Utah’s interests, are interested in
keeping the water in state. To this end, many Western state lawmakers promote
more water development. Dennis Stowell, of the Utah Legislature, explains:
“We’re not putting enough money into water projects – we ought to be doing
more... I think one of the big things that I’ve pushed is that we should develop the
Colorado River that’s running out of state. There’s more than 400 hundred-acre
feet that belongs to Utah that goes to other areas. Some places to develop are
Wayne County - the St. George pipeline. We should be using it [the water]. We
should use it along the river. We ought to be using it for agriculture. We should
do some big agricultural projects – for instance, orchards. [We should develop]
places where apples, nuts, can grow – new trees closer to the river. We have
some big blocks that are in institutional trusts. We should use those blocks of
land and block up some more… There should be both underground and dams
storage. There are still dams that we could do with minimal environmental
damage. In the Freemont River and Wayne County, there are places where we
can build dams… We ought to hold the water up here.”
Stowell’s concerns grow out of a long history of “water development” projects –
projects to build larger and better dams to protect various state’s “rights” to water;
this rights question can be traced to a poorly conceived compact dictating water
rights in the west. This concern will become ever more pronounced, as
population growth continues, and energy needs continue apace. Water and
energy use are deeply intertwined; more energy requires more water, and vice
versa. Solving this problem, especially in the arid west, where populations are
expected to double or triple in some states in the next 50 years, will be no small
feat.
Chances are, the long dispute over water rights among Western States is not
over. In short, the problem of planning for water in the west has at least two
dimensions along which conflict arises: between local and regional interests, and
long and short term needs, of both persons and the landscape and rivers
themselves. What stands as a barrier to resolving these interests are a number
of stubborn problems: I have mentioned the history and politics of water law, but
one issue, which is addressing what scientific uncertainty means, and how we
think about and perceive risk.
Ethical Dimensions: A Case Study in Our Obligations to Future
Generations
Whatever the case may be, the arid climate of the west will force action: either
new sources of water will be developed through huge infrastructure projects and
technology to meet the growing demands of population and consumption, or
demand must be brought in line with the arid climatology of the region.
Moreover, addressing climate change skepticism, either through better science
education, better communication about shared values, or agreement on
“downstream” needs, whatever our disputes about the science, would seem to be
a first step toward better policy. It may be tempting to treat climate skepticism as
merely a fringe view. However, in the western US, and particularly in
conservative states, views such as this are not uncommon. Indeed, a recent
Gallup poll (http://www.gallup.com/poll/116590/increased-number-think-globalwarming-exaggerated.aspx) suggests that increased numbers of Americans
believe that the potential impact of and thus urgency of climate change is
exaggerated.
The central concerns of the skeptics in this debate surround impact of climate
change abatement measures on the local economy and ways of life. Also, for
many westerners, distrust of the federal government and libertarian politics are
key values, i.e., a premium is placed on person liberty and minimal government.
How can one both act within the cultural norms and values of western states, and
argue for long-term planning based on considerations of future generations?
What are some arguments for a more “green” western economy? There are a
variety of ways to argue for an environmental ethic; however, for many
conservative politicians, no amount of value dialogue will change the bottom line:
what they claim are the exorbitant costs of climate abatement measures. There is
an active dispute in the environmental economics literature about just this
question: what are the “true costs” of climate change abatement? Some set the
“discount rate” very high, and conclude that any outlay to offset future harms will
impose significant costs. A discount rate is the rate at which return on current
investment is required to justify expenditure of scarce resources. Another way of
thinking of a discount rate is the rate at which future dollars (or any measure of
economic benefit) are “discounted” relative to present dollars. Since a dollar
invested today is worth much more the further out in the future, most set the
discount rate at roughly the rate of return on risky investments.
However, others argue that the discount rate should be low. When we consider
how much we would be willing to pay to offset a potentially catastrophic risk,
paying twice as much for energy, gas, or groceries may, for some, be perfectly
fair and just, given the potential cost to future generations. The point to make
here is that any claims about the “cost” of climate change, even though put in
economic terms, is not a strictly scientific or empirical matter, but is also a value
judgment. The values, for instance, of lost opportunity are difficult to measure—
whether these opportunities are the enjoyment of beautiful lakes and streams, or,
the possible value to medicine of rare plants.
In sum, the problem is at least as much a matter of how we “frame” the problem,
as which tools we use to solve it. In considerations to do with offsetting possibly
catastrophic outcomes, it may be better to think of this case as analogous to
buying insurance, rather than investing in the private market. How much are
people willing to pay to offset a potentially large risk, especially with respect to
costs that will be borne by their children, or children’s children? Most persons
(who can afford to do so) chose to buy insurance, in case of fire or natural
disaster.
The difference with climate change is that it is a “creeping” problem – it’s hard to
“see” the effects of climate change in one’s own lifetime, and to imaging the true
costs, both to future persons and the environment. This failure of perception
likely figures in climate skepticism as well as failures to meet planning deadlines
(such as the most recent climate summit), even for those who are not skeptics.
Procrastination is a temptation; and, in cases of creeping problems,
procrastinating planning itself is easier than setting limits on present activities
and pleasures that we take for granted.